Monday, July 31, 2006
some wedding pics
This is Mike and I right after we said our vows. Note Father Creps in the background, giving his blessing.
Ok, this is really our wedding picture. We got married on the train tracks next to the abandoned glass factory in Turtle Creek. Isn't that cute?
this wedding brought to you by the king of beers and the king of kings
Did you know I got married? Well, I did. It was pretty awesome. It started with a big poofy white dress and ended with my friends singing Journey at a karoake bar. If that isn't marital bliss, I don't know what is.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
requiem for a benadryl-ized dream
I haven't dreamed in a long time, because I haven't really slept more than 5 or 6 hours in probably a month, and I'd wake up every hour or so because Herve sleeps with us and periodically settles himself on my face. last night, at my doctor's recommendation, I slipped into a blissful coma thanks to two little pink benadryl pills. And along with a doped up nocturne, I had some crazy dreams...the best one was this:
I was having this big elaborate wedding and everyone was excited and I was in a red satin dress and part of the ceremony was that I tried on different shoes that my grandma made for me (she actually told me that she was inspired to make shoes by something I wrote in my blog). I was standing in a big sleigh, at the back of the church, flanked by all these littel girls I didn't know in white dresses. I was really excited and then I looked up and saw that I was marrying Rory and thought, "Oh...Rory is going to be my husband?" because I guess up until then I wasn't aware of who my new spouse was.
But then I got this weird feeling and all the sudden I realized....I was already married and I couldn't get married again!! At least not in a church!! So I told my Mom that everyone had forgotten I was married and that I couldn't do the ceremony. She listened intently and then said, "Ok, let me go check if this is true", then she ran out of the room!! This Asian man that I didn't know came up the aisle and started motioning and smiling and I was like, "Oh, oh are we starting now?" because people were still milling around. But he kind of nudged me down the aisle and I knew I had to stall for time, so I said, "I don't know how to walk down the aisle by myself, I need to wait for my mom.
Just as everyone in the church (which was completely white, and decorated in a very "Elvis" style) started to seem concerned, my mom came back in and grabbed me. She ran up and told the priest that everyone was pressuring me to get married and that, "We just can't deal with this right now!" She didn't make any mention that I was already married, more like I had other things on my action-item list and this was not a priority. The priest (who looked like a famous actor; a famous actor with giant eyebrows) said, "I understand." but then he gave me this really mean, judgemental Catholic look and then Rory was crying and I started crying. The worst part is that I was crying because the wedding looked really cool and I had to stop it, not so much that I was already married to Mike and no one (including myself) had seemed to remember this small fact.
This dream is ripe for so many interpretations, I'm not going to even bother. I'm sure most of them are sexual, and not in a kinky fun way, but more like a "secret sexual yearning for priests that look like Elvis" creepy kind of way.
I was having this big elaborate wedding and everyone was excited and I was in a red satin dress and part of the ceremony was that I tried on different shoes that my grandma made for me (she actually told me that she was inspired to make shoes by something I wrote in my blog). I was standing in a big sleigh, at the back of the church, flanked by all these littel girls I didn't know in white dresses. I was really excited and then I looked up and saw that I was marrying Rory and thought, "Oh...Rory is going to be my husband?" because I guess up until then I wasn't aware of who my new spouse was.
But then I got this weird feeling and all the sudden I realized....I was already married and I couldn't get married again!! At least not in a church!! So I told my Mom that everyone had forgotten I was married and that I couldn't do the ceremony. She listened intently and then said, "Ok, let me go check if this is true", then she ran out of the room!! This Asian man that I didn't know came up the aisle and started motioning and smiling and I was like, "Oh, oh are we starting now?" because people were still milling around. But he kind of nudged me down the aisle and I knew I had to stall for time, so I said, "I don't know how to walk down the aisle by myself, I need to wait for my mom.
Just as everyone in the church (which was completely white, and decorated in a very "Elvis" style) started to seem concerned, my mom came back in and grabbed me. She ran up and told the priest that everyone was pressuring me to get married and that, "We just can't deal with this right now!" She didn't make any mention that I was already married, more like I had other things on my action-item list and this was not a priority. The priest (who looked like a famous actor; a famous actor with giant eyebrows) said, "I understand." but then he gave me this really mean, judgemental Catholic look and then Rory was crying and I started crying. The worst part is that I was crying because the wedding looked really cool and I had to stop it, not so much that I was already married to Mike and no one (including myself) had seemed to remember this small fact.
This dream is ripe for so many interpretations, I'm not going to even bother. I'm sure most of them are sexual, and not in a kinky fun way, but more like a "secret sexual yearning for priests that look like Elvis" creepy kind of way.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
another year, another series of empty promises to myself
Birthdays always put me in a contemplative mood; once the buzz I get from cupcake frosting wears off, I tend to fall into meditative trance. I think about my life, the past year and what I want to do differently now that I'm a year older. Sometimes I make large goals ("I'm going to run a triathalon this year!") and sometimes I make small goals ("I am going use a fork for at least one meal a day!") but no matter what, I always want to change.
I'd like to think of myself as an continuously evolving entity; every day getting a little smarter, a little better, a little more efficient. Unfortunately that's pretty much a complete lie. I was lucky enough to get through puberty relatively unscathed and I think that took all the effort my body could muster. Now it's on a permanent hiatus... or screen saver, if you will. But you won't. You never do, you bastard.
Luckily, I've never been one to heed the call of reality, so once again, I'm setting some goals for my 24th year:
1. Read a book a week.
Oh god, I couldn't even type that with a straight face. Is it wrong to make a goal that you know is pretty much physically impossible for you to achieve? Oh well. I figure if I aim really really high, when I inevitably fail I might end up settling at something more reasonable, like say, a book a month. But truly, I have so many wonderful books backlogged that I owe it to myself to freaking read them. I'll just have to replace one regular activity in my life with reading, so no time is lost. How long can a human go with out peeing?
2. Get back in shape
You can't tell, but I'm mentally doing quotation fingers as I type "back in shape". I'd physically do them but then I couldn't type, could I, wise guy?? You see, what I regarded as being in shape previously would probably make some of you scoff. "Scoff!" you'd say, "Scoff scoff scoff!" To which I would reply, "Do you need a throat lozenge? You are coughing a lot."
But seriously. There was a time, many months ago, when I was running five miles every day. Where I was lifting weights on a semi-regular basis. Where I was taking 60 minute spinning classes and could still use my legs the next day!!! At some point before the wedding, however, I decided I would look way better if my muscles atrophied themselves into a shapeless goo loosely held together by my skin. And that brings us to today, where I am so out of shape that I gave myself an asthma attack after playing fifteen minutes of soccer. I don't have asthma, people. I am ashamed. But enough dwelling on the past. Today is the future. Er, yeah.
Jen has become so desperate for females to play in a co-ed soccer league with her she actually asked ME if I'd play. Counting the time I played a few weeks ago, I have played a grand total of ONE game of soccer in my life. D'oh! It's not that I don't want to play, it's just that I do not yet grasp any concept of the game (I just figured out the other day that when you teammate gets the ball, you do not run up and hover around them while shouting) and maaaaan, you do a lot of sprinting during a game. But anyway, the point of this paragraph is that I actually swallowed my fear and anxiety and committed to playing soccer. Oy.
Pretty much everyone of my friends out here is athletic; I think that everyone played on organized sports teams in high school, some even in college. So they all easily and eagerly play sport after sport: football, basketball, soccer, full-contact origami, you name it, they'll do it. Except, it seems, for me. Now, I love doing active stuff: hiking, biking, canoeing and kayaking, rock climbing, even just tossing a football around. But the thought of taking an activity and putting together a team of people and competing always brings back memories of gym class shame. I have this complex about stuff, including sports: I feel like if I don't pick up a new skill quickly and then excel at it, I am a failure. Which is pretty hilarious considering I don't really excel at anything at all. Oh man, that isn't hilarious, that's rather depressing. But anyway, if you compound that feeling of personal failure with the additional stress of feeling like you let your teammates down...well, it's too much for my fragile psyche to bear.
Have I waxed on enough about my insecurities and lack of ability in soccer? Have I completely buried my point, which is that I'm joining a soccer league in order to get in shape, no matter how painfully humiliating it is? Good. (You see dear reader, I like to do a lot of smoke and mirror tricks when I play sports; I talk so much about how horrible I am that people don't notice that I'm even more terrible than I claim to be. Or at the very least, I've set the bar so low for myself that people are impressed that I can even walk upright.)
Thus endeth goal number 2.
3. Write...and think more!!
For heaven's sake, I like writing a lot. I'm not really that good, but it brings me pleasure so I should at least try to do it more often. That includes putting more stuff into this-here blog and possibly dipping my toe into the icy waters of creative writing. Now that I'm enrolled back in college, I could probably even take a class. Assuming they can find a way to pry the $200 tuition fee from my miserly claw. I also want to talk with more people about writing and reading books and in general just get some more intellectual stimulation. I'll be getting my brain in shape too! I suspect it has also turned to a mass of goo. (Man, I love the word goo.) Don't get me wrong, I will never shake my love of Simpson's episodes and classic movies, like Super Troopers and Billy Madison. But I fear that I'm using the majority of my brain's capacity to constantly recite lines from Family Guy or Space Balls. Speaking of,
Dark Helmet: Before you die there is something you should know about us, Lone Starr.
Lone Starr: What?
Dark Helmet: I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate.
Lone Starr: What's that make us?
Dark Helmet: Absolutely nothing! Which is what you are about to become.
Oh man, I love that movie. But now I'm going to want to watch the DVD instead of read. Maybe I can find an illustrated book version of the movie at a comic book store. Ooh! Comic books!
Thanks to any of you that read through this entire post. Even I kind of drifted off in the middle there...
I'd like to think of myself as an continuously evolving entity; every day getting a little smarter, a little better, a little more efficient. Unfortunately that's pretty much a complete lie. I was lucky enough to get through puberty relatively unscathed and I think that took all the effort my body could muster. Now it's on a permanent hiatus... or screen saver, if you will. But you won't. You never do, you bastard.
Luckily, I've never been one to heed the call of reality, so once again, I'm setting some goals for my 24th year:
1. Read a book a week.
Oh god, I couldn't even type that with a straight face. Is it wrong to make a goal that you know is pretty much physically impossible for you to achieve? Oh well. I figure if I aim really really high, when I inevitably fail I might end up settling at something more reasonable, like say, a book a month. But truly, I have so many wonderful books backlogged that I owe it to myself to freaking read them. I'll just have to replace one regular activity in my life with reading, so no time is lost. How long can a human go with out peeing?
2. Get back in shape
You can't tell, but I'm mentally doing quotation fingers as I type "back in shape". I'd physically do them but then I couldn't type, could I, wise guy?? You see, what I regarded as being in shape previously would probably make some of you scoff. "Scoff!" you'd say, "Scoff scoff scoff!" To which I would reply, "Do you need a throat lozenge? You are coughing a lot."
But seriously. There was a time, many months ago, when I was running five miles every day. Where I was lifting weights on a semi-regular basis. Where I was taking 60 minute spinning classes and could still use my legs the next day!!! At some point before the wedding, however, I decided I would look way better if my muscles atrophied themselves into a shapeless goo loosely held together by my skin. And that brings us to today, where I am so out of shape that I gave myself an asthma attack after playing fifteen minutes of soccer. I don't have asthma, people. I am ashamed. But enough dwelling on the past. Today is the future. Er, yeah.
Jen has become so desperate for females to play in a co-ed soccer league with her she actually asked ME if I'd play. Counting the time I played a few weeks ago, I have played a grand total of ONE game of soccer in my life. D'oh! It's not that I don't want to play, it's just that I do not yet grasp any concept of the game (I just figured out the other day that when you teammate gets the ball, you do not run up and hover around them while shouting) and maaaaan, you do a lot of sprinting during a game. But anyway, the point of this paragraph is that I actually swallowed my fear and anxiety and committed to playing soccer. Oy.
Pretty much everyone of my friends out here is athletic; I think that everyone played on organized sports teams in high school, some even in college. So they all easily and eagerly play sport after sport: football, basketball, soccer, full-contact origami, you name it, they'll do it. Except, it seems, for me. Now, I love doing active stuff: hiking, biking, canoeing and kayaking, rock climbing, even just tossing a football around. But the thought of taking an activity and putting together a team of people and competing always brings back memories of gym class shame. I have this complex about stuff, including sports: I feel like if I don't pick up a new skill quickly and then excel at it, I am a failure. Which is pretty hilarious considering I don't really excel at anything at all. Oh man, that isn't hilarious, that's rather depressing. But anyway, if you compound that feeling of personal failure with the additional stress of feeling like you let your teammates down...well, it's too much for my fragile psyche to bear.
Have I waxed on enough about my insecurities and lack of ability in soccer? Have I completely buried my point, which is that I'm joining a soccer league in order to get in shape, no matter how painfully humiliating it is? Good. (You see dear reader, I like to do a lot of smoke and mirror tricks when I play sports; I talk so much about how horrible I am that people don't notice that I'm even more terrible than I claim to be. Or at the very least, I've set the bar so low for myself that people are impressed that I can even walk upright.)
Thus endeth goal number 2.
3. Write...and think more!!
For heaven's sake, I like writing a lot. I'm not really that good, but it brings me pleasure so I should at least try to do it more often. That includes putting more stuff into this-here blog and possibly dipping my toe into the icy waters of creative writing. Now that I'm enrolled back in college, I could probably even take a class. Assuming they can find a way to pry the $200 tuition fee from my miserly claw. I also want to talk with more people about writing and reading books and in general just get some more intellectual stimulation. I'll be getting my brain in shape too! I suspect it has also turned to a mass of goo. (Man, I love the word goo.) Don't get me wrong, I will never shake my love of Simpson's episodes and classic movies, like Super Troopers and Billy Madison. But I fear that I'm using the majority of my brain's capacity to constantly recite lines from Family Guy or Space Balls. Speaking of,
Dark Helmet: Before you die there is something you should know about us, Lone Starr.
Lone Starr: What?
Dark Helmet: I am your father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate.
Lone Starr: What's that make us?
Dark Helmet: Absolutely nothing! Which is what you are about to become.
Oh man, I love that movie. But now I'm going to want to watch the DVD instead of read. Maybe I can find an illustrated book version of the movie at a comic book store. Ooh! Comic books!
Thanks to any of you that read through this entire post. Even I kind of drifted off in the middle there...
Wednesday observations
1. Today I drove into work and as I pulled into the parking lot, I caught a whiff of what smelled like burning rubber. I didn't think much of it other than, "Wow how come I never noticed this area smells like a heap of burning tires?"A few minutes later, when I couldn't find an empty space, I got back onto the street to attempt a parallel park (nailed it!) and again I smelled that burning rubber smell. I looked down and lo, my emergency break was on. Now Mike and I have both lately been leaving the e-brake on for some reason, and as Jen can attest, I've even driven long stretches of road with it on before noticing anything was wrong. So I had visions of me somehow driving on MULTIPLE HIGHWAYS at 80+ MPH with my emergency brake practically smoking while I shrieked along with my new Muse CD, completely unaware of the trauma my car was enduring. I contemplated going to a mechanic to have them assess the damage and the actual monetary value of my stupidity. However, when I got back in the car to run to Kinko's and back WITHOUT the brake on, I noticed the same smell. So, the good news is I probably am only half as dumb as I had originally thought. The bad news is that area around my office smells like a cross between a fat rendering plant and a burning pile of tupperware.("Once you get used to the it, you'll wonder how you ever lived without the smell of burning pig fat")
2. When I started working as a temp, I followed the office dress code to a T. I liked "business casual", mostly because I loved being able to wear cool grown-up clothes (most of which I acquired at Target. Gratuitous Target plug!!!). Trust me, after 24 months in the same pair of maroon velour track pants, the thought of wearing high heels and button down shirts was thrilling. Anyway, I would dress in my cute little outfits, but even then, I seemed to be overdressed for the office. I didn't really care though. And come Friday, I wore jeans like everyone else; I was never told Friday was a casual day, but I figured it was an unspoken thing. But then I saw people coming on Fridays wearing sweatpants and flip flops. Ok, I thought, I guess they have a very progressive stance on "casual". But then come Monday, I saw people in jeans and t-shirts. At first I resisted, but after a few weeks of getting to work late because I spent time ironing a shirt, I started wearing jeans too. At first it was jeans and nice shoes. But eventually I've deteriorated to what I'm wearing today: A dirty pair of jeans and a t-shirt that says "I Love Carbs" with beat up tennis shoes and my hair in pigtails. I look like I should be perusing the aisles of Hot Topic. The shirt I'm wearing also is on the small side and it tends to ride up and expose a little midriff, which I am mortified over. All day I have been yanking my shirt down and slouching so I don't look like the office slut. But just as I began to think I was the loosest dress code follower in the office, I ran into one of the ladies in accounting, who was wearing a pair of spandex running shorts and a tank top. She looked like she was going out for a jog...and she did!! And THEN, after lunch, she came back from her run and proceeded to walk around the office in her RED SPORTS BRA. I was in shock. And awe. She is in great shape, so it wasn't unpleasant, just...jarring. She looked like she should be curling 20's, not picking up a fax and chatting by the water cooler. So I'm pretty sure this Friday I can show up in my bathing suit and no one would bat an eye. If I could figure out a way to set up a slip n slide, I just might do it!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
berfday loot
Woohoo!!
I'm in a biblio/audiophile heaven!!!
For my birthday, I have already aquired 4 books and 3 CDs! And all before my actual birthday!!
Ok, granted, I bought 3 of those books and 2 of those CDs myself. But they were personal b-day presents. And Mike promised more books and music to come. Eeeeeee!!
I now own the new Muse, Thom Yorke and Gnarls Barkley CDs, as well as The Life of Pi, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and My Goodness: A Cynics Shortlived Search for Sainthood.
I think at this point, I am honestly looking at a 12+ book backlog. I have a serious problem people. Last night, we stopped into Barnes and Noble to kill sometime; I picked up three books during the walk from the entrance to the back of the store. If I had to average it out, I probably grab books at a rate of one per half second. mother of god.
**Berfday update
My wonderful husband also got me two more books: Crossworld and Spin Sisters PLUS two basil plants, one rosemary and sage plant, and a giant Hawaiin orchid. And at Dave and Busters, Jerry played skeeball on a defective machine that pretty much added 500 points to whatever your score was, so we were able to amass 850 tickets, and I got my very own stuffed Homer doll. Best birthday ever!!!
I'm in a biblio/audiophile heaven!!!
For my birthday, I have already aquired 4 books and 3 CDs! And all before my actual birthday!!
Ok, granted, I bought 3 of those books and 2 of those CDs myself. But they were personal b-day presents. And Mike promised more books and music to come. Eeeeeee!!
I now own the new Muse, Thom Yorke and Gnarls Barkley CDs, as well as The Life of Pi, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time and My Goodness: A Cynics Shortlived Search for Sainthood.
I think at this point, I am honestly looking at a 12+ book backlog. I have a serious problem people. Last night, we stopped into Barnes and Noble to kill sometime; I picked up three books during the walk from the entrance to the back of the store. If I had to average it out, I probably grab books at a rate of one per half second. mother of god.
**Berfday update
My wonderful husband also got me two more books: Crossworld and Spin Sisters PLUS two basil plants, one rosemary and sage plant, and a giant Hawaiin orchid. And at Dave and Busters, Jerry played skeeball on a defective machine that pretty much added 500 points to whatever your score was, so we were able to amass 850 tickets, and I got my very own stuffed Homer doll. Best birthday ever!!!
Monday, July 17, 2006
23.99999
Some thoughts on turning 24:
1. Woohoo!!
2. Wait, doesn't this mean I'm old?
3. I don't feel old.
4. Well, actually, my back kind of hurts.
5. Gasp!!
6. Well, at least I'm not old old.
7. Like 25.
8. Just kidding!
9. Not really.
10. So what is there to look forward to when you're 24?
11. Nothing.
12. I still can't rent a car.
13. And I still look young enough to get carded for buying like, cough syrup.
14. So, really, this is just a blow-off birthday.
15. Which means I can be happy!!
16. Cause it's an excuse to play skee-ball and get presents!!
17. And eat ice cream cake!!
18. Mmmm, fudgey center and chocolate crumblies.
19. Woohoo!!!
20. Look, I've come full circle! Also, now my list ends at a nice, even number. My OCD is appeased.
Sooo. Tomorrow I am the big two-four. Yikes. I'm not so much freaked out by turning a year older as I am by the fact that another year has already passed. Already!!! I feel like it was just yesterday when I was pummeling the heck out of my birthday pinata and stuffing it's contents into my pockets. (This is a true story.) Time sure seems to have flown. That or my senility is furthering it's icy grip on my brain.
Ten years ago...I was a wee lass, freshly turned fourteen years old. I still remember that day so clearly. I broke open my cocoon with my fuzzy proboscis and squirmed my way into the world, the sun gently drying my embryonic exoskeleton until it shone. I could hardly wait to unfurl my wings from under their armor-like shells and buzz off to find a male to mate with and possibly feast upon for sustenance.
Wait.
That didn't happen on my fourteenth birthday. That was an episode of Nova I watched last night on PBS. Damn PBS!! When will your entertaining yet educational programming stop appropriating my subconscious thought?!?!
So anyway.
Ten years ago
I was an akward fourteen year old freshman dork in the marching band, dating a guy named Mario Siciliano. As you can tell from the name, he was Japanese.
When I think back to what a silly obnoxious little geek I was, I want to go back in time and give Young Me a hug. I'd tell her, "Don't worry...you will get slightly less irritating". Then I'd trick Young Me into giving Current Me 20 bucks for "bus fare". Sucker.
Five years ago
I was 19, just finished my freshman year of college. I felt like I owned the world. I was a dating a very nice guy and I had 700 MP3's that I had gleefully pirated from Napster. Life was good. Unfortunately, this was also when I started waitressing at Pizza Hut. That summer, I was introduced to a breed of people I had never encountered before: The irate and obese white trash family. They were like locusts; they descended upon the lunchtime pizza bar with a fury that was almost mesmerizing. And nauseating. By the end of the summer, it was all I could do not to shriek:
"WHY are you even bothering to ask for the "salad bar"??? We both know that to qualify as a salad, you need to have at least some freaking LETTUCE!! Why don't you just ask if you can glop a pile of bacon bits, cheddar cheese and ranch dressing on a plate and shovel it into your mouth?? Oh, and don't worry, your deep fried mozzarella sticks will be out here well before we serve your stuffed crust pizza with triple cheese and meat. And the extra containers of grease and oven drippings. Shall I bring out the defibulator now, or after your left arm goes numb???"
(Note the use of red, to indicate rage).
It was during these three months I came to know the true meaning of the word "jaded".
Wait, actually, I worked at Dairy Queen the year before that, so I guess I was really quite used to having my spirit broken by disgust.
One year ago
I was engaged, so still ankle deep in wedding planning (shudder), we hadn't bought Herve yet, so I had yet to discover the joys of pulling dog hair out of my mouth every 5 minutes. I was still working as a project manager ... wait..sorry... I almost threw up in my mouth a little. Ok I'm better. I don't remember much else to be honest. It was blurry year. but I do clearly remember my birthday party, where my awesome boyfriend gave me a pinata, which I had ALWAYS wanted. He filled it with candy and army men and bouncy balls and I whacked the heck out of that paper mache donkey. It. was. awesome. And happily, I still get to relive that party to this day; I am still finding chunks of ancient Now and Laters in every crevice of our apartment.
So what will this year hold for me? I'm not sure, but given my past record, there will be a lot of sleeping, eating, and going to work. As for the other fluff, I guess only time will tell.
But I will worry about all that later. Tonight I am going to play skeeball. Mazel Tov!!
1. Woohoo!!
2. Wait, doesn't this mean I'm old?
3. I don't feel old.
4. Well, actually, my back kind of hurts.
5. Gasp!!
6. Well, at least I'm not old old.
7. Like 25.
8. Just kidding!
9. Not really.
10. So what is there to look forward to when you're 24?
11. Nothing.
12. I still can't rent a car.
13. And I still look young enough to get carded for buying like, cough syrup.
14. So, really, this is just a blow-off birthday.
15. Which means I can be happy!!
16. Cause it's an excuse to play skee-ball and get presents!!
17. And eat ice cream cake!!
18. Mmmm, fudgey center and chocolate crumblies.
19. Woohoo!!!
20. Look, I've come full circle! Also, now my list ends at a nice, even number. My OCD is appeased.
Sooo. Tomorrow I am the big two-four. Yikes. I'm not so much freaked out by turning a year older as I am by the fact that another year has already passed. Already!!! I feel like it was just yesterday when I was pummeling the heck out of my birthday pinata and stuffing it's contents into my pockets. (This is a true story.) Time sure seems to have flown. That or my senility is furthering it's icy grip on my brain.
Ten years ago...I was a wee lass, freshly turned fourteen years old. I still remember that day so clearly. I broke open my cocoon with my fuzzy proboscis and squirmed my way into the world, the sun gently drying my embryonic exoskeleton until it shone. I could hardly wait to unfurl my wings from under their armor-like shells and buzz off to find a male to mate with and possibly feast upon for sustenance.
Wait.
That didn't happen on my fourteenth birthday. That was an episode of Nova I watched last night on PBS. Damn PBS!! When will your entertaining yet educational programming stop appropriating my subconscious thought?!?!
So anyway.
Ten years ago
I was an akward fourteen year old freshman dork in the marching band, dating a guy named Mario Siciliano. As you can tell from the name, he was Japanese.
When I think back to what a silly obnoxious little geek I was, I want to go back in time and give Young Me a hug. I'd tell her, "Don't worry...you will get slightly less irritating". Then I'd trick Young Me into giving Current Me 20 bucks for "bus fare". Sucker.
Five years ago
I was 19, just finished my freshman year of college. I felt like I owned the world. I was a dating a very nice guy and I had 700 MP3's that I had gleefully pirated from Napster. Life was good. Unfortunately, this was also when I started waitressing at Pizza Hut. That summer, I was introduced to a breed of people I had never encountered before: The irate and obese white trash family. They were like locusts; they descended upon the lunchtime pizza bar with a fury that was almost mesmerizing. And nauseating. By the end of the summer, it was all I could do not to shriek:
"WHY are you even bothering to ask for the "salad bar"??? We both know that to qualify as a salad, you need to have at least some freaking LETTUCE!! Why don't you just ask if you can glop a pile of bacon bits, cheddar cheese and ranch dressing on a plate and shovel it into your mouth?? Oh, and don't worry, your deep fried mozzarella sticks will be out here well before we serve your stuffed crust pizza with triple cheese and meat. And the extra containers of grease and oven drippings. Shall I bring out the defibulator now, or after your left arm goes numb???"
(Note the use of red, to indicate rage).
It was during these three months I came to know the true meaning of the word "jaded".
Wait, actually, I worked at Dairy Queen the year before that, so I guess I was really quite used to having my spirit broken by disgust.
One year ago
I was engaged, so still ankle deep in wedding planning (shudder), we hadn't bought Herve yet, so I had yet to discover the joys of pulling dog hair out of my mouth every 5 minutes. I was still working as a project manager ... wait..sorry... I almost threw up in my mouth a little. Ok I'm better. I don't remember much else to be honest. It was blurry year. but I do clearly remember my birthday party, where my awesome boyfriend gave me a pinata, which I had ALWAYS wanted. He filled it with candy and army men and bouncy balls and I whacked the heck out of that paper mache donkey. It. was. awesome. And happily, I still get to relive that party to this day; I am still finding chunks of ancient Now and Laters in every crevice of our apartment.
So what will this year hold for me? I'm not sure, but given my past record, there will be a lot of sleeping, eating, and going to work. As for the other fluff, I guess only time will tell.
But I will worry about all that later. Tonight I am going to play skeeball. Mazel Tov!!
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
a survey a day
Keeps me from coming up with an original topic to post about...yay!
I keep seeing this survey/question thing everywhere. I think a new version crops up every 2 weeks. Why do we love these things so much? What an exercise in self-indulgence. Here's mine!
Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18 and find line 4:
I am at work, so I am not near any books. I can however, turn to page 18 in my MESA COLLEGE FALL 2006 CLASS SCHEDULE and it has...well about 50 listings for English classes. How anti-climactic.
Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, what do you find?
A tape dispenser. Is that what it's called? For some reason that doesn't sound right. A tape holding dock?
What is the last thing you watched on TV?
The 11PM Simpsons on Fox. It's pretty sad, but I feel very OFF if I don't watch both the 7PM and 11PM Simpson episodes...every day. (The episode was the one where Homer steals free cable...a classic)
Without looking, guess what time it is.
10:15AM (Isn't if funny that when you are told to do something"without looking", you immediately want to look? I had to hold my eyeballs in place with my index fingers.
Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
10:12AM.
With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The lady in the office next to me. For about 3 weeks I thought there was a man next door until one day when I saw this lady open her mouth and that man voice came out. Seriously, it's freaking weird. She also kind of looks like a guy...a guy that wears green eyeshadow and sweatshirts with iron-on pictures of dogs. I am digressing. Kids, don't smoke!
When did you last step outside?
This morning, while walking Herve. Did I say walking? I meant being DRAGGED by Herve. My upper body strength has deteriorated to the point where my 20lb dog can nearly wrench my shoulder from it's socket.
Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
I was randomly scrolling through blogs and found this "survey", which I have seen on several people's online journals now, including the very funny Ramin. If it weren't for online journaling, I would get work done. That's a very chilling thought.
What are you wearing?
A tub of mayonaise and a smile.
Did you dream last night?
Yes. About a tub of mayonnaise. That's what happens when you eat an entire tub of mayonnaise and then chase it with Peach Schnapps right before bed. It's a little cocktail I like to call, "Disgusting".
When did you last laugh?
This morning while walking Herve. He peed on a fire hydrant. Did he realize how stereotypically DOG he was being??? It just cracked me up! Although, truth be told, I laugh when anyone urinates on curbside objects.
What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Nothing. I am in a lonely, barren little hovel.
Seen anything weird lately?
This morning I thought I found a second head sprouting out of the top of my shoulder. It was actually just a freckle in the shape of my head (if my head was perfectly round and brown). False alarm. Again. Sigh.
What do you think of this quiz?
This is a quiz? Who the hell is grading this thing?! Oh man, I'm totally going to fail Answering Personal Questions 101.
What is the last film you saw?
I was going to say Hotel Rwanda (excellent film) but I just remembered this FREAKY movie I watched on KUSI two Saturdays ago. It was one of those obscure movies from the mid-80's that they always show on affiliate stations in the afternoon. I think it was called The Hotel New Hampshire. It had Jody Foster and Rob Lowe and honest to god revolved heavily around incest, communist pornography and family values. It was like watching my early childhood on film!!
If you turned into a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
I'd buy my parents a new house in woods, my brother Ian a college education, my best friends plane tickets to Europe, Mike a private recording studio, and myself...the entire DVD collection of the Simpson's episodes. Honestly.
If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt and politics, what would you do?
I know it's extremely hackneyed, but I would eradicate world hunger. It's beyond absurd that America has the largest number of billionaires (276...compared to the next largest, Japan with 26), that we spend millions and millions on making our cell phones smaller and our iPods more user-friendly...and yet there are children that actually die every day because they can't even get a mouthful of rice. I think it's a global responsibility to ensure that every human being gets their basic human rights. steps off of soap box
Do you like to Dance? Sober?
I love to dance. Especially in public, in situations that do not warrant dancing. Ask my friends. I make them uncomfortable :)
Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Oh oh oh, every girl has this picked out already:I would name my first girl Sophia and my second girl Daisy.
Imagine your first child is a boy, what would you call him?
My first son would be James (J-a-m-e-s. NOT JIM) and my second son would be Ezra. (or Chase if I let Mike name him in a post-epidural haze)
Would you ever consider living abroad?
Absolutely. Mike and I talk about it a lot. There is a very good chance that if Mike requested it, we could live in Australia or Europe for a year. I'm not sure if I'd be let into Australia, I'm known to proliferate very quickly and destroy acres of land in a matter of days. It's a hobby.
What would you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
It's about time you showed up. Have an ice cream sandwich.
I keep seeing this survey/question thing everywhere. I think a new version crops up every 2 weeks. Why do we love these things so much? What an exercise in self-indulgence. Here's mine!
Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18 and find line 4:
I am at work, so I am not near any books. I can however, turn to page 18 in my MESA COLLEGE FALL 2006 CLASS SCHEDULE and it has...well about 50 listings for English classes. How anti-climactic.
Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, what do you find?
A tape dispenser. Is that what it's called? For some reason that doesn't sound right. A tape holding dock?
What is the last thing you watched on TV?
The 11PM Simpsons on Fox. It's pretty sad, but I feel very OFF if I don't watch both the 7PM and 11PM Simpson episodes...every day. (The episode was the one where Homer steals free cable...a classic)
Without looking, guess what time it is.
10:15AM (Isn't if funny that when you are told to do something"without looking", you immediately want to look? I had to hold my eyeballs in place with my index fingers.
Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
10:12AM.
With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The lady in the office next to me. For about 3 weeks I thought there was a man next door until one day when I saw this lady open her mouth and that man voice came out. Seriously, it's freaking weird. She also kind of looks like a guy...a guy that wears green eyeshadow and sweatshirts with iron-on pictures of dogs. I am digressing. Kids, don't smoke!
When did you last step outside?
This morning, while walking Herve. Did I say walking? I meant being DRAGGED by Herve. My upper body strength has deteriorated to the point where my 20lb dog can nearly wrench my shoulder from it's socket.
Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
I was randomly scrolling through blogs and found this "survey", which I have seen on several people's online journals now, including the very funny Ramin. If it weren't for online journaling, I would get work done. That's a very chilling thought.
What are you wearing?
A tub of mayonaise and a smile.
Did you dream last night?
Yes. About a tub of mayonnaise. That's what happens when you eat an entire tub of mayonnaise and then chase it with Peach Schnapps right before bed. It's a little cocktail I like to call, "Disgusting".
When did you last laugh?
This morning while walking Herve. He peed on a fire hydrant. Did he realize how stereotypically DOG he was being??? It just cracked me up! Although, truth be told, I laugh when anyone urinates on curbside objects.
What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Nothing. I am in a lonely, barren little hovel.
Seen anything weird lately?
This morning I thought I found a second head sprouting out of the top of my shoulder. It was actually just a freckle in the shape of my head (if my head was perfectly round and brown). False alarm. Again. Sigh.
What do you think of this quiz?
This is a quiz? Who the hell is grading this thing?! Oh man, I'm totally going to fail Answering Personal Questions 101.
What is the last film you saw?
I was going to say Hotel Rwanda (excellent film) but I just remembered this FREAKY movie I watched on KUSI two Saturdays ago. It was one of those obscure movies from the mid-80's that they always show on affiliate stations in the afternoon. I think it was called The Hotel New Hampshire. It had Jody Foster and Rob Lowe and honest to god revolved heavily around incest, communist pornography and family values. It was like watching my early childhood on film!!
If you turned into a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
I'd buy my parents a new house in woods, my brother Ian a college education, my best friends plane tickets to Europe, Mike a private recording studio, and myself...the entire DVD collection of the Simpson's episodes. Honestly.
If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt and politics, what would you do?
I know it's extremely hackneyed, but I would eradicate world hunger. It's beyond absurd that America has the largest number of billionaires (276...compared to the next largest, Japan with 26), that we spend millions and millions on making our cell phones smaller and our iPods more user-friendly...and yet there are children that actually die every day because they can't even get a mouthful of rice. I think it's a global responsibility to ensure that every human being gets their basic human rights. steps off of soap box
Do you like to Dance? Sober?
I love to dance. Especially in public, in situations that do not warrant dancing. Ask my friends. I make them uncomfortable :)
Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Oh oh oh, every girl has this picked out already:I would name my first girl Sophia and my second girl Daisy.
Imagine your first child is a boy, what would you call him?
My first son would be James (J-a-m-e-s. NOT JIM) and my second son would be Ezra. (or Chase if I let Mike name him in a post-epidural haze)
Would you ever consider living abroad?
Absolutely. Mike and I talk about it a lot. There is a very good chance that if Mike requested it, we could live in Australia or Europe for a year. I'm not sure if I'd be let into Australia, I'm known to proliferate very quickly and destroy acres of land in a matter of days. It's a hobby.
What would you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
It's about time you showed up. Have an ice cream sandwich.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
A Public Service Announcement
Dearest handful of readers,
The following post was inspired by my current workplace. It is a mortgage office that is about 95% female. So, I'm talking a lot about food, and weight, and menstrating, and burritos. I usually try to avoid posts skewed for women, but like my grandma* always says, "You can't fight genetics with a butane torch!" Hahahha, oh grandma*, you crazy old bat.
But I digress. The post is also pretty long, so maybe grab a soft drink or something. I will try to write about a gender-neutral topic tomorrow.
*This grandmother is not my actual grandma. She is a fictional character created to aid a joke. Grandma, if you're reading this...send more peanut butter cookies.
The following post was inspired by my current workplace. It is a mortgage office that is about 95% female. So, I'm talking a lot about food, and weight, and menstrating, and burritos. I usually try to avoid posts skewed for women, but like my grandma* always says, "You can't fight genetics with a butane torch!" Hahahha, oh grandma*, you crazy old bat.
But I digress. The post is also pretty long, so maybe grab a soft drink or something. I will try to write about a gender-neutral topic tomorrow.
*This grandmother is not my actual grandma. She is a fictional character created to aid a joke. Grandma, if you're reading this...send more peanut butter cookies.
my diet tips
You know what I tend to sneak in a lot when writing? Comments about weight. And food. And dieting. I am not overweight. But I do have a freakish relationship with food. And I am a female. Females are obnoxious about their bodies. We loooove to talk about particular body parts and how we need to get in shape and how much we weighed at a certain time. Personally, I enjoy talking about how large my butt was at certain times in my life. Some people measure their lives in milestones and achievements. I measure mine in ass volume. For instance, I remember quite clearly that on May 5th, 2004 my ass pretty big. Oh, and I graduated from college. Pathetic? Ass-o-lutely. Word play! Aren't I cheeky? Pun!! Isn't that fun? Rhyming!! Better stop before I start using anagrams.
Well, anyway. This post is going to be my random musings on weight and stuff. (Are musings ever not random? I have never really had a specific series of musings. Is it muses? Wait, no that's the plural for moose.)
Diet tip #1. How does one "gear up" for a new, intense, sure-to-succeed weight loss plan? Why, by bingeing on all kinds of foods he or she will be "swearing off" for the next 3 weeks, or 3 months or 3 decades. FOOL PROOF, I TELL YOU.
Yeah, I do that often. Well, not often, simply because I tend to go long stretches of time successfully avoiding all cardiovascular activity. If I could get my hands on a Rascal, I'd quickly atrophy into Jabba-the-Girl.
Anyway, on the occasions when I am really serious, however, I do this. Its just so stupid. How many times have I said, "This is the last (cheesecake or burrito or cheeseburger) I am having for THREE MONTHS!" And two weeks later I get my period and I order a cheeseburger burrito with a side of cheesecake. "Oh ok ok, THIS is my last burrito. I swear!!!" Actually, I don't say those words, I usually just emit a series of grunts while rolling around in my dinner.
The problem is, I have these "triggers". Girls know what I'm talking about. It's the food that creates a chemical reaction in your body which causes all your cells to scream in unison, "Eat this food or we will get malignant on your ass!!"
For me, that food is usually cereal. I truly, truly cannot keep a box of cereal in the house for longer than 2 days. The concept of having ONE bowl in the morning for like, seven consecutive days, is completely lost on me. I usually have one bowl every hour, on the hour, until I run out of milk. Sigh. I have also been known to eat my cereal with water. That's a cry for help, right there.
Tortilla chips do that too, or goldfish...or really...anything doesn't have a concrete portion size. Oh sure, the package may say that 7 tortilla chips is a serving...but really...who eats SEVEN INDIVIDUAL CHIPS and then closes up the bag and goes, "Mmm! Satisfying!!"
Oh.
You do? You suck.
So anyway I try to stay away from those. But there are other things too....foods that for some reason, set off this flag in my head that there is a party in my mouth!! and that now that I've eaten this food, well it's game over, man. Game over. How can I be expected to eat "healthy" now!? This body tainting food is usually a giant bean burrito, or a Carl's Jr cheeseburger, or pizza. Sometimes I eat all three at the same time; I roll them up and skewer the whole thing with tent posts.
I often crave these things when I'm stressed or emotionally unstable. I want a cheeseburger. Cheeseburger will make everything better. And fries!! And an oreo shake!! YES! EDIBLE LOVE!!!
This is the part of the post where the boys go to the gym and play kickball while the girls have a "chat".
I try to avoid talking about my period in the blog or... in any situation, ever. It's not even about being lady-like or not grossing out boys. It's just 'cause...well, ew. But anyway, I have to say lately my period (I'm going to start calling it " my era" or "my epoch". Much more poetic) has caused me to eat in a very bizarre manner.
For most of my life the idea of PMS was foreign to me. I didn't get moody, didn't get cravings...at most I got some vague lower back crampiness. I used to roll my eyes at girls that were bitchy and wanted chocolate..."They're being so ridiculous," I'd think, "they're just blowing this whole PMS thing out of proportion." Weellll, I guess menstrual karma has caught up to me because for the past year or two I transform into this snappy, whiney, lethargic, binge-eating freakshow whenever the miracle of womanhood descends upon my life. I'll be in an absolutely rotten mood for no reason. I'll want to eat soft pretzels, and nothing but soft pretzels, for 72 hours straight. Walmart commercials make me cry. It's hell. (And you experienced PMS-ers can laugh or roll your eyes at me. I deserve it.)
Diet Tip #2. Good intentions burn calories! Guilt burns even more!!!
I always come out of the "healthy" starting block sprinting! I love making anal little lists and I have a whole complex "plan" in my head about how I'm going to eat and when I'm going to exercise.
I'll eat stuff like yogurt and oatmeal and baby carrots. I'll do 90 minutes of cardio. I will feel empowered! And then the next day, I am sore and bitchy and eating an oreo and cookie dough blizzard.
yeah.
That's pretty much how I roll.
I'm kind of like an abusive lover when it comes to my body. At first I'm all like, "Come on baby, I'll do a good job this time. I'll eat this salad and you know I'll get to the gym. I'm going to do it right this time, I swear."
And inevitably two days later my body goes, "Fuck this! Get me a burrito, woman!! Don't you DARE talk to me about cardio, or I swear to god, I will shove this cheesecake bar so far into your mouth, you be forced to chew and swallow it. And maybe unwrap another. Do you WANT that??? DO YOU?"
Phew, all this typing is kind of getting my heart rate up. I better stop. Don't want to get a cramp. Don't worry, I'll be back with more of my tips. Until then, take care. And let me know if you're going to Chipotle.
Well, anyway. This post is going to be my random musings on weight and stuff. (Are musings ever not random? I have never really had a specific series of musings. Is it muses? Wait, no that's the plural for moose.)
Diet tip #1. How does one "gear up" for a new, intense, sure-to-succeed weight loss plan? Why, by bingeing on all kinds of foods he or she will be "swearing off" for the next 3 weeks, or 3 months or 3 decades. FOOL PROOF, I TELL YOU.
Yeah, I do that often. Well, not often, simply because I tend to go long stretches of time successfully avoiding all cardiovascular activity. If I could get my hands on a Rascal, I'd quickly atrophy into Jabba-the-Girl.
Anyway, on the occasions when I am really serious, however, I do this. Its just so stupid. How many times have I said, "This is the last (cheesecake or burrito or cheeseburger) I am having for THREE MONTHS!" And two weeks later I get my period and I order a cheeseburger burrito with a side of cheesecake. "Oh ok ok, THIS is my last burrito. I swear!!!" Actually, I don't say those words, I usually just emit a series of grunts while rolling around in my dinner.
The problem is, I have these "triggers". Girls know what I'm talking about. It's the food that creates a chemical reaction in your body which causes all your cells to scream in unison, "Eat this food or we will get malignant on your ass!!"
For me, that food is usually cereal. I truly, truly cannot keep a box of cereal in the house for longer than 2 days. The concept of having ONE bowl in the morning for like, seven consecutive days, is completely lost on me. I usually have one bowl every hour, on the hour, until I run out of milk. Sigh. I have also been known to eat my cereal with water. That's a cry for help, right there.
Tortilla chips do that too, or goldfish...or really...anything doesn't have a concrete portion size. Oh sure, the package may say that 7 tortilla chips is a serving...but really...who eats SEVEN INDIVIDUAL CHIPS and then closes up the bag and goes, "Mmm! Satisfying!!"
Oh.
You do? You suck.
So anyway I try to stay away from those. But there are other things too....foods that for some reason, set off this flag in my head that there is a party in my mouth!! and that now that I've eaten this food, well it's game over, man. Game over. How can I be expected to eat "healthy" now!? This body tainting food is usually a giant bean burrito, or a Carl's Jr cheeseburger, or pizza. Sometimes I eat all three at the same time; I roll them up and skewer the whole thing with tent posts.
I often crave these things when I'm stressed or emotionally unstable. I want a cheeseburger. Cheeseburger will make everything better. And fries!! And an oreo shake!! YES! EDIBLE LOVE!!!
This is the part of the post where the boys go to the gym and play kickball while the girls have a "chat".
I try to avoid talking about my period in the blog or... in any situation, ever. It's not even about being lady-like or not grossing out boys. It's just 'cause...well, ew. But anyway, I have to say lately my period (I'm going to start calling it " my era" or "my epoch". Much more poetic) has caused me to eat in a very bizarre manner.
For most of my life the idea of PMS was foreign to me. I didn't get moody, didn't get cravings...at most I got some vague lower back crampiness. I used to roll my eyes at girls that were bitchy and wanted chocolate..."They're being so ridiculous," I'd think, "they're just blowing this whole PMS thing out of proportion." Weellll, I guess menstrual karma has caught up to me because for the past year or two I transform into this snappy, whiney, lethargic, binge-eating freakshow whenever the miracle of womanhood descends upon my life. I'll be in an absolutely rotten mood for no reason. I'll want to eat soft pretzels, and nothing but soft pretzels, for 72 hours straight. Walmart commercials make me cry. It's hell. (And you experienced PMS-ers can laugh or roll your eyes at me. I deserve it.)
Diet Tip #2. Good intentions burn calories! Guilt burns even more!!!
I always come out of the "healthy" starting block sprinting! I love making anal little lists and I have a whole complex "plan" in my head about how I'm going to eat and when I'm going to exercise.
I'll eat stuff like yogurt and oatmeal and baby carrots. I'll do 90 minutes of cardio. I will feel empowered! And then the next day, I am sore and bitchy and eating an oreo and cookie dough blizzard.
yeah.
That's pretty much how I roll.
I'm kind of like an abusive lover when it comes to my body. At first I'm all like, "Come on baby, I'll do a good job this time. I'll eat this salad and you know I'll get to the gym. I'm going to do it right this time, I swear."
And inevitably two days later my body goes, "Fuck this! Get me a burrito, woman!! Don't you DARE talk to me about cardio, or I swear to god, I will shove this cheesecake bar so far into your mouth, you be forced to chew and swallow it. And maybe unwrap another. Do you WANT that??? DO YOU?"
Phew, all this typing is kind of getting my heart rate up. I better stop. Don't want to get a cramp. Don't worry, I'll be back with more of my tips. Until then, take care. And let me know if you're going to Chipotle.
