I am feeling grumpy and anti-social. I've been feeling like this for about a week, which you probably wouldn't guess from my activities in the last seven days: friends over for the 4th, lunch with friends on my birthday, out-of-town guests visiting, lunch with coworkers Friday, BBQ with friends Friday, hanging out with other friends Saturday, dinner Sunday with 3 other couples, and dinner last night with 2 other couples. Thank you, grumpiness. Excellent timing. It's not that I didn't have fun spending time with all these people. I did. And I am glad we did all the above-listed events. I can't explain it except to say that I am grumpy and tired, but I did enjoy hanging out with my friends, and if they hadn't invited me to spend time with them, I would be even more grumpy and anti-social right now. I am also trying to plan a BBQ at our house in the near future, but I can't figure out when to have it. I have a crippling fear that no one will come, so I keep changing the date for it. Yay, I am a neurotic, grumpy freak! Whee!

Ummm... yeah.

Speaking of freaks, one of the blankets in our living room is possessed. H and I were playing Guitar Hero last night, and the blanket on the couch started moving. By itself. The blanket was shifting so that it looked like an animal the size of a basketball was under the blanket taking deep breaths. I pictured a basketball-sized frog. Because I am a logical thinker.

H started freaking out. "Get me a knife!" he yelled.

"No!" I responded. I did not want him killing some scary animal in our living room.

But H found a knife and ended up stabbing the blanket several times before realizing that no small animal had snuck into our house and onto the couch where we had been sitting 15 minutes earlier. (Thank goodness.) I am just glad H was the irrational one for once.

What What!

I was goofing around on blogs tonight and happened across Jen's blog, which had a link to Gizoogle. Gizoogle translates any website into "jive." So I translated my blog, and here is my last post, according to Gizoogle.

Happy Independence Day ta all of you (also affectionately referred ta in many nations as tha Day Before -R-'s Birthday) thats off tha hook yo!

I hizzle already begun tha birthday celebrizzles. Today mah assistant bought bagels fo` tha Breakfast Birthday Celebrizzles. Then one of mah boss's tizzle me out ta lunch fo` tha Lunch Birthday Celebrizzles. And tizzy afta wizzle I wizzay ta tha mizzy fo` tha Ann Taylor Loft Birthday Celebrizzle where I bought two skirts fo` $27.50. The sale is buy one sale item, git shot calla sale item fo` half price, so one of tha skirts ended up cost'n $7.50! Then I came home, n mah baby daddy had sizzent flowa fo` tha official Floral Birthday Celebrizzles . Wussup to all my niggaz in the house. I am not sure yet whizzat we is going ta do tomorrow besides attempt ta W-to-tha-izzatch two fireworks displays at once (the Fireworks Birthday Celebrizzles. Thiznen it is mah actual birthday, n Double G is com'n ta ghetto fo` tha Bizzy Friend Birthday Celebrizzles. Finally, on Saturday, H n I is going out fo` tha Official Birthday Dinna in tha hood. Consider'n T-H-to-tha-izzat mah 25th birthday was spizzent straight trippin' an official practice bar exam, I believe tizzle I deserve all tha birthday fanfare, even though mah 25th birthday was 3 years ago. P-L-to-tha-izzus, I am special. [Insert rap fizzy here.]

All tha birthday celebrizzles mizzy one perpetratin': mah mom's birthday is on Monday! Hiznelp . Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T! I asked mah sista fo` gizzift ideas, but mah sista said, "My specialty is Christmas, not birthdays." Are there any birthday specialists out there? I need sum-m sum-m T-H-to-tha-izzat is NOT a knick-knack. My mom's hobbies is golf n ballin'. She has expensive (or straight trippin' she loves a good deal) taste. She is not good wit technology yeah yeah baby. She enjoys long walks on tha beach n messin' champagne in tha moonlight . Keep'n it gangsta dogg. Oh wait fo' rizeal. I think I gots off topic there.

Celebration! We're Gonna Celebrate and Have a Good Time! Come On!

Happy Independence Day to all of you (also affectionately referred to in many nations as the Day Before -R-'s Birthday)!

I have already begun the birthday celebrations. Today my assistant bought bagels for the Breakfast Birthday Celebration. Then one of my boss's took me out to lunch for the Lunch Birthday Celebration. And then after work I went to the mall for the Ann Taylor Loft Birthday Celebration, where I bought two skirts for $27.50. The sale is buy one sale item, get another sale item for half price, so one of the skirts ended up costing $7.50! Then I came home, and my dad had sent flowers for the official Floral Birthday Celebration. I am not sure yet what we are going to do tomorrow besides attempt to watch two fireworks displays at once (the Fireworks Birthday Celebration). Then it is my actual birthday, and Double G is coming to town for the Best Friend Birthday Celebration. Finally, on Saturday, H and I are going out for the Official Birthday Dinner. Considering that my 25th birthday was spent taking an official practice bar exam, I believe that I deserve all the birthday fanfare, even though my 25th birthday was 3 years ago. Plus, I am special. [Insert rap face here.]

All the birthday celebrations mean one thing: my mom's birthday is on Monday! Help! I asked my sister for gift ideas, but my sister said, "My specialty is Christmas, not birthdays." Are there any birthday specialists out there? I need something that is NOT a knick-knack. My mom's hobbies are golf and reading. She has expensive (or expensive-looking, she loves a good deal) taste. She is not good with technology. She enjoys long walks on the beach and drinking champagne in the moonlight. Oh wait. I think I got off topic there.

Oh, Sexy Girlfriend

Sognatrice awarded me a Rockin' Girl Blogger Award today.


There is supposed to be a picture of the little award above, but I don't know how to make it show up, so you will just have to trust me. Or you can click over to Sognatrice's blog if you don't believe that she really gave me this oddly named award.

I don't know how I feel about being a Rockin' Girl Blogger. It makes me think of the foreign exchange student on Sixteen Candles (Long Duck Dong) yelling, "Oh, sexy girlfriend!"

I am feeling really "Rockin'" (those are Quotes of Irony) after doing my entire dance workout DVD tonight. There are parts of the workout where Head Workout Lady tells me to do my own arm movements to really make the dance my own. My arm movements consist of me holding up my index fingers and wiggling them around like I am a really bad 1920s male dancer. (I feel like 1920s female dancers did jazz hands while their partners just pointed and moved their hands up and down.) I am the least sexy dancer ever, and that is ok with me. I do have a rap face that I make when I am trying to dance seriously, but it is hard to replicate on command. It just comes naturally when I am in the groove. Picture the nerdiest person you know trying to look hip-hop. That is probably a close approximation of the rap face.

What Did You Do This Weekend?

I started off the weekend with a shopping spree at Target. Woooo. I got some workout clothes, a skirt, and 5 shirts.

Then I came home, and H's back went out, so good times were had by all as H stumbled around the house cursing.

We were supposed to go to H's hometown and attend his cousin's wedding on Saturday, but although H was feeling better, there was no way he could have sat in a car for a stretch of more than 30 minutes, so we stayed home. I went for an afternoon bike ride. Normally I go biking at around 7:30 pm. Did you know that if you go biking at 1:30, it is much hotter than it is at 7:30? Also, the sun is brighter and will burn your shoulders to a crisp if you wear your new sleeveless workout shirt from Target? These things are true. My hands, arms, and shoulders are very red. Except for a large, strangely-shaped blotch on my left wrist where I was wearing H's giant sports watch.

Today we went to church, bought groceries at Target, and went to the local pool. I didn't want to subject my arms and shoulders to any more sun, so I wore a cardigan. It was sexy. I think wearing cardigans to the pool is going to be the new It Thing.

When we went to Target today, I was wearing a new t-shirt from Target, a new skirt from Target, and gold sandals from Target. For some reason, I am self-conscious when I wear an all Target ensemble to Target (or an all The Gap ensemble to The Gap, for example). Like someone will notice and think, Try shopping somewhere else for once, you freak!

Tiki Time

The hill at the beginning and end of my near-daily bike journey is no longer referred to (in my mind) as The Hill of Death. Now it is The Hill of Slight Pain. Soon it will be The Hill of Indifference. Maybe someday it will seem like The Slight Upward Slope of Happiness. But I doubt it.

I rented a workout video and tried it for the first time tonight. I only did one of the segments, so I will reserve judgment until I try the whole thing. It is a "dance" workout video, though it is really more aerobicizing or something than dancing. Anyway, there was one move that I just could not get down despite repeated attempts. You are supposed to kick with one foot and step back with the other foot, but you aren't supposed to fall over. I don't really get how it works. H was in the other room, and I asked if he was embarrassed that I couldn't do the kick move. He said, "No, I already knew this about you." I am not sure what he meant by "this." I would like to think that H meant, "I already knew that you were too cool to follow a workout video exactly. You have to express yourself by doing your own moves." However, I fear that really he meant, "You are totally uncoordinated." Which would be an accurate thought on this part.

I needed to work out today because last night I went to a tiki bar with (the lovely)Noelle, 3 of Noelle's (very lovely) friends, and Stefanie. While they drank their classy tiki drinks and tried a few fried cheese curds each, I ate approximately 8 giant onion rings and 52 tater tots while drinking wine out of a box. Good times!

Some Might Call it an Overreaction

Dear Blackberry,

Thank you for beeping louder than a smoke detector at 12:07this morning. H was on a weekend trip with some friends, and I was home alone getting ready for bed. When you beeped freakishly loudly, despite the fact that I have set everything on you to mute, I could not figure out what in the kitchen would make such a noise. None of my kitchen appliances beep like that. So the only logical explanation I could come up with was that there was a killer in the kitchen who made that noise in an attempt to lure me into the kitchen. If I went into the kitchen to see what was beeping, I would be playing into the killer's hands. I weighed my options: running out of the house, calling 911, or running out of the house while calling 911. Then I realized the beep was probably just your low battery warning. But I would feel pretty stupid if I went to plug you in and it turned out there was a killer in my kitchen and I hadn't dialed 911 on my cell phone. So armed with my pre-dialed cell phone (so that if I was attacked I would just have to hit the send button), I went into the kitchen and plugged you in.

So thanks a lot, Blackberry, that was a really enjoyable experience. I'm glad we could share some middle of the night bonding.

Love,
-R-

Picture Crazy

My highlights:


There were more pictures here, including some before shots and then some smiling after shots, but I have now removed them. I tell you this so that a person reading this at a later date does not think all the commenters are crazy when referencing my smiling face. You're welcome.

I'm Tired of Coming Up With Titles

Warning: I have an appointment to get my hair highlighted on Saturday morning. I have been considering this option for about a year and just decided last week that I was going to go for it. So highlights, here I come. The reason I am warning you is that there may be lots of sad posts this weekend if it goes poorly, but I have my regular stylist and not the crazy girl who butchered my hair that one time, so I'm not worried.

Beyond the hair dying experiment, I have no idea what I am going to do this weekend. I want to ride my bike and, unfortunately, I will have to do some work, but that's about it for plans. Man, I'm old. I did got a party last weekend though, so it's not like I never go out. The party last weekend was a housewarming party for one of H's coworkers. When H and I arrived, the host was holding the two-month-old baby of one of her friends. H immediately asked if he could hold the baby and tried to take it from her. I thought that perhaps he should introduce himself to the baby's parents and ask if they minded, but H had no time for that. He had to hold the baby RIGHT NOW. The baby's mom was right there and said it was ok, so H took the baby from his friend and held him, talked to him, and snuggled with him. (I originally referred to the baby as "it" in the previous sentence. You can tell who the baby-lover in our family is.) The baby had been crying when H's friend was holding him, but H calmed him down and kept him calm the whole time H held him. So there is really no point to that story except that H loves babies. And is good with them.

Anyway, this weekend will be both party- and baby-free as far as I know. And hopefully hair-crisis-free as well.

Do you talk to your hair stylist/barber/whatever when you are getting your hair cut/styled/dyed/prepared? If so, what do you talk about? I am so bad about hair styling conversations.

Ta da! It is my bike!

Apparently, H thinks, "Please take a picture of me and my bike," means, "Please don't let too much of my bike be in the picture because I really want to get a good look at the neighbors' houses." I am so mean to H, when really, it was very nice of him to take a picture of me for my blog. Thanks, H!

And now for a segway.

Get it? I pretended like I was going to segue into a new topic, but really I am posting the next picture in the series: Cops From Other Cities Who Ride Segways. This one is from Philadelphia. I love it. And I find myself hi-larious.

Also, I should really not tease H about his picture-taking skills when I post pictures sideways on my blog.

There is really no explanation needed for the following picture, is there?

My mom gave these little stuffed fowl to H and me for Easter, and we occasionally leave them in unusual places for the other one to find. That's totally normal for near-30-year-olds, right? Right.

Maybe Later I Can Upgrade to the Sparkly Seat

I got my birthday present early this year. I think I received the same gift for my 5th birthday. Well, the one I got for my 5th birthday was yellow and had a banana seat covered in silver sparkles, while this one is mostly white with some seafoam green details and a regular seat. Yes, I got a bike!

I know I said I wanted an iPod shuffle, but H and I have been wanting to get bikes for two years now, so we decided this was the time.

I went for my first ride after work today. And I didn't fall off even once! Wooo! And, even better, I didn't run into anything! Two older ladies and a 12 year old boy did pass me, but that's ok! Also, I thought I was going to die when I was riding my bike into the wind, but I survived! And then I turned and realized that I hadn't really been riding into the wind; NOW I was riding into the wind! And I survived that too! And then I thought I might have to give up and walk my bike when I was going up a big hill, but I didn't! I made it!

Seriously, How is This a Real Song?

[Update: According to my sources, the following appears to be a real song by Sly & the Family Stone.]

I am at Starbucks, waiting for H to finish his jiu jitsu class and getting some work done. A song is playing in the background. I would describe the music as 70s jazz. Some of the lyrics are:

We can do it on the floor
We can do it on the stairs
We can do it on the couch
We can do it in the air

If we do it every day
We can do it every way

The next line was:

We can do it on the grass

If the rhyming line was "We can do it in the ass," I was either going to leave or buy the c.d. I'm not sure which. Luckily/unfortunately, I did not have to make this decision.

From The Simpsons:

Mr. Burns: Smithers, are they boo-ing me?
Smithers: Uh...no. They're saying boo-URNS, boo-URNS
Mr. Burns: (To the crowd) Excuse me, are you saying BOO or BOO-URNS?
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Hans Moleman: (to himself) I was saying "boo-urns."

I bought this shirt for H the other day. (It is a t-shirt with a speech bubble on it, and in the speech bubble it says "Boo-urns.") I decided to wait until the shirt arrived before telling H about it. But last night I thought I would give him a hint that he was going to get a present. I told him that I would have a surprise for him in a few weeks. He freaked out. He started guessing all kinds of wild things. He was getting really worked up about it. I tried to tell him that it wasn't a big thing so that he wouldn't be disappointed when it turned out to be just a t-shirt, but he kept guessing bigger and bigger surprises. And he acted like it was horrible torture to not know what the surprise was going to be. I told H that I couldn't tell him what the surprise was or it wouldn't be a surprise. His response was, "It will be a surprise when you tell me what it is!" Which is true, I suppose. So I showed him the Boo-urns shirt because there is no way I could deal with 3 or more weeks of him freaking out about the surprise. H loved the shirt, and I think it made his bad day a little bit better.

Also, H pointed out to me yesterday, "You don't cry as much as most chicks." In case you were worried after my last post. H also told me that I am "not as dumb as most chicks." Which I pointed out was not exactly a compliment. But I love him anyway because he is funny when he is trying to be a chauvinist.

There's No Crying in... Well, You Know

I read this post about crying in public today. For those of you who do not feel like clicking on the previous link, I will summarize. It is an article discussing the possible and appropriate responses when you see someone crying in public. The majority of commenters seem to think that offering a tissue or a sympathetic look is the appropriate response. I am fine with that. It makes sense that a person would want to be sympathetic but not intrusive.

But.

If you see me crying in public, do not acknowledge it! It will only make me cry more! Even if I have stopped crying, acknowledging the fact that I cried will (with 98% certainty) make me start crying again! Please treat me like I am not crying. Ignore the tears and sniffles. You can offer me a tissue if you absolutely need to and I don't have any of my own, but then you should pretend I am not crying, perhaps by asking me what my favorite baseball teams are (the Twins, the Royals, and the Braves) or if I have seen Walk the Line (why yes, I have, and I enjoyed it very much).

Streets of Philadelphia (Are Uneven and Threatened to Trip Me Multiple Times)

Philly was good. There is a tourist bus called the PHLASH, which I pronounced "P-H-Lash" in my head. Yes, I am a smarty.

I met Guinness Girl for dinner one night and Christine for dinner another night. First Wruce, then GG, then Christine- it overwhelmed with all that superstardom! GG and Christine were both tremendously nice.

H's airline decided that his suitcase would prefer to go on a different flight than H, which was annoying, but the suitcase was found and delivered to our hotel in the middle of H's first night in Philly, so it worked out ok.

H and I saw the Liberty Bell, the Museum of Art, the Rocky statue, the Franklin Institute, South Street, an Italian-American festival, and some kind of event that involved Mardi Gras beads but no flashing (that we saw).

But it is good to be home.

With A Vengeance

[Now edited to prevent googling.]

I am in Philadelphia. AND I JUST ATE DINNER WITH WRUCE BILLIS. Oh yes. The Wruce Billis of Die Hard who used to be married to Memi Doore. I also saw the person that I am guessing is his girlfriend, but since Wruce and I are such good friends now, I will be discrete and not tell you about her. Except to say that I didn't recognize her.

Anyway, I feel like my blog's purpose has been fulfilled now. I get to write about a movie star sighting. Because by "I just ate dinner with Wruce Billis," I mean, "We are staying at the same hotel, and I had dinner at the bar of the connected restaurant while he sat at the same bar a few feet away from me and had drinks with his friends, while I pretended like I couldn't care less about the whole thing and continued to read my book by Bill Bryson, but secretly I was pissed that I did not bring my camera to dinner so that I could figure out a way to snap a picture without him noticing."

Here is the part of the blog where I would post a picture of Wruce and me if I hadn't been too cool to take one, and if I had brought my camera to dinner, and if I had brought connector cables or something so that I could upload pictures from my hotel room. I wish I were ruder. Instead, just picture a 5'10" guy in a tight shirt, seriously skinny jeans, cowboy boots, with a shiny bald head, standing next to a 5'2" nerd.

You guys, I do not even like Wruce. Why am I so excited?

Family Stories

My post about Maine has made me think of my grandfather a lot recently. He grew up in New Hampshire, the youngest of nine kids. Only one of the nine kids was a girl, and she was the oldest. I think the one girl outlived all her brothers, probably in part because she was the only one who didn't smoke a pack or two a day. Anyway, I got to meet Auntie several times when I was growing up. She did not have much short term memory by the time I met her, but she would tell fantastic stories about her childhood and my grandfather.

[Sidebar: How do you pronounce "aunt"? My mom called my grandfather's sister Auntie, rhymes with Monty, and all her other aunts were Aunt (rhymes with want) Firstname. However, my sister and I grew up pronouncing "aunt" as "ant". H says aunt so that it rhymes with want as well. So I pronounce it "ant" when I am referring to my own aunts, but "aunt" (rhymes with want) when I am referring to H's aunts or my mom's aunts or when I am talking to my nieces and nephews about H's sisters. It is all very confusing to me.]

My favorite Mom'sMaidenName family story is about World War II. I don't know how this story could be totally true, but my mom acts like it is, and I like the story, so I am going to believe it. All of my grandfather's brothers joined the Navy when WWII broke out. But my grandfather was only 14. So he lied about his age and got sent to the South Pacific. As his ship was nearing Japan, another U.S. ship passed on its way back to the U.S. My grandfather was on deck and saw his brother on the other ship's deck. His brother also saw him and started yelling at my grandfather because he was too young to be there. My grandfather just smiled and waved.

Do you have any family legends? And how the heck do you say "aunt"?

Knocked Up

The movie. Go see it. Awesome. Even the 70-year-old woman sitting next to me loved it. A lot. She was laughing really hard throughout the movie.

If the film critics are H, the old lady next to me, and me, this movie gets 6 thumbs up.

You're welcome.

She's a Maine-iac, Maine-iac (On the Floor)

Breaking news: You guys, tomorrow (Friday) it is going to be June. June! How did this happen? I am excited about summer, but I have no idea what happened to the first five months of the year!

It is going to be a busy summer. I am going to Philadelphia, there are lots of office parties, my best friend (Double G) is coming to visit, H's brother is getting married, and, hopefully, we will be going to Maine for our anniversary.

I am so excited about Maine. My grandfather built a beach house in Maine. By himself. I should note that the term "beach house" is used loosely, as the house is not on the beach, but it is only about a 5 minute walk to a rocky bay, and it is about a 20 minute walk to the sandy beach. My grandfather died when I was in third grade and left the house to my mom, her sister, and her brother. My mom was a stay-at-home mom, so we could go drive up to Maine and spend a few weeks in a row, and my dad would come up for weekends. We would spend a lot of time there every summer. There was no tv (and no air conditioning), so we would take long walks, swim in the ocean until our lips turned blue, eat salt water taffy and lobster (not at the same time), pick blackberries, and swing on the tire swing. Our neighbor was a 90 year old man named Harry who mowed his own (huge lawn) and was the quintessential Maine-iac. He hated "newcomers" but loved us because he had known my grandfather.

The beach house where my grandfather had stayed as a little kid was only a 5 minute walk from our beach house. It was one room. For 9 kids (8 boys and 1 girl) and 2 parents. No running water. I can't even imagine. At the time I saw the old beach house, it was basically a shack that was falling apart. My grandfather and his brothers obviously had good memories of staying there because most of them ended up buying beach houses in the same town, and we would go see my mom's uncles when we stayed in Maine.

My mom's uncles were characters. They all had thick New Hampshire accents, and so did my mom when she talked with them. They all spoke like they were living on boats and called the bathroom "the head" and gave us directions like, "Turn starboard onto Oak Street."

We had to sell my grandfather's house because we moved to the Midwest, and it just didn't make sense to own a house in Maine. I haven't been back to the town where my grandfather had a cabin in probably 14 years, and I am kind of scared to go back. I haven't even been to Maine for 10 years. To me, Maine is my grandpa, my mom's side of the family, my family having fun together. I am scared that it won't live up to the pictures in my mind. I want to keep my memories the way they are. But I also want to see it and experience it again. It will be so different and weird to stay in a hotel though. I don't know. I am anxious and excited.

*****

To answer Jes's question in the comments of my last post, I think the best part of our trip to Chicago was the architectural boat tour, which you can buy tickets for online here. My friend who used to live in Chicago said he always took out of town guests on this tour, and my friend who currently lives in Chicago said it is the best tour in Chicago. It's only 90 minutes, and you get to see a lot of downtown. It is interesting, and my Dallas friends, H, and I all enjoyed it.

The second best part was drinking a gin and tonic. I had never had one before because I thought it sounded gross. But it wasn't. It was fabulous! It is my new go-to drink. In fact, I wish I had one right now.

Did I Mention Dunkin' Donuts? Mmmmmm.

A summary of our trip: we ate and drank and had fun.

Our trip in list form:
friends from Dallas
H's sister (who is my age) from Austin
Italian food at a tiny local hole-in-the-wall place
beer
Sears Tower
architectural boat tour
ponchos
Gino's East deep dish pizza
Museum of Science and Industry (not really worth seeing unless you have kids)
sushi with my friend from high school
beer
White Sox game
strawberry margaritas and kosher hot dogs
Lake Michigan
the bean statue thingy
Grant Park and Memorial Park
Dunkin' Donuts
Harry Caray's bar
gin and tonic
Weber Grill and sangria

Our trip in (more) pictures:




This is a police officer on a SEGWAY. How do you take someone seriously when they are cruisin' around on a Segway? The answer is: you don't. But it is pretty fabulous, you must admit.

PS The fact that he looked like Carl from Family Matters did not help his street cred at all.

A Quick Preview

[H and I wearing ponchos]



We had a fantastic weekend in Chicago. More to follow, including actual words and stuff.

Happy Memorial Day weekend!



What does a chipmunk have to do with Memorial Day? Good question. The answer is nothing. But it is cute.

If You're Blue and You Don't Know Where to Go To

For Memorial Day, H and I are flying to Chicago to spend time with one of my best friends and her husband, who will both be flying in from Dallas. I haven't ever had the chance to get to know my friend's husband very well because they live so far away. I am hoping this weekend will be a good chance for us to all hang out without a lot of stress or other distractions. The good thing is that even if H or I don't fall in friend-love with the husband, it is only one weekend, and I can plan some girly trips with my friend from then on. We are also going to spend at least Saturday night hanging out with my friend from high school who lives in Chicago, so I am really looking forward to this trip. I can't believe we leave on Friday though. It still feels a long way away.

Normally I don't like to talk about upcoming trips, but I know that Stefanie will be out of town for Memorial Day, so she will be unable to rob my house. This time.

After we get back from Chicago, I will be home for a week, and then I leave again, this time for a work-related trip. I will be in Philadelphia for a few days doing my exciting work stuff, and then H is going to fly up, and we'll spend the weekend cruisin' the city. I'm not sure what that means. Hopefully we will be able to meet up with Guinness Girl and Christine at some point.

In an unrelated conclusion, what is our opinion on bermuda shorts? I thought I was against them, but I tried on a pair today, and I think they would have been cute if (1) they fit better at the waist, and (2) they were either an inch shorter or an inch longer because they hit right in the middle of my knee. So I think I may not be against the bermuda short in general. What do you think? Also, do you wear leggings? If so, then I can probably disregard your opinion on bermuda shorts because I just cannot do leggings.

The Mystery Griddle

H called me today and asked if I had already sent a wedding present to his cousin.

I told him that I had not, as her wedding is not for another month.

H asked if I was sure.

I told him that I was sure I had not purchased a present yet.

H asked if I was really sure.

I told him that I was sure and that I would remember if I had already bought a present.

H asked, "You didn't send her the griddle we got for our wedding, did you?" He sounded disgusted that I had sent his cousin a griddle that I had found around our house.

And then I realized what had happened. "We got a thank you note from her, didn't we?" I asked.

We had. I am guessing that the cousin had a shower in H's hometown, and H's mom got a gift and signed my name (along with H's sisters' names) on the card.

So apparently I gave H's cousin a griddle as a shower gift for a shower that I never even knew had happened. I hope she liked it.

*****

FYI, this doesn't bother me at all. I just feel bad that the poor cousin spent the time writing me a thank you note when I didn't even know I had given her a gift.

Why Can't We Be Friends?

Only six weeks until my birthday! I will be the big 2-8. What what. [That was in my gangsta voice.] For my birthday, I have asked two things of H. First, I would like my present to be an iPod Shuffle. Second, H will go with me to see the movie coming out that week starring my boyfriend (John Krasinski) and Mandy Moore. I told H the Shuffle and the movie are the only things I want, but he said that it is not enough and he must get me more presents. So I told him he could download some songs onto the iPod. Still not enough for him. It is my birthday [in six weeks] and that's all I want, so that is all I should get! Don't I get to choose how much I get for my birthday? Apparently, if history is any indication, the answer is no. H and I always set budgets for birthday and Christmas presents. Then H always goes at least $100 over the limit. Then I get mad. Then H gets mad at me for getting mad at him when he was trying to do something nice. Then I get mad at H for getting mad at me for getting mad at him and for thinking that busting our budget is nice. It is a bad cycle. Maybe this is the birthday we can break the cycle! I have high hopes.

Speaking of my boyfriend, I only saw the last ten minutes of the season finale of The Office! I didn't worry about it at the time because we taped it, but it turned out that our connection was defective and we taped an hour worth of black screen! Noooo!

Life Lessons

When I didn't write anything yesterday, were you thinking I had traveled to Texas to go on a church trip with my new friends? Well, much to dismay, they have not yet invited me on their trip, so I guess I will stay in Minnesota for now.

A post Jonniker wrote the other day, plus some of your comments on my last post, made me think of some weird phone calls I have received.

When I moved to Minnesota, I got a new cell phone and a new phone number. One Sunday, I got a phone call from a woman I didn't know. "YOU STOLE MY HUSBAND'S PHONE!" she yelled. I asked her what phone number she was trying to reach. She said her husband's phone number was XXX-XXX-XXXXZ. I tried to explain to her that phone numbers only have 10 digits and that the number she had just said was not a real phone number. She screamed, "I KNOW MY HUSBAND'S PHONE NUMBER! IT IS XXX-XXX-XXXXZ, AND YOU HAVE HIS PHONE!" Then she threatened to beat me up. I don't know about you, but I do not care for psycho idiots yelling at me. H took the phone from me and started screaming back at this lady. H hung up. The lady called back at least 10 times. So I called the police. An officer came to our house to take the report. Meanwhile, psycho idiot lady who doesn't know how phone numbers work kept calling me. The officer called psycho idiot lady from his Official Police Phone and tried to explain to her how phone numbers work. Eventually, he just said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this woman does not have your phone, and if you keep calling her, I will arrest you for harassing her." And she never called again. Yay!

The lessons of the day are (1) people are stupid, and (2) I am not afraid to call the police. But you already knew that.

My New Best Friend

For the past few days, I have been getting e-mail from some lovely ladies in Texas who seem to be planning some kind of church trip. The e-mail address they have been writing to is not one I generally use: it is -R-.maidenname@toughluck.com. So at first, I just thought the messages were some kind of weird spam. But there are several ladies copied on each message, and they have been writing back and forth, making plans about where to meet and how to organize this trip, which I believe starts this week. I was worried that poor -R- MaidenName was going to be left out! She is probably sitting at home, checking her e-mail every 5 minutes, wondering why no one is sending her the details of the church trip. How will she know where to meet everyone? I am probably a little too invested in the life of -R- MaidenName. Maybe she is at home thanking her lucky stars that the weird ladies at her church have forgotten all about the trip and are leaving her alone. But I am worried about my new friend -R- MaidenName, so today I wrote back to the lovely Texas ladies. Oh yes, I did.

"FYI, you have the wrong e-mail address for -R-. I am a different -R- who has no idea what you are all talking about. Good luck on your trip."

I kind of hope that they will keep writing me so that I can find out whether they ever got the right address for -R- MaidenName.

Update: I received two messages from my lovely ladies this morning. They both apologized for having the wrong e-mail address. Should I write back and say, "Not a problem. I hope you have a great trip and are able to get in touch with -R- MaidenName. If you can't get in touch with -R- MaidenName and want me to come with you instead, just let me know"?

Doctor Who

I just deleted the paragraph I wrote about I feel like my head may explode because really, that is a pathetic excuse for a blog entry. Sinus pressure is just not that interesting. But wait...


I have an idea!

I will post random pictures of my trip to The Little Apple.


On the way to Apple Town, we had to wait for not one...

But TWO trains. At the same time. This was not a good omen.


But we made it there safe and sound, and here is a random picture of a building on my sister's campus.


My sister graduated and walked safely across the stage without falling down or tripping. H had to squeeze through the narrow aisle in the middle of the (two hour!) graduation ceremony so that he could use the restroom. When he came back, he sat on the aisle so that he didn't have to squish past 50 people again. And then all the graduates had to walk right past H as they exited. I said to my mom, "Maybe H will give [my sister] a high five!" And then he did! Here is a re-enactment.

Note: I do not know who that creepy-looking guy in the background is.

My sister had lots of velvet stripes and a fancy magna cum laude cord on her robe.


She is a doctor now. My sister is now Dr. -R's Little Sister-. Doctor! My little sister! Doctor! Aaaaa!

Rabbit Fur [and] Coat

As I was getting ready for work Tuesday morning, H shouted, "Come downstairs! And bring the camera!" So I obliged. I was not sure what to expect. One time some middle-aged people parked their car by our house and then proceeded to totally make out in the car. I hoped it was not something along those lines.

I got to the kitchen, where H was staring out the window, and saw this.




We always used to have bunnies in our yard growing up, and they would drive my mom crazy by eating all her flowers, no matter what she tried to deter them. We don't really have any flowers, so I didn't mind seeing the bunny, though I was not quite as excited as H.


Since I have turned this into a fashion blog, what do you think of this jacket?

The only reason I own the jacket is that one day last summer when I was wearing a short sleeved cardigan and capris at work, I found out that I had to go to a board meeting in 30 minutes. So I speedwalked to Ann Taylor (which is very close to my office) and bought the only jacket in my size in the clearance section that kind of matched my capris. I had the salesperson cut off the tags, and I wore it back to the office, with 10 minutes to spare. I still wear the jacket from time to time because I need to get my $50 worth.

I think it is kind of an old lady jacket, but I get compliments on it whenever I wear it. What do you think? I am not fishing for compliments here. If it is ugly, please tell me.


I am behind on my blog commenting, but I will try to catch up tomorrow before I go out of town. In case you were worried.

Tuesday Night Confessions

1. I rarely, if ever, tip the people from whom I order my coffee.

2. My coworker leaves $1 all the time, so I feel like she makes up for me.

3. Except I don't feel bad for not tipping the coffee people.

4. And the guy I regularly go to always gives me 10 cents off as though I got the trivia question right, even though I never even guess the trivia question.

5. Before you ask, no, the coffee guy does not have a crush on me.

6. I know this because I have met the coffee guy's boyfriend.

7. My nemesis and I are on friendly terms now. He says hi to me all the time.

8. Don't worry, though. I have a new nemesis.

9. I am glad that Shia Le Bouef is doing well because I used to watch the Disney show he was on, which was called Even Stevens.

10. Yes, I used to watch the Disney Channel when I was in law school. And I liked it.

11. I always think that this will be the morning I get up when my alarm goes off, but then I always hit the snooze button.

12. But I am really, truly convinced that it will be different tomorrow morning.

13. I have disliked every job I have ever had.

14. I think I was meant to be a lady of leisure.

15. Unfortunately, H thinks he was meant to be a gentleman of leisure.

16. Our house is really messy.

17. I am probably responsible for half the mess, but I blame H.

18. He blames me, so it works out ok.

19. I don't always tell the whole story about things I write on my blog.

20. It is just easier than explaining the whole back story sometimes.

They Might Be Giants

My sister's graduation is this weekend, so I have my outfit all planned out.




Dress from Banana Republic and purse from Kohl's (purchased on sale this weekend for either $12 or $18, I forget). In the first picture, my shoes are from Target (purchased on sale this weekend for $16), and in the second picture, my shoes are from Steve Madden (purchased on sale in January). Dorky facial expressions not for sale.

I am going to go with the gold Target sandals because I think the brown shoes will give me blisters if I wear them for long walking excursions without pantyhose.

I think I look super short in these pictures, which is good. I need to get used to it because I am shorter than everyone in my family, so our family pictures at graduation will look something like this (photos from my sister's white coat ceremony last year):





The yellow faces are kind of freaking me out. The two tall guys are my cousin and uncle, and the short guy is my dad. The gal with the white coat is obviously my sister, and the other woman is my mom. H will be in the pictures this year (he didn't attend the white coat ceremony), and he is even taller than my uncle. Also, my other cousin may show up, and she is at least six feet tall too. My sister and I are the only cousins (1) under 5'10" and (2) with brown hair. All the other cousins are svelte, blonde, Nordic giants. I feel like Laurel would fit right in. Uff da!

Snippets of Wonderfulness

At about 2 pm today, I noticed that I had a tiny piece of lint stuck to my calf INSIDE of my pantyhose. I have no idea what it was or how it got there. I chose to assume that the lint had not been there all day or that no one had noticed it. And then at 5:30, I noticed that I had a huge stripe of deodorant on the bottom of my shirt. I was wearing a cardigan type sweater over the shirt, so maybe no one noticed, or maybe everyone just pretended not to notice because they felt bad for me since I was obviously having some wardrobe issues today. At least I didn't meet with any clients today. Gah.

*****

I have developed a theory that a "person" I know may actually be a robot. If my life were the horrible 1980s tv show Small Wonder, this person would be Vicki, the robot that a family was trying to pass off as a person for some weird 1980s reason. In this scenario, I would be Harriet (scroll down), the girl with scary pigtails who was always trying to prove that Vicki was a robot. My whole robot theory was based on the facts that "Vicki" did not understand jokes and has had the exact same hair length for about 6 months. This week, "Vicki" told a joke AND got a haircut. I guess I was wrong. Or maybe that is what the robot wants me to think! I am confused.

*****

H has been getting up early in the morning and watching Saved By the Bell. Then he usually comes upstairs as I am getting ready and summarizes the episode(s) he saw that morning. What is most sad about this story is that I actually remember most of the episodes. H is so cute though. The other morning he came upstairs and said, "Kelly NEVER should have got a job at The Max!"

Happy Birthday

I was right: I own five books by Binchy. They are Scarlet Feather, Tara Road, Circle of Friends, Light a Penny Candle, and Echoes. So good! Oh, and I own a collection of short stories by multiple authors, including Binchy. I also own three books by Sarah Vowell and two books by Madeleine L'Engle. My collection is not what I would call varied. But I don't care because I love my books.

Tomorrow (May 1st) is the birthday of one of my best friends, Double G. I am tempted to post embarrassing pictures of her to celebrate, but I am afraid of the retaliation that could result, so I will restrain myself. I have known Double G since we were freshmen in high school, so we have known each other for almost 14 years. I am sure if that calculation is incorrect she will let me know because she is a math genius. (Not like that is a hard calculation, but she really is brilliant at math.) Of those approximately 14 years, Double G and I only lived in the same town for the first three. After that, she went to college about an hour away, and then when I graduated from high school a year later, I moved about 12 hours away. Then Double G moved to Wisconsin, and I moved to Nebraska, and then Double G moved to California, and I moved to Minnesota. Yet Double G has always been there for me, and I hope she knows that I have always been there for her and will continue to be.

When Double G graduated from high school, I spent a lot of time during her senior year writing a book about our times together. In order to put the book together, I had to call Double G from time to time and ask her strange questions like, "When did we take that trip to Sioux Falls?" and "What was the name of the guy you had a crush on sophomore year?" (Ok, I didn't really have to ask that second question because I know the answer: D@n Rez@c.) Despite the fact that Double G is much smarter than me, she did not suspect anything based on my odd questions. But now, every time I call her to ask her about random facts, she is very suspicious. I suppose her suspicion is reasonable, but it is funny. The thing is that Double G probably knows more about me and my life than anyone else, so she is the only one will know weird things like the name of the guy in high school who tried to give himself the nickname The Italian Stallion.

I don't know why we have been able to be such good friends. It doesn't make sense to me because of the three years that we lived near each other, we were really only good friends for two of those years, and after that we have always been so freaking far apart. But for some reason, something kept us together. And I am glad to have Double G in my life.

She's the pope of chili-town.

The Pope of Chili-town

I had a fantastic weekend, and I am feeling much happier. I have not been enjoying my job at all for the past few weeks, but I think I am over that feeling for now. I think one of the things that really helped was a happy hour with a group of coworkers (postponed from Wednesday) that reminded me that I work with a lot of fun, enjoyable people.

But enough about that. What made my weekend so enjoyable was that I did nothing and didn't let myself feel guilty about it. H went to a NFL draft party with his high school friends that lasted from 11 am Saturday until 7 am Sunday. (The party was about an hour from our house, and H had been drinking, so he just stayed the night.) Since I had the house to myself, I sat on the back porch for a few hours and read my Maeve Binchy book. Then I did a tiny bit of yard work and came inside to watch a marathon of The Ultimate Coyote Ugly Search. Today, we went to Panera Bread for lunch, bought groceries at Target, did some yard work, and did just a little bit of work for my job. I am slightly sunburned and well-rested, which makes me happy.

You may have noticed in the paragraph above that I call the wooden platform attached to the back of our house "the back porch," which annoys H to no end. H calls it the deck and insists that I call it the deck as well. This from a man who calls both the noon meal and the evening meal "lunch." H also used the phrase, "He thinks he's the pope of Chili-town," at least 50 times today, which is from The Simpsons episode in which Homer tastes everyone's chili at the chili cook-off. Thus, I think I am allowed to use the term "porch" if I want.

You may have also noticed my reference to Maeve Binchy. I am mentioned before that I do not own many books. I probably own less than 20 books because I got rid of most during the course of several moves. Of the 20 books I own, I think 5 are by Maeve Binchy because they are books that I can read (and have read) multiple times. H has asked who I love more, Binchy or him. The answer is H, but it's a tough question.

I feel like I haven't been posting much, and what I have posted has pretty much been a "let's slap something up there just because I am tired of having that old lame post at the top of my page" kind of deal. And yet, here I go again! It has been a bad week, and I have kind of been hating everyone. I don't like to write when I am in such a bad mood because (1) it is boring, (2) I don't like to sound so negative, even though I am, and (3) I don't write about work. But I think this blog makes me seem like I am happy and goofy all the time, when I am really quite moody in real life. I don't know. Maybe you don't think my blog seems that chipper. H doesn't. He is still annoyed that a few months ago I wrote that I had been thinking about what would happen if he died.

Anyway, have you been wondering why my links are in the order that they are over in the sidebar? The first three (Grumpy Frump, Marmite Breath, and Stefanie Says) are listed in the order that I met them. Then come Swimming With Sharks and Red Red Whine because I am going to meet them next. Everyone else is in alphabetical order, but I will probably switch everyone around from time to time because I am just like that.

Gotta go. Will explain later.

Commute!

It is 11 p.m., and I just finished work, so it is not that I am ignoring you, it is just that I would feel bad saying to H, "Sorry I didn't talk to you all day, but I had to write something on my blog."

Is there a blog award for longest sentence because I think I would be in the running?

And I have to go in to work early tomorrow, but that is because I am leaving early-ish to go to a happy hour with some friends that I do not see often.

Also, I don't have much to say except "work work work work work."

Ok, why am I writing all this? I shall end with a request. Please recommend a book I should read on my (bus) commute or a song I should download on H's iPod to listen to on my commute. The word "commute" is starting to freak me out. The more I type "commute" the weirder "commute" looks. Aaa!

Cool Whip Makes Everything Better

We had a tiny visitor at our house today. My friend and her 8-month-old daughter came over to play. We ripped up an old magazine, crawled around the living room and kitchen, and played with the Nintendo Wii. I will let you guess which activities the 8-month-old instigated and which activity caused her to start screaming because her mom was busy swinging a Wii-mote around. Apparently I am not an adequate substitute attention-giver. H and I also discovered that our house is really not baby-proofed for a crawler, not that we thought it was. No injuries occurred though, so really, what more could you want.

H and I also went to the Mall of America today, and I bought this dress (although mine is a petite size since I am so freaking short) for my brother-in-law's wedding this summer. It is so cute, and I can wear it to work too. I am pathetically pleased by this purchase.

I have been in a bad mood for the past few weeks, but H has been pitching in by doing a lot of cleaning around the house and being all-around hilarious. There are some people I've met who just seem so serious all the time; I don't know how they survive. I need at least a little laughter every day to get by. [/end lame serious paragraph about having a sense of humor]

Do you know what else helps me get by? Freaking Samoa flavored ice cream. How did I live without it? Also, coffee with Cool Whip instead of cream and sugar. Seriously. It is terrific.

Money (That's What I Want)

One Smart Cookie did a list of the 5 "luxuries" that she would spend money on if she had lots of extra money lying around and the five things that aren't important enough for her to spend money a lot of money on, even if she could afford it. So that's not exactly how she worded it, but I am tired, and that is my explanation. Following in her footsteps, here are my lists.

The Five Things Worth My Money:

1. Expensive shoes. I would go for quality over quantity, although I do have limits. There is a blog about purses that I look at from time to time when I get really bored, and the author writes things like, "This purse is only $650, so you can take it to the beach and get sand in it, and you won't even care." Ummm... THEN YOU ARE CRAZY. So the point is, I would not spend $650 on shoes and then say, "Yay, I can run through mud puddles in these since they are only $650," but the occasional pair of designer shoes might be fun.

2. Car. I would probably get a BMW or a Lexus, which is exactly what One Smart Cookie would not spend her money on, but I think it is worth it for the extra control and comfort.

3. Fancy vacations. I would go to Australia first, I think, and then London and Italy. And Canada - I have never been to Canada!

4. Stylist. I feel like having a stylist would rule. I never know if my outfit is ok or not.

5. Swimming pool. I would love to have a swimming pool in my backyard. Not very practical in Minnesota though. Maybe I could get an indoor swimming pool. Yes! That is my new plan.


The Five Things Not Worth My Money:

1. Makeup. I am just not that into makeup. And I am just as happy with Cover Girl lip gloss as I think I would be with the same thing by Chanel.

2. Private jet. Riding in small planes frighten me.

3. Manicures. The paint always chips off in two days anyway.

4. Books. I love the library!

5. Wine. I am with One Smart Cookie on this one. I am no wine connoisseur, and 10 bottles of $20 wine sounds just as good as 1 bottle of $200 wine.

Way Back Machine

A Summary of the Last Thirteen Months, as Told By the First Line of the First Entry in My Blog For the Last Thirteen Months

Alternate Title: I Have Nothing New To Write Today

1. March 2006: When I was in college, I decided to go running with some girls from my dorm.

2. April 2006: Some pictures from the Sweet Sixteen last week: Boston College v. Villanova - At this point, both teams are out of the tournament, but I just finally got these pictures on Flickr.

3. May 2006: I was stressed out today.

4. June 2006: I have been home alone since 5:30 tonight.

5. July 2006: The wedding was really fun, our touristy travels through DC were good, my birthday was rainy but enjoyable.

6. August 2006: 1. I am happy when it rains because, "The lawn really needs a good rain."

7. September 2006: It was just a little rainy...

8. October 2006: It is about 2:30 pm.

9. November 2006: So lots of people are signing up for this Post Every Day in November Event.

10. December 2006: People at my office rarely, if ever, take sick days.

11. January 2007: The holiday season is finally over for H and me.

12. February 2007: My version of a Venn diagram.

13. March 2007: Here it is, your moment of zen.

Note to self: Work on topic sentences.

You Love When I Post Random Things

I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day today. Ugh. Also, I am trying out a new thing called not checking my blog e-mail or Google reader while at work. I did semi-ok today, but you may have noticed I gave in once this morning and read a few blogs and responded to Nat's comment on my own blog. But still. I did decently today. I will still be reading at night or before work, so do not be despondent if you do not see my usually early morning comment on your blog!

*****

I have been listening to my Ok Go cd for two weeks in a row now. Every day. I love it and cannot help it.

*****

You may have noticed that I have changed the layout of my blog tonight. Why? I just felt like it. It is still a work in progress, so don't judge me yet. Although it probably will look very boring for a while, and I may still switch to Wordpress. I haven't decided yet.

*****

I was hoping that I would just think of something clever and interesting to write about despite my pissed off mood, but that does not appear to be happening tonight. So I will steal the James Lipton questionnaire from Noelle, who coincidentally has the hardest blog name to spell ever. At least for me.

# 1. What is your favorite word?
Doodle. Also "soporific." Also "also."

# 2. What is your least favorite word?
Hackneyed.

# 3. What turns you on (creatively, spiritually or emotionally)?
Laughter.

# 4. What turns you off?
Violence.

# 5. What is your favorite curse word?
The only curse word I ever really say is fuck. And I said it a lot today. But I don't enjoy saying it. The curse-like words I actually enjoy using are "Freaking A!" and "Dagnabbit!"

# 6. What sound or noise do you love?
Children singing.

# 7. What sound or noise do you hate?
The sound of H picking skin off his fingers.

# 8. What profession, other than your own, would you like to attempt?
I think I would be an excellent HR director. Or bookstore owner. Or professional reader.

# 9. What profession would you not like to attempt?
Doctor or nurse.

# 10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
If I arrive at the Pearly Gates, I would like to hear God performing "Rapper's Delight" by The Sugar Hill Gang for me.

Planning Ahead

Since I last posted, I have gone to a Twins game, worked, eaten some barbecue and also some Samoa (correct name: Caramel Delights) Girl Scout Cookie flavored ice cream, and worked some more. I also bought a red patent faux-leather headband. And now, sadly, you are all caught up with my life.

It has also been warm enough this weekend that I got to wear my new super cute Keds. So comfortable! So cute! Unfortunately, I didn't get much time to enjoy the nice weather. Can I tell you how excited I am about summer and hot weather? Very! I want to wear my Keds everyday, and take bike rides with H, and have barbecues at our house, and make sangria, and invite people over to play Bocce and badminton. What is your favorite thing about summer?

Go, Shortie! It's Your Birthday!

Due to so many of you volunteering your heights in my last post, I am going to make a little chart of my readers, from smallest to tallest. (I prefer "small" to "short," thought I'm not sure why.) I was going to do a complicated illustration here, but then I would have to deal with my scanner, and I am not in the mood. Also, I should probably warn you that I am listing you by your doctor-appointed heights, or else a height that I just made up for you because it seemed right. So here you go.

Nat 4'11"
Liz 4'11"
Abbersnail 5'1"
-R- 5'1.5" - BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Metalia 5'2"
Jen 5'2"
Sparkling Cipher 5'2"
Sognatrice 5'2"
Kim 5'2.5"
3carnations 5'2.5"
Em 5'3"
Grumpy Frump 5'3.75"
Paisley 5'4"
L Sass 5'4"
Claire 5'5"
Anniina 5'5"
Noelle 5'5.5"
Boozie 5'7"
Lizgwiz 5'8"
Stefanie 5'10"
Lawyerish 5'10"
Galoot 6'5"
H 6'5"

My only male readers are 6'5". Perhaps I intimidate shorter men with my astounding writing. I should note that Galoot probably did not even read the last post, let alone post a comment with his height, but I remember it because he is the same height as H. Stefanie also failed to volunteer her height, but I think that she is 5'10", and I didn't want Lawyerish to be all alone up there. Yes, that is how my brain works.

The average height of my female readers appears to be (from my rudimentary calculations) approximately 5'3.5"! Yay, shorties!

*****

Are you still awake after that fascinating display of lameness? Then I will reward you with a special treat.

The picture above is H doing a pose he likes to call the Florida Tilt. He did this pose for his drivers license photo, which he had until about two years ago. You should have seen the looks he got when he was carded. Most of the looks seemed to be along the lines of, "I can't believe the drivers license people let you do that horrible and weird pose for your freaking drivers license," although the look from teenage boys was more like, "That is so awesome! I am doing that for my next picture!" H took both types of looks as compliments. He was very proud of that picture. I was mortified.

Then H had to get his picture retaken when he renewed his drivers license, and the people at the DMV were much less sympathetic to the Florida Tilt. H was pissed. I was overjoyed.

Now the Florida Tilt lives on IN OUR WEDDING PICTURES. Only a few, but OH MY GOD. OUR WEDDING PICTURES.

I'm Short

I am devastated. I went to the doctor last week. And the nurse told me that I am only 5 feet 1.5 inches tall. NOOOOOOOOOO! I am at least 5'2", and I always round up to 5'3". The reason I am devastated is that I fear the nurse who measured me is correct, and I am, in fact, barely over 5 feet tall. I am tiny! NOOOOOOOO!

Not surprisingly, I was always one of the shortest kids in my class. In third through fifth grades, my best friend was one of the tallest kids in my class. Her parents met in college, where they both played basketball. In fifth grade, my friend was at least as tall as my mom. Probably taller, because when my friend's younger sister (who was in my sister's class) used to play dress up with my sister, my friend's sister had to wear my mom's shoes, and they were too small. IN SECOND GRADE.

Another story about how tall my friend and her sister were: Our moms took us to see Pee Wee's Big Adventure, and my friend's mom asked for tickets for one adult and two kids. The kid selling tickets did not believe that my friend and her sister were under 12. My friend was 10, and her sister was 7 or 8. Their mom had to show their birth certificates to get the kids' rate. So yes, my friend was tall.

Anyway, in fifth grade, my friend wanted to play basketball on the co-ed intramural team at school, but there weren't any other girls playing that year. So she asked me to play on the team with her, and I agreed. Not only was I much shorter than everyone else, I was also slow and uncoordinated. But I was just participating to support my friend, and I didn't care too much that I sucked. I just ran up and down the court and stayed out of the way of the action. Every once in a while, the coach made my team throw the ball to me, and all the boys would get out of my way to let me attempt a shot. I don't think I ever made it. I much preferred when I could just run up and down the court and daydream about whatever dorky things fifth graders daydream about.

So I have always accepted that I am short, but I am not 5'1.5". I am 5'3", dagnabbit.

Ready, Set...

In November, I was listening to the radio in my car on the way to the bus stop, and the DJ said that you could buy tickets for a Snow Patrol/OK Go concert on the radio station's website before they went on sale to the general public. (This does not really make sense since the people who listen to this radio station are the general public, but just go with it.) I thought, "I like that OK Go song I hear on the radio, so it would be fun to go to the concert." I called H, and he told me that the concert was going to be too girly and he didn't want to go with me. So I told him that he had no choice, and I bought two tickets.

The concert was great. H and I both really loved OK Go. Snow Patrol was great, but not 100% my style. I think Snow Patrol is what I would have listened to when I was a sophomore in college, lying on my bed and feeling sorry for myself because I didn't have a boyfriend. Whereas OK Go makes me dance.

H said, "Oh, R. You love the geek rock." Yes. Yes, I do.

Shoes, Glorious Shoes

On this holiday weekend, I assume everyone would like to read about my shoes.

Today, I received my newest acquisition from Endless.


I have been coveting these perfect summer sneakers for several weeks, and finally found them for only $35 at Endless (at least $40 + shipping everywhere else). I actually ordered a size 7.5, but they were too big, so I returned the 7.5s (for free - Endless even paid for the return shipping!), ordered size 7s Wednesday, and got the size 7s this morning. As Sarah would say, HEART! Also, it looks like I have cankles in these pictures. I do have fat ankles, but I think these are just weird angles that showcase the fatness in my ankles. They are not this weird looking in person!

Here are the $15 shoes I bought to comfort myself after my travel planning disaster.

Aaaa! Blinding white leg!

When I came home today with my super cute Keds, H started complaining that I have too many shoes. I will let you be the judge of whether he is right. Here are pictures of every shoe I own.

Work shoes:


Summer shoes:


Sneakers:


I wish I had taken a picture of all of H's shoes because I am pretty sure he has more than I do.

Change is Good, Maybe

I am thinking about switching to Wordpress. Any thoughts?

I have a doctor's appointment right before lunch, so I slept in this morning and am now being lazy in front of the computer. I had planned to get up at my regular time and do some work. I am always so optimistic, but it never happens. Why don't I know myself better?

Alyndabear has sent me some questions for my own little interview. I'm so important! Except not really because I asked her to send me some questions.

1. How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa, the Easter Bunny and/or the Tooth Fairy? [Extra points if you still believe in 'em!]
I was in the third grade. I started asking my mom questions about Santa, and she said something along the lines of, "It's time to tell you that Santa isn't real." I was SO PISSED that my parents had been lying to me for years. Now, other kids in my class had been vocal about Santa being fake since about first grade, and I think I knew that Santa wasn't real, but I was still so pissed. My sister was fine with the news though.

2. If you didn't have to read about ONE particular subject in a blog EVER again, what would that subject be? And why?
I am so tired of: "Working mothers judge stay-at-home mothers for staying at home," or "Stay-at-home mothers judge working mothers for working outside the home." As soon as I read the first line of the post, I know exactly what it is going to say and that it will conclude with a statement that all mothers do the best they can, and staying at home is right for some and working is right for others. I don't mind if someone posts something about her specific experience and how it affected her or what she thinks about it. But oh my God I am so tired of cookie cutter posts on the topic. FYI, I haven't seen anyone that I link to write a post like this.

3. Do you floss?
Rarely. Oops.

4. What is something about you that just about everyone knows?
I am married.

5. What is something about you that not many people at all know?
My ideal family would be me, H, and two kids. I think the only person who knows that is H. And now all of the internet!
Also, one time I peed one little droplet while I was playing racketball with H (because of all the jumping I was doing), and he has refused to play with me since. He wouldn't even know if I hadn't told him!

Must change topic after mention of pee...
So, Wordpress anyone?

I Touch You Once. I Touch You Twice. I Won't Let Go At Any Price.

Darn you, unlined paper!


Not a single person preferred both Christina and Pretty in Pink. And I am definitely in the minority here, as my only Christina/Sixteen Candles buddies are Liz, Sass Attack, Don't Call Me Ma'am, and Sparkling Cipher. Why is Christina better? I will let Sparkling Cipher explain it to you.

"I'm shocked that so few chose Christina. Sure, she got pretty raunchy for a while, but she's always been the better artist. Even as she slutted herself up, I respected that she was just doing her own thing and not trying to present some phony image."

As for Sixteen Candles, were you not in love with Jake Ryan??? I am still in love with Jake Ryan. Guinness Girl wrote a while ago that Jake Ryan is now a carpenter or table maker in New York (I think). But maybe I am just thinking he is a table maker because I want him to make a table for us, and then we will sit on top of the table and make out over a birthday cake.

A Quick Tour of My Playlists

I am uninspired. But will that stop me from writing something and publishing it for the internet to see? No.

Perhaps you are wondering what is in my queue for Blockbuster Online movies? The first ten items are:
1. Or, My Treasure - I have no idea what this is.
2. Numbers, Season 1, Disk 2 - Shut up. I am watching these while working out.
3. Syriana - Parts of this will be too scary for me to watch.
4. Network - I think I have seen this before but would like to see it again.
5. Numbers, Season 1, Disk 3 - I have optimistic views on how much I will work out. I will probably not need this disk quite so soon.
6. Walk the Line
7. History of Violence
8. King Kong
9. Numbers, Season 1, Disk 4 - You get the picture.
10. Mystery Science Theater 3000, vol. 1 - NERDS.

I am kind of embarrassed by the above list. And yet, I will continue to share by listing some songs I have put on H's iPod Nano for my listening enjoyment which make H wish that I would just get my own freaking iPod. (I am considering the Shuffle, but since I always just use H's Nano whenever I want, I don't know if I really need it.) Ok, here's the list.
1. Eternal Flame - The Bangles
2. Sick of Myself - Matthew Sweet
3. Girlfriend - Matthew Sweet
4. Bridge Over Troubled Water - Simon & Garfunkel
5. Bathwater - No Doubt
6. Rock DJ - Robbie Williams
7. Manic Monday - The Bangles

Actually, there are several more Bangles' songs on the iPod, and H hates all of them. And yet the shortness of this list makes me want to go out and purchase some Justin Timberlake and Kelly Clarkson so that I can really get my dorky groove on during my morning bus rides.