I Need A Sippy Cup

I am on my third shirt of the day. First, I spilled a few drops of Cranapple on my shirt. I was in the process of brewing coffee when I spilled the Cranapple so I thought about waiting to change in case I spilled coffee too. But then I thought, no, I won't spill twice in one day. I changed shirts, and then I poured about a quarter of a cup of coffee down my front. Nice. I'm in my last white t-shirt, so hopefully I can make it last the rest of the day.

Sunday Post

The main excitement of the day was that it snowed for a little while. Huge flakes, the size of the palm of my hand. It was freaky. I don't think I have ever seen snowflakes that large before. They all melted right away though.

Last night, I drank absinthe with Stefanie and her friends. If you click the link for absinthe, you will read that absinthe is distilled with wormwood. I don't know what that means, but it does not sound good. Absinthe tastes like black licorice. I do not like black licorice, so I cannot say I am a fan of this drink. However, I did get drunk after slowly drinking one glass. And then I proceeded to have two glasses of wine. Whee! I think I also kind of propositioned some guy in a zip-up sweater about swinging. Not really, but kind of. I don't remember exactly what happened. Oh, I do remember that I told the same zip-up sweater guy that the reason I know Stefanie is that H pulled her key out of a bowl at a swingers' party. So, in summary, you probably don't want to invite me to meet your friends because I am socially awkward.

The first part of this week shall be consumed by cleaning my house before my mom gets here to celebrate Thanksgiving so that she does not know we live in total squalor. Unfortunately, no matter how much I clean, my mom will still think our house is dirty. But I still feel the need to scrub everything.

We always celebrate Thanksgiving at my mom's house, but she got time off from work, my sister isn't able to make it this year, and H probably wouldn't be able to travel to my mom's because of his work, so this year we are having Thanksgiving in Minnesota. I told my mom that I would buy all the groceries, but she still needs to cook everything. My mom said no. She will help me, but I am in charge of the meal. Except that she calls me every other day now and tell me something else that she has already cooked and is bringing with her in a cooler. She just can't help herself, and I am glad because I would rather not have Thanksgiving dinner be a disaster. H and I did the final grocery shopping tonight, so $175 later (ugh!), I think we are ready.

Shut Yo' Mouth

I had dinner last night with H, his mom, and his sister. The three of them were discussing someone with whom H and his sister went to high school.

H's Mom: It's amazing that the guy turned out so well considering who his parents are.

H's Sister: Why? What's wrong with his parents?

H's Mom: Oh, I don't know. They are just strange.

H's Sister: What was strange about them?

H's Mom: They were just kind of creepy.

H's Sister: In what way?

H's Mom: They were just creepy.

Me: Did they ask you to swing?



You guys. I asked my mother-in-law if a creepy person asked her to swing! What is wrong with me? But that is what I thought of when she said they were creepy.

H's sister and H's mom busted out laughing. H was both mortified and traumatized. He stared at me and said, "You are speaking to my mother!"

Friend or Foe

First of all, happy October. You know what October means, right? The Holiday House is back! I tried to take pictures today, but they didn't come out very well. I will try again tomorrow.

In other news, a coworker friend (the one who thinks she has a bad haircut) and I had a not very serious at all discussion about friendship. We were talking about the awkwardness of determining how close you are with other people. We decided that the only way to find out how close you are with someone is to bring up an embarrassing topic or make an inappropriate comment and see how the other person reacts. This can be great, like when you discover that the other person really gets your sense of humor, or it can be very awkward, like when you discover that the other person thinks you are a freak. My friend and I have decided that to avoid the awkwardness, we are going to develop a Friendship Questionnaire to hand out to all the people we like (because handing out a questionnaire totally won't be awkward at all). The questionnaire is below.

1. How close is your relationship to me?
a. We are BFF!
b. Close friends
c. Friends
d. Friendly acquaintances
e. I used to like her until she gave me this questionnaire, and now I think she is a freak.
f. Mortal enemies

2. What topics do you feel comfortable discussing with me (repeatedly)?
a. Times I embarrassed myself
b. Boring stories about my work
c. My blog (if you do not know I have a blog, please ignore this option)
d. My love for Ann Taylor Loft
e. The Holiday House
f. Times I winked at my nemesis (also see option 2a above)
g. Pam and Jim (aka PB&J)

Obviously, my coworker friend and I are BFF and can discuss (and have discussed) all of the above topics, except for 2c.

Awkward = Me

Remember my nemesis? We are not best friends or anything, but we are actually pretty friendly to each other these days. I guess he either got over his secret love for me or just toned down a little on his social awkwardness.

So today he stopped by my office at the end of the workday to see if I wanted to go to an impromptu happy hour with a group of coworkers. I couldn't go because I had dinner plans with Stefanie. So I told "John" that I had dinner plans but that I would be interested in going out with coworkers another time.

And then something bad happened. You guys, I can't believe I did this. I winked. Inappropriately. And largely. And involuntarily. John smiled and said he would definitely let me know next time. I am scared.

What if this is my new quirk and I can't stop winking?!

Important Update

While I was in Maine, I got a call from the eye doctor that my glasses were ready. But I couldn't find time to drive all the way to the eye doctor's office and pick them up until Tuesday morning, before my lawyerly presentation. Would you like to know which glasses I picked?

Option 3!

When you helped me to decide which glasses to pick, options 1 and 3 were neck in neck. But what you did not know was that the glasses I chose were $100 less than both other options, so that was really the deciding factor. The other thing you did not know (except for Stefanie) was that these glasses were actually the ones that I already owned (thus explaining why they are so much cheaper - I only had to pay for lenses). I didn't want to tell you that I already owned them so that you would feel free to criticize them if they were ghastly. But I am keeping them for another year at least, so please pretend to like them.

In other news, I saw a work-friend as I was leaving a coffee shop yesterday morning. I said hi to him as I walked past, looking over my shoulder. And I walked right into a big column. It was very smooth.

Prepare Yourselves Before Reading Any Further

I had what I thought was a great idea for a blog post. I was going to post pictures of the guys I had crushes on in high school so that you could see what a fool I was in the mid 1990s. I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I was in high school. In order to do this, I went through some old photo albums to see what pictures I had. I found one guy that I actually still think is quite cute, and I see why I was interested. But the others? Oh, man. I was pretty pathetic. But then I started thinking about how I would feel if some guy I went to junior high with posted a picture of me in junior high and wrote about what a loser he was for liking 13-year-old me. To be honest? I don't think it would hurt my feelings because I think if someone liked me in middle school, there was probably something wrong with them. Exhibit 1 is the picture below, which was taken during the summer between 7th and 8th grade. This picture makes me laugh SO HARD. Seriously, why did my parents let me be seen in public like this?! And that is my sister on the left. OMG. I have no words.


Hello, seventh grade -R-! I really enjoy your crazy, flyaway bangs; your gigantic, plastic framed glasses; your plaid shorts; and your GREEN socks!

Hold Me Now

I am very nervous because I have to do a lawyerly presentation type thing tomorrow. And I am speaking in front of people who know a lot more than I do about the subject. So good times will be had by no one. I am praying that I don't make a fool of myself, which is always a good goal, I think.

This past weekend, H and I went to one of his friend's house for a pig roast. I can't say I had ever been to a pig roast before. It was fun to pig out (I am hilarious!) and hang out with H's friends. H's friend lives in a really nice neighborhood in St. Paul that we have never been to before. H and I both loved the neighborhood, so when we got home, I spent the night looking up real estate info for the area. I found a few houses that H and I both really liked, and we started talking about visiting open houses and calling realtors. And then a few hours later I thought about the fact that we only have $200 in savings. I don't think that will quite cover the down payment or even the closing costs. Not to mention the fact that we can't actually afford any of the houses that H and I fell in love with. But it was fun to think about for a few hours. Much more fun to think about than this presentation I have to do in 11 hours. Aaaargh.

A Referral

Lawyerish wants to hear about your worst (or most hilarious) date. So please go to her site and share your story. You do not know how much I love this kind of thing. If you guys leave her some good comments, I promise to share the humiliating things that I will inevitably say and do during interview season (starting next week, I think) this year.

Tidbits

How I Rate Movies

Fantastic: Knocked Up, The Sound of Music, The Bourne Identity, Elf
Great: Superbad, Clueless, Talladega Nights
Good: 40 Year Old Virgin, Mallrats, Anchorman
Eh: American Pie
Horrible, Do Not Go See This: Wedding Crashers, Two and a Half Men*

*I had to throw this in, so great is my vendetta against this show.


Your Craziness Inspires Me

Laurie wrote recently that she is such a worrier, she used to make sure her (now ex-)husband knew what pictures he should use in case she went missing or died. And I instantly thought of the "run-away bride." Remember? When she went missing, her family supplied the craziest, googley-eyed photo of her to the media. I cannot let that happen to me!

So I asked H if he needed a picture of me for a Missing poster or for my obituary, what would he use? And he said this:
[me holding a box of Peeps while making a face of disgust]

Ummm... no. He seriously loves that picture and even had it as his screensaver at work for a while, but do I want that picture all over CNN? No. So he suggested this:
[a close-up of me looking super-smiley]

I admit it is better, but I don't know why H can't select a normal picture, like this one of my uncle and me.
[picture of my uncle and me]

So I asked H what picture he wanted if he goes missing or dies. Without even pausing, he said, "My drunk David Hasselhoff picture!"
[picture of a shirtless H eating a hamburger while lying on the floor]

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-

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.

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"?

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!"

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?

IT'S THE PROM

[This post has been updated as of 3/27/07.]

Panic attack!

I challenged all of you to post a picture of yourself from your high school prom, and I was worried I wouldn't get home from work in time to write this post. Luckily, I got home at 9:20, but then I COULD NOT FIND A PICTURE OF MYSELF AT PROM. I looked through four different photo albums and a big plastic bin before I finally did find some pictures from my junior prom. Phew. I also found the most embarrassing photo of me EVER. Maybe some day I will be brave enough to post it, but that day is not today.

A side note: H insists that I never went to prom. We went to high school in different states and didn't meet until I was 22 and H was 23, but H insists that he knows I didn't go to prom. In fact, I went to both my junior and senior proms. These pictures will do nothing to prove to H that I actually went to prom. Just like he insists that Dr Pepper does not have caffeine and there is no such thing as Caffeine Free Dr Pepper. H is weird. I have no explanation.

Without further ado, a picture of me before the prom.

Nerdy, but not as embarrassing as I was afraid it might be.
[I have changed my mind. Every time I look at this picture, it gets worse. The glasses. The hair. OMG, why did my mom not insist that she help me with my makeup because I look like a freak! And I have no idea what shoes I wore, but I am sure they were bad. Oh, man.]
[PS Those are sequins on the top. I was very shiny. But I still have fond feelings for the dress.]

Here is a group picture:

Ok, never mind, we are all nerds. Especially my date and me. No offense to my date.

I am not sure why all these people are in the picture. My date (the guy farthest to the right) and I went to dinner with 3 other couples (red dress and her date, white top/black bottom and her date, and purple dress and her date), so I have no idea why those other 2 couples are in the picture.

Also, as I mentioned in the comments to my last post, I was the one who asked my date to prom. I called and invited him to the prom, and his response was, "I have to ask my parents. I'll call you back later." Oh, the rejection! But then he called me back later that day or the next day and said he would go with me. Oh, the acceptance!

Other brave souls who have accepted my challenge [now updated as of Thursday night, but I will continue to update as I find more people who have met the challenge]:
Sass Attack
Love Is Blonde
Hola Isabel
Stefanie Says [While there is no prom picture, Stefanie gets half-credit for a good story.]
Sunday Undies
Stephanie at Mama Drama
Jenny at Mama Drama
Face Down
Power Purl Girl
Emelou
Grumpy Frump
Preppy Girl's Guide
Paisley Propaganda
Maliavale
Jurgen Nation
Nothing Heavy
Anniina


I'm not sure why I refer to everyone by their blog name, but I do. And if I have left you off the list, it was inadvertent. Leave me a comment or send me an e-mail, and I will fix it.

But anyway... I think H is feeling a little left out, so here is a cute picture of him from the first wedding we went to together, about five years ago.

MIA

Lest you think I actually am trapped in my closet, let me reassure you that I am not. I am actually trapped in my office. Not really much better, but at least the office has running water and Diet Dr Pepper. My life shall probably be like this all week, but that happens very rarely for me, so I am just going to think of it as a good way to build up extra billable hours, which will hypothetically permit me to take a vacation this summer. And I can work from home at night, so I actually got home at a decent time and got to spend about 30 minutes with H and have a "homemade meal", which was nice. The homemade meal was vegetarian corndogs, but still.

So recently I had a way-too-long conversation with the main floor receptionist at my office. I went to her desk to pick up a contract that had just been delivered for me. I told the receptionist, "Hi, I'm -R-, and I need to pick up an envelope that was just delivered."

The receptionist started freaking out because she couldn't find it in the first .1 seconds after I asked. Then when she found it (it only took about 10 seconds, but she was panicking at that point), she asked who I was.

"I'm -R-," I said.

She argued with me. Then she proceeded to look up my picture on the company website and tell me I look nothing like my picture. I offered to show her my i.d. and asked if I could have my envelope. She would not give me the envelope until she had finished telling me every detail that was different between Actual -R- and the Picture of -R-. In case you are wondering, in the picture: I have longer hair, am not wearing glasses, am facing at a different angle, am wearing a different outfit, have different earrings in, and my nose looks different. I pretended to be interested in each discrepancy, when really I was just thinking, "AAAAAAAAARGH." But I am not a pirate and am in fact a nice person, so I thanked her and then ran away.

Want Some Candy, Little Boy?

Today, I shall continue to post pictures that you requested.

Libragirl asked to see my mountains of laundry so that she can be reassured she is not the only one who waits too long to do laundry. Unfortunately, I did not remember to take a picture until after I had done three loads of laundry, but here are some random towels waiting at the bottom of the laundry chute.


Here is the picture of H being pelted by ninjas, requested by Guinness Girl. Doesn't H look so happy that his wife has a blog?


H and I went to a party this weekend, where we met a lot of new people. One of the people we met was a single 26-year-old woman who works as a photographer. She told us that one time she was hit on by a 17-year-old boy while she took his senior pictures. I asked her why she didn't go out with him, and she laughed. But just think about it:
1. The opportunity to re-wear two different bridesmaid dresses (homecoming and prom)
2. He should be nice and respectful because he doesn't really deserve to be dating a hot 26-year-old
3. Don't have to stay out late (since he has a curfew)
4. Easy to impress
5. Will probably watch chick flicks with you without complaining
6. Won't expect you to hang out very often on weeknights
7. Don't have to go to any of his lame office parties
8. Free coffee or movie tickets or fast food, depending on where he works

Not that I want to date a 17-year-old. I only have one bridesmaid dress to re-wear anyway.

Two Stories of Awkwardness: Only One Stars Me!

Coworker With Two Kids in College: Our other coworker was busy on Saturday because he was at his daughter's 16th birthday party.

My Friend: Really? He doesn't seem old enough to have a 16-year-old daughter!

Coworker: ...

My Friend: You don't seem old either! Uh, have a good lunch!

[Followed by me my friend running to my her office and hiding from the other coworker all day.]

The thing is that the coworker with two kids in college really doesn't seem old enough to have two kids in college. I am a dork.

***
One day during law school, my friend and I were walking across the undergraduate campus to get some lunch. A very hot girl was walking towards us, and said hi to my friend. My friend smiled and said hello to her.

"That was a really hot girl!" I said to my friend with my eyebrows raised.

He told me that he had gone on a date with her in college. Now I was even more intrigued. He admitted that the date had not gone well.

My friend and the girl had a decent first date. They went to dinner and a movie and seemed to have fun together. When my friend dropped the girl off after the date, she told him that she had a really good time and they should go out again. My friend agreed.

A few days later, my friend was having a snack and decided it would be the perfect time to give the girl call. He dialed her number, and as he waited for her or the answering machine to pick up, he put a chip in his mouth. As the answering machine picked up, he started choking. So his message was, "COUGH. Hey, Girl. This is COUGH Friend. COUGH. I had a COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH." Hang up.

He decided to try again. "Sorry about that last message. This is Friend. I had a really good time last weekend, and I am wondering if you want to go out again. Anyway, I was thinking maybe we could see another movie. There are some good ones out right now. Give me a call. My number is xxx-xx" BEEP.

Cut off by the answering machine. So he tried again. "Hi. Sorry. It's Friend again. I think my phone number got cut off. My number is xxx-xxxx. Bye."

She never called. He did not wonder why.

A few months later, my friend was studying in the library and saw her at a table across the room. He thought it would be polite to go say hello to her. Plus, she was still really hot. So my friend started to walk across the room. But of course he tripped over an outlet in the middle of the floor and fell face first. He looked up to see if anyone had noticed. Yes, EVERYONE had noticed. But he couldn't exactly pretend that he wasn't walking over to say hi to the girl, so he smiled and went up to her. They actually had a nice conversation and he made her laugh a couple of times.

"Score!" my friendthought. "I'm going to give her a call tomorrow."

He walked back to his table. And tripped over the same outlet, falling to the ground. As he was getting back up, he realized that his fly had been unzipped the whole time. And not just a little bit. It was wide open. With a little bit of his shirt sticking out of it.

He didn't call her the next day.