Friday, November 30, 2007
I Love You, Bobby Beeeeeeeeeeee
The last post of November should be a good one, right? I should go out with a bang, not a whimper! Unfortunately, I am exhausted, and I had a horrible day yesterday, and I feel meh.
Here is an e-mail I wrote to Metalia on Monday because the Vikings trounced the NY Giants:
Subject: Not to hurt your feelings, but...
Eli Manning sucks!
Love,
-R-
PS Every time the announcers said something about Bobby Wade (a Vikings player), I yelled out "I see you, Bobby Waaade!" in my Maya Rudolph as Whitney Houston voice ("Bobby Beeeeeeee!").
PPS If none of this makes sense, please ignore. Thanks.
I am not an Eli Manning fan. But I am a fan of Tiki Barber, who was on Project Runway on Wednesday night. I have been a fan of his for a few years. I would probably like Ronde (Tiki's twin brother) too, but I haven't seen him in any interviews recently. Can you imagine growing up with the name Tiki, though? He had to become an NFL player just to escape being beat up, I think.
I have a very preppy, feminine name. I wonder how I would be different if my name were Elektra or Rainbow. Would you hire an attorney named Elektra or Rainbow?
Anyway, back to the e-mail to Metalia. In a later e-mail I told her that I would have a Gossip Girl forum on my blog on Wednesday night. But then I decided that I really wanted to write about my grandmother instead. So today, here is your chance to discuss Gossip Girl if you so choose. I didn't like this week's episode because it was all about the parents. Whatever. I don't care about the parents. And the Rufus/Lily/Whatever Rufus' Wife's Name Is is so contrived. I still can't decide if I like Nate (Blair's ex-boyfriend). Do you like him? I think Dan is kind of a wimp, and I am not his biggest fan. Blair is really growing on me though. I really like her now. Thoughts?
PS SHIT. I drafted this last night and then published it this morning, and I originally published it with the draft date and time instead of the publication date and time. But I posted it on Friday, so it is my Friday post.
Here is an e-mail I wrote to Metalia on Monday because the Vikings trounced the NY Giants:
Subject: Not to hurt your feelings, but...
Eli Manning sucks!
Love,
-R-
PS Every time the announcers said something about Bobby Wade (a Vikings player), I yelled out "I see you, Bobby Waaade!" in my Maya Rudolph as Whitney Houston voice ("Bobby Beeeeeeee!").
PPS If none of this makes sense, please ignore. Thanks.
I am not an Eli Manning fan. But I am a fan of Tiki Barber, who was on Project Runway on Wednesday night. I have been a fan of his for a few years. I would probably like Ronde (Tiki's twin brother) too, but I haven't seen him in any interviews recently. Can you imagine growing up with the name Tiki, though? He had to become an NFL player just to escape being beat up, I think.
I have a very preppy, feminine name. I wonder how I would be different if my name were Elektra or Rainbow. Would you hire an attorney named Elektra or Rainbow?
Anyway, back to the e-mail to Metalia. In a later e-mail I told her that I would have a Gossip Girl forum on my blog on Wednesday night. But then I decided that I really wanted to write about my grandmother instead. So today, here is your chance to discuss Gossip Girl if you so choose. I didn't like this week's episode because it was all about the parents. Whatever. I don't care about the parents. And the Rufus/Lily/Whatever Rufus' Wife's Name Is is so contrived. I still can't decide if I like Nate (Blair's ex-boyfriend). Do you like him? I think Dan is kind of a wimp, and I am not his biggest fan. Blair is really growing on me though. I really like her now. Thoughts?
PS SHIT. I drafted this last night and then published it this morning, and I originally published it with the draft date and time instead of the publication date and time. But I posted it on Friday, so it is my Friday post.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Thursday
Sometimes I really need to keep my mouth shut, and sometimes I need to speak up for myself. I wish I were better at distinguishing between these two kinds of situations.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Grandma NC
I only have one living grandparent. And she was put in hospice care today.
My grandma and I were never close. It isn't that I don't like her, but I can't really say that we ever had fun together. I feel bad for not being able to list all the awesome things I love about her that make her the best grandma ever. What I remember most about her is her saying bad things about my mom (her daughter-in-law) and complaining about the fact that my hair got darker as I got older. Oh, and the time she served us jello with mayonnaise on it, and I thought the mayonnaise was whipped cream, so I ate it, and then I almost barfed.
My dad's dad died in some kind of farming accident when my dad was only 10, and my grandma never really got over it. My grandma had to move to town with her three children. My dad, who was the youngest and the only boy, had to teach his older sisters and my grandma how to drive. My grandma started working in a factory that made plush items, like stuffed animals and college-themed blankets and toy mascots. She used to be able to name almost any college's mascot if you asked her. I don't think my grandma had any education beyond high school, but all three of her children went on to get master's degrees.
My grandma's favorite story to tell us was that in high school, all the girls had to make aprons and embroider their initials on them. Then they had to wear those aprons and take turns serving lunch to the school. My grandma's initials were NC, and all the boys called her North Carolina.
My grandma used to ride the bus to school from the farm she grew up on, and the bus was so cold that they would heat bricks by the fireplace as they got ready for school, and then take the bricks on the bus and rest their feet on the hot bricks.
My grandmother lived alone until my freshman year of college. But she was forgetting things all the time. Important things like that she had to eat every day. So my aunt forced my grandma to move into an assisted living facility, and my grandma was so mad. She used to make up crazy things like that the cooks made them eat waffles made only of water. Eventually, she started to really like the home. But she forgot more and more all the time. When I saw her three years ago, she had no idea who I was, but she knew from the way others acted that she was supposed to know who I was, so she tried to fake it. When I saw her two years ago, she pretended like she was asleep so that she wouldn't have to talk to me. When I visited her town in May, I didn't go visit her. I knew that she was being taken care of, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, and I didn't want to see how far she had deteriorated. I don't feel bad about that decision, but I do feel bad for not feeling bad.
Today my dad told me that my grandma hasn't eaten in a few days and the only word she will say is water. She can't get in and out of a bed, so she pretty much lives in a wheelchair that can recline. My grandma used to walk two miles every single day and walk to the post office every day to chat with everyone who came in about what was going on around town. And now... I don't know. I just pray that she is comfortable.
So I realize that this post just consists of my random, jumbled thoughts, but I feel jumbled right now. I don't know.
My grandma and I were never close. It isn't that I don't like her, but I can't really say that we ever had fun together. I feel bad for not being able to list all the awesome things I love about her that make her the best grandma ever. What I remember most about her is her saying bad things about my mom (her daughter-in-law) and complaining about the fact that my hair got darker as I got older. Oh, and the time she served us jello with mayonnaise on it, and I thought the mayonnaise was whipped cream, so I ate it, and then I almost barfed.
My dad's dad died in some kind of farming accident when my dad was only 10, and my grandma never really got over it. My grandma had to move to town with her three children. My dad, who was the youngest and the only boy, had to teach his older sisters and my grandma how to drive. My grandma started working in a factory that made plush items, like stuffed animals and college-themed blankets and toy mascots. She used to be able to name almost any college's mascot if you asked her. I don't think my grandma had any education beyond high school, but all three of her children went on to get master's degrees.
My grandma's favorite story to tell us was that in high school, all the girls had to make aprons and embroider their initials on them. Then they had to wear those aprons and take turns serving lunch to the school. My grandma's initials were NC, and all the boys called her North Carolina.
My grandma used to ride the bus to school from the farm she grew up on, and the bus was so cold that they would heat bricks by the fireplace as they got ready for school, and then take the bricks on the bus and rest their feet on the hot bricks.
My grandmother lived alone until my freshman year of college. But she was forgetting things all the time. Important things like that she had to eat every day. So my aunt forced my grandma to move into an assisted living facility, and my grandma was so mad. She used to make up crazy things like that the cooks made them eat waffles made only of water. Eventually, she started to really like the home. But she forgot more and more all the time. When I saw her three years ago, she had no idea who I was, but she knew from the way others acted that she was supposed to know who I was, so she tried to fake it. When I saw her two years ago, she pretended like she was asleep so that she wouldn't have to talk to me. When I visited her town in May, I didn't go visit her. I knew that she was being taken care of, I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, and I didn't want to see how far she had deteriorated. I don't feel bad about that decision, but I do feel bad for not feeling bad.
Today my dad told me that my grandma hasn't eaten in a few days and the only word she will say is water. She can't get in and out of a bed, so she pretty much lives in a wheelchair that can recline. My grandma used to walk two miles every single day and walk to the post office every day to chat with everyone who came in about what was going on around town. And now... I don't know. I just pray that she is comfortable.
So I realize that this post just consists of my random, jumbled thoughts, but I feel jumbled right now. I don't know.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Pictures on the TV
I was going to do a Guitar Hero tutorial tonight to explain to you how Guitar Hero works, but I got sucked into a new love of mine. Iron Chef America!
In case you don't know, I will explain how this show works (to the best of my knowledge). An Iron Chef competes against another professional chef to make an entire meal in one hour, usually at least four courses, and each course must include the "secret ingredient," which is introduced at the beginning of the show. There are five Iron Chefs, and they each have a specialty, like Japanese or Italian cuisine.
Today was a holiday dessert contest. At the end of the hour, three "celebrity" judges taste each dish and then pick a winner. The show also has a chairman who sits at the judge's table on every show and tries all the dishes. I think he is one of the judges too. Ok, it is clear that I am not an expert on the Iron Chef rules, but you get the general idea.
Tonight was different. It was a holiday dessert cook-off, and there were teams. Paula Deen (Food Network show host) and Cat Cora (Iron Chef) competed against two male chefs who I think are also Food Network show hosts. The secret ingredient was sugar.
And look who the judges were!
H and I both love Tina Fey. H may love her a little bit more than I do.
It was very hard to take pictures of this show because the chefs were running around the kitchen all willy-nilly. (I am pretty sure that is the first time in my life I used the phrase willy-nilly.)
The chefs always have sous-chefs who help them prepare things. This grown woman dressed like an elf for the holiday-themed show. I feel that she does not get paid enough for this.
This is one of the competing chefs. He took off his white chef's jacket and was flashing his arms around. It was weird and slightly disturbing. He also spent a lot of the episode flirting with Paula Deen. Put your coat back on!
Of course, during the commercials I had to flip to this to watch my guys (Duke).
In case you don't know, I will explain how this show works (to the best of my knowledge). An Iron Chef competes against another professional chef to make an entire meal in one hour, usually at least four courses, and each course must include the "secret ingredient," which is introduced at the beginning of the show. There are five Iron Chefs, and they each have a specialty, like Japanese or Italian cuisine.
Today was a holiday dessert contest. At the end of the hour, three "celebrity" judges taste each dish and then pick a winner. The show also has a chairman who sits at the judge's table on every show and tries all the dishes. I think he is one of the judges too. Ok, it is clear that I am not an expert on the Iron Chef rules, but you get the general idea.
Tonight was different. It was a holiday dessert cook-off, and there were teams. Paula Deen (Food Network show host) and Cat Cora (Iron Chef) competed against two male chefs who I think are also Food Network show hosts. The secret ingredient was sugar.
And look who the judges were!
H and I both love Tina Fey. H may love her a little bit more than I do.
It was very hard to take pictures of this show because the chefs were running around the kitchen all willy-nilly. (I am pretty sure that is the first time in my life I used the phrase willy-nilly.)
The chefs always have sous-chefs who help them prepare things. This grown woman dressed like an elf for the holiday-themed show. I feel that she does not get paid enough for this.
This is one of the competing chefs. He took off his white chef's jacket and was flashing his arms around. It was weird and slightly disturbing. He also spent a lot of the episode flirting with Paula Deen. Put your coat back on!
Of course, during the commercials I had to flip to this to watch my guys (Duke).
Monday, November 26, 2007
Double G's Wedding Elephant
Today, I bring to you a guest post by Double G. In case you do not remember everything I have ever written, I met Double G when we were in the same English class in 9th grade. We have been friends now for fourteen years, which I am now realizing is half of my life. Whoa. Anyway, here is Double G's story.
Indian weddings often begin with the groom and his entourage of family and friends arriving at the wedding hall in a grand fashion. Back in the day, the groom’s side would make their way to the bride’s village, singing and dancing all the way, and the groom would be seated on a horse or carriage, or if their families were particularly important, an elephant.
When my husband -S- and I got engaged, we were asked many questions about Indian ceremonies and traditions. One of the most common was whether we would have an elephant at our wedding. In the hopes of getting people excited about attending, -S- would say, “of course!” I would either roll my eyes or shrug my shoulders in response. I was pretty sure there would be no horse and no elephant; most likely -S- would be arriving in his brother-in-law’s convertible.
One day, I came home to my laptop and found that the last words searched for were “elephant rental.” Putting more fuel in the fire, -R- let -S- know that her sister was in vet school and had some circus connections which may help in his quest for an elephant.
The hype around the elephant was growing larger and larger. We created an FAQ section on our wedding website, including “What’s this I hear about elephants?” as one of the questions. -S- insisted that I not edit his response: “Typically, the groom arrives at the wedding hall in a grand fashion with a dancing entourage and seated in a fancy car, on a horse, or even on an elephant. We are partial towards elephants.”
In an email sent to our friends, explaining how the festivities would start, we wrote: “The wedding festivities will begin in typical Indian wedding style with a groom's procession or baraat. The groom, along with his family and friends, will gather outside the wedding hall at the parking lot gate. Our DJ will be in a van blasting music while the procession dances their way to the wedding hall, accompanying -S- in a car/horse/elephant/???.”
Luckily, -S-’s brother-in-law’s convertible made a pretty damn good elephant:
Recently, one of my mom’s coworkers informed us they had sent in pictures of the elephant car into a contest at Car and Driver magazine. It won! So look for it in the January 2008 issue.
For more information on Double G's wedding, you can see my old entries here and here.
Indian weddings often begin with the groom and his entourage of family and friends arriving at the wedding hall in a grand fashion. Back in the day, the groom’s side would make their way to the bride’s village, singing and dancing all the way, and the groom would be seated on a horse or carriage, or if their families were particularly important, an elephant.
When my husband -S- and I got engaged, we were asked many questions about Indian ceremonies and traditions. One of the most common was whether we would have an elephant at our wedding. In the hopes of getting people excited about attending, -S- would say, “of course!” I would either roll my eyes or shrug my shoulders in response. I was pretty sure there would be no horse and no elephant; most likely -S- would be arriving in his brother-in-law’s convertible.
One day, I came home to my laptop and found that the last words searched for were “elephant rental.” Putting more fuel in the fire, -R- let -S- know that her sister was in vet school and had some circus connections which may help in his quest for an elephant.
The hype around the elephant was growing larger and larger. We created an FAQ section on our wedding website, including “What’s this I hear about elephants?” as one of the questions. -S- insisted that I not edit his response: “Typically, the groom arrives at the wedding hall in a grand fashion with a dancing entourage and seated in a fancy car, on a horse, or even on an elephant. We are partial towards elephants.”
In an email sent to our friends, explaining how the festivities would start, we wrote: “The wedding festivities will begin in typical Indian wedding style with a groom's procession or baraat. The groom, along with his family and friends, will gather outside the wedding hall at the parking lot gate. Our DJ will be in a van blasting music while the procession dances their way to the wedding hall, accompanying -S- in a car/horse/elephant/???.”
Luckily, -S-’s brother-in-law’s convertible made a pretty damn good elephant:
Recently, one of my mom’s coworkers informed us they had sent in pictures of the elephant car into a contest at Car and Driver magazine. It won! So look for it in the January 2008 issue.
For more information on Double G's wedding, you can see my old entries here and here.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
A Peek Into H's Worklife
I am in my husband's office right now. We were running errands, and then he had to come into work for a couple of hours, and then we are going to run some more errands. So I am just hanging out right now paying bills online and blogging. I know it is bad to blog from your own office, but is blogging from your spouse's office ok? I think it is.
Let me describe my husband's office to you. It is crazy. First, the monitor is about three feet away from me, and the keyboard I am typing on is balanced on a stack of papers that is about 8 inches high. The background on H's monitor is a picture of me "wearing" an astronaut suit in Chicago. To my left, is a 18 inch tall plastic Incredible Hulk doll. Behind me is a mini-fridge that contains overripe Clementines and light apple juice. His two diplomas are hung behind me to the left. The undergrad diploma is hung so that the bottom of the frame is above my head. Then his law school degree is under it, but WAY under it. Like there are 12 inches between the frames. To my right, H has used thumbtacks to hang a poster of a painting that he really liked in the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This poster is also hung so that it is probably 5 feet 4 inches off the ground. Directly in front of me is a little bookshelf with pictures on top. The pictures are of our nieces and nephews, and there are two pictures of me and H. Oh, also a tiny wallet sized picture of me at my hooding ceremony (law school hooding, not some kind of weird racist thing). There used to be another 18 inch tall Incredible Hulk on the bookshelf, but it fell off as I was typing this. (I dusted earlier and must have made it unbalanced.) About three feet above the bookshelf (and six feet from the floor) is a framed certificate of H's. Oh my gosh, my hands are killing me from trying to type on this massive pile of papers. Ok. There are also copies of the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence on the wall.
So there you go, the pictures a diplomas are nice, I just wish they were hung lower. Oh well. His office is a lot more personalized than mine. Mine is so bland that I am pretty sure no one could guess whose office it is unless they sat in my chair and looked at the few personal pictures I have.
Let me describe my husband's office to you. It is crazy. First, the monitor is about three feet away from me, and the keyboard I am typing on is balanced on a stack of papers that is about 8 inches high. The background on H's monitor is a picture of me "wearing" an astronaut suit in Chicago. To my left, is a 18 inch tall plastic Incredible Hulk doll. Behind me is a mini-fridge that contains overripe Clementines and light apple juice. His two diplomas are hung behind me to the left. The undergrad diploma is hung so that the bottom of the frame is above my head. Then his law school degree is under it, but WAY under it. Like there are 12 inches between the frames. To my right, H has used thumbtacks to hang a poster of a painting that he really liked in the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This poster is also hung so that it is probably 5 feet 4 inches off the ground. Directly in front of me is a little bookshelf with pictures on top. The pictures are of our nieces and nephews, and there are two pictures of me and H. Oh, also a tiny wallet sized picture of me at my hooding ceremony (law school hooding, not some kind of weird racist thing). There used to be another 18 inch tall Incredible Hulk on the bookshelf, but it fell off as I was typing this. (I dusted earlier and must have made it unbalanced.) About three feet above the bookshelf (and six feet from the floor) is a framed certificate of H's. Oh my gosh, my hands are killing me from trying to type on this massive pile of papers. Ok. There are also copies of the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence on the wall.
So there you go, the pictures a diplomas are nice, I just wish they were hung lower. Oh well. His office is a lot more personalized than mine. Mine is so bland that I am pretty sure no one could guess whose office it is unless they sat in my chair and looked at the few personal pictures I have.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Swedish Adventures
I took my mom and her boyfriend to the American Swedish Institute today to entertain them. My mom loves going through historic mansions, and I enjoy it as well. This mansion was completed in 1908 and was crazy gorgeous with elaborate woodwork and porcelain fireplaces in 11 of the 33 rooms. Each room had furniture from the 1880s-1930s and artifacts from Swedish immigrants, but I would have preferred it if the museum showed each room as it would have been decorated/used in the early 1900s. I guess I was less interested in the general Swedish-American experience and more interested in the mansion. None of us is Swedish, but it was still interesting, and we had a good time.
Friday, November 23, 2007
I Am Going To Punch LSU In Its Face
Well, I got some great deals today, but boy, am I tired after starting my shopping at 4 am.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. No. Waking up at 4 am is not something I would do voluntarily.
H went into work today, even though his office is closed (poor H has been working his heart out lately on a big case), and my mom and I lazed around and then went shopping at about 11:30. And you know what? All those crazy early morning sales were still going on. I can understand getting up freakishly early for a crazy deal on electronics that you need or the Cabbage Patch Kid your daughter is going wild for in the year 1985 (thanks, Mom!), but here is a secret. KOHL'S IS ALWAYS HAVING SALES. Where was I? Oh, yes. I woke up at 10 am and still got good deals.
After shopping, we came home and made awesome hot turkey sandwiches. Then we decorated the house for Christmas, and it looks awesome. We are waiting for H to come home, and then we will decorate the tree. Suddenly, I am excited about Christmas!
But do you know what I am not excited about? Football. No more football. I cannot take it any more.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. No. Waking up at 4 am is not something I would do voluntarily.
H went into work today, even though his office is closed (poor H has been working his heart out lately on a big case), and my mom and I lazed around and then went shopping at about 11:30. And you know what? All those crazy early morning sales were still going on. I can understand getting up freakishly early for a crazy deal on electronics that you need or the Cabbage Patch Kid your daughter is going wild for in the year 1985 (thanks, Mom!), but here is a secret. KOHL'S IS ALWAYS HAVING SALES. Where was I? Oh, yes. I woke up at 10 am and still got good deals.
After shopping, we came home and made awesome hot turkey sandwiches. Then we decorated the house for Christmas, and it looks awesome. We are waiting for H to come home, and then we will decorate the tree. Suddenly, I am excited about Christmas!
But do you know what I am not excited about? Football. No more football. I cannot take it any more.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Stuffing Rules!
Before:
After:
I actually did about half of the cooking! We had turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes (I'm not sure why I didn't label this in the pictures, but you can see it there), cheesy potatoes, rolls, Pilgrims' Salad, and cranberry sauce. I cringe a little every time someone mentions having Stovetop stuffing for Thanksgiving because it means that you have not experienced the joy and wonder that is the Crowley family homemade stuffing. If you had experienced this joy, you would never eat Stovetop again. I promise. But then some of you probably look at my table and see the cranberry sauce straight out of the can, with the can indentations still on it, and cry a little. To you, I say, get your priorities straight! Homemade stuffing is the best! Also, I don't like cranberry sauce, so I don't care.
To those of you who are Sconnies and eat KFC for Thanksgiving I say, you can see that we have plenty of leftovers. You are welcome to come over for real stuffing and Guitar Hero.
I have no idea what we are going to do with so much leftover food. I halved all the recipes, and yet, we STILL went way overboard. Thank goodness I didn't listen to my mom who wanted me to buy an even bigger turkey. Yikes.
After:
I actually did about half of the cooking! We had turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes (I'm not sure why I didn't label this in the pictures, but you can see it there), cheesy potatoes, rolls, Pilgrims' Salad, and cranberry sauce. I cringe a little every time someone mentions having Stovetop stuffing for Thanksgiving because it means that you have not experienced the joy and wonder that is the Crowley family homemade stuffing. If you had experienced this joy, you would never eat Stovetop again. I promise. But then some of you probably look at my table and see the cranberry sauce straight out of the can, with the can indentations still on it, and cry a little. To you, I say, get your priorities straight! Homemade stuffing is the best! Also, I don't like cranberry sauce, so I don't care.
To those of you who are Sconnies and eat KFC for Thanksgiving I say, you can see that we have plenty of leftovers. You are welcome to come over for real stuffing and Guitar Hero.
I have no idea what we are going to do with so much leftover food. I halved all the recipes, and yet, we STILL went way overboard. Thank goodness I didn't listen to my mom who wanted me to buy an even bigger turkey. Yikes.
It's Time for Thanksgiving
It has been (gently) snowing all morning, and now there is a light dusting of snow covering the neighborhood. The turkey is cooking, the pumpkin pie is ready, and the stuffing smells incredible.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
(Sorry. It's hard to write a long entry with my mom visiting.)
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
(Sorry. It's hard to write a long entry with my mom visiting.)
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Suck It, Nablopomo
My mom is here, and she has not yet made any comments about our house being dirty, so we are off to a good start. I have been lectured on paying off my mortgage and told that I should have started defrosting the turkey earlier, but whatever. Cheesy potatoes and stuffing are resting in the refrigerator, waiting to be cooked tomorrow. Pumpkin pie will be made tonight, hopefully before Project Runway starts. And I was super grumpy at work today but was able to resist the urge to punch several people in the face, so there you go.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Championship
I am exhausted. One more day of work this week. Thank freaking goodness.
My client was talking about "adult toys" today, and I busted out laughing. Turns out he meant things like snowmobiles and jetskis. Professionalism = me.
A coworker stared at my boobs on at least 3 different occasions today. It was weird. Especially since I was wearing a really high crewneck with a jacket over it. No boobage was visible. I got kind of pissed off and was ready to say, "My eyes are up here, buddy." But at that point he must have gotten over it because he stopped ogling the boobs.
My client was talking about "adult toys" today, and I busted out laughing. Turns out he meant things like snowmobiles and jetskis. Professionalism = me.
A coworker stared at my boobs on at least 3 different occasions today. It was weird. Especially since I was wearing a really high crewneck with a jacket over it. No boobage was visible. I got kind of pissed off and was ready to say, "My eyes are up here, buddy." But at that point he must have gotten over it because he stopped ogling the boobs.
Monday, November 19, 2007
This Post Took Me An Hour To Write, And It Still Sucks
I have been asked by 3carnations to write seven weird or odd or some such adjective things about myself.
While I am sure there are a ton of weird things, I am having trouble coming up with new weird things. I will do my best.
1. I have been -R- Marriedname for over two years now, but every once in a while, usually when talking on the phone at work, I will refer to myself as -R- Maidenname. And then I usually yell out, "Marriedname! -R- Marriedname!" and the person on the other side of the conversation is so glad that he or she has a smart person like me as his or her lawyer.
2. I have a favorite television commercial. It is the one where a bunch of guys are doing a draft for their fantasy football team, and one guy says, "TJ Hoshamizode. Lock it up!" It is probably pretty pathetic that I have a favorite television commercial, so I won't tell you that I say, "TJ Who's your mama. Lock it up!" all the time.
Do you care that H has a favorite commercial too? It is the one where the deli guy tries to order meat, and the supplier says they are out. The deli guy asks, "What, did your wife wolf it down for breakfast?" This makes H laugh every single time.
3. I rarely, if ever, buy clothes that are the right size. I almost always buy them too big and realize after I've worn them 50 times that they don't fit properly. I don't know if it is some weird kind of body image issue or if I am just dumb.
4. I love banana pudding with pieces of real banana in it, but I can't eat a banana by itself. Eating a banana by itself is disgusting. I think it's the texture. Bleck.
5. See also: pineapples. Barf.
6. I am not very good at buying presents for people.
7. I joined a group for 20something bloggers. I am still trying to figure it out and have no idea what I am doing. Why did I join? I have no idea.
To join, you are required to write something about yourself. Here is what I wrote:
I like spaghetti, juggling, Chuck Norris, mittens, Chuck Norris wearing mittens, stupid About Me sections, Jim Halpert, and Guitar Hero.
You also have to complete the following sentence: "People who like ____ will love my blog!" Right now, I have filled in the blank with "sharks." Other suggestions are greatly appreciated.
While I am sure there are a ton of weird things, I am having trouble coming up with new weird things. I will do my best.
1. I have been -R- Marriedname for over two years now, but every once in a while, usually when talking on the phone at work, I will refer to myself as -R- Maidenname. And then I usually yell out, "Marriedname! -R- Marriedname!" and the person on the other side of the conversation is so glad that he or she has a smart person like me as his or her lawyer.
2. I have a favorite television commercial. It is the one where a bunch of guys are doing a draft for their fantasy football team, and one guy says, "TJ Hoshamizode. Lock it up!" It is probably pretty pathetic that I have a favorite television commercial, so I won't tell you that I say, "TJ Who's your mama. Lock it up!" all the time.
Do you care that H has a favorite commercial too? It is the one where the deli guy tries to order meat, and the supplier says they are out. The deli guy asks, "What, did your wife wolf it down for breakfast?" This makes H laugh every single time.
3. I rarely, if ever, buy clothes that are the right size. I almost always buy them too big and realize after I've worn them 50 times that they don't fit properly. I don't know if it is some weird kind of body image issue or if I am just dumb.
4. I love banana pudding with pieces of real banana in it, but I can't eat a banana by itself. Eating a banana by itself is disgusting. I think it's the texture. Bleck.
5. See also: pineapples. Barf.
6. I am not very good at buying presents for people.
7. I joined a group for 20something bloggers. I am still trying to figure it out and have no idea what I am doing. Why did I join? I have no idea.
To join, you are required to write something about yourself. Here is what I wrote:
I like spaghetti, juggling, Chuck Norris, mittens, Chuck Norris wearing mittens, stupid About Me sections, Jim Halpert, and Guitar Hero.
You also have to complete the following sentence: "People who like ____ will love my blog!" Right now, I have filled in the blank with "sharks." Other suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Shopping, Take Two
I tried a smaller mall (last weekend, I went to the Mall of America) today, trying to find some cute clothes. I had two missions: black pants and a cardigan for the sweater dress. Here's what happened.
First, before I went to the mall, I got a haircut. I am very happy with it. H thinks this is a Jennifer Aniston haircut. I do not think so, but H is weird, so I am not worried about this comment. H also hates that I am wearing a long sleeved shirt with a 3/4-length sleeved sweater over it. Too bad.
Then I went to the Gap because I had a coupon for 20% off. I have been looking for a clutch for several months, but all the ones I like are $75 or more. I am not paying $75 for a clutch.
This clutch was only $24.50 (before my coupon), so I bought it.
I also bought this Jackie O jacket, which I can wear with pretty much all my work clothes. I will probably not wear this red shirt with the jacket, but I make no promises.
Here is a picture I took last week of my Banana Republic dress. You can see my old haircut here.
I would freeze in my office this winter in short sleeves, so I needed a way to winterize the sweater dress. I tried wearing shirts under the dress, but the collar is so scoopy (technical term) that nothing worked right.
I found the perfect cardigan at The Gap. I am wearing jeans under the dress in this picture, but only because I didn't feel like taking them off just for the picture.
Here is a close up of my fat feet in the gray tights I will wear with the sweater dress. The tights are from Target.
And here are the shoes I will wear with my sweater dress. I wear these shoes all the time. I heart patent.
So I only accomplished half of my shopping mission, but black pants can wait.
And now you must excuse me because I have to go drink some absinthe.
First, before I went to the mall, I got a haircut. I am very happy with it. H thinks this is a Jennifer Aniston haircut. I do not think so, but H is weird, so I am not worried about this comment. H also hates that I am wearing a long sleeved shirt with a 3/4-length sleeved sweater over it. Too bad.
Then I went to the Gap because I had a coupon for 20% off. I have been looking for a clutch for several months, but all the ones I like are $75 or more. I am not paying $75 for a clutch.
This clutch was only $24.50 (before my coupon), so I bought it.
I also bought this Jackie O jacket, which I can wear with pretty much all my work clothes. I will probably not wear this red shirt with the jacket, but I make no promises.
Here is a picture I took last week of my Banana Republic dress. You can see my old haircut here.
I would freeze in my office this winter in short sleeves, so I needed a way to winterize the sweater dress. I tried wearing shirts under the dress, but the collar is so scoopy (technical term) that nothing worked right.
I found the perfect cardigan at The Gap. I am wearing jeans under the dress in this picture, but only because I didn't feel like taking them off just for the picture.
Here is a close up of my fat feet in the gray tights I will wear with the sweater dress. The tights are from Target.
And here are the shoes I will wear with my sweater dress. I wear these shoes all the time. I heart patent.
So I only accomplished half of my shopping mission, but black pants can wait.
And now you must excuse me because I have to go drink some absinthe.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Yes, This Is What Nablopomo Has Brought Me To Do
And now I have nothing to write about.
I could tell you how I just found one of my blog posts on a weird spam blog. Or I could tell you how tired I am. But instead, I think we should discuss tv this week.
House: I was annoyed by the whole gimmick of having a documentary crew follow House and his compatriots (correct use of that word?) around the hospital. And I find the Crazy Bitch Doctor super annoying. But I am in love with House's best friend, the oncologist played by Robert Sean Leonard. I loved when RSL was making up bad stories about House during his interview by the documentary people. And I loved how the documentary was edited to make it look like House is a freakishly nice guy. "I became a doctor because of the movie Patch Adams!"
Gossip Girl: They played Guitar Hero! I want all their clothes! The end.
Project Runway: Do we really need more than one competitor this season with a Flock of Seagulls haircut? Apparently, we do. I knew that the bottom two contestants would be Eyebrows and Crazy Hippie, and I knew they would keep Crazy Hippie just to see what kooky things she will do next week. Did anyone else think that the dress by the Israeli guy who won the challenge fit the model really weird and made her boobs look like they were at stomach level? No? Just me and H thought that? Ok.
30 Rock: I did not get to see this because my sister-in-law taped Real Housewives of the OC (or whatever it's called) instead. Oh well. I will just watch 30 Rock online. It will be online, right? Sorry, writers' strike people, but I need my 30 Rock.
The Office: Normally, I love Kelly, but she is not allowed to talk smack about my Jim! Pam challenging Kelly to a game of ping pong was awesome. Everyone reading Michael's diary was hilarious but also made me want to give Michael a big hug. Actually, I wanted to give Michael a big hug during this whole episode. Was the best part when the lawyers were trying to figure out who this Ryan person is that Michael was dating? That's what she said.
What am I forgetting?
I could tell you how I just found one of my blog posts on a weird spam blog. Or I could tell you how tired I am. But instead, I think we should discuss tv this week.
House: I was annoyed by the whole gimmick of having a documentary crew follow House and his compatriots (correct use of that word?) around the hospital. And I find the Crazy Bitch Doctor super annoying. But I am in love with House's best friend, the oncologist played by Robert Sean Leonard. I loved when RSL was making up bad stories about House during his interview by the documentary people. And I loved how the documentary was edited to make it look like House is a freakishly nice guy. "I became a doctor because of the movie Patch Adams!"
Gossip Girl: They played Guitar Hero! I want all their clothes! The end.
Project Runway: Do we really need more than one competitor this season with a Flock of Seagulls haircut? Apparently, we do. I knew that the bottom two contestants would be Eyebrows and Crazy Hippie, and I knew they would keep Crazy Hippie just to see what kooky things she will do next week. Did anyone else think that the dress by the Israeli guy who won the challenge fit the model really weird and made her boobs look like they were at stomach level? No? Just me and H thought that? Ok.
30 Rock: I did not get to see this because my sister-in-law taped Real Housewives of the OC (or whatever it's called) instead. Oh well. I will just watch 30 Rock online. It will be online, right? Sorry, writers' strike people, but I need my 30 Rock.
The Office: Normally, I love Kelly, but she is not allowed to talk smack about my Jim! Pam challenging Kelly to a game of ping pong was awesome. Everyone reading Michael's diary was hilarious but also made me want to give Michael a big hug. Actually, I wanted to give Michael a big hug during this whole episode. Was the best part when the lawyers were trying to figure out who this Ryan person is that Michael was dating? That's what she said.
What am I forgetting?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Success?
I am so much more than happy with how the blog share project turned out. These anonyposts (TM 3carnations) are some of the best posts that I have ever read. I would definitely call this a success!
I received a bunch of e-mails and comments today from people asking if they could participate or if this is going to happen again. It is too late to participate, as this was a one day event, but maybe we can try it again in about three months. Save up all your stories about stupid holiday gifts you receive and crazy in-laws, and check back here in February or March. Maybe we can have a St. Valentrick's Day Blog Share Event. (St. Valentrick's Day is the imaginary holiday inbetween Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.) It took some time to organize all this blog share, and I screwed up by sending the person who posted on Sass Attack the wrong e-mail address for L Sass, but it was still kind of fun to organize.
I want to give a special thanks to the person who posted on my blog. I think her post really touched a lot of people, and it was just a beautiful post.
I exchanged e-mail with one of the anonyposters today who was worried that people would try to figure out which post was hers by using the list of participating bloggers. Neither this anonyposter nor I think that there is a big chance of this happening, but some of the posts were really personal, and I don't know, I just think that on Friday morning I'm going to take down the list of participating blogs on my site.
And now I will leave you all alone about the blog share!
I received a bunch of e-mails and comments today from people asking if they could participate or if this is going to happen again. It is too late to participate, as this was a one day event, but maybe we can try it again in about three months. Save up all your stories about stupid holiday gifts you receive and crazy in-laws, and check back here in February or March. Maybe we can have a St. Valentrick's Day Blog Share Event. (St. Valentrick's Day is the imaginary holiday inbetween Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.) It took some time to organize all this blog share, and I screwed up by sending the person who posted on Sass Attack the wrong e-mail address for L Sass, but it was still kind of fun to organize.
I want to give a special thanks to the person who posted on my blog. I think her post really touched a lot of people, and it was just a beautiful post.
I exchanged e-mail with one of the anonyposters today who was worried that people would try to figure out which post was hers by using the list of participating bloggers. Neither this anonyposter nor I think that there is a big chance of this happening, but some of the posts were really personal, and I don't know, I just think that on Friday morning I'm going to take down the list of participating blogs on my site.
And now I will leave you all alone about the blog share!
Blog Share In Action
Today's post is brought to you by an anonymous person who is participating in the blog share. I hope you enjoy this post and check out the other participating bloggers.
I sometimes worry that I am too damaged. I go down my list of “Things that have f*%#ed me up,” and I think that I must be inventing it. The emotionally abusive mom, the cheating ex-boyfriend, the two men who’ve physically hurt me… this stuff doesn’t happen to normal people. This stuff certainly doesn’t all happen to one person. Sometimes I think that I’m crazy, that I’ve imagined my damage. I tell myself that the eating disorder is self-inflicted, a way to add drama to my life. I chastise myself, accusing my brain of remaining a “teenager.” I admonish myself for needing the conflict, needing to be a martyr, needing the added scars for attention. I wonder if I just want to be a “dark poet,” the kid in the back of the class who pulls her flannel shirt sleeves over her hands and looks askance at everyone.
But then I accidentally share with someone. I share a story that I’ve long-since accepted as a part of my history, and I share it with a chuckle. It doesn’t seem to matter what the story is, I am almost always met with silence. I look up and meet a shocked face, and it always takes a few days before the listener stops treating me a little bit more tenderly than normal.
Because I am damaged. I didn’t make it all up. I’m not lying, I’m not trying to make anyone feel sorry for me. I also don’t want to cover up my stories, because this is the way I’ve always seen the world. Conversely, I don’t want to share too much. I want to be normal.
I was never hit, and so I tell myself that my situation isn’t extreme. I still believe that no single thing that has happened to me is more than an average woman’s experience. And that sucks, but it is reality. Compiled together in one list, however, my wounds look like an overwhelming tide. In one list, they look like more baggage than any life partner would ever want to take on, regardless of how lovely I might be in other ways. How do I say to someone, “Please don’t joke about the size of my ass, I have a longstanding eating disorder,” followed immediately with, “Yes, I know that person, but I don’t want to hang out with him since he raped me at a party?” How do I say that to someone? It seems to be too much for another person to bear.
I am damaged. I don’t want anyone else to have to hold up the weight of that damage, and so I hold it all myself. I wish that one day I’d be able to know that someone else could hear it all and still laugh with me, joke with me, love me. I just worry, sometimes, that it is all too much.
I sometimes worry that I am too damaged. I go down my list of “Things that have f*%#ed me up,” and I think that I must be inventing it. The emotionally abusive mom, the cheating ex-boyfriend, the two men who’ve physically hurt me… this stuff doesn’t happen to normal people. This stuff certainly doesn’t all happen to one person. Sometimes I think that I’m crazy, that I’ve imagined my damage. I tell myself that the eating disorder is self-inflicted, a way to add drama to my life. I chastise myself, accusing my brain of remaining a “teenager.” I admonish myself for needing the conflict, needing to be a martyr, needing the added scars for attention. I wonder if I just want to be a “dark poet,” the kid in the back of the class who pulls her flannel shirt sleeves over her hands and looks askance at everyone.
But then I accidentally share with someone. I share a story that I’ve long-since accepted as a part of my history, and I share it with a chuckle. It doesn’t seem to matter what the story is, I am almost always met with silence. I look up and meet a shocked face, and it always takes a few days before the listener stops treating me a little bit more tenderly than normal.
Because I am damaged. I didn’t make it all up. I’m not lying, I’m not trying to make anyone feel sorry for me. I also don’t want to cover up my stories, because this is the way I’ve always seen the world. Conversely, I don’t want to share too much. I want to be normal.
I was never hit, and so I tell myself that my situation isn’t extreme. I still believe that no single thing that has happened to me is more than an average woman’s experience. And that sucks, but it is reality. Compiled together in one list, however, my wounds look like an overwhelming tide. In one list, they look like more baggage than any life partner would ever want to take on, regardless of how lovely I might be in other ways. How do I say to someone, “Please don’t joke about the size of my ass, I have a longstanding eating disorder,” followed immediately with, “Yes, I know that person, but I don’t want to hang out with him since he raped me at a party?” How do I say that to someone? It seems to be too much for another person to bear.
I am damaged. I don’t want anyone else to have to hold up the weight of that damage, and so I hold it all myself. I wish that one day I’d be able to know that someone else could hear it all and still laugh with me, joke with me, love me. I just worry, sometimes, that it is all too much.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Blog Share Participants
I don't want to add this to the end of my guest poster's post tomorrow (plus, we all know I need an easy Wednesday post), so here are all the blogs participating in the blog share on Thursday! Please visit and comment tomorrow!
[I hope you got to check out all the anonymous posts on Thursday, but I have taken down the list of participating blogs.]
[I hope you got to check out all the anonymous posts on Thursday, but I have taken down the list of participating blogs.]
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