Wednesday, November 30, 2005

In which I personify Insomnia. Only to Hate on her.

As my insomnia-suffering former roommate will attest, I am a disgustingly-consistent good sleeper. I would feel so bad about my well-restedness in the morning when M-lo would tell me that she barely slept at all. Now, mind you, she was much better organized and motivated than I, so I would be the one pulling all-nighters while she at least got a SHOT at sleeping. Sadly, if she couldn't really sleep, what good did it do her?

The evening started out promising. After getting dinner, K and I hit up Home Depot for more paint chips and decor conversation. Then we went to Panera and MAN, again, HOUSE LATTES RULE! We read a while, but I kept getting distracted by options for the house - creating combinations in my head, noticing colors around me like I was on drugs, seriously, COULD NOT STOP. We finally got out of there and headed home where I proceeded to weasel some help from K on a friend's template redesign (I'll post a link once it's final). He is a total babe for helping me. Finally, after working on that for a while alone and then getting ready for bed, it was time to hit the hay.

Oh hello, Insomnia! Um, what're you, what're you doing here? You're what now? Planning on keeping me up until 4am? Wow, you're kidding? Don't. Please? I don't get a choice on this, do I? Fine. FINE!

I couldn't get comfortable and when I was (momentarily) comfortable, five shades of neutral browns floated by my eyes and made it impossible for me to focus on SLEEP. Then it was WHY IS INTERNET EXPLORER SO STUPID AND MAKING THAT BORDER ON MY BANNER AND PHOTO TOTALLY OUT OF PLACE? RRRRR. Caffeine only has power over me when I have a lot going on, but boy is it powerful then!

M-lo, my love, I hope this vengeance is sweet.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

How I Plan To Make My Millions

Or The Capricious Person's Solution To Home Decor.

So we did talk last night about plans for our new home. I mused intensely over the paint chips and the altogether-too-tiny images offered by Baer's home paint pamplets. "Does this tan color have to much yellow for me? Is this color going to tie the cocoa brown with the eggplant purple or are they going to end up duking it out in some paint-named-after-food fight? What in the world am I thinking painting the office, the room in which I will spend the most consecutive conscious time of my week, blue - I HATE BLUE! RRRR, why did I have to get married so I could have the double incomes to afford buying a house now but not the concensus on hatred of blue to be comfortable in it?"

Right now many home decorating escapades require the following: clumsily moving furniture entirely out of the room, laying down tarps, using enough tape to hold up a million starlet's skimpy gowns, strewing strong-smelling, brightly-colored liquids all over everything, hoping they land in a uniform coat, and most of all hoping that when that brightly-colored liquid dries, you won't puke at the very sight of its hue or WORSE, decide you have to cover it up with another color next weekend.

My plan is much simpler: create a holographic wall material that projects a color, easily changable from week to week, month to month, or for the more staid among us, year to year. At the rate my ideas are changing, mine will be on a daily rotation.

Monday, November 28, 2005

And now for something completely unclever

I was all excited to type out the title of this post because I thought I could use that famous Monty Python line "And now for something completely different." Then I realized I had already used it months ago. I was crushed. It's really pathetic that it crushed me, but seriously, wind out of my sales. *sniff*

ANYWAY, I hope you all had as nice a Thanksgiving holiday as K and I did! I made candied yams (with bourbon - soo gooooood) and salad and we headed over to a friend's house for a big potluck of a Thanksgiving dinner. Everything turned out delicious and we had some good conversations. Later that night K was obsessed with the Black Friday sales. Obsessed! He found out CompUSA was opening at midnight and he just had to go to watch all the "human drama." I AM QUOTING THERE. We trotted out after midnight so we wouldn't have to wait outside in the cold with all the other crazies. There were plenty left there when we finally got there. We went straight back to the electronics counter where K bought something and I decided to go ahead and spring for the Palm Z22 which I'd been eyeing. A guy helped us right away and then checked us out there, thereby ensuring that we bypassed HUGE lines and got everything we wanted. NOT your average Black Friday experience, I'd wager.

After sleeping in Friday morning I lazed about and thoroughly enjoyed my day off, all the more since K had to work. Because I'm a big ole meany. What? I really needed the vacation! Saturday we cleaned and were slightly productive, and later that evening his grandparents took us out to dinner and wanted to drive by the new house. We talked quite a bit with them and they totally fell in love with Percy, but what else is new? Sunday morning we did church (yay for the first Sunday in Advent!) and then got a movie. We watched In Good Company which came out last year with Dennis Quaid, Scarlett Johansson, Topher Grace, and Marg Helgenberger. K didn't much like the movie, I kinda did, but I wasn't floored. We loved the repeated use of Iron and Wine on the soundtrack. We liked the casting, especially of Marg Helgenberger who did a great job, as usual - I really enjoy her. (I forgive her punning CSI lines, that's how much I enjoy her!) The movie had heart, and some decent twists in the plot, but it didn't quite work. K felt like it was more a Lifetime movie than an A-list one, I guess I wouldn't pan it THAT fully, but meh, not the best. Although it did bring up an enduring question: HOW IN THE WORLD DOES SCARLETT JOHANSSON PULL OFF ALMOST FLUORESCENT SHADES OF CORAL LIPSTICK AND STILL LOOK HOT? These are the things that keep me up at night.

Today, it's paint decision time. Once we close we only have two weeks in which to paint the bulk of house before it's time to move in, so we are gonna get some stuff in preparation and then at least have general ideas for the rest so we can buy and paint on schedule. Oh, and leave the cat at the apartment. She'd probably end up with a white stripe down her back and Pepe Le Pew on her tail with our luck.


Don't mind me just sniffing the flowers and occasionally biting them. I'm just making sure they don't get any ideas about moving in permanently. You're, uh, not thinking of getting any plants, are you? ARE YOU?

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

TLL and You

So CharlesPierce saved my bum by giving me a great topic for today's post in a recent comment. Here's the meat of it:

I'm intrigued by your notion of, as you put it: "There's just too much happening and my thought life hasn't caught up enough to write about it."

I know you're alluding to the deeper transition to adulthood that you've entertainingly been blogging about, as well as the fact that you've been so busy--but is there anything else you mean? I'd love to have a discussion about (1) how our thought lives can't catch up with our lives, (2) why this is bad, and (3) what we should do about it, because I'm interesting in hearing what other people have to say.


He's even given me an outline - IT DOES NOT GET ANY BETTER, FOLKS. Run out and meet some people as cool as him because they will save your blog. Also, they sometimes say nice things about you being entertaining. Everyone needs an ego boost. Speaking of ego, let's psychoanalyze mine, shall we?

Introduction: Think back to your first few days of college. If you're like me, you lived away from home, you dropped your stuff in a tiny room inhabited by a couple of strangers, you picked up new gadgets like a laptop, and you learned where to wander on campus if you wanted to find a book, some food, or friends. You might have had a couple of flashes of "DUDE! I'M IN COLLEGE!" But mostly, you just tried to be where you said you'd be and not flunk your first quizzes. You made a shift in your identity, but you didn't have time/energy to realize that because "HELLO, DR. K IS TOTALLY GONNA FLUNK ME IF I DON'T UNDERSTAND MOLECULAR ORBITAL THEORY!"

Body Point I: When I'm living through a change, I can't focus on thinking it through. I dive in to the immediate, measurable tasks, like learning to organize my bills and pay them on time or learning how to bring up a sensitive/annoying subject with my husband. Once I have the basics down, I have the time to think about what it means to be a wife or a graphic designer. Some things I have a natural affinity for, such as learning in a collegiate setting, but that doesn't mean I understand this affinity or what it says about myself and the kind of life I want to lead. Changes in identity have always been accompanied by the gathering of mental bearings for me. If I pass the initial phase, the one I like to call "Sink or Swim, Sucka!", my mind naturally begins to ask questions: Do I like my new life? Where am I getting my satisfaction from? Am I well suited to my responsibilities? How long would I like to be doing this? What can I do to improve my life? Maybe it's part of being a perfectionist, but I think understanding those things is a semi-constant subtext to my life. Frankly, I don't know what it's like or if it's even possible to NOT ask those questions.

Now if you're not like me, you're thinking "WOW, REMIND ME NEVER TO TALK TO MS. OVERANALYSIS AGAIN!" Nonetheless, O Skeptic, I have a feeling we all do this. Some of us take longer than others. My husband seems to do it before a big event. I've tried that, but I find myself stymied by a lack of information, so I just wait until I'm living it. Some people just coast for years and examine their choices later in life. Think of Henrik Ibsen's A Doll's House. The wife in the play wakes up years after her shift to being a wife and a mother and wonders if she's really happy, if she's really suited to her life, if it's possible she made a bad choice. Ibsen challenged the perspective of his day that said all women were suited to being wives and mothers and pretty much nothing else. He goes on to point out that everyone, men and women alike, should be allowed that experience of identifying what life should be about, preferably early in life. I agree with his points generally.

Body Point II: CP asks why this is bad. In many ways, I look on this as a good thing. Eventually I like to have a perspective on myself, my abilities, and my circumstances that yields a sort of modus operandi for life, but when I first begin any endeavor, attempting to think everything through to the nth degree paralyzes me when I should be learning, acting, participating. I will liken it to swimming in Cape Cod or Lake Superior: if you feel how cold the water is, you won't swim, but if you just dive in, you'll find the resources necessary to move around and enjoy yourself before hypothermia sets in. (Heh.) The reason I mentioned it as a bad thing in my post was that it prevented me from having much to say here. Writing honestly about life means understanding it at least a bit, and I can't write "the post about trying to understand life," a million times. (Please, don't actually look up the number of times I've written a post like that. I shudder to think.)

Dragging Socrates into this, (you forgot about the "filosofí­a," huh?), whether the unexamined life is not worth living is still a question to me. It isn't as simple as it sounds. But whether from upbringing or natural affinity, I do feel as though I now gravitate to meaning in my life - I want it to make sense and be purposeful. In this, my Thought-Life Lag (TLL) is a good tool. It enables me to begin a new chapter in life with action and then to improve on what I've begun once I have the opportunity to mentally digest the changes.

Body Point III: What should we do about this? I'm not sure there is much to be done. This happens to be a coping mechanism for me. It didn't work so well when I jammed my life with so much change that all the processing backed up recently. I had so much to process at once that there were few bearings left. Still, in other cases it's been quite handy. I guess the trick is to avoid too much change at once if you suffer from TLL, or at least to get help with thinking it through, whether it be from trusted family and friends or therapist.

Conclusion: Bear in mind here that I do not have a doctorate in psychology (or a bachelors for that matter), and I understand my experiences may be totally different than yours in this area. I have formed these opinions from thinking, reading, talking to friends, and very short stints in therapy. Now, your thoughts, you remaining warriors who hacked through my dense verbage with the machete of your great rational powers? How do you deal with change?

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

What is this "contentment" of which you speak?

Yesterday I had to go measure the space for the refrigerator in the new house because we might have some family donate one for us (HALLELUJAH). It definitely felt more "mine" than ever. Of course I've begun the process of remaking the home in my mind - colors and furniture arrangements, improvements and eventual remodeling. The thought of change is making it hard to keep things the same in other areas. I mean, when you're standing in the grocery store aisle thinking about trying new brands of dressing just because? Problems.

Change is addictive once you get started. Changing my hair color made me happy; maybe it's time to change the cut? Length? Go for bald? [Enter "Danger," stage right] With the onslaught of the holidays and the work projects piling up and the move - it's just a lot to NOT think about. There's so much potential for good change, but it's definitely possible to go off the deep end.

Living in a "makeover" society doesn't help. In true American form, we don't change one thing, WE DO IT ALL, BABY! Every room is redone, every outward facet of our appearance is "improved" and pretty soon, our life is so different that they really did change the entire thing as they promised. I remember being taught in science classes to only change one variable at a time (for the most part) in order to understand the impact of each change. Does that mean we should all scientifically experiment with our lives all the time? Or is it just that it's "experts" making 20 changes at one to What Not to Wear participants, so that's why all those changes work? And how do I get me some of that vast expenditure on makeover shows, hmmm?

Where does contentment fit into all this? That's not a word you hear a lot in American culture, I don't think. I guess because of the ubiquity of the marketing machine, it's hard to get a moment of media in which we aren't exhorted to want better household cleaning tools, faster internet service, or more volumizing hair products. Not helping matters is that, at least on a smaller scale, I like change. I'm always looking for something new for dinner, for my skin regimen, heck, for my desktop background! My dad used to say that he could eat a good ham and cheese sandwich every day for the rest of his life and be perfectly content. I won't let myself order the same thing twice at the Cheesecake Factory because the grass is always greener on the other side of the menu.

This makes me contentment challenged, but probably no more than any of us. We live in a world with high humidity - do you think we'll ever stop working toward that product that makes our hair have volume but not frizz? If you answered yes you don't know a)women, b)the beauty industry, c)humanity, and d)jack. It's gotten us this far, developing lightweight fabrics that insulate in the Himalayas, better graphics for our movies, and the internet, through which you read all this drivel every day. It's not all bad. I just wish I understood where the line is between contentment and that perfect pomade.


If contentment is anything like this, then maybe I should look into it.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Remember me? I used to blog occasionally.

I keep starting this post in my head, saying dumb things and then promising myself I'll do it later. I've had some really great moments since I last sat down and wrote about stuff that happens to me, but I can't get it out. It looks kinda like this:


Clearly, translation is not an exact science.

I took that today after hanging out with CharlesPierce and his lovely wifey at the International Spy Museum. Although K and I were tired once they had to go, we decided to keep wandering around Chinatown. I got an eggnog latte - mmmmm - and we got to chat about the upcoming holidays.

Back to the picture: I imbued it with unwarranted meaning (one of my talents) when I had the thought: "This is like my life. Sorta." There's just too much happening and my thought life hasn't caught up enough to write about it. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the stuff coming down the pike, but that doesn't mean I understand how my life will change once I've embraced them. Adults keep feeding me schpiels about "jumping in with both feet" and "sink or swim." It just reminds me of my Fitwell swim test in college. I'M JUST SAYING . . .

Anyhow, we had fun with our peeps. They mentioned that the last time we'd seen them was July. WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED AT HOW MUCH WE SUCK? Still, if they still love us after that, I guess we can forgive ourselves. Shout-out, guys, we love ya!

Other things . . . well, I made cryptic mention of goings-on in Indiana. Maybe I should follow up on that whole storyline, no? K and I showed up in the Indianapolis International Airport a week ago Friday, and Jefe picked us up. (FYI, there's a new naming convention here at Fyfdom, and it goes like this: female boss is "BossLady" and male boss is "Jefe." Because we like Spanish terms - they make us sound like a Smarty McBrainypants. Yee. Haw.) We didn't so much "accomplish anything" that night because we got in late and we didn't have to. Then Saturday dawned and we didn't. We slept in, had a leisurely breakfast and met up with some coworkers for GO-CART RACING. Now Jefe asked us ahead of time if "speed and danger" were okay, and we said yes. I forgot this meant competitive sports where I don't stand a chance of winning because my mantra is not so much "ball before body" as "self-preservation before sacrifice. Oh, and sweat. I don't like to sweat. Ewwy."

I lost BIG TIME. The go-carts went up to 40 mph and we did like 5 races to determine final racing order and then we did a grand prix and Jefe won and got to take a victory lap and we all had to help him yank his helmet off his overgrown head. (Oh, he's reading this so everyone smile winningly in his direction and think NON-FIRING thoughts!) I, on the other hand, stood in for the role of "Textbook Perfectionist." Despite some vicious corners in the track, I took them like a pro - except a wee bit slower making me NOT a total loser, but still last. HEY, I MADE IT LOOK GOOD, PEOPLE. OKAY, there is so much wounded pride spewed over the last two paragraphs, and if you're still reading this you are a SADIST.

So go-carting was not my thing, but everyone had a good time, so it was worth it. I got some good pics, too, which are coming. Sometime. Maybe. After that we hit up a local comedy club in Broadripple and laughed our ever-loving abs off. I can't remember the name of the lead comic that night, but funny, funny guy. Also, that was the site of the "Knee Pad" exposure - that is, I tried this drink by that name (containing vodka, peach schnapps, cranberry and orange juices). Not that I exposed myself at all. Ahem . . . ONWARD! So the next day was the day of the Colts because they triumphed. Yay! And I just read that they triumphed again earlier today - boy, it's a great year for Hoosiers football. Also, Baltimore is probably SERIOUSLY UNHAPPY they gave up that team and sent it to the Midwest because Ravens? Not so much. In other news, my coworker Bee just passed out because even if she failed to make me a "raving football fan" before I left Indy, she at least succeeded in helping me keep up. Pat yourself on the back, Bee. Once you regain consciousness. Take your time.

Wow, that there? Half the trip. Brace yourself, this is an old-fashioned, long-winded, nonsense-making E.A.P special!

Hubster had to go home that night so he could, you know, WORK the next day. I hung out with Bee and her beau until late. I set the alarm wrong for the next morning, so I awakened and got ready to go in like 15 minutes and then Bee and I decided working through breakfast at Panera was just the sort of elixir our Monday needed. We are at a crossroads in a lot of different areas of work, so it seemed hard to find resolution ANYWHERE. Still, later that day, it didn't matter because BossLady unleashed Photo Scavenger Hunt 2005 and IT WAS ON. Not improving our business, but WINNING THE COMPETITION. And we totally did. We got a policemen to handcuff one of us inside his vehicle (which we later found out might be illegal - so no pics online, peeps - heh!) and we spotted and then chased down the only Harley driver still out on his hog in November and then had one of us climb onto the back for a pic. We might have snuck into someone's backyard to jump on their trampoline. MIGHT. Anyway, big fun, small legal issues, GOOD TIMES.

Aside from office bonding, we did lots of real work over those three days, too, and I think that, though I have my work cut out for me in terms of projects and deadlines, I will survive. Also, will finish all my projects. Probably. We're working on the optimism.

And that's all. I returned to take my life of yowling, adorable Percy and eccentric, handsome Hubster, and regular work, and showing up for choir. It's good to be back, but with the holidays, housing changes, and so much else coming up, it's hard to get it all down on screen. Never feear! I'm not deterred by my utter failures to do so in the past. I'll keep right on blogging. Occasionally.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Why have I not posted? You'll be so sorry you asked!

After a fun weekend involving go-carts, comedy clubs, Colts victories, too much food, a yummy drink by the name of "Knee Pad," a farewell to K on Sunday followed by meeting after grueling meeting Monday through Wednesday, it was time to go home last night. Except that The Weather was all "Where, [pray tell, do you think you're going?" (the weather's personification is equally annoying as its manifestation) and so there were delays in Philly and delays out of Philly and TA-DA, it's 3 am and I'm just arriving home. Welcome to my Thursday.

FINE, OKAY, much fun was had. There was petitioning of strangers to let us give them a piggyback ride whilst posing for Photo Scavenger Hunt 2005. There might have been working lunches in which actual work was accomplished. I got lots of hugs. The food was, as always, delicious, although - NO JOKE - I gained two pounds over those four days. MUST STOP DOING THIS! No wonder I haven't made the numbers budge much on the scale - I keep trotting out there and stuffing my face. Rrrrrrrrrr. And I hate to complain, whine, and WAAAAAH the entire post but HELLO, I ARRIVED HOME LAST NIGHT AND IT WAS THIS MORNING. FOR MOST OF LAST NIGHT I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO OVERNIGHT IN PHILLY. AND THEN THERE WAS THE LACK OF iPOD! I had to be all nice and sweet and give it to my husband so he could have it for his workouts. He insisted I keep it for the return flights, but I wanted him to have it. Stupid. That's it, we're scraping together the fundage and becoming a BONAFIDE DUAL iPOD FAMILY. End of discussion.

I'll write more highlights later, perhaps when my mood is less PERTURBATION CENTRAL. Anyone I saw whilst there - I had a blast. Thank you so much. I'm probably sweating a little under the strain of expressing it. Oh wait, that's residual from the new FIFTY-FREAKING-MINUTE YOGA TAPE OF DOOM I just tried out today. Still, I have much love for you wonderful Hoosiers. And for you, Hubster, because you bought me flowers and they're just the right shades of burgandy, gold and peach to make the reality of home as lovely as the memory of it was to my nearly-stranded self.

Friday, November 11, 2005

A PLAGUE ON ALL MY PACKING!

SO, yeah. I'm supposed to be walking about the door, hopping lightly in my car, speeding off with a full trunk to the airport and Indiana this weekend in a couple of hours.

I AM NOT PACKED.

I came up with a hare-brained scheme to pack up my stuff and hem a pair of pants (THE HECK?) and tidy the house and play with the cat. It's T minus 2 hours, 25 minutes and counting before liftoff from Casa Erica and the best I can say is that my suitcase is out of the closet and open to receive the final selections I have yet to make, the hair products I have yet to choose, and the airport entertainment options have not been finalized nor stowed in my new, shiny tote bag (free gifts with purchases ROCK, but do not help me pack).

So I'm gonna stop blogging and flee for my life. AHEM, PACK for me life. I'll blog while I'm out, though. Because I'm obsessed like that. Also, NO PACKING WHILE I'M GONE - SIGN ME UP!

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Listing Wednesday

1. I am so TIRED. I've been waking up in the mornings for work and just wanting to curl right back up again. It doesn't help that since Daylight Savings time began/ended/whatever, the office starts work an hour earlier and I'm trying not to fall off the Identical Schedules bandwagon. Now, they'll give me the schpiel about how they don't do DST in Indiana, so WE'RE the ones that changed, but that's like saying . . . I'm so tired I can't even think of something, so the point: SHUT UP! I keep hearing them say the state is gonna start doing that soon, but when they do, it'll be 8am-4pm every day and THAT DAY will end me.

2. People from work keep having me do these little projects for them and I AM SO TIRED so they feel like this huge burden. It totally feels like getting to your hardest class of the day in college, having stayed up the night before, and then having one of those rapid-fire-I'm-catching-up-with-my-syllabus lectures. Your BRAIN starts sort of twitching (kinda like my legs during yoga today, which TIRED) and it just HURTS to THINK. Man, that sucks. What feels worse is that these projects are pretty easy. Which makes me a cry-baby.

3. K and I are out of town this weekend, flying to my company HQ and staying with my bosses/friends. I'm staying on for business meetings and over-long lunches for half of next week. I have to pack. I am so over this jet-set life. And I haven't even started the conference travel that should wipe out like two months of weekends. SO. NOT. GOOD.

4. Read this article. Growing up in wannabe-cool Detroit suburbs, everybody had to spend their crapload of money on the prom. I happened to attend a tiny private school where most parents wouldn't allow their children to sway to the beat because "that's what'll get your innocent girl deflowered - it's just one small step from the slow dance to the SLOW JAM!" So we got an Etiquette Dinner. STUPID REPLACEMENT, but nice excuse to attend a play, have a nice dinner out, and make the decorative clams on our plates sing. Still, those weren't cheap either. Anyway, it's often intrigued me that parents shell out so much dinero, but I never thought about the ideals of those parents when they were that age. An interesting look at a silly excuse for coming-of-age drama.

5. And just writing that tuckered me right out. Y'all have a great night because I? Am going to finish work and then zonk.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Crazy, Deconstructed

So perhaps it's the few extra moments I waited until taking my late lunch and the resulting plummet in blood sugar levels, but I am feeling loo-ooo-pay (three syllables). In honor of the show we heart/hype so much, I made a fancy, shmancy dinner. It had nothing to do with the fact that I had to carve up and freeze that flank steak before it rotted. Anyway, Hubster and I got a little crazy and took pictures of the cat and my cooking and then, unfortunately, of me. Those of you who are just here for the pictures are in trouble. heh. But first, the undisputed queen of the house:


Cute, Deconstructed

Next, the undisputed gastronome of the house, cooking messily:


Cook, Deconstructed

And the image credits go to the undisputed babe of the house, K, who ROCKS. Now if only I could keep a straight face when he tries to take my picture in his "Photographer Encouraging Subject" mode, maybe I could be the babe of the house, too.

Nah, he's much cuter. And by that I mean "more rugged." Of course. Would I be the kind of girl who says embarrassing things about her husband's cuteness in public? No, I would never do that.

Monday, November 07, 2005

"Has anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?"

It's Monday, but who cares because we get TWO WHOLE EPISODES OF ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT starting at 8pm on FOX. After weeks of baseball and then last week's ultimate cruelty in airing bad Halloween fare in that time slot, I am so happy I could seriously consider weeping. Man, I LOVE today!

Michael: What do you think of when you hear the word Sudden Valley?
George Michael: Salad dressing, I think. But for some reason, I don't want to eat it.
Michael: Right. But Paradise Gardens . . .
George Michael: Yeah. Okay, I can . . . I can see marinating a chicken in that.

Friday, November 04, 2005

This Post is Rated PG-13

Translation: Pathetically Girly for people with fewer than 13 current fashion trends on their minds right this second.

Yesterday I got fed up. I was reading way too much Wednesday Advice Smackdown archives, and I decided to overhaul NOW. For those of you unfamiliar with Amalah, she's a DC-area blogger who is hilarious, profane, fashion-makeup-hair-oriented, and I hope I run into her in DC and she will not think me a dork. Anyway, she started an advice column which was supposed to be fake and then it turned real and then everyone dubbed her a Hair Guru and even I am thinking about sending her a question about my stupid, stupid scalp.

She recommended this soap and toner by Burt's Bees for oily and "troubled skin" (love those euphemisms!), so I looked up the nearest retail outlet and wanted to GO GO NOW. But I had to work, so I did, but then I read more as soon as work was done. And then my husband came home late, and I was too busy reading Smackdowns to notice, so I missed the Thursday dinner-cooking window. This marks the first time I have been saved by frozen pizza - usually we eat it intentionally because we are NUTRITIONAL NE'ER-DO-WELLS. Then it was time for choir. Boohoo, no shopping yet! I sat through most of choir, but then they got to the part where they practiced lots of pieces for Christmas Eve, and I already knew I was going to miss it and "Can I go now?" YES! SHOPPING! WEEE!

I zipped to BeautyFirst because that place is like CRACK for me and I needed a hit REAL BAD. Plus, they had Burt's Bees Garden Tomato Complexion Soap and Toner, and if Amalah says it'll work, then why shouldn't I give it a whirl? FYI, I used it last night and it smells like good Italian cooking. Perhaps instead of consulting her about my scalp I should write in two weeks about my constant cravings and the 50lbs of weight I gained.

After dropping only $18 for that stuff, I zipped over to Target. I had to return some stuff and buy some plain, brown dye because I was in Severe Highlight Burnout after one entire year (almost to the day) of doing it. Vogue or somebody said single-color hair is all over celebrity heads, and I will totally jump on trends that are easier than other trends like annoying, time-consuming highlights, even though I still love highlights deep down. Whatever, VIVE LE SINGLE-PROCESS! And then I came home and dyed my head and I love it.

So that was my night of frivolous frivolity. I hope I do not regret getting the Burt's Bees stuff. I hope it's the answer to my "troubled skin" woes. I have tried nice skincare products (I'm looking at you, Mom and MK) and cheap products (stupid Knock-off Medical Acne-Free because you gave me chemical burns!) and I am not willing to shell out for a dermatologist yet. I have pretty hair and a good husband and yummy food (tortellini tonight - AND SO IT BEGINS!) and I just want to set aside this madness for some contentment. You know, after I get what I want.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Still got all my ribs, thanks for asking!

So my cat (who, as you all know, has the nickname of "Pooper") tends to walk all over everything like she owns it, as any self-respecting pet would do. Anyway, she walks across my husband's keyboard and wakes up his system. I glance at the screen while shooing her off of it before it freezes from the endless, ceaseless typing of a single letter. A browser window was open and she managed to hit "Control" and then "F." What did she then type? "poooooooooooo"

My cat is searching for poo. Ahahahahahaha!

In other news, K and I had a productive visit to IKEA. I guess every Monday through Friday if you spend $10 or more at their café, you can get a coupon for $10 off any purchase you make that day of $100 or more. Well, we were planning to browse, speculate, and plot, but not to purchase, so we were all "let's file this in the Useful Information Bin and roll our chicken-marsala-filled bodies out of here, yo." We did just that, and we wandered and wondered and had a jolly time of spending our money eight different ways without spending our money at all. After having traversed the entire store, we wandered into the "As Is" section with our bag then containing some red glass tea-light holders ($0.50 each - festive, pretty, YAY!) and a brush for the new cast-iron pan.

There it stood, amongst the dressers. The Magiker dining room sideboard in the cherry finish with white drawers but cherry doors which is totally matchy-matchy with our TV stand. But it's in As Is Land, so what's wrong with it? K at this point is wandering the Poäng chairs looking for an only-slightly scratched one in a tasteful color for the "Basement Hang Out" about which he is currently LOSING SLEEP AND UNABLE TO FOCUS ON ME, MY IDEAS!. I leave him to his fruitless search and scrutinize the sideboard at length. Hmmm, two tiny scratches on the 1/8" inset of the doors, and one more on the other side. I can't even see those scratches except when I squint. I would probably put those scratches in myself while assembling a perfect new one. Maybe . . . "K!!! COME HERE!"

K arrives and inspects the price-tag. Yes, originally $199, now $159 is not a super-fantastic mark-down, but for those scratches? Were they supposed to slash the piece up some more or just leave it at a reasonable exchange for the (nearly) perfect unit? Hey, we've got that coupon, too, so now it's only $149. Sweeeet.

But we're dorks and shrewd shoppers and we do not part with our money easily. (Except when Erica's in Victoria's Secret because PEOPLE, YOU DO NOT MESS WITH BRA SHOPPING AND YOU DO NOT CHEAP OUT . . . where was I? Right, hemming and hawing.) Instead, we pondered, asked each other what he/she was thinking about 80 times, inspected it again in case microscopic gnomes had altered it in the past five minutes while we were staring at it intently. And we finally realized several things: 1) Quick decisions are not our strong suits, 2) Our living and dining rooms will be more like living/dining room because there is NO disinction between them and matching our sideboard to our entertainment center is probably smart, 3)It was already assembled and getting it home was going to be FUN without the actual fun.

So we plunked down our cash, then spent 15 minutes moving it into our car, then spent 20 minutes driving it home while I was hunched over my seat WITH MY SEAT BELT FASTENED, you know, 'cause I really want to be safe while I drive even though I'd probably just lose all my ribs when we hit something in that position. I thought of that because a mid-size truck towing a bigger truck with tons of crap in it decided to BRAKE ALMOST TO A HALT on 95. aolijhwgoujbaeryoui.

Drama aside, we made it home and now have a ridiculously long sideboard which will store all my china and napkins and be oh so pretty, pretty in our new house but which currently resides in the deity-forsaken section of our living room and just looks forlorn while the cat walks all over it.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Nostalgic for nomadic inhabitants of the tundra.

I don't seem to have much that's interesting to say. I spent my lunch hour catching up with lovely, funny, adorable RC, so I'm mostly just wistful right about now. Talking to her makes me miss my hometown more than usual. I just want to meet up with her and EN in Birmingham for coffee at the 'Bou and a dessert and lots of snarking and laughing.

In less nostalgic news, K and I will be hitting up IKEA for dessert (moi a sweettooth? guilty as charged!) and SOOTHING OF THE NESTING INSTINCT, FOR THE LOVE. I will probably be in a brushed-metal-and-birch-wood coma tomorrow. This is not likely to break my streak of bizarre and boring blogging.

This is good, but sometimes you have so much going on in your head that coming up with coherent posts is just too much. B tells me that just as soon as her life settles down she's going to "audio blog" because she's too lazy to type. I won't go down that road because I would have 300 entries per day and they would all be pure, unadulterated nonsense. One entry of that per day is MORE than enough.

So how are you all? What's up, my peeps? Tell me something funny or interesting. Rant about anything your heart desires. Yay for writing my post FOR me!

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Selected Adventures

"Cracking cheese, Gromit!"
Late Saturday afternoon, K and I went to see "Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Wererabbit." I think the first time I ever saw W&G was when my dad brought home from a trip to England a tape of samples of the work of Aardman Animation, including a Wallace and Gromit short. They had me at "stop prevaricating around the bush." Then my three-year-old cousin had the entire set of shorts and we watched them over and over again during one trip in Argentina. Sheer delight! This movie did not disappoint, and it was even more delightful to see it on the big screen where close-ups of the character's faces revealed the fingerprints of the animators. Lovely.

Awww, shucks!
Sunday's solo at church went well. I was reminded once again that my breath control is shot to Hades, but the song still turned out well. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, and I'm hoping I can get in on some trios and duets because I much prefer them.

Move over, Aristotle, it's LODGE LOGIC.
Yeah, so it was Sunday afternoon. We got home from church and had random stuff for lunch - you know leftovers, sandwiches, bowls of hearty grains, and the like - and I thawed some pork loin for dinner. The day before I had acquired some pork herb rub in the spice aisle (because I may be self-controlled, by I'm still a spice junkie) and I wanted to try it out. I made that big stink about grill pans recently, and I decided it was high time to get one. So while K whiled away the afternoon over Battlefield 2, I tramped through Bed Bath and Beyond and found my Lodge Logic Cast Iron Grill Pan. Expertly wielding my "20% off" and "$5 off $15 purchase" coupons, I managed to save a tidy sum off the $25 MSRP. But then I cooked with it. Heavenly. It gave the meat those swanky grill marks, everything stayed moist and tender, and it was as easy as scraping off the crusties and glazing it with cooking spray for storage. Ladies and gentleman, we have a winner!

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Check out my classy links. I think all of the blogs I link to currently are people I know personally. It's like a blogging coven. Except without the paganism. So really it's not a "coven." Awesome . . .

One man's "pushing the reality envelope" is another man's "LYING LIARS!"
The World According to Hollywood - Pushing the reality envelope. By Edward Jay Epstein
I found that article last night and I just wanted to laugh. They LIED about the actual sales figures. Just . . . stupid . . . I . . . Words fail me.

"Half the time it's like the losing side of a log-rolling contest around here."
It really felt like that yesterday with work and other things going on. I added the links to this page and that was all I could really muster. I like to think I can be relied upon to deliver the posts daily, but I have heard mutterings of distress (cough "B!" cough, cough) and I am sorry. The rest of you probably don't care anyway, so that makes me feel better. Wait . . . it does and then, it's sorta . . . (Oh, that the very amusing visual image in the quote is brought to you by a writer/blogger who is most entertaining and occasionally quite insightful.)