I'm an addict.

I’ve been trying to top each of my pranks with even bigger, more creative pranks. I can’t stop myself. I believe I have a practical joke addiction. I can hear the words of Mrs. Schnoring, my 8th grade teacher, echoing in my head, “There’s a time and a place for that type of nonsense, Miss Burke.” I think I have officially turned into Jokey Smurf.


All I want to do is come up with innovative, daring practical jokes, and I’m losing sight of the fact that they are jokes. The stunts I’ve started to pull aren’t even funny! For example, last night in the parking garage I saw that co-worker Dave’s convertible top on his Miata was down. Unable to resist my desire to do something funny to his car (in the past I have affixed “secret admirer” notes to his windshield, and left a single tortilla chip on his dashboard) I reached in, turned the ignition, and severed his brake line. Just kidding!! (see, even in the context of explaining that I can’t stop with the jokes, I make a joke. I’ve got a disease!) I turned his ignition, and then I turned up the volume on his radio and then turned off the car, hoping that when he got in the car he would think that the parking attendant was blasting the stereo as he parked his car. Or I don’t even know what outcome I was hoping for … it was just an aimless practical joke.

I’m pathetic … but I’m not alone. I just read a story about a doctor who had a skeleton in his office, and he attached fishing wire from the arm of the skeleton to his desk. In the middle of a consultation with a patient, he would start to pull on the fishing wire, thus causing the skeleton’s arm to start moving, and thus freaking out his patients. Is it wrong that after reading about this, I briefly considered becoming a doctor just to be able to pull a similar prank??? I need help.

Mean things I’ve done to Erin Doyle

Through some self-reflection, as well as describing my actions to my cousin Chris, who replied with “KIM! Why are you so mean to this girl?” I have decided that perhaps sometimes I cross the line and am mean to Erin Doyle. She’s a very sweet girl … in fact, I refer to her as my little buddy. But for some reason I just can’t help doing mean things to her just for a few laughs. I swear I think she likes the attention. But anyway, you can be the judge … in the three years I’ve know Erin, here are some of the things I’ve done to her that might be considered mildly mean-spirited:

- When she got into my car recently, I told her not to put on her seatbelt and then I slammed on my brakes. (She wasn’t hurt at all.)
- When I got into the backseat of Laura’s Jeep, I sat behind Erin, who was in the passenger seat. Erin had moved up slightly but I asked her to move up further. When she went to scoot up, I pushed her seat from behind so her knees hit the dashboard.
- I accused her of hooking up with the homeless man that lives in the alley behind our office.
- When I discovered that she had stored her yogurt on my shelf in the company refrigerator, I accidentally knocked her yogurt on the floor.
- At Christmastime, I called her a mean little elf. Recently I told her that she looks like a mean little sea monkey.
- I used the scary spare arm from the BSUR mannequin to poke her and brush her hair.
- When she posted her bedroom furniture for sale on Craigslist, I made up a guy’s email address on Yahoo and I responded to her ad saying “That bed looks familiar … didn’t I hook up with you after Clarendon Ballroom one night?”
- When she responded with an embarrassing comment to my company-wide email regarding an employee, I doctored her email to make it look like she responded to the whole company and I sent it to her saying, “Did you mean to send this to everyone?”
- I told everyone she has VD.
- She was really hungover at work one day and I refused to take her home, and instead I bombarded her with internet images of liquor and beer.
- I called her godless and laughed when Dave called her barren.
- I glued her big eraser to her desk.
- I helped Dave break the antlers off the hand-carved moose pen her sister bought her.
- I invited myself on her vacation to visit her parents, and then I demanded that she sleep on the couch so I could have her bed.
- I helped Dave spread a rumor that she has overly-sweaty palms.

You have to admit, some of these are pretty funny! Some of my best work, if I do say so myself. I’m just helping her to become less sensitive … she should thank me! Erin, if you are reading this, you’re welcome!

Céad míle fáilte!

It’s St. Paddy’s Day, wee lads and lassies! Time for the wearin’ o’ the green! Time to sing songs like “When Irish Eyes are Smiling” and “Dear Old Donegal” (just ask me and I’ll sing for you the fast part at the end with all the Irish surnames!) and everyone’s favorite, “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?”. Everyone is in good spirits on St. Patrick’s Day!

Everyone, that is, except my coworker. To protect her identity, I’ll call her Tori. This morning, I came beaming into the office and greeted everyone with a “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!” in my impeccable Irish accent. I know some people forget that today is St. Patrick’s Day (heaven forbid!) so as a way to make everyone feel as welcome as the flowers in May, I bring small green items to give to people who forgot to wear their green. Today I decided to bring St. Patrick’s Day themed temporary tattoos. So cute, right?? Everyone took me up on my offer to pick out a tattoo to show they were Irish, or at least an honorary Irish person for the day. When I so graciously offered a tattoo to Tori, she practically threw daggers at me with her eyes. In a voice reminiscent of the girl from “The Exorcist”, Tori informed me that she hates St. Patrick’s Day. “I’m not Irish and I’m not Catholic, so I hate St. Patrick’s Day.”

I quickly took a step back from Tori’s side, so as not to receive a painful burn from the lightning bolt that was sure to strike at any moment. Who can hate St. Patrick’s Day? No one I’ve ever met from here to the Emerald Isle has ever hated St. Patrick’s Day. Growing up, I attended Holy Infant School, run by the Sisters of Mercy from County Meath, Ireland. Every St. Paddy’s Day, the whole town would come out for the school’s festival, which included performances by the Holy Infant Irish Dancers (yours truly danced for 3 years) and McNamara’s Band (the schoolboys couldn’t dance so they got to partake in the singing portion of our routine). We even got a day off from school for St. Patrick’s Day! So it stands to reason that no one I’ve ever met has hated such a wonderful day.

Therefore, I’m on a mission today. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to get Tori in the St. Paddy’s Day spirit. I’ve been bombarding her with email images (shown below) that exemplify the essence of Ireland. I’ve sent her St. Paddy’s Day trivia and let her know that other faiths believe in Saints, not just us Catholics. I told her how two women in a convertible threw green beads at me as I waited to cross the street this afternoon, just because I’m wearing green. I even played Irish music throughout the front office, and yes, I danced a jig for Tori from my days as an Irish dancer. That seemed to make her smile (ok, laugh) but I haven’t converted her yet. But I will, or my name isn’t Kimberly Kathleen Burke. As they say in Ireland, Slán agus beannacht leat.

It's all about me!

So I had big plans to blog today, but instead got tied up filling out this email survey that designer dave sent to me. So I decided to post it for all to see ... Happy Weekend, everybody!

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Between 4 cousins, 3 of us have “Kathleen” in our names somewhere, so it’s a family name.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I’m sure I cried watching American Idol last night.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Yes, but I’m changing it all the time.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Smoked Turkey
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? No.
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Hell yeah!
7. YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Oh no, not at all. :)
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS ? Yes.
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? I doubt it.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Fiber One Honey Clusters or Fruit Loops.
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? No, but I re-tie them when I put them on.
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Yes.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Butter Pecan.
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Their hair and their laugh.
15. RED OR PINK? Have you seen my apartment??? Red. Definitely red.
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? I need to be better with managing my money.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? I miss my sister. I wish we lived closer to one another.
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU? Yes!
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Jeans and black Pumas.
20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A bagel. It’s Friday and it’s Lent, so I had to forego my usual turkey bacon sandwich from Starbucks.
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The sound of Kathleen typing and a 90’s mix on Rhapsody. Currently “Machine Head” by Bush is on.
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Yellow.
23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Peonies! Stargazer lilies. Anything fresh or clean-smelling. Freshly cut grass. Autumn crispness.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Lori, because she is home sick but we have 2 Kohl’s orders shipping today.
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS? I like him a lot.
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Baseball, hockey, football – in that order.
27. HAIR COLOR? Blonde
28. EYE COLOR? Green/hazel
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No.
30. FAVORITE FOOD? Potatoes and cheese, but not together. And balsamic vinegar.
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? I like them both.
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Thirteen, and before that Michael Clayton. I did not like either!
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Black.
34. SUMMER OR WINTER? Spring and fall.
35. HUGS OR KISSES? Yes please.
36. FAVORITE DESSERT? Cherry pie.
37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? ?
38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Dave, because he sent it to me.
39. WHAT ARE YOU READING NOW? This email ... duh! Haha, just kidding. I’m between books at the moment, so I’m reading a lot of Newsweek and People.
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Starry Night.
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? The Golden Girls (I watch at least 1 episode every day) and American Idol.
42. FAVORITE SOUND? Ocean waves, cardinals chirping, laughter.
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Rolling Stones.
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Cancun. I need to change that!
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I can make people laugh. Hard.
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? St. Louis, MO.
47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? Everyone’s!
48. WHAT TIME IS IT NOW? 10:37am.
50. FAVORITE QUOTE. You have to laugh at yourself, because you’d cry your eyes out if you didn’t. –Emily Saliers

As difficult as pi??

Why do they say that something is “as easy as pie” when “pie” is not a very easy thing to do? On Sunday night, I attempted to make an apple pie, and it was sooo not easy. First I had to peel and core the apples, which sounds simple until you realize that all you have in your kitchen that’s suitable for “peeling” or “coring” is a butter knife or a steak knife. Have you ever tried to do something as delicate as peeling an apple with a steak knife? I’m just lucky that all of my appendages are still intact.
Then the directions stated that I’d need to put my pastry mixer on low to create the crust topping. Uhhh … my pastry mixer? I don’t even own a regular mixer, let alone one just for mixing pastries. I found a whisk that I thought would be a feasible substitute for said pastry mixer, but the crust never made it to the crumbly consistency that the instructions told me to achieve before pouring it over my apples. So I used nature’s pastry mixer, aka my hands. Crumbly was finally accomplished!

Clearly this pie was anything but easy. So I started to think that perhaps I’m misunderstanding the phrase … maybe it’s supposed to be “as easy as pi” but pi isn’t easy. It’s a constant, and it’s an irrational number (thank you, Mrs. McGuire, my 10th grade Algebra teacher) but it’s not easy at all.

Eating pie is pretty easy, so I started to think that maybe the saying is “as easy as eating pie” but I know I’ve never heard that before. So I’m starting a petition to banish the phrase “as easy as pie” from our vocabulary and am investigating who I can sue for false advertising. Surely there has to be some Pie Council somewhere that is just thrilled that they have successfully fooled the public into believing pie was easy. I’m on to you, Pie Council. Sleep with one eye open.

It's Tuesday. Stuart's father left us on a Tuesday....

So I wouldn't say that I've been ignoring my blog, but rather that I have decided to give more attention to other things. Things like Scrabulous and Smarty Pants on Facebook. I had no idea I was so competitive, but I really am! Today I moved into 8050th place worldwide in Smarty Pants with a score of 252,200! Woot! And I have so many Scrabulous games going on I'm now only using words that contain letters worth 5 or more points. It's horrid. No, Horrible. No, Horrendous! Double word points for me!!!



I have an interview next week for the pet-sitting job I applied for. It'll be a lot of work, but considering that I like animals more than I like some people, it will hopefully be a good match! It will be a good way to spend more time with four-legged friends since I can't have them in my apartment.

And finally, a word for Tony Pepperoni ... if you're reading this, I'm seriously mad at you. Laura and I used to have lots of fun in our carpool, but now you've made her very sad and all we discuss is why you won't call her. You are stupid and frankly I think Laura is better off without you!

Hey! Isn't that ... ??

I’ve realized that I think I see famous people way more than the average person. At least once a day I think I see a celebrity. It doesn’t help that my office contains two huge windows that overlook M Street, and if a celebrity is in town there’s a good chance that they will at some point walk past my window. It’s happened before with a tiny little chain-smoking celebrity named Eva Longoria-Parker (though she was just Eva Longoria back then) and more recently with Mia Farrow.

But more often, I’ll hear the next day that someone wildly famous was in town and they were spotted walking along M Street in Georgetown … they were right under my nose and I missed them! That’s happened before with George Clooney, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. So because there’s a real likelihood that I could see a celebrity, I’m constantly getting faked out by people who just look like celebrities.

Case in point: Monday night at the grocery store I actually went a couple aisles out of my way to follow a man I was CERTAIN was Homeland Security Director, Michael Chertoff. (it’s DC … to me, politicians fall under the category of “celebrity”, especially when they get cool guys in black suits and earpieces following them around.) But I was wrong because I saw faux-Michael Chertoff in the parking lot putting his groceries in a beat-up old 4Runner.

That same grocery store visit I thought I saw Johnny Cochran in the produce section. Yes, I know he’s dead. But the man still has to eat! Ok, no he doesn’t … but the guy I saw looked JUST like him.

Recently I thought I saw Nancy Reagan coming out of Kiehl’s across the street. But I understand that trips to Kiehl’s might be difficult when you’re hospitalized with a hip fracture.

And then there was the time that I was SURE I saw Janet Reno in the elevator, but Dave later forwarded me a news article detailing how Janet Reno was in a car accident in Florida at the time I thought I was in the elevator with her.

So the moral of my post today is: If I tell you that I saw a celebrity/politician, I’m probably mistaken. But then again, Eva Longoria, maybe I’m not.

Practical jokes aren't always practical.

Today I learned that it isn't nice to drench a paper towel in a gross perfume that smells like pancake syrup and tape it under a co-worker's desk, even if that co-worker says that nothing annoys her. Such an activity can lead to headaches, nausea, temporary blindness, and a loss of smell. Who knew?? Sorry Lori.

Where does the time go?

In between watching the total eclipse of the moon and going to the gym every night this week (Zumba again tonight, albeit with an easier instructor) I have run out of time to pen my blog. But don't worry, loyal readers - I'll be sure to have an entertaining post tomorrow. I have so much to talk about, like Erin visiting my apartment and discovering that there is a ghost portal directly above my bed! There's never a dull moment :)

For now, I will leave you with a photo of me and my dear friend, Meredith ...

Zoooooomba

Last night’s Zumba class was a killer! I could tell right away that I drank and smoked way too much over the weekend. If you aren’t familiar with Zumba, it’s a Latin-inspired cardio dance class. We do cardio versions of the samba, merengue, cumbia and salsa. You can burn about 600 calories in an average class, but our Monday night class is anything but average! I’m 99% sure our instructor used to be a German prison guard. Just when I think I’m about to pass out, she’ll yell something like “Give me more!” or “Work harder!” I mean, how is that even possible?
Instead of our normal cooldown exercises (slow step-touching, stretching) our instructor had each of us grab a mat so we could lie down to do a horizontal cooldown. I should note that, as a strict germaphobe, I don’t use the mats at the gym because I’d prefer not to contract an antibiotic-resistant staph infection. So my cooldown was spent doing everything I could not to touch the mat. I was trying so hard not to touch the mat or the surrounding floor that I’m pretty sure I achieved the ability to levitate.
Needless to say I was more exhausted AFTER the cooldown than I was prior to it. That might explain why I started seeing spots as I was driving home after class. I was trying to determine if this was a warning sign that I was about to faint at the wheel, but since the gym is only a mile from my house I decided to roll down the window and press my luck. I made it home, but it was touch and go.

I’d like to give a shout out to all of my traveling co-workers that are back in the office today after being on the road at tradeshows since the late 90’s. Oh … they’ve only been away a couple weeks? Well, welcome home anyway! It’s nice to have other people around to take the focus off of me and the mistakes I’m making! You’ve been missed!

Monday, Monday.

Since I'm new at this blogging biz-nas, I (like a dork) wrote down a list of the things that I wanted to write about today.

Random note #1 ... We went on a kegbus for Tracy's birthday this weekend, and on the way to dinner beforehand, Chris, Brent and I saw a man cross the street riding a unicycle. Yes, a unicycle. Who rides a unicycle besides clowns?? Well I was not aware that there was a clown college near the East Falls Church metro, but apparently there is.

RN #2 ... We ate dinner at a place called Elevation Burger. This restaurant is located WELL outside my Clarendon/Ballston/Rosslyn comfort zone in Falls Church, and it totally showed. We arrived to find the parking lot chock full of minivans and Volvos, each containing at least two Eddie Bauer carseats. This should have tipped me off that I was about to enter Yuppie heaven and I should have immediately run the other way. But we entered the restaurant anyway, and let me tell you ... it was like Ann Taylor herself threw up all over every person eating in this place. It was obnoxious. And the thing about yuppie couples is that they feel the need to spread their yuppie seeds by birthing as many children as they can afford to put in Montessori school. The place was crawling with little yuppie children, fresh out of the Mommy-and-Me class at the local gym. The mothers and fathers all socialized ("My Volvo is Baltic Black. What color is your Volvo, Andrew?") while the children occupied every seat in the place, leaving me, Brent and Chris to sit together at a table half-occupied by a 10-foot neon Elevation Burger window sign. Luckily, my veggie burger was delish, as were the french fries and unbaked cookies, so I'll probably go back there tonight.

RN #3 ... The kegbus was amazing! It came with a driver and a hostess. Our hostess was the lovely Kathleen, who remembered that I was from the 314/STL and would therefore drink no beer other than Bud Light. And our driver was also a firefighter/EMT, which came in QUITE handy when Tyler hit his forehead on the bus and we had to decide if he needed stitches (the driver said he didn't need them, so we didn't have to drive the kegbus to the ER). Chris tried to help Tyler by bringing him a cleansing towelette for his wound, but he accidentally brought him a beesting towelette instead so that didn't really help the gash.

RN #4 ... Sunday I watched the Daytona 500, which I find is the perfect thing to do every President's Day weekend when I'm hungover from celebrating Tracy's birthday. 200,000 people attended this year's race, which lead me to believe that I, too, should attend a NASCAR event. Ellen and I will have to decide if we want to go to Dover or to Richmond, and I'll need to get some gear so I blend in. I'm thinking about a Jeff Gordon t-shirt, a camo-colored hunting cap, stonewashed jeans and white hightop sneakers. If anyone else has any ideas to help me blend in with the NASCAR crowd, please share them with me.

OK, back to work. Tonight is Zumba with the really hard instructor! God help me.

Hello World!

So Lori just came into my office and announced she started a blog. "Kim," she said, "why don't you have a blog? Of anyone, YOU should have a blog." So with 11 minutes left in the workday, I have decided to start a blog. Here I am, world! All blogged out. Now I have to come up with funny things to post. Will I have regular readership? A public, if you will? Or will these posts be just for me? Only time will tell. And right now time is telling me that there are 6 minutes left in the workday and so it's time to start collecting my belongings so I can embark on my weekend. OH! There's a kegbus in my weekend plans so I can only imagine that I will have some pretty funny stories to post on Monday!