Liar, Liar

When I was six years old and in the first grade, I used to love reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, Trixie Belden books, and the Bobbsey Twins books. So did a friend of mine in my class. Except the friend would carry around a book with her almost all the time, and I remember being with her several times when adults would make comments about how smart she was for reading chapter books at that age. And I would think - Hey, I read those books too! Where are my compliments?

My friend also got a lot of attention around this time of year. Her dad was Jewish, and her mom was Christian. We had to watch these film strips in school about Hannukah and Christmas, and my friend would brag about how she got to celebrate both holidays. So when we had to make a little holiday mobile to hang above our desk, I decorated one side of my mobile with "Merry Christmas" and the other side with "Happy Hannukah." Then I told everyone that my dad was Jewish and my mom was Christian and we celebrated both holidays. Need attention much?

My mom found out about my lies. She asked me, "Do you know what religion Dad is?" I said, "Yes, he is Lutheran." And that was the end of the conversation It was never mentioned again. So apparently my mom thought I was just so dumb that either I thought my dad was Jewish or I didn't know the difference between being Lutheran and Jewish. Or my mom just thought I was a liar and decided to accept it. Perhaps she was thinking of the time in kindergarten that I forged my mom's signature on my report card because I was too embarrassed to show her that I got a Not Satisfactory in shoe-tying. As though my mom didn't already know that I didn't know how to tie my shoes? And no one would be able to tell the difference between the handwriting of a kindergartner attempting cursive for the first time and the handwriting of my mom? Obviously, I was a child genius.

My 200th Post!

Thirteen Things I Worry About But Shouldn't

1. What should I bring to H's friend's get-together on Friday?
2. Well, I am already planning on bringing a bottle of Boone's Farm (no, I'm serious; I owe him a bottle), but what besides that?
3. Where can I buy non-itchy pantyhose that is inexpensive? Target stopped selling normal brand pantyhose, and I don't want to go to a department store because it will be too expensive and I will probably get a run in the hose the first time I wear it.
4. When am I finally going to get my two new pairs of pants hemmed? Will my tailor lady remember that I made an appointment over a month ago and then forgot to show up? Will she be pissed?
5. What should I wear for my couple-date on Saturday night?
6. What if H says something weird and then the female half of the couple is scared to hang out with me at work? I only have two friends at work; I can't afford to lose one! (Ok, I do actually have a bunch of friendly acquaintances, but only two people I call to complain to or to get coffee with.)
7. What if I say something weird and then the female half of the couple is scared to hang out with me at work? (By the way, neither H nor I work with the male half of the couple.)
8. When am I going to finish my Christmas shopping?
9. What should I get my dad, H's dad, and my mom's s.o.? I thought of something good last night for one of them, but I have already forgotten both the item and which male it was for.
10. What if I run into my ex-friend at the No Coast Craft-o-Rama?
11. Can I afford to order new contacts this month so that I don't have to wear my glasses every day?
12. Should I add more blogs to my sidebar? There are blogs I should add - Jay Are's blog, LC's blog, and Janet's blog - but I don't want to end up with hundreds of links. And I am lazy.
13. How jealous are the neighbors going to be of our new, giant, awesome snowblower/freedom fighter?

The Blog Tour Continues

Meeting two bloggers in the last five days was not enough. So tonight I met Stefanie. She actually lives in the Twin Cities and was kind of enough to meet me at a restaurant close to my work and bus stop, so I didn't even have to drive to see her. I was tired from working all day, and my hair was doing some wacky things (i.e. sticking out yet also laying totally flat against my head- a complicated hair maneuver), but I think it was fun. I was kind of boring, but I am more fun on the weekends, I swear. I will definitely invite Stefanie out to try some Guitar Hero. Or perhaps something more normal. I do have other interests besides Guitar Hero. Such as... ummm... drinking? Eating? Reading books? Oil painting?

Stefanie mentioned tonight that posting every day this month has been interesting because normally she makes sure a post is perfect (aka decent and interesting) before she publishes it on her blog. I don't usually even proofread a post before I put it on my blog. But usually the posts that I think about not publishing (usually the dorkiest and most embarrassing ones) are the ones that get the most comments. I just write whatever I am thinking, and then let the whole world see it. So there you go. Kind of weird, now that I think about it.

I Was In A Car With H For Twelve Hours And We Both Survived

We have done a lot of driving since Wednesday evening.

First, we got to meet Grumpy Frump at a secret location. Maybe it was on our way to my family's house. Maybe we had to drive hours out of our way, but we think Grumpy Frump is worth it. Wouldn't you like to know? I won't tell. But I will reveal one secret. Grumpy Frump's real name is Gertrude Frumpensteen. Here is a picture of GF and me:

Click on the picture to see it, and then use the back button to get back to my riveting stories.
You can't really tell from the picture, but GF is very cute. She also has amazing hair (which was so amazing, apparently, it could not be depicted in my picture). She is also really funny and very friendly, and I really liked her. I didn't think she was grumpy or frumpy at all! GF also had to meet H since he was driving with me, and she was very nice about it and didn't say, "Why did you bring that super tall man with you?" H liked GF as much as I did.

We had a great Thanksgiving meal with my family. My mom is such a terrific cook, and she really enjoys cooking. I wish I had inherited some of that, but instead, I make a lot of spaghetti. Not on Thanksgiving Day. Just in general.

I went shopping with my mom and sister, and later with my mom and H. We had a good time, but I still don't know what to get my mom and sister for Christmas. I finally gave my sister her birthday present (only two months late- gah!), and she seemed to really like it. I gave her two cd collections of stories from This American Life. My sister has a lot of driving coming up, so the cds will give her something to entertain herself while driving through the middle of nowhere, on her way to take her boards to become a veterinarian. I can't even spell vet, and my sister is smart enough to pass the boards. Geez.

H and I also got to go to a college basketball game. I LOVE LOVE LOVE college basketball, so I was excited to see the game.



I loved being a part of the sea of blue.
Obviously, I am not much of a sportswriter. So my summary is: the game was awesome. My team won, which made the game even more awesome. The end.

After the game, H and I met up with Nat. Once again, H came along with me. After he met GF and really liked her, he was excited to meet another blogger. Warning to any bloggers I may meet up with in the future: I suck at arranging meet-ups. I changed the time on Nat several times, and then I showed up at the wrong place. Excellent! After I called Nat and she realized that I am mentally challenged, she drove over to where I was, and I am so glad she did. She is hilarious. And very cute. I had a really fun time. H also really liked her. Nat's account of our meeting is here. There is also a picture that proves how cute she is and that neither of us are pervy old men.

So everything was really fun, but the most surprising part of the weekend was that H and I made it back to Minnesota in one piece. Twelve hours is a long time to spend in the car with someone. Especially with someone like me who takes pictures to entertain herself.

I kind of want to live in Beebeetown, just so I can say that I live in Beebeetown.

[picture has been removed]
H pondering some deep thoughts.

[picture has been removed]
Aren't you glad you don't have to take car trips with me?

[picture has been removed]

I Am Also Thankful for Robot Movies

So it is late, and I want to go to bed because I just finished some really, really boring work and I am tired and H is like, "COME TO BED ALREADY," but I am not going to be able to post again for several days, so I must get one more post out before I go. I like to think you care and would miss it if I didn't post, but in reality, you are probably thinking, "Eh." Or you could be thinking, "What does it mean when a guy says don't call me I'll call you?" because that is the exact search phrase someone just used to find my blog. And, dear searcher, it means that you should not call him, and he is not going to call you. No one really says this though, I hope. But then why is someone searching for this? I don't know. Where was I? Oh, NOWHERE BECAUSE I AM JUST BABBLING.

It's almost Thanksgiving so I should probably talk about things for which I am thankful.

I am thankful that I was not involved in the horrible accident I witnessed this morning. There was only one car in between me and a dump truck that went crazy and dumped an entire truckful of sand into the middle of the street while taking out a street light and the entire metal post and arm connected to the light.

I am thankful that I will get to spend time with my mom, her s.o., my sister, and H this weekend.

I am thankful that Jenny introduced me to beergaritas.

I am thankful for all the comments on my blog.

I am thankful for wonderful friends like the Gopester who reads my blog but doesn't comment. (Secret note for G: a certain high school coach never did contact me though he apparently stalks you on the internet. How rude!)

I am thankful for my job.

I am thankful for free tickets to a really fun college basketball game this weekend.

I am thankful for Diet Dr Pepper. And regular Dr Pepper. But not Caffeine Free Diet Dr Pepper.

I am thankful that the Holiday House is decorating for Christmas this year! Already there are lights up, and there is a little fence-type thing made of giant plastic candy canes.

For what are you thankful?

Word of Mouth

I forgot to bring a book with me today. So I wrote this entry by hand on the bus to kill time. Speaking of killing time on a commute, I need to come up with some ways to entertain myself on my Thanksgiving car ride. I forgot to check out some books on cd from the library this weekend. I enjoy listening to books on cd on long car drives because it makes the time go so much faster, and I don't get tired of it as quickly as I do singing along to music (because I can't just listen - I must sing).

CDs I Have Checked Out of the Library for Long Car Rides

1. Harry Potter books- H and I enjoyed listning to several of these. I would not describe myself as an HP fan, but this is good car material. One time I was embarrassed to check out the cds, so I made up a story for the librarian about how I was taking a long car ride with my niece. I am sure that 1) the librarian didn't care why I was checking out the cds and 2) she didn't believe a word of my story.

2. Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell- I had already read the book, but I checked out the cds anyway because I love the way Sarah Vowell reads. She did not disappoint.

3. a Mary Higgins Clark mystery- I am not into mysteries, but I thought it might be good for the car. But I have no idea whether the story was any good because H and I could not stop laughing at the reader. He affected a crazy vaudeville voice so that it was like listening to a bad spoof of a 1920s radio show. Bad.

4. a collection of This American Life stories- Some made me laugh so hard I cried, and some just made me cry. Really good but not recommended for public transportation. (I was alone in my car, so it was ok.)

5. Car Talk cds- H says only 50+ year old men love Car Talk. So Nat and I should have at least one thing in common because I freaking love Car Talk. H acts all annoyed by the Car Talk guys, but I think he secretly loves the show.

6. Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants- Awesome. I will not tell you whether H and I repeatedly rewound to a certain part to figure out whether Bridget lost her virginity to the soccer coach guy. (She did.) And when the cancer girl died, we may or may not both have been quite teary.

Actually, I Was the Winner Last Time We Played Trivial Pursuit

H sings along to the song playing in the sporting goods store.

Me: I can't believe you know this song.

H: Haven't you ever seen Short Circuit?

Me: Yes, once in the fourth grade.

H: That's no excuse. This is the theme song from the movie.

Our Friend Who Is Shopping With Us: Is the first Short Circuit the one where he gets gold-plated?

H: Nickel-plated.

Friend: Now I understand why I lost to you in Trivial Pursuit.

H: I can't remember anything useful, but I know the name of the actor who played Grandpa Munster.

Me: I love you, you freak.

Saturday, In the Park, I Think It Was November 18th

H went to the Minnesota/Iowa game today. He came home and is now watching Ohio State/Michigan. I told him I want to play Guitar Hero II, but he said I have to wait until after the football game. Boo. One football game per day should be enough.

H had a fun time at the Minnesota game, especially since Minnesota won both the game and Floyd of Rosedale. Minnesota's football team must have more rivalries than any other team because it seems like every Big 10 game Minnesota plays involves a weird trophy. Today the trophy was a bronze pig named Floyd of Rosedale. There is also the Little Brown Jug (Michigan), Paul Bunyan's Axe (Wisconsin), and the Governor's Victory Bell (Penn State).

I just went downstairs to do some research on the subject of these rivalries (i.e., ask H why Minnesota is so weird), and H is asleep on the couch. But I am sure that if I turned the channel he would wake up and be pissed because he is watching the game, dagnabbit! (Haven't I mentioned that H is an 1890s prospector?)

***

Nat has asked me: Don't be embarrassed, R! I'm sure that when you initially realize that I am a 50 year old man with an overbite, it will be scary. But then we will still be friends and drink coffee. Right?

Right, Nat. Don't call me; I'll call you.

***

This new blogger beta thing lets you label posts, which I like. At the bottom of each post, it says, "Labels for this post: e.g. scooters, vacation, fall." Scooters? Seriously?

***

Most importantly, the beergaritas were excellent!

Boots, Bags, Ridiculous Make-Up-Induced Paranoia, and Beergaritas

Since you asked, I shall provide a link to the boots I bought in black. I also bought the matching bag in black. Then I can wear the boots when I walk to the bus, while carrying my dress shoes in my matching bag. It is going to be so sweet! Umm, ok, it is not really not that exciting, but it will be better than last year when I had to shovel my driveway in sneakers or in my nice dressy boots. So the nice dressy boots are actually from Target and only cost $20; let's not get so picky here.

In other product news, I bought the Bare Escentuals foundation this weekend, based on a recommendation from Red. I think it is pretty good, but since I haven't worn any foundation since I was probably 15 years old, I am not really an expert on these things. I will say that I think it evens out my skin tone and the blush makes me look less zombie-like. I bought the makeup at Sephora, but did you know the Mall of America has a store that sells nothing but Bare Escentuals? It does; it is called Face. And there was a huge freaking line all the way out the door of the store.

So speaking of makeup, there was a girl I went to junior high school and high school with who looked like this for all of 8th grade through 10th grade.






For some reason you have to click on the picture to see it, and then hit back to get back to my blog.

Note the different colored neck and face as well as the perfectly circular areas of extremely bright blush. My friend who is the last person to ever say anything bad about anyone used to call this girl Clown Girl. I would realize if I looked like that, right? Because this girl looked like a clown for THREE YEARS without realizing it. Stefanie, you have to tell me if I look like that girl, ok?

Finally, in other news, we are having a Guitar Hero party tomorrow night. H has invited his friends over to rock out with Guitar Hero II, which we do not own, but I assume someone else is bringing. This time, I will be supplementing the Guitar Hero with some beergaritas!

I'm So Excited!

So, how's it going? Good? That's nice. Sorry about not posting yesterday. I was in a really bad mood, and when I tried to write, the bad mood filled the page, and it was bad. Therefore, I did not write anything, and I am feeling much better today.

Thirteen Exclamations for Today

1. I got some (snow) boots in the mail!
2. And a bag that matches!
3. I am wearing the boots right now because I love them!
4. And because I am a nerd!
5. I am going to meet Stefanie soon (in a couple of weeks)!
6. I am also going to meet Grumpy Frump and Nat!
7. I am on a freakish internet-meeting streak!
8. I am kind of embarassed to admit that I am meeting People From The Internet!
9. Just like I am kind of embarassed that I have a blog!
10. I should embrace my Internet Nerdery!
11. Not that you are a nerd! I was only referring to myself and my nerdy ways! You are very cool! And popular! You are like a combination of George Clooney and a young Audrey Hepburn!
12. I have been really busy at work, so I have been drinking a lot of coffee, and coffee makes me really hyper! I bet you could have never guessed that!
13. I think I accidentally checked out a romance book from the library! I would have realized this if I had looked at the back cover, but instead I realized it when I started reading it on the bus and came across sentences such as [opening to a random page], "A blond brow lifted, and she gave him another penetrating look," and [looking for one of many weird romance passages], "Slowly his kisses became more languorous until finally his lips settled on the feminine core of her and lingered there." EW!
But anyway, check out the back cover!

Sign Language

Another attorney and I participated in a conference call with some clients today. The attorney was not someone who I had worked with before, so I am not used to her style. During our conference call, the attorney made many odd hand gestures that I can only describe as:

traveling
around the world
the fish was this big
climbing a ladder
emphatic pointing
riding the wave
rolling with my homeys
spirit fingers

I have no idea what any of those gestures meant. Even the pointing. OMG, the pointing. At what was she pointing? And why was she so emphatic about it?

She was trying to communicate with me through these gestures, but I could only stare at her blankly. There was one set of gestures that she repeated several times in a row.

I just stared.

She repeated the gestures more emphatically.

I blinked.

She gestured again and then mouthed, "Ask him."

"You want me to ask who what?" I whispered.

She whispered, "Write this down and ask him."

I realized that she meant I was supposed to write down what the client was saying and then ask the senior partner about the issue. Unfortunately, by then the client had moved on to another subject and I had missed the entire discussion because I was trying to translate weird hand signals, so I just wrote down in my notes, "Ask Partner something about the agreement," so that it looked like I was writing down something important.

I had to follow up with the client later, so I was able to figure out the issue that I had missed in the call, so it all worked out ok. Except I am scared to ever be on a call with this woman again. Who knows what else she was signalling to me.

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

I used to work with a woman who was about my age. We became friends and ate lunch together every day. We would talk about our bosses, our assistants, our boyfriends, our families, and more. We found that we had a lot of things in common, and I really enjoyed spending my lunch hour with her.

The more we got to know each other, the more negative she became. She started looking for a new job, and whenever she had a job interview, she would tell me that the interview went horribly and that the job was bad and she probably didn't want it anyway. She told me her boyfriend was probably going to break up with her at any moment. She told me that she had to live her life in a very specific way or her parents would hate her forever. She told me she hated her house and wanted to move. She told me that she hated the city where we lived. Essentially, she hated everything.

My diploma was on the wall in my office. There was a notation on my diploma to show I graduated summa cum laude. She told me that her school was soooo much better than mine, and her school didn't just give summa cum laude away to everyone like my school did. I told her that in my graduating class, only 5 people graduated summa cum laude. That shut her up. For about a minute. She basically told me that because my school was not as good as hers, I didn't deserve my job.

When I was ready to move on to a new job and started getting job interviews, she would tell me that all the companies that wanted to interview me were horrible places to work. And then when I got a job, she told me that my schedule would be terrible and I probably wouldn't like the company. She gave me the least sincere, "That's great," I have ever heard.

I realized that I dreaded going to lunch with my "friend," and that every day when I came back from lunch, I was seriously depressed. I didn't want to tell her that she was making me want to stab myself in eye with a fork, so I just started telling her that I didn't have time for a lunch break. Eventually, she got the message and left me alone. Maybe that is mean, but I don't feel bad about it, and I felt like a weight had been lifted after I stopped spending time with her. If I had to deal with the situation again, I would do the same thing.

Strangers on the Light Rail

Last night, I took the light rail home from work. When I got on the train, I sat in the front car. There was a guy across the aisle from me who looked about 17. He quietly asked, "Excuse me, but do you have a cell phone I could borrow to make one call?" He could have run off the train with my phone or even just continued to sit there for the rest of the trip but refused to give back my phone, and what was I going to do about it? Nothing. So I smiled politely and said no.

As the train started moving, I thought, "Oh no! What if someone calls me? The guy will hear my phone ringing. Awkward!"

Then we reached the next stop. I realized that the problem was not going to be that someone might call me. The problem was going to be that I needed to call H when we got to the next stop to tell him to come pick me up at the usual light rail station. I just told the guy I don't have a phone. I think he might notice I lied to him when I take out my phone and use it. Should I get up and move to another car? Should I just use my phone and hope the guy is not a crazy person who is going to freak out? He seems pretty normal. Shoot. The guy is now using his chest as a drum and thumping his chest to a beat. Is he crazy or just a bored teenager? Maybe he will get out at the next stop. Ok, he didn't get off. I will give him one more stop while I pretend to read my book. Ok, he didn't get off at this stop either. Screw it, I'm using my phone.

So I called H. I didn't look over to gauge the reaction of the guy or look at him for the rest of the trip. When we got off my stop, H wasn't there yet. I turned around to make sure the guy didn't follow me off the train. He didn't. So I waited in a little shelter next to a woman about my age who was also waiting for a ride. We had some polite weather conversation and then I told her my story about the awkwardness on the train. I don't know why I really even have a blog, because I just tell people all these stories anyway.

It's Still Thursday

I am so embarrassed. Someone (in Germany) googled "queen of the dorks" and found my blog. My blog is in the top 5 for that search. Why can't I be in the top 5 for something much cooler? For my Thursday Thirteen, I am listing thirteen search terms I wish would lead people to my blog.

1. -R- is awesome
2. hilarious blog
3. OMG she should totally be an author or something because she is such a good writer
4. What up bizatch
5. Taylor Pancake (I actually am #5 in this search, and I know so because I get several searches per week looking for ol' Mr. Pancake)
6. I wish H were my husband
7. husband powers activate (I am #10 in this search!)
8. u r so hott (just to mix it up a bit)
9. perfect shoes
10. having Veterans Day off is for suckas and government employees
11. non-gangsta awards (I am #1, baby!)
12. seven inch zipper
13. my anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hon

Represent

I voted. And I even got a sticker.

H and I have stayed up late to watch election results. But I can only watch the pundits say the same things so many times, so now I am going to bed.

H's mom wants us to go on an H family trip next summer. I am anti-H-family-trip, whereas H likes to remain silent when the topic comes up. So it is left to me to come up with excuses as to why we can't go. Fun times. Maybe I will tell H's mom that I am too busy with my oil painting and studying of the American revolution.

And now a message from H himself:
this is h, i rule, repubs suck, that is all

He is so eloquent. Swoon.

Yo

H grew up on a farm. And yet, we have so many older pictures of H in which he is making pseudo-gang signs. H has a law degree, is white, and currently lives really far out in the suburbs. He is as non-gangsta as someone can possibly be. Besides H's brother. If there were a Non-Gangsta Award, H's brother would win it. Although, I am sure I would be in the top 10 for making up something called the Non-Gangsta Award. That is pretty non-gangsta of me.


So what is with my blog today? I know it exists, and yet, I cannot see it. Are you there, blog? It's me, Margaret. I am hoping the mystery of the disappearing blog is why my stats are so low today. Otherwise, you all hate me, and that is just mean. I can tell how many people look at my blog each day. Today, the number was about 1/8 of the usual number. Come back, everyone! I am boring, but I am here! Feel free to make suggestions for what I should blog about during this month of Blogging Every Day That I Have Internet Access, Even If That Means I Have to Write Posts That Kind of Insult (But Not Really) My Brother-In-Law.

PS Go tell Lawyerish how amazing she is for running the NYC marathon on Sunday!

The In Crowd

I think I went to the most annoying Starbucks ever today. My fellow patrons were pretty ridiculous. In one corner, we had two 40-ish women discussing how friendly they could be with men without "leading them on." They decided it was inappropriate for either of them to be alone with a man because "who knows what could happen." In another corner, a 19-ish student was trying to get the guy she was with to take her to dinner. She would talk about her boyfriend in the first half of a sentence, and then put her hand on the guy's hand and say, "I'm just SO hungry, but I can't afford to eat at a restaurant tonight." The guy ended up leaving without her, and then she called someone else and invited him or her to dinner. Then there was teenage boy in the porkpie hat, trying to impress an incredibly stupid teenage girl. One of the amazing facts he used to impress the girl was that he realized a few weeks ago that he and his three brothers all have names that start with the letter J. I wish I were exaggerating. Finally, we have the Russian 30-year-old and her mother. The mother wore salmon-colored capri pants with black pantyhose and black slippers. The daughter wore black high-heeled ankle boots, white tube socks, gray capri leggings under a super-short denim mini-skirt, a white t-shirt with gold leggings, and a denim jacket that only covered her shoulders and chest. I realize that I should not exactly be making fun of anyone's fashion choices, but I think my Mom Pants are the height of fashion in comparison to these ladies' outfits. So obviously, I was really productive today.

Must Get Pants Off Top of Blog

I checked out a laptop from work so that I could work yesterday while H was doing conference stuff. But the wireless connection at the hotel was weak or slow, or my laptop is defective, and I couldn't get on my company's network. So now while H and our friend go to a movie, I have to do some work. Boo.

London Calling

I have a problem. I get crushes on men with British or Irish accents. Not all men with those accents. H's uncle, for example, is a British man that I don't have a crush on because that would just be weird. [H just read this and asked to which uncle I am referring. Umm... THE BRITISH ONE.] But dudes my age with all their teeth... aw, yeah. [H's uncle has all his teeth, as far as I know. He is just H's uncle, which is somehow incestuous even though he is not related to H or me by blood, and anyway, I am just ending this bracket now.]

It is my dream that someday, the head partner guy at work will come into my office and say, "-R-, we have this really important project in London that only you can do, so we are sending you to London for six months. You will have to work up to six hours a day, and have the rest of your day for sightseeing. And we will pay for H to go with you." It is going to be marvelous!

But anyway, today this guy from London was visiting our firm, and a guy I worked with asked if I wanted to go to lunch with the Londoner and him. My answer was, "YESSSSSSSSSS.......... Damn I have a stupid conference call at noon. NOOOOOOOOOO!"

It is probably a good thing that I couldn't attend the lunch and fall in crush with the Londoner though. This is what I was wearing today:


A red v-neck sweater and black pants. The outfit appears decent from afar.


But check this out:

'Tis my secret shame. The fly on these pants is SEVEN. INCHES. LONG. OMG.Do you think this is the "London Bridge" Fergies refers to in her song? And if so, why does she have pants with a seven-inch zipper?

I bought these pants at least 6 years ago and then never got them hemmed, so I couldn't wear them. I finally got them hemmed, and now I realize that they have the hugest crotch ever. OMG. But I must wear them anyway because they were expensive, and I have had them for six years and moved them to 3 different houses. I must get my money's worth. However, I don't think London Dude needs to see them.

My Bad List - Another Thursday Thirteen

Twice last week I had to stand for the entire bus ride to work. This week I had to stand once. I never realized how lurchy the bus was before. Let me reassure you that it is very lurchy, and I almost fell over multiple times. I was telling H about it, and he was upset that no one had offered their seat to me. At the time, it hadn't even occurred to me that someone might offer their seat to me. It was my fault that I didn't get to the bus stop earlier, so I didn't feel like anyone should get up for me.

This morning, I got the last seat on the bus. Yes! The last seat was in the middle of a little bench that can hold three people, but the girl on the left was taking up more than her fair share of the bench. She was not physically large, she was just sitting across two seats. I didn't care that she obviously did not want to make room for me because I was not going to stand again. I just smushed myself between the girl and some older guy and pulled out my book. I was very close to the older guy on my right, but I didn't care because I was sitting! I admit that I was thinking mean things about the girl for sitting awkwardly on the bench.

The bus hadn't started moving yet when the rude girl stood up. She gave her seat to a little old lady who had gotten on the bus at the last minute. I kind of felt bad for thinking mean things about Takes-Up-Two-Seats Girl, but then I decided that it was still rude of her to not make room for me, even if she did give up her seat for the older woman.

H and I had an argument about a guy we both know. Neither of us can stand the guy, but H said that even if the guy found the solution for peace in the Middle East, I would still hate the guy. And that is true. First, this guy does not ever do things for anyone else, so he would only create peace in the Middle East if he was going to make a lot of money off of it. Second, you can be a horrible person and still do the occasional good thing.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this. I have talked about this issue before, but I am obviously still working on it. I am definitely too judgmental about people. In my book, you are either good or bad. There is not a lot of room for in-between.

Here are some things you can do to get on my bad list (or things you can avoid to stay on my good list):

1. Intentionally hurt other people
2. Intentionally hurt animals
3. Be a bigot
4. Lie to make me look bad in front of other people
5. Be good friends with someone who you know does any of 1 through 4
6. Tell me how many calories are in something I'm eating
7. Act like all people who watch television are stupid
8. Enjoy "Two and a Half Men"
9. Think Christian Bale is not hot
10. Not laugh at my hilarious jokes
11. Be negative all the freaking time until I have to have a "friendship breakup"
12. Bring white chocolate peanut butter cups to work and trick me into eating one (and by "trick me into eating one" I mean "not put up a big sign that says THESE ARE GROSS! DON'T EAT THEM!")
13. Put on makeup while driving

Obviously, some of these items are only minor infractions (#8), while some are very serious and mean we can never be friends (#9). What would be on your list?

It's November, And I'll Cry If I Want To

So lots of people are signing up for this Post Every Day in November Event. I considered it, but I can already think of several days during which I will not have access to either a computer or the internet. Shocking, I know. (H and I always say, "Interesting if true.") This weekend I am accompanying H to a work conference, and for Thanksgiving, we are traveling to my mom's house. I am a little nervous about the conference. H is going to know a ton of people, and I shall know about five. And, knowing me, I will probably only remember two of their names when I see them. Also, lots of drinking will be involved, which brings the likelihood of me saying potentially bizarre things up quite a bit. Good times will be had by all, I am sure. Thanksgiving, on the other hand, I am not worried about. I am looking forward to several types of potatoes, turkey, and most of all, stuffing. And pie. My mom makes everything from scratch, and it is amazing. The only problem spot will be keeping H entertained, so we will hopefully be able to meet up with some of our (read: my) friends who live in town or who will be visiting their parents. H can only take so much time cooped up in the house with my mom and her significant other (I forget what we decided to call him), which I completely understand, considering that is exactly how I feel when I am trapped at the H Family Farm.

So you guys really care about my travel plans for November, right? I hope so.

Anyway, I am going to try to write a post every day that I have access to a computer and the internet, so it will be like my own little version of the Write Every Day Thing. I shall call it "Write Every Day That You Can... Even If You End Up Writing Posts About Whether H Likes Staying At Your Mother's House Or Not."