16 posts tagged “miami”

Well, well, well, my good people of the ROCO congregation.  It's been a while since I've heard the mighty collective voice ring out, so say it loud and say it proud...

ROCO!!

And now that the good Reverend MiamiShyner can see all of you in the back row due to the wonder of contacts, I expect to see you more often.  Not just on holidays!  You know who you are! :-P

Let's suppose that you are a Congresswoman. (Ileana Ros-Lethtinen) And your constituents are of an area where radio folk like to play pranks.(Miami)  What do you do when someone calls you claiming to be a soon-to-be high-ranking official? (Barack Obama)  Well, of course, you HANG UP ON HIM!  Ha!  Gotta love that one.

Wisdom has just been passed along to me.  This message of sure genius is as follows:

Bacon = Meat candy

Mmmm, bacon.

This is my last lazy ROCO Friday because I got clearance to do light cardio...and to buy naughty bits from Vickie's.  Life is good.

Tomorrow is Cirque day finally!  But no, I'm not excited or anything.  And I'm totally not already thinking about the next show that's coming in May and when I'll be able to afford to buy those tickets.  Nope, not thinking about that at all.

Well, my good people, I know that no one likes when the preacher goes on for too long, so let me close the sermon and move to the back so that I can shake hands and kiss babies (with gloves and a mask..I don't want your cooties).

I'm glad that you could join me and I look forward to seeing you next week.  Let the congregation say ROCO!

And remember, there is no confession for doing bad in this church, only for not living life full-out, balls to the wall.  Go out and spread the word!

Via Miami's Craigslist.

Someone needs help with an interview.

Someone else thinks that the previous person should pay a little more.  The least you could do....

Doesn't get any better than this folks!  Bienvendios a Miami is what Will Smith says.

That's what I'm figuring this guy said before he left the house.  He was driving this car:

Bmw

'Cept all his windows were tinted.  Black.  Even the front.  Which is illegal here in the great state of Cuba Florida.  Oh, and his rims were way more, well, blingy.  And, if that weren't enough, and I didn't get a picture of this since I was driving, but I did find a neat place to simulate a plate on the net.  So, yeah, here's the plate:

Plate

It wasn't the regular plate, though, it was a custom one.

Yep, F the po-lice is definitely what this guy is saying.

If you need an explanation, I'll provide it. :-)

But there will be no ROCO because I'm just not feeling it.  You may want to just skip over this post altogether because it will be full of things that I just need to get out there.

• I believe that 3 years is a decent amount of time to give something a try.  That said, Miami sucks.  No matter what you've seen on television, that's television, and living here, well, as PittGirl would say, is church. (Thanks for the shout.)
• Getting this piece of paper has become ridiculously important.  It signifies more knowledge, more money, and more distance between me and south Florida.
• <sarcasm> There is nothing more encouraging than a supervisor questioning your clothing choice of the day (that has been worn on many occasion previously) and stating, with an air of hopefulness in his/her voice, that you look as though you may have an interview today.  </sarcasm>
• I am dieting and it sucks.  Why am I dieting?  Because it is incorrect for a woman of 5 feet and 1.5 inches to weigh 140 pounds.  Three weeks in and I have lost almost 9 pounds.  That does not suck.
• Possibly because of dieting, I have recently started forgetting things and have lost my ability to focus, even on things that I enjoy.  This is bad.
• I now have two gray hairs.  At least they aren't visible.
• Steve Jobs is the devil and on July 11, I will become one of his minions.
• In four weeks and one day, I will be toasting the beginning of vacation.  Parrot Bay and mango/pineapples all around.
• I have a book rolling around in my head and I hope to push it out soon.  It is taking up too much space.  I think it's a good I'm-on-vacation-sitting-at-the-beach/pool-and-I-want-to-read-but-not-think kind of book.
• Is it football season yet?!?!  No?  Well, in the meantime, go Marlins, I guess.
• Does ANYONE think that I am coherent when I write?
• The weekend is nearly upon us and guess what fun I have in store!  Nothing like cleaning the house, eh?
• Oh, by the way, how does one tell if one is depressed?
• I am a crappy friend because I neglected to call one of my very best friends on his 30th birthday.  My bad, Ant.  Here's a shout out for your biz.  If you live in the New Jersey or five boroughs, you should stop by and give that a shot.  If you are female, even more so because the boys are eye candy.
• I miss my friends who "get me" and let me be me.  True friends are still your friends the day after you DDT them onto a concrete floor in a bar in Mexico.
• Ohhhhh, almost forgot this gem.  Kiddo's father, possibly one of THE biggest asshats moving around on two feet, had the nerve audacity balls non-functioning brain notion that I would add him as a friend on Facebook.  HAHAHAHA.  Just for kicks, I looked at his friends list.  Know what it said?  Dxxxx Kxxxxx has no friends.  Well, DUH!
• Mmm, right.  Celebrity Circus on NBC.  I have yet to watch the full episode but from the first three acts, well, not so much.  I've seen (and taught) children to do more in a week.
• I MISS MY CIRCUS STUFF!

You know, I've rambled on long enough regarding things that you, dear reader, aren't so interested in.  I leave you with wishes for a happy weekend.  Shyne on.

Is the name of a Stephen King novel.   There, I said it.  On with the post.

Yesterday was a bad day to be in Miami.  See Roboco's post about the crane collapse, there were break-ins that resulted in shootings, the road that I take to travel the 9 miles from the place I work to my home was shut down because of a very bad accident involving two motorcycles resulting in a 2 HOUR drive to get home and the side street on the way was clogged up because of another motorcycle crash in which an older guy laid it down and was laying in the street when I went past.  Yikes, what a nightmare for Miami.

There are only a few things that I am afraid of.  I mean, really afraid of.  Needles are one and bats are another.  Not like baseball bats, flying rats.  Those nasty little buggers.  I've never been a fan ever since one dive-bombed my head when I was walking home at dusk when I was around 10 years old.  ACK!

When I lived in Mexico, there were bats everywhere.  I was freaked out all the time heading back to my room.  There were places I wouldn't walk because I knew they were hiding in there.  Slightly irrational?  Yes.  I've seen them on the ground.  I know how big they are.  They're small.  That doesn't make them any less yucky.

Last night I dreamt that one flew into the house when we left our sliding glass door open.  This wasn't a small black bat.  This thing was huge and brown.  I think that's why I called it a coconut bat* in the dream.  It was as big as a freaking coconut!  Lovey shooshed it out of the house while I screamed.  I woke up this morning thinking, man I'm glad we got that stupid bat out of the house.  It was just that real.

* I don't think there's any such thing as a coconut bat.

Today, Kiddo goes to Mom's, thankfully not on American Airlines as I'm watching CNN and they just cancelled about 200 flights.  Tomorrow, we leave the country!  No, I'm not excited or anything.  :-D

It's hump day, ya'll.  Get your hump on!  Have a great day!  HEP.

Last night, I was watching American Idol with Kiddo.  Yes, I know it's a crappy show but it's fun to watch it.  Auditions here, auditions there, and hey, wait a second, I know her!  Having worked in a lot of places and met a lot of people, I've always thought that it couldn't be too much longer before I saw someone I knew on TV.

Lindsey is a girl I met in Crested Butte.  She was a ski instructor there.  Cool gig.  Anyway, she really does have a good voice but unfortunately wasn't able to present herself to the best of her abilities.  I'm pretty sure she was nervous and you could hear it in her voice.  I've heard her perform live and she's awesome so screw you Simon, Paula and Randy!  At least she has a cool job in the Air Force flying C-130s.

On to this morning where the National Weather Service issued a dense fog warning for the area.  This must have been the reason that at 6 this morning when I let the dog out, I thought that something had to be on fire.  Thick is an understatement.  It does, however, make for some cool pictures.

Have a wonderful Thursday all!

Late last week, while perusing Craigslist, I saw an ad.  I opened it to see what it had to say.  It went a little something like this:

Casting a new $1,000,000 Game Show for unnamed network called "Here's The Name of Our Show!!" hosted by a fairly popular comedian! We're looking for 18+, FUN and INTERESTING contestants who love to KARAOKE and know the lyrics to the biggest hits. This is NOT a talent contest. However, you must be willing to SING YOUR HEART OUT! We are going to be in Miami this weekend running auditions. So if you or any of your friends would be interested in auditioning, please come meet us on: date, time, place.

I had seen a commercial for said program and thought at the time, "That would probably be fun."  So, for shits and giggles, I sent them an email and scored a VIP pass.  Hooray!

There were no set times, just that they were starting at noon.  I've never been to a casting call, but I've seen enough reality television to know that people line up around blocks and stuff for things like this.  I decide that I'll show up a little before noon since I am so cool that I have a VIP pass.  Upon arrival, I was shocked to see no line around the corner, just maybe 15 or 20 people milling around.  They split us up into VIPs and commoners and then escorted us into the venue.

We filled out some paperwork and took a quiz regarding our knowledge of music.  After that, we were separated into groups yet again, and gathered around a table where we took turns introducing ourselves to the group and the casting guy.  I believe there were 10 people in my group and I was next to last to go.  The enthusiasm level was sub par, let's say equivalent to how excited one would get if a dust bunny had just hopped by.  Now, like I said, I've never been to a casting call, but I'm bright enough to know that networks don't want people who will act like a log on their new show.  As we go around the semi-circle, the casting director looks as though he may fall asleep soon.  That was how I knew it was time to let out the alter-ego. 

Sunny, my not-so-evil twin, only comes out when provoked or I need her for something.  She's the happy, bubbly, really annoying girl that is continuously smiling and has a joke for everyone.  I had put her away when I left Club Med, but decided to let her out for some air. 

Suffice it to say that at least the CD woke up when I spoke.  After everyone was finished, he looked at us all and said that some of us would have some more paperwork to fill out and others may get a call later in the week.  You know what that means: if you get paperwork, you have a chance, if not, thanks for coming, have a nice life.  He went around the table and when he got to me he told me that I did horribly on the quiz.  I already knew that.  But, he liked me so he gave me another quiz and told me to "do better".  And that is exactly what I did.  I only missed one on the second quiz.

After they checked the quiz, they came over and told me that I was invited to the callback.  It was happening the next day.  They threw out a time and I said I would be there.  Look out world, here I come!

DAY 2

Today I actually have an appointment time of 2:30.  I figure it can't take too long as yesterday I was already back at home by 2pm and it was an open call.  I arrive at 2 just to give myself extra time though.  Upon entering the building, I am greeted by a girl who says that they're running an hour behind so just have a seat.  Okay, whatever, shit happens.  I made a new friend of the girl whose appointment was to be before mine.  They had this crazy "line" that snaked through some tables, along to a couch and then to two different stools right before the door behind which was the CD.  We sat around watching television, reading magazines, and patiently waiting our respective turns.  After an hour, I ventured over to the table where some of the casting folks were sitting.  I asked if I could get an update on where we were in the process.  Meanie said that we were in the same place as an hour ago.  I wanted to slap the curls right out of the bitch's head, but I refrained as I figured it would hamper my chances of being on TV.  Nicey, a new girl, gave me a much nicer and more helpful response.  Dummy, he just sat there looking well, dumb.

I went back to the table to report my findings.  About 10 minutes passed before Meanie came over to our table all kinds of apologetic with explanations and such.  I dismissed her with the same attitude she gave me.  By this time, it's nearing 5 o'clock, but I had made it over to the couch which equalled the last stage of the line.  I went to visit the ladies room, because after all, you can only hold in all the Coke for so long, and when I returned, I was informed that someone was placed in front of me in the line.  Okay, whatever, it's only one person.

So, I'm getting excited, it's almost my turn.  It's down to only two people left in front of me.  This, dear reader, is the point in which the powers that be (or the powers that wannabe as the case may be) decide that they're going to take a new approach to the process.  Meanie comes over to the couch and points out a few people and tells them to get in line, but to me she says "You hang around a little while."  Excuse me?  What exactly have I been doing for the last <watch check> 4!! hours?!?!  I watched people who certainly arrived after me get launched into the line before me.  I have now gone from 2 people in front of me to at least 10 people in front of me.  If my math is correct, I've gone from another half hour or so of waiting to a minimum of another hour and a half to two hours of waiting.  Call me crazy, but my miniscule shot at winning one million dollars is no longer worth another two or more hours of my weekend.

I went over to wish my new friend luck and I sat and chatted for a few minutes with her mother.  I then approached the table where the casting people were sitting.  It went something like this:

Me:  Do you need this stuff back? (Application, paperwork, quizzes)

Meanie: Why?

Me:  I'm leaving.

Nicey:  Oh no.

Dummy: Why?

Me: It's a little disconcerting to sit here and wait patiently in line for four hours and when it gets to two people in front of me to have you change up the line and put people in front of me who just arrived.

D:  Well, I hope that's not why you're leaving.

N:   Please don't go.

Me:  Goodbye.

I headed towards the door, full of complete and utter disgust for the entire process and the waste of my time that it was.  I was almost to the door when I felt a hand on my shoulder.  Mind you, not the best idea to go sneaking up on people since that's how people get hurt, but I turned around and there stood D.

D:  Look, I know it seems crazy, but we're doing it this way to (and this is a direct quote) make your wait shorter.

Me:  You're making my wait shorter by putting 10 more people in front of me?

D:  I know, it might not make sense, but it's true.

Me:  Ok.  Goodbye.

And out I walked. 

So, I tend to think I had gotten good vibes from the CD both on the first day and when I had seen him on the second day.  I am 99% sure that the CD is the guy in charge of the "entertainment company" that was running the casting call.  Other people have to have gotten tired of the crap and left, but I didn't witness it.  I thought it odd that they tried to make such ridiculous excuses when I was leaving.  I guess that's the way casting calls go though and now I know.  I know not to go to another one.  My only question is do I just let it go or do I drop the CD a line and let him know how disappointed I was with the way everything was handled?  I'm open to suggestions.

PS. On the application, they asked if I had a website.  I gave them my Vox address.  I hope they read this.

This morning I had the pleasure of visiting some of the finer government offices here in Miami.  The entire story is another post for another day.  Like many downtown areas, parking is a bitch.  Even though it meant I would have to backtrack almost all the way home after my appointment before heading out to work, I figured it would be worth it to take public transportation, ie the Metrorail, not to have to promise my next child, an arm and the title to my car to the parking attendant.

Despite this wonderfully wonderful climate, people here are still pissy 24/7.  But of course they are, they still have to go to work unlike the tons of people I see scamper past our building on a daily basis (I work on South Beach).  The ride into downtwn was uneventful, meaning, thankfully, no one tried to strike up a conversation.  I handled my business in a manner befitting a single mom who is completely fed up with the system and wonders why said system makes it so difficult to track down a deadbeat dad. (Thank goodness for loving and supportive boyfriend.)

As I was standing on the platform waiting for train number 2 to get back to my car, I noticed an older gentleman in an electric wheelchair.  It's possible that he was paralyzed from the neck down, but I didn't ask.  I stepped onto the train while keeping an eye on him.  He seemed to be waiting for the crowd to clear before attempting to board.  When the time finally approached for him to get on the train, he started moving forward but he got stuck.  You'd think that train stations would be a little better designed, but they aren't and so stuck he was. (His front tire had turned sideways and was stuck in the gap between the platform and the train.)  At that moment, I held my phone in one hand, briefcase in the other.  It only took a split second to realize that of this train full of people, more than 60 percent male, no one was going to help.  God bless Miami.

After cupping my phone ear to shoulder and slinging my briefcase over the other shoulder, I got behind his chair and tried to get him on the train.  Those chairs are heavy.  Way heavier than I imagined.  Or I'm weak.  Way weaker than I used to be.  Either way, I had damn near thrown out my back and blew out a knee (note to self, don't try it in heels next time) before any of the lazy bastards on the train got up to help me.  It's amazing how people have no respect for others.  I wonder how much longer he would have been stuck if I hadn't helped.  It's scary here.

This post has no end.

For those of you that don't know, I'm a resident of south Florida, Miami to be exact.  I've lived here now for 3 years.  It hasn't been all candy and flowers, but it hasn't been that bad.  If, by some chance, you don't read these sorts of trivial things, Miami was voted country's rudest/worst drivers.  You can laugh about it and point fingers and joke, but it's sadly true.  I've lived in many places both in and out of this country, and Miami is the worst.  (And no, I'm not going to just sit and complain, we're moving next year.)

I didn't start this post, however, simply to say the driving is bad here.  This is a wake-up call, a warning, a shout-out, whatever you want to call it, that we, as responsible driving adults, need to SLOW DOWN on the roads.  Saturday morning I was reading the Miami Herald and under the breaking news was a story about a pedestrian being struck and killed by a car while trying to cross US1.  This highway is dangerous.  People are dying trying to cross it and nothing is being done.  The most tragic part is that this pedestrian was only 14 years old.  A young life lost before even having a chance to reach its potential.  Parents have been devastated.  A whole school is this morning trying to cope with the loss of their friend and classmate Vincent Delmore.  I know this is true because my daughter was friends with this young man.  She created a

memorial website.

It's hard enough to explain death to the young, but at least it is typically an older relative.  How do you help a child cope with the senseless death of a friend? 

I beg you, I implore you, I ask you kindly from the depths of my heart, le pregunto, please slow down on our roadways.  There is really very little that can be that important for you to endanger the lives of those in our community and the lives of our children.  Please, leave 5 minutes earlier or just be 5 minutes late (nothing starts on time anyways) and slow down and pay attention to the road.

My heart goes out to every child at Ponce this morning and especially to the parents of this young man.  I'm so sorry for your loss.