There is too much cancer in my family. That’s all I can say about that. I talk a lot and love to share personal information (too much), but really, mostly I can’t talk about my dad with anyone but my husband and my sister. It’s just too scary to talk about it with anyone else because then you have to contend with their reactions and I’m also all sorts of awkward when people try to give me sympathy. Basically, I am an emotional fuckwit when it comes to this particular situation. I’m on auto-pilot and I haven’t really let my guard down about it yet. I’m dreading the day the guard comes down. Perhaps this weekend, when we’re in Minnesota with my family. However, he’s an emotional fuckwit as well. Apple does not fall far from the tree. Also, he’s the one who taught me that crying is weak and one should not do it. Good lesson dad. Really, I’d rather cry than be all percolating with under-the-surface emotion that is sure to be released at a very inopportune time. I’m looking at rush hour or work-related meeting.
Ugly intro paragraph, that.
There’s a black squirrel in the tree outside my office window, and I’m wondering if it’s naturally black or just so dirty from living in the city that it’s colored black. I remember the pigeons in the Tube in London and how several of them were so dirty, and many were also missing feet from being run over by the subway. That always freaked me out. These poor little amputated British pigeons.
Who’s in an uplifting mood today? (rhetorical, don’t answer that)
I think I would be feeling more upbeat today if I had slept a sufficient amount last night. We didn’t go to be until later than usual because of the never ending bathroom remodel. Brett is remarkable in his abilities, because there is now a shower where there was not but a few days ago. He is a saint for doing the lion’s share of it. I bop in and throw down a little paint, or sweep up some dust on occasion, but mostly it’s his show. He’s a good man. Let that be shouted from the roof tops!
Also, let it be shouted that today is a grand day because it is an excuse to eat something deliciously Cajun, and also listen to our President eloquently tell Congress to stop fucking shit up and get with the program. I love him, he makes swoon a bit. Quite a change from that other guy.
And, have you noticed that the light is different now? It’s spring time light. It stays around longer and seems brighter. Probably because it is. Thanks for the never ending ride, rotation of the planet; you sure keep things interesting and desperate come February. Maybe you could just move a little faster for a while. I’m sure no bad would come of that.
Back to work. Hi ho, hi ho.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Couples Meme . . .
. . . stolen from Dooce.
What are your middle names? Mine is Marie. His is Alan.
How long have you been together? Three years. It seems like a lot longer though, because we’ve been through A LOT in these past three years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating? No.
Who asked whom out? Um, I’m not sure if I remember, but I think it was more of a “you’ll be in the same place I’ll be, so let’s meet up.” Not all that official really.
How old are each of you? We’re both 31.
Whose siblings do you see the most? Mine, I think. We live far away from his and mine, so really it’s kind of a crap shoot. We’ve actually spent more days with his brother than my sister in the past year, but have seen my sister more frequently. Does that make any sense?
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? The usual suspects of money and communication with a soupcon of major life decisions.
Did you go to the same school? Nope. I went to some very Midwestern private schools, and he went to some very Western public schools.
Are you from the same home town? Nope - he’s from Montana, I’m from Minnesota
.
Who is smarter? Depends on the category or subject: In some areas, I am, and in others he is. We’re pretty smart on the whole though, in my not-so-humble opinion.
Who is the most sensitive? ME! For sure. I could win sensitivity battles without even trying. It’s ridiculous.
Where do you eat out most as a couple? We LOVE to eat out and do it more frequently than we should (though we cook at home frequently too, basically we just eat a lot). We typically eat anywhere that’s NOT a chain; the more hole-in-the-wall the better.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? I suppose the Bahamas.
Who has the craziest exes? He does. No contest
.
Who has the worst temper? I’m going to say him, and hope he doesn’t get mad.
Who does the cooking? Both of us, and frequently together. Cooking and eating are pretty much our favorite activities.
Who is the neat-freak? Neither of us. I’m more the clean freak than he is, though, and I’m not all THAT clean, like at all.
Who is more stubborn? Him? Me? I don’t know if either of us are really all that stubborn.
Who hogs the bed? The dogs. Last night he said, “I hope that when we have a kid, the dogs sleep with it.” It’s true, that’s a good reason for us to have one.
Who wakes up earlier? Usually we wake up at the same time, except on the days I go into the office, and then I’m up earlier.
Where was your first date? A rodeo in Billings, Montana.
Who is more jealous? I don’t think either of us is particularly jealous, but if anyone had to be more, it would be me.
How long did it take to get serious? I’d say after our second date. It was pretty much a no-brainer.
Who eats more? He can eat more in one sitting than I can; I could probably put away more in a day.
Who does the laundry? It defaults to me because I wear more clothes.
Who’s better with the computer? He is.
Who drives when you are together? He does. I prefer it that way for a couple of reasons: (1) My commute to the office is long and treacherous, thus anytime not driving is okay with me; (2) He critiques my driving sometimes and that makes me nervous and annoyed.
What are your middle names? Mine is Marie. His is Alan.
How long have you been together? Three years. It seems like a lot longer though, because we’ve been through A LOT in these past three years.
How long did you know each other before you started dating? No.
Who asked whom out? Um, I’m not sure if I remember, but I think it was more of a “you’ll be in the same place I’ll be, so let’s meet up.” Not all that official really.
How old are each of you? We’re both 31.
Whose siblings do you see the most? Mine, I think. We live far away from his and mine, so really it’s kind of a crap shoot. We’ve actually spent more days with his brother than my sister in the past year, but have seen my sister more frequently. Does that make any sense?
Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? The usual suspects of money and communication with a soupcon of major life decisions.
Did you go to the same school? Nope. I went to some very Midwestern private schools, and he went to some very Western public schools.
Are you from the same home town? Nope - he’s from Montana, I’m from Minnesota
.
Who is smarter? Depends on the category or subject: In some areas, I am, and in others he is. We’re pretty smart on the whole though, in my not-so-humble opinion.
Who is the most sensitive? ME! For sure. I could win sensitivity battles without even trying. It’s ridiculous.
Where do you eat out most as a couple? We LOVE to eat out and do it more frequently than we should (though we cook at home frequently too, basically we just eat a lot). We typically eat anywhere that’s NOT a chain; the more hole-in-the-wall the better.
Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? I suppose the Bahamas.
Who has the craziest exes? He does. No contest
.
Who has the worst temper? I’m going to say him, and hope he doesn’t get mad.
Who does the cooking? Both of us, and frequently together. Cooking and eating are pretty much our favorite activities.
Who is the neat-freak? Neither of us. I’m more the clean freak than he is, though, and I’m not all THAT clean, like at all.
Who is more stubborn? Him? Me? I don’t know if either of us are really all that stubborn.
Who hogs the bed? The dogs. Last night he said, “I hope that when we have a kid, the dogs sleep with it.” It’s true, that’s a good reason for us to have one.
Who wakes up earlier? Usually we wake up at the same time, except on the days I go into the office, and then I’m up earlier.
Where was your first date? A rodeo in Billings, Montana.
Who is more jealous? I don’t think either of us is particularly jealous, but if anyone had to be more, it would be me.
How long did it take to get serious? I’d say after our second date. It was pretty much a no-brainer.
Who eats more? He can eat more in one sitting than I can; I could probably put away more in a day.
Who does the laundry? It defaults to me because I wear more clothes.
Who’s better with the computer? He is.
Who drives when you are together? He does. I prefer it that way for a couple of reasons: (1) My commute to the office is long and treacherous, thus anytime not driving is okay with me; (2) He critiques my driving sometimes and that makes me nervous and annoyed.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Too lazy to post on FB and also still skeptical of FB
25 things about me:
1. In junior high and possibly beyond, I had a major crush on Peter Jennings.
2. I like the word “bailiwick” but am not terribly fond of “nadir.”
3. I have really good ideas when I’m driving.
4. I love recipes and magazines involving recipes and cooking.
5. My husband is a better cook than I am, but I’m a better baker.
6. We are loathe to admit that we are foodies and possibly winos.
7. I’ve had 4 speeding tickets in my life: Two in the same day, and one the first day of my job here in Chicago. Neither of these days do I want to remember in any detail.
8. I am a pretty good driver, really.
9. I used to be a pretty good piano player. I have since forgotten how to play, but I will learn again now that I’ve got a fancy new piano.
10. I can type really really fast.
11. I’m afraid of the dark and things that go bump in the night. Our children will have to check my closet at bedtime.
12. I am also very afraid of snakes and semi-trucks crushing me and/or forcing me off of a bridge. I have some fear issues, clearly.
13. I love dogs.
14. I am ridiculously and painfully sensitive.
15. If I could do it over again, I’d be a nurse.
16. I picked up my love of home-grown humor (i.e. Garrison Keillor) from my father, my appreciation of classical music from my mother, and my love and toleration of weird stuff from my sister. They are all great people.
17. I have never been a good sleeper. Too anxious about everything.
18. I average four cups of coffee a day.
19. We routinely hang out with people our parents’ age. Not on purpose.
20. I routinely talk to myself during the day, and I routinely refer to myself via my maiden name. E.G. “Get it together lastname!” or “left shoe on left foot, lastname!”
21. I’ve become a better person in the past few years.
22. In fact, I’ve become a better person in the past month.
23. I have very good taste in television, but for two digressions, one on MTV and one on TLC.
24. I wish I had thicker, fuller hair. Any product that claims to provide you with same is a liar.
25. I believe I have a charmed life.
1. In junior high and possibly beyond, I had a major crush on Peter Jennings.
2. I like the word “bailiwick” but am not terribly fond of “nadir.”
3. I have really good ideas when I’m driving.
4. I love recipes and magazines involving recipes and cooking.
5. My husband is a better cook than I am, but I’m a better baker.
6. We are loathe to admit that we are foodies and possibly winos.
7. I’ve had 4 speeding tickets in my life: Two in the same day, and one the first day of my job here in Chicago. Neither of these days do I want to remember in any detail.
8. I am a pretty good driver, really.
9. I used to be a pretty good piano player. I have since forgotten how to play, but I will learn again now that I’ve got a fancy new piano.
10. I can type really really fast.
11. I’m afraid of the dark and things that go bump in the night. Our children will have to check my closet at bedtime.
12. I am also very afraid of snakes and semi-trucks crushing me and/or forcing me off of a bridge. I have some fear issues, clearly.
13. I love dogs.
14. I am ridiculously and painfully sensitive.
15. If I could do it over again, I’d be a nurse.
16. I picked up my love of home-grown humor (i.e. Garrison Keillor) from my father, my appreciation of classical music from my mother, and my love and toleration of weird stuff from my sister. They are all great people.
17. I have never been a good sleeper. Too anxious about everything.
18. I average four cups of coffee a day.
19. We routinely hang out with people our parents’ age. Not on purpose.
20. I routinely talk to myself during the day, and I routinely refer to myself via my maiden name. E.G. “Get it together lastname!” or “left shoe on left foot, lastname!”
21. I’ve become a better person in the past few years.
22. In fact, I’ve become a better person in the past month.
23. I have very good taste in television, but for two digressions, one on MTV and one on TLC.
24. I wish I had thicker, fuller hair. Any product that claims to provide you with same is a liar.
25. I believe I have a charmed life.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I’m having one of those twitchy days when I’m all worked up about something and everything but all of these things are nothings in reality. I’m just sort of freaked out and over caffeinated about all sorts of stupid shit and it’s really fucking annoying. I’m such a peculiar sort of crazy that it really requires an advanced primer to be sent to all of you just so you have a basic understanding of the underlying elements of my psychosis. It’s just too hard to try to cover in a more succinct format.
One thing stands out is that I cannot for the life of my watch an episode of Oprah without breaking down in tears. Last night we got home from our first dog obedience class (dear God, why is every dog trainer I’ve ever met a lunatic?) and I thought I’d iron some clothes while watching television. So I switched on my DVR’d episode of Oprah, the one about obese teens, and cue the blubbering. It broke my heart and it made me want to have my own session of “I’m angry because . . .” as I too am angry about so many things and would like to voice those things instead of eating brownies and anxiously fretting over rudimentary crap (see above). Oh help me, I love Oprah and I also love my husband because I’m pretty sure he’d listen if I did want to engage in one of those sessions. If only we could schedule it in.
Yes, that’s the worst part of my generalized anxiety. There just isn’t enough time to do all the things that need to get done. Everyone is in this boat, I know, I just feel like I am ill-equipped to deal with all the chaos and stress surrounding our house right now. I fully believe that the state of your house reflects the state of your brain and if you saw our house right now you’d appreciate the gravity of my concerns. Shit is a mess. This is primarily due to the ongoing bathroom remodel, which has been seriously waylaid by Brett’s back injury, but also because we have a tiny house and a lot of crap and it’s winter and thus we are SHUT IN the tiny house of disorganization. It’s making us crazy.
I cannot wait for spring. I’ve never felt so desperate for warm weather in my life.
One thing stands out is that I cannot for the life of my watch an episode of Oprah without breaking down in tears. Last night we got home from our first dog obedience class (dear God, why is every dog trainer I’ve ever met a lunatic?) and I thought I’d iron some clothes while watching television. So I switched on my DVR’d episode of Oprah, the one about obese teens, and cue the blubbering. It broke my heart and it made me want to have my own session of “I’m angry because . . .” as I too am angry about so many things and would like to voice those things instead of eating brownies and anxiously fretting over rudimentary crap (see above). Oh help me, I love Oprah and I also love my husband because I’m pretty sure he’d listen if I did want to engage in one of those sessions. If only we could schedule it in.
Yes, that’s the worst part of my generalized anxiety. There just isn’t enough time to do all the things that need to get done. Everyone is in this boat, I know, I just feel like I am ill-equipped to deal with all the chaos and stress surrounding our house right now. I fully believe that the state of your house reflects the state of your brain and if you saw our house right now you’d appreciate the gravity of my concerns. Shit is a mess. This is primarily due to the ongoing bathroom remodel, which has been seriously waylaid by Brett’s back injury, but also because we have a tiny house and a lot of crap and it’s winter and thus we are SHUT IN the tiny house of disorganization. It’s making us crazy.
I cannot wait for spring. I’ve never felt so desperate for warm weather in my life.
Friday, January 16, 2009
of sneezes and hormones
I feel like shit today because I do believe I caught a cold from Brett. So now both of us feel like shit and unfortunately the dogs are incapable of doing things like grocery shopping and snow shoveling. According to my favorite weather man, Tom Skilling, we will be inundated with another few inches of snow tomorrow. Mother fucker.
I did go to the GYN yesterday and he was encouraged that I have about a 75% chance of being pregnant in the next few months. This is good. He also thought that if my cycle doesn't return (it went away because of the Lupron) by April 15th, he'll start me on Clomid. Anybody ever taken this drug? I'm curious if there are any fun side-effect to this one, becuase I so enjoyed the side-effects from Lupron (sarcasm there).
In other news, my jeans are looser today. I'm happy about this but think it may be do to the hormone changes (coming off of Lupron) and not anything I'm doing. We haven't worked out since last year. Granted last year was only two weeks ago, but still. I don't think I'll be working out until next week given my sudden onset sickness. Once again, mother fucker. All the good intentions I have about health and fitness tend to get over shadowed by LIFE. Stupid annoying LIFE. If I can't keep up with it now, I don't know how I'll deal when there's a little one, but we'll work on that when and if it happens.
I also already started doing my taxes, which means two things: (1) I'm a nerd; and (2) mama needs a new pair of everything.
I did go to the GYN yesterday and he was encouraged that I have about a 75% chance of being pregnant in the next few months. This is good. He also thought that if my cycle doesn't return (it went away because of the Lupron) by April 15th, he'll start me on Clomid. Anybody ever taken this drug? I'm curious if there are any fun side-effect to this one, becuase I so enjoyed the side-effects from Lupron (sarcasm there).
In other news, my jeans are looser today. I'm happy about this but think it may be do to the hormone changes (coming off of Lupron) and not anything I'm doing. We haven't worked out since last year. Granted last year was only two weeks ago, but still. I don't think I'll be working out until next week given my sudden onset sickness. Once again, mother fucker. All the good intentions I have about health and fitness tend to get over shadowed by LIFE. Stupid annoying LIFE. If I can't keep up with it now, I don't know how I'll deal when there's a little one, but we'll work on that when and if it happens.
I also already started doing my taxes, which means two things: (1) I'm a nerd; and (2) mama needs a new pair of everything.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Easier (and better, way better) than a bread machine
Hi.
It's snowing AGAIN. Normally, I wouldn't care, but here's the reason why this is not a normal snow: I HAVE TO SHOVEL IT. Brett is laid up with a lumbar strain, which sucks for him, and for me because he cannot do the normal things he does, which include shoveling. The kicker is that I already have a bad back thanks to a little something called spondylolisis (say that five times fast), which means that when I shovel it's so incredibly half-assed that it's barely worth doing. But if I don't shovel, then the dogs start peeing on the drive-way or side-walk or deck because they don't know the difference between a snow covered deck and a snow covered yard, but I do. Thus, I will half-assedly shovel some snow. . . later.
Now I will post a bread recipe that has a devout following in our house. I found it a book that Swistle recommended called The Tightwad Gazette. So here it is, and it's very easy and quite delicious and I will never buy store bread again . . .
5-6 cups all-purpose flour (you can substitute whole-wheat flour for 1 to 2 cups)
2 tablespoons dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
2 cups hot water
1 tablespoon sesame or poppy seeds
Mix 4 cups of the flour with the yeast, sugar and salt. Pour in hot water and beat 100 strokes, or 3 minutes with a mixer. Stir in the remaining flour until the dough is no longer sticky. Knead 8 minutes (I use the dough hook on my Kitchen Aid mixer and just let that roll around for about 8 minutes and it turns out fine). Place the dough in a greased bowl, and cover with a damp towel. Let rise 15 minutes (I have found that the rising time is more like an hour, but our house is incredibly dry, so the time may vary). Punch down (good fun). Divide into 2 pieces. Shape into 2 round loaves and place on a baking sheet. Cut an X 1/2 inch deep on top with a sharp knife. Brush with water and sprinkle with seeds. Place on the middle shelf of a cold oven. Place a cake pan of hot water on the lowest shelf. Heta the oven to 400 degrees. Bake 40-50 minutes until deep golden brown. YUM.
In other news, I'm going to the gyne tomorrow to discuss getting pregnant. Hopefully he'll reassure me that things will go alright and I should stop reading all the horrible things about Lupron that I find when I randomly google Lupron and pregnancy. God help me, I'm my own worst enemy.
It's snowing AGAIN. Normally, I wouldn't care, but here's the reason why this is not a normal snow: I HAVE TO SHOVEL IT. Brett is laid up with a lumbar strain, which sucks for him, and for me because he cannot do the normal things he does, which include shoveling. The kicker is that I already have a bad back thanks to a little something called spondylolisis (say that five times fast), which means that when I shovel it's so incredibly half-assed that it's barely worth doing. But if I don't shovel, then the dogs start peeing on the drive-way or side-walk or deck because they don't know the difference between a snow covered deck and a snow covered yard, but I do. Thus, I will half-assedly shovel some snow. . . later.
Now I will post a bread recipe that has a devout following in our house. I found it a book that Swistle recommended called The Tightwad Gazette. So here it is, and it's very easy and quite delicious and I will never buy store bread again . . .
5-6 cups all-purpose flour (you can substitute whole-wheat flour for 1 to 2 cups)
2 tablespoons dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon salt
2 cups hot water
1 tablespoon sesame or poppy seeds
Mix 4 cups of the flour with the yeast, sugar and salt. Pour in hot water and beat 100 strokes, or 3 minutes with a mixer. Stir in the remaining flour until the dough is no longer sticky. Knead 8 minutes (I use the dough hook on my Kitchen Aid mixer and just let that roll around for about 8 minutes and it turns out fine). Place the dough in a greased bowl, and cover with a damp towel. Let rise 15 minutes (I have found that the rising time is more like an hour, but our house is incredibly dry, so the time may vary). Punch down (good fun). Divide into 2 pieces. Shape into 2 round loaves and place on a baking sheet. Cut an X 1/2 inch deep on top with a sharp knife. Brush with water and sprinkle with seeds. Place on the middle shelf of a cold oven. Place a cake pan of hot water on the lowest shelf. Heta the oven to 400 degrees. Bake 40-50 minutes until deep golden brown. YUM.
In other news, I'm going to the gyne tomorrow to discuss getting pregnant. Hopefully he'll reassure me that things will go alright and I should stop reading all the horrible things about Lupron that I find when I randomly google Lupron and pregnancy. God help me, I'm my own worst enemy.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Just an FYI . . . Brett maybe pulled a muscle or is experiencing some nasty sciatica or radiculopathy from all the luggage handling he did during our vacation, only to be followed by snow shoveling upon our return. At least that's what he hopes it is, and not some bizarre tropical disease he picked up on our sojourn. Unfortunately, he had to go to class today and in an effort to actually make it to class (he could barely stand up last night) he took a very powerful pain killer that was left over from some procedure or another and now he's sick from that. The boy just can't win. Also, how on earth do you get addicted to those nasty pain killers? I have taken a total of 2 in my entire life, and on both occasions I became ferociously ill.
Two Words
Slim Fast.
Strikes fear into your heart doesn't it? I know. Mine too. Except, it's not that bad really. Mostly becuase I'm not really on a diet, I'm just on a quest to not be so fucking hungry. I figure that if I down a Slim*Fast every now and again, maybe I won't snack so much when I'm at the office. The office has this funny way of making me eat when I shouldn't. I think it's something to do with mundane day to day duties that suck the life out of me and the thought of a Snickers bar is the only that gets me through the day. Anyway, we'll see how it goes.
Also, I quit drinking. Full stop. That should reduce my weekly caloric intake by about a million calories (not quite, but almost. I love my wine). It's okay though, because I'm hoping I'll be pregnant in a little bit and I'm hoping that I will feel better and maybe my boobs will start shrinking (until I get pregnant, at which point I assume they will blot out the sun with their enormity) and maybe I'll sleep better and maybe I'll stop spilling wine all over the neighbors six-year old child (true story). Here's hoping.
Oh, and our vacation was completely lovely. Pictures eventually, maybe from Brett? Although he is suffering from post-vacation cold/immobility due to searing pain in his buttocks, so maybe after that's over (seriously, the poor guy is in a lot of pain and please send him get well thoughts).
Over and out good buddies, for now.
Strikes fear into your heart doesn't it? I know. Mine too. Except, it's not that bad really. Mostly becuase I'm not really on a diet, I'm just on a quest to not be so fucking hungry. I figure that if I down a Slim*Fast every now and again, maybe I won't snack so much when I'm at the office. The office has this funny way of making me eat when I shouldn't. I think it's something to do with mundane day to day duties that suck the life out of me and the thought of a Snickers bar is the only that gets me through the day. Anyway, we'll see how it goes.
Also, I quit drinking. Full stop. That should reduce my weekly caloric intake by about a million calories (not quite, but almost. I love my wine). It's okay though, because I'm hoping I'll be pregnant in a little bit and I'm hoping that I will feel better and maybe my boobs will start shrinking (until I get pregnant, at which point I assume they will blot out the sun with their enormity) and maybe I'll sleep better and maybe I'll stop spilling wine all over the neighbors six-year old child (true story). Here's hoping.
Oh, and our vacation was completely lovely. Pictures eventually, maybe from Brett? Although he is suffering from post-vacation cold/immobility due to searing pain in his buttocks, so maybe after that's over (seriously, the poor guy is in a lot of pain and please send him get well thoughts).
Over and out good buddies, for now.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Move over 2008, here comes something better
Look, there were a lot of wonderful things that happened this past year, but honestly, I'm so freaking glad that it's over. Brett and I were going over all the shit that went down over the course of the last year, and oh my hell, that was a lot of stuff to deal with. I have a tremendous amount of relief knowing that I can file it all away as DONE and NEVER AGAIN. Oh my God, so much relief.
This year I hope to settle down and just enjoy the gifts I have, and not lament the losses or lacks in my life. I have a lot of things to treasure, if only I'd stop concentrating on the "only ifs." I wish you all a Happy New Year.
This year I hope to settle down and just enjoy the gifts I have, and not lament the losses or lacks in my life. I have a lot of things to treasure, if only I'd stop concentrating on the "only ifs." I wish you all a Happy New Year.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Bringin' da crazy
First thing’s first, I totally started up again because Tess did. It’s true. I read her post and thought, man, why aren’t I blogging anymore? Because it’s all about me, all the time, apparently.
Secondly, I’ve had a lot of strange things happening to me lately; strange in the way that they can’t all be coincidences. Someone once told me, or maybe it was in a book (who am I kidding? It was probably in a magazine) that when shit like this happens, it’s just because you started paying attention and noticed things that would normally go unnoticed. The used the example of the number 23. Apparently you tell people that 23 is the most common number, and suddenly people are looking for 23 and noticing it, whereas they normally would not pay any attention. The result is that they see all these 23s and are like, “you’re right, 23 is totally common!” I say that’s very NOT fun and I prefer my logic: It’s magical and mysterious and I am special!
I totally believe in the crazy shit though. I mean, not the really crazy shit (mostly), but I am a firm believer in the unknowable and the special and the universe working in ways that I don’t understand (some may call them “mysterious ways” :). Maybe it’s just a way for me to keep hopeful in times of stress, or happy in times of sadness, but I like it when the universe sort of winks at you and I take comfort in the weirdest of weird things. And believe me when I say I am not a very religious person in the usual meaning of that term. It’s just nice to feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m on the right path even if I mostly feel like I’m flailing down life’s path like a monkey doing cartwheels. I sort of use these “coincidences” as the universe’s little mile-markers and it gives me a sense of peace and trajectory that I mostly lack.
And now we will return to the slightly less insane ramblings of your’s truly . . . except that I have to go now, so that’s all you get.
Secondly, I’ve had a lot of strange things happening to me lately; strange in the way that they can’t all be coincidences. Someone once told me, or maybe it was in a book (who am I kidding? It was probably in a magazine) that when shit like this happens, it’s just because you started paying attention and noticed things that would normally go unnoticed. The used the example of the number 23. Apparently you tell people that 23 is the most common number, and suddenly people are looking for 23 and noticing it, whereas they normally would not pay any attention. The result is that they see all these 23s and are like, “you’re right, 23 is totally common!” I say that’s very NOT fun and I prefer my logic: It’s magical and mysterious and I am special!
I totally believe in the crazy shit though. I mean, not the really crazy shit (mostly), but I am a firm believer in the unknowable and the special and the universe working in ways that I don’t understand (some may call them “mysterious ways” :). Maybe it’s just a way for me to keep hopeful in times of stress, or happy in times of sadness, but I like it when the universe sort of winks at you and I take comfort in the weirdest of weird things. And believe me when I say I am not a very religious person in the usual meaning of that term. It’s just nice to feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m on the right path even if I mostly feel like I’m flailing down life’s path like a monkey doing cartwheels. I sort of use these “coincidences” as the universe’s little mile-markers and it gives me a sense of peace and trajectory that I mostly lack.
And now we will return to the slightly less insane ramblings of your’s truly . . . except that I have to go now, so that’s all you get.
It's sure been a while
Hi there. I’m still alive and kicking, just not writing much these days. I got very bored with myself somewhere in there, and just couldn’t conjure enough excitement word wise to hit “publish.” Then I just got too far away from this place and felt silly going back. You know how that is, it’s like when you’re gone from the gym for many weeks and you want to go back, but feel dumb because you don’t want people to ask why you stopped going or notice that you’ve gotten grossly out of shape, etc. Maybe that experience is mine alone.
Anywho, all is well here in Flib land. I still have a job, a home, a husband, and two stinky dogs. The house has undergone some serious changes and thanks to my husband, all have been performed without charge. I’m just around for moral support and clean up crew. It works out just fine. We are currently in the middle of a complete bathroom remodel, including putting in a shower. For some reason, the main bathroom in our house, the one in between all the bedrooms, did not come with a shower. Annoying. So Brett is having a crash course in plumbing. Very exciting.
However, lesson learned in that undertaking a massive construction project days before Christmas is a very very VERY bad idea. (reasonable people, like you, surely know this already)
So, the house, it is a mess, and it will stay that way for another two-weeks because we are off to the Bahamas. We are taking a cruise and I could not be more excited. It will be our first real vacation. Every time we go somewhere (including our “honeymoon,” yes our honeymoon) we have some sort of family along for the ride. We have never done anything alone that lasted more than two nights. It is only appropriate for this is the kick-off for baby making season.
Yup, you read that right. The cruise will be our last hurrah before I get all crazy for the baby. You may be thinking that it’s weird to “schedule” your hopeful conception, except that in may case it’s not, because I’ve been on this hormone that stops ovulation, so it’s actually impossible (mostly) for me to get pregnant before that’s out of my system, and it won’t be out of my system until January 15th (ish), so this cruise is timed perfectly.
This may be my only outlet for discussions of getting pregnant. I don’t really want to discuss it with people I know in the “real world” because, well, I don’t know, I just don’t. Also, Brett may get tired of hearing about my cervical mucous and my basal temperature, so this may be the perfect outlet for me (and cue the loss of all readers). Hopefully, we will have good news, but maybe we won’t and maybe this will be a good place to write about our difficulties. So, I guess that’s the plan here . . . to chronicle this adventure and maybe get some advice and support.
Anywho, all is well here in Flib land. I still have a job, a home, a husband, and two stinky dogs. The house has undergone some serious changes and thanks to my husband, all have been performed without charge. I’m just around for moral support and clean up crew. It works out just fine. We are currently in the middle of a complete bathroom remodel, including putting in a shower. For some reason, the main bathroom in our house, the one in between all the bedrooms, did not come with a shower. Annoying. So Brett is having a crash course in plumbing. Very exciting.
However, lesson learned in that undertaking a massive construction project days before Christmas is a very very VERY bad idea. (reasonable people, like you, surely know this already)
So, the house, it is a mess, and it will stay that way for another two-weeks because we are off to the Bahamas. We are taking a cruise and I could not be more excited. It will be our first real vacation. Every time we go somewhere (including our “honeymoon,” yes our honeymoon) we have some sort of family along for the ride. We have never done anything alone that lasted more than two nights. It is only appropriate for this is the kick-off for baby making season.
Yup, you read that right. The cruise will be our last hurrah before I get all crazy for the baby. You may be thinking that it’s weird to “schedule” your hopeful conception, except that in may case it’s not, because I’ve been on this hormone that stops ovulation, so it’s actually impossible (mostly) for me to get pregnant before that’s out of my system, and it won’t be out of my system until January 15th (ish), so this cruise is timed perfectly.
This may be my only outlet for discussions of getting pregnant. I don’t really want to discuss it with people I know in the “real world” because, well, I don’t know, I just don’t. Also, Brett may get tired of hearing about my cervical mucous and my basal temperature, so this may be the perfect outlet for me (and cue the loss of all readers). Hopefully, we will have good news, but maybe we won’t and maybe this will be a good place to write about our difficulties. So, I guess that’s the plan here . . . to chronicle this adventure and maybe get some advice and support.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
paragraphs
I’m afraid to admit this in public, but I’m really excited that the football season kicks off tonight. However, I’m confused as to who to root for. On the one hand, it’s hard not to root for Chicago, but I’ve always harbored a soft spot for the Packers. However, now that Favre is gone, am I still a Packer’s fan? I’m not even sure if I’m a Favre fan after the retirement crap he pulled, so I clearly can’t be a Jets fan. I’m a woman without a team. It’s confusing.
I wore a fleece to work today, it was just that chilly. This makes me happy because I am much more a cool weather gal than a hot weather gal. Odds are we’ll have at least one more 90 degree snap before fall actually settles in, but this is a brief glimpse of the pumpkin lattes, honey crisp apples and crunchy leaves yet to come.
I have my iPod on shuffle, but it keeps shuffling to Christmas music at the most inopportune moments, say when my boss stops by for a chat or when the one attorney who is always looking at me suspiciously walks by my office.
I don’t know why one of my colleagues seems suspicious of me, but she totally does. She never looks me in the eye and frequently avoids me in the hallway. This, in turn, makes me go out of my way to interact with her because I want to show her that I’m normal and she does need not be suspicious. I suspect this makes her more suspicious.
We’re going to Texas next weekend for a combination business and pleasure (mostly business, but I suspect there will be some pleasure involved). I love Texas, mainly for the food. And by food I mean the tex-mex shit. The salsa/cheese/meat/tortilla combinations. They know their way around a chili down that way. Unfortunately my sister (who lives there and who we’re staying with) is a vegetarian and a snobby one at that, so who knows if we’ll even get to sample the good stuff.
I’m knee deep in the shit of official name change. I totally abandoned my maiden name and fully embraced Brett’s last name because I like having the same last name and his is a whole lot more anonymous than my maiden name. If you googled my full maiden name you would get me and only me. If you google my new married full name I am a whole host of things, and the actual me does not show up until page 13 or something. It’s fantastic. I love a little anonymity.
Oh, but the name change shit, it SUCKS. I mean really sucks. Changing my name with Social Security was easy – you just have to go to the office with the proper documents. Changing my name with my workplace has been nothing short of horrific, which would be funny if you knew where I worked, which you don’t, which is for the best.
I like calling Brett my “husband.” It feels really good.
Brett will hopefully post some photo documentation of our trip out west on his blog, but for now you only get one other picture of the actual wedding. We haven’t gotten the CD with the digital pictures on it because our photographer is flighty and crazy and maybe not really a photographer at all, but that’s a story for another time.
I wore a fleece to work today, it was just that chilly. This makes me happy because I am much more a cool weather gal than a hot weather gal. Odds are we’ll have at least one more 90 degree snap before fall actually settles in, but this is a brief glimpse of the pumpkin lattes, honey crisp apples and crunchy leaves yet to come.
I have my iPod on shuffle, but it keeps shuffling to Christmas music at the most inopportune moments, say when my boss stops by for a chat or when the one attorney who is always looking at me suspiciously walks by my office.
I don’t know why one of my colleagues seems suspicious of me, but she totally does. She never looks me in the eye and frequently avoids me in the hallway. This, in turn, makes me go out of my way to interact with her because I want to show her that I’m normal and she does need not be suspicious. I suspect this makes her more suspicious.
We’re going to Texas next weekend for a combination business and pleasure (mostly business, but I suspect there will be some pleasure involved). I love Texas, mainly for the food. And by food I mean the tex-mex shit. The salsa/cheese/meat/tortilla combinations. They know their way around a chili down that way. Unfortunately my sister (who lives there and who we’re staying with) is a vegetarian and a snobby one at that, so who knows if we’ll even get to sample the good stuff.
I’m knee deep in the shit of official name change. I totally abandoned my maiden name and fully embraced Brett’s last name because I like having the same last name and his is a whole lot more anonymous than my maiden name. If you googled my full maiden name you would get me and only me. If you google my new married full name I am a whole host of things, and the actual me does not show up until page 13 or something. It’s fantastic. I love a little anonymity.
Oh, but the name change shit, it SUCKS. I mean really sucks. Changing my name with Social Security was easy – you just have to go to the office with the proper documents. Changing my name with my workplace has been nothing short of horrific, which would be funny if you knew where I worked, which you don’t, which is for the best.
I like calling Brett my “husband.” It feels really good.
Brett will hopefully post some photo documentation of our trip out west on his blog, but for now you only get one other picture of the actual wedding. We haven’t gotten the CD with the digital pictures on it because our photographer is flighty and crazy and maybe not really a photographer at all, but that’s a story for another time.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I like being a married girl
We’ve actually been back at the real world game for over a week now, but it seems that when you check out of the real world for 2.5 weeks, it takes a bit of work to get back in. Rather annoying actually.
Regardless of the above, our whirl wind wedding/road trip was all together enjoyable. We had all this build up to the wedding, and then it just sort of happened, and nothing went wrong and everyone behaved (except the photographer who was NUTS) and I am so proud of us for being eerily calm during the entire damn thing.
The weather was stupidly perfect and the flowers, oh my god, the flowers were to die for! I loved them. Brett looked dapper in his tux and aside from the fact that the judge (someone who has known me since birth) asked if Play-boy was shooting a spread during the wedding (because apparently he thought my dress looked like a bustier) all went down quite nicely.
The only silly thing I did was forget my line once and I may or may not have sent projectile snot out of my nose and onto my bouquet while my now mother-in-law was singing during the ceremony. What can I say? It was very emotional.
Also, I may be taking my wedding dress out for drinks on a regular basis. You’d be shocked at how many very amiable individuals will see fit to buy you drinks when you’re in a wedding dress. Also, running into other brides, whom you’ve never met before, who also go out for drinks after their wedding is so much fun. It’s like you’re part of this ridiculous little frosted sorority for one night and you are so totally BFFs for about 10 minutes. It’s great. I highly recommend.
We’ll have more pictures of the ceremony once we actually get the proofs from the CRAZY lady a.k.a. photographer. Needless to say, she was about the only pratfall of the whole event, and even that wasn’t so bad.
The road trip out to Montana had a few snafus, mostly involving difficult sister in laws and me catching a nasty cold two days into the tip. I have to pat myself on the back though, because even though I was sneezing-coughing-dripping-stuffed to capacity SICK, I still camped, hiked, rafted, and survived a snake sighting. I am a T-to the R-double O-per .
Pictures to come of that bidness as well. As soon as we find time to do anything but laundry.
To sum it up: I highly recommend getting married. It’s pretty fun and if you marry someone like my husband, it’s even better because the fun doesn’t stop after the wedding.
Regardless of the above, our whirl wind wedding/road trip was all together enjoyable. We had all this build up to the wedding, and then it just sort of happened, and nothing went wrong and everyone behaved (except the photographer who was NUTS) and I am so proud of us for being eerily calm during the entire damn thing.
The weather was stupidly perfect and the flowers, oh my god, the flowers were to die for! I loved them. Brett looked dapper in his tux and aside from the fact that the judge (someone who has known me since birth) asked if Play-boy was shooting a spread during the wedding (because apparently he thought my dress looked like a bustier) all went down quite nicely.
The only silly thing I did was forget my line once and I may or may not have sent projectile snot out of my nose and onto my bouquet while my now mother-in-law was singing during the ceremony. What can I say? It was very emotional.
Also, I may be taking my wedding dress out for drinks on a regular basis. You’d be shocked at how many very amiable individuals will see fit to buy you drinks when you’re in a wedding dress. Also, running into other brides, whom you’ve never met before, who also go out for drinks after their wedding is so much fun. It’s like you’re part of this ridiculous little frosted sorority for one night and you are so totally BFFs for about 10 minutes. It’s great. I highly recommend.
We’ll have more pictures of the ceremony once we actually get the proofs from the CRAZY lady a.k.a. photographer. Needless to say, she was about the only pratfall of the whole event, and even that wasn’t so bad.
The road trip out to Montana had a few snafus, mostly involving difficult sister in laws and me catching a nasty cold two days into the tip. I have to pat myself on the back though, because even though I was sneezing-coughing-dripping-stuffed to capacity SICK, I still camped, hiked, rafted, and survived a snake sighting. I am a T-to the R-double O-per .
Pictures to come of that bidness as well. As soon as we find time to do anything but laundry.
To sum it up: I highly recommend getting married. It’s pretty fun and if you marry someone like my husband, it’s even better because the fun doesn’t stop after the wedding.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
My name is Flib and I am addicted to being hungover in inconvenient places
There is much preparation going on at casa de about-to-wed-in-T-minus-nine-short-days. Last weekend I had to drive to Minnesota for my final dress fitting, and then promptly turn around and drive back to Chicago, stopping off in Madison for a raucous bachelorette party (not so raucous really, but I did have to puke in a bag while trapped in traffic on I-90, and yes I know this is my second indecent puking incident in a single month and I am appropriately humiliated and seeking treatment in the form of leaving the state for 2.5 weeks).
Anyway, hallelujah, my dress fits. I was scared when I had the first fitting because I put it on and it literally fell off. It was zipped up and it fell off. It was, in so many words, way too fucking big. They accused me of losing weight, but I know my body, and I know that I have not lost that much weight. Luckily I found a very skilled seamstress and $500 dollars later, my dress fits. Thank goodness I have a very generous aunt, or I would be wearing a wearing dress with industrial clamps keeping it on my body because I stupidly had not budgeted for that much in alterations. Is nothing cheap when it comes to weddings? Sadly, no.
In all honesty, neither of us are too stressed out about the wedding. If things go wrong, so be it. We are getting married outside and we have no fall-back plan if it rains. I figure, if it rains, we hurry up with the ceremony and take the cake to an empty bar and save the champagne for another day. C’est la vie. (Note: my family does not share this laissez faire attitude with me, I pity them)
In more exciting news, Brett and I biked ourselves silly yesterday, exploring our newly adopted town. We moved to this singularly bucolic town in Northern Illinois, about 60 miles from Chicago. It is adorable, and friendly and filled with charming Victorian homes within walking distance to a town square that offers several delicious non-chain restaurants and cafes, bars with tin ceilings, a jewelry store where we bought our shiny wedding bands, a Ben Franklin and a bakery that serves up pull apart cinnamon bread. It’s kind of awesome, and we can bike there, which makes me extremely happy. We could walk there too, but biking is far more exciting.
We stopped at the bike shop (also in the town square, and also not a chain, which is kind of a mantra for us) and tried to procure some baskets for our bicycles so that we could actually run errands via bike, but, get this, they were SOLD OUT. Yes, there are so many like minded individuals that they could not keep their baskets in stock. This, my friends, is the silver lining on the ever expanding grey cloud of gas price doom. The world, our world, our way of life, is changing. Change is good. Change keeps us from becoming drones and while I have no idea how we will make it if gas keeps climbing, because we live on a budget and it does not allow for $20 gasoline (or even $6 dollar gasoline), I know that good will come out of this. I also know that biking is a whole lot more pleasant than driving. Change is a positive, even if it seems like a negative. It keeps you on your toes and that is always a good thing.
Also a good thing . . . Love is a Mixed Tap by Rob Sheffield. Go get this book and read it STAT. It is wonderful and I cried myself stupid and resisted the urge to call Brett (I read it this weekend while I was running around the Midwest puking in JC Penney bags and he was at home painting bedrooms) and tell him all the reason I loved him and what I would put on a mixed tape to express our love. Avoid doing that to your loved one, but nevertheless, it’s more wonderful than I can say.
What’s not so wonderful is the fact that our cable package does not offer Bravo in its line-up. This is a travesty for me because I am currently missing Project Runway. I set it to record on the DVR, but then when I played it back the TV mocked me with a “press info button for subscription information.” Fuck you cable company. I knew the deal you were giving me was too good to be true.
Check out Brett’s blog for info on his birthday surprise trip with bonus picture of us in kayaks. Awesome.
Anyway, hallelujah, my dress fits. I was scared when I had the first fitting because I put it on and it literally fell off. It was zipped up and it fell off. It was, in so many words, way too fucking big. They accused me of losing weight, but I know my body, and I know that I have not lost that much weight. Luckily I found a very skilled seamstress and $500 dollars later, my dress fits. Thank goodness I have a very generous aunt, or I would be wearing a wearing dress with industrial clamps keeping it on my body because I stupidly had not budgeted for that much in alterations. Is nothing cheap when it comes to weddings? Sadly, no.
In all honesty, neither of us are too stressed out about the wedding. If things go wrong, so be it. We are getting married outside and we have no fall-back plan if it rains. I figure, if it rains, we hurry up with the ceremony and take the cake to an empty bar and save the champagne for another day. C’est la vie. (Note: my family does not share this laissez faire attitude with me, I pity them)
In more exciting news, Brett and I biked ourselves silly yesterday, exploring our newly adopted town. We moved to this singularly bucolic town in Northern Illinois, about 60 miles from Chicago. It is adorable, and friendly and filled with charming Victorian homes within walking distance to a town square that offers several delicious non-chain restaurants and cafes, bars with tin ceilings, a jewelry store where we bought our shiny wedding bands, a Ben Franklin and a bakery that serves up pull apart cinnamon bread. It’s kind of awesome, and we can bike there, which makes me extremely happy. We could walk there too, but biking is far more exciting.
We stopped at the bike shop (also in the town square, and also not a chain, which is kind of a mantra for us) and tried to procure some baskets for our bicycles so that we could actually run errands via bike, but, get this, they were SOLD OUT. Yes, there are so many like minded individuals that they could not keep their baskets in stock. This, my friends, is the silver lining on the ever expanding grey cloud of gas price doom. The world, our world, our way of life, is changing. Change is good. Change keeps us from becoming drones and while I have no idea how we will make it if gas keeps climbing, because we live on a budget and it does not allow for $20 gasoline (or even $6 dollar gasoline), I know that good will come out of this. I also know that biking is a whole lot more pleasant than driving. Change is a positive, even if it seems like a negative. It keeps you on your toes and that is always a good thing.
Also a good thing . . . Love is a Mixed Tap by Rob Sheffield. Go get this book and read it STAT. It is wonderful and I cried myself stupid and resisted the urge to call Brett (I read it this weekend while I was running around the Midwest puking in JC Penney bags and he was at home painting bedrooms) and tell him all the reason I loved him and what I would put on a mixed tape to express our love. Avoid doing that to your loved one, but nevertheless, it’s more wonderful than I can say.
What’s not so wonderful is the fact that our cable package does not offer Bravo in its line-up. This is a travesty for me because I am currently missing Project Runway. I set it to record on the DVR, but then when I played it back the TV mocked me with a “press info button for subscription information.” Fuck you cable company. I knew the deal you were giving me was too good to be true.
Check out Brett’s blog for info on his birthday surprise trip with bonus picture of us in kayaks. Awesome.
Friday, July 11, 2008
white knuckles and birthday surprises
Last night’s drive home was exciting in a heart-pounding-please-don’t-let-this-be-the-end kind of way. I left my office at about 7:20pm, and Brett called me soon thereafter to inform me that a storm was pushing its way eastward, through the corn fields and into Chicago. “Eh,” I thought. “I’ll make it home before it hits.”
Then I saw in the western sky, an enormous black line of clouds, like a big space ship covering up the entirety of Northern Illinois. Seriously, it was like those space ships in Independence Day, just hovering over the farmland. Creepy.
I, of course, was headed west, directly into the impending storm, and I noted that perhaps this was not going to be as “eh” as I had thought.
Fifteen minutes later, me and my car are engulfed in the space ship like storm cloud, and the rain began to pelt my tired little car with it’s less than terrific tires. Shit. The hydroplaning began, and I held on for dear life as it became obvious that my gas peddle was doing nothing more than offering me a place to rest my foot. Seriously, I was convinced I was going to be washed away, never to be seen again.
That last mile of interstate before my exit was nothing short of terrifying. I wish I could have just pulled over, but I could barely see out the windshield for the driving rain, and I was pretty sure no one else could either. I didn’t feel like getting squashed by a semi-truck as I waited out the storm.
Basically, it sucked. End of story.
In non-terrifying news, Brett’s birthday is Tuesday. I am taking him on a surprise trip. He has an “idea” of where we’re going, but whether his “idea” is accurate has not been confirmed. I’m not telling him anything, and I considered blindfolding him for the entirety of the drive, but then I reconsidered it as I certainly don’t want to be mistaken for a kidnapper.
The only hints I gave Brett were that it was within driving distance, he need not bring any dress clothes, and he would need multiple bathing suits. So, any of you familiar with our part of the Midwest, where do you think we’re going???
Then I saw in the western sky, an enormous black line of clouds, like a big space ship covering up the entirety of Northern Illinois. Seriously, it was like those space ships in Independence Day, just hovering over the farmland. Creepy.
I, of course, was headed west, directly into the impending storm, and I noted that perhaps this was not going to be as “eh” as I had thought.
Fifteen minutes later, me and my car are engulfed in the space ship like storm cloud, and the rain began to pelt my tired little car with it’s less than terrific tires. Shit. The hydroplaning began, and I held on for dear life as it became obvious that my gas peddle was doing nothing more than offering me a place to rest my foot. Seriously, I was convinced I was going to be washed away, never to be seen again.
That last mile of interstate before my exit was nothing short of terrifying. I wish I could have just pulled over, but I could barely see out the windshield for the driving rain, and I was pretty sure no one else could either. I didn’t feel like getting squashed by a semi-truck as I waited out the storm.
Basically, it sucked. End of story.
In non-terrifying news, Brett’s birthday is Tuesday. I am taking him on a surprise trip. He has an “idea” of where we’re going, but whether his “idea” is accurate has not been confirmed. I’m not telling him anything, and I considered blindfolding him for the entirety of the drive, but then I reconsidered it as I certainly don’t want to be mistaken for a kidnapper.
The only hints I gave Brett were that it was within driving distance, he need not bring any dress clothes, and he would need multiple bathing suits. So, any of you familiar with our part of the Midwest, where do you think we’re going???
Thursday, July 10, 2008
approaching time warp
It’s storming outside at 5:16pm on this Thursday afternoon. I’m in my office, trying to finish work before I go home. I need to stay late so that I can be gone for TWO WHOLE WEEKS(!!!) in August. It’s approaching very soon, but I have a lot to do before we go.
I feel a tad nauseous today. Unfortunately my nausea is due to the bizarre foods I ate in attempt to make up for a failed lunch. I thought we had some sort of office barbeque today, but it’s actually next week, which makes me an idiot. I sauntered out of my office and out to the parking lot, expecting to find a big tent and the smell of grilling meat, but instead I saw cars. Sheepishly I hurried back to my office and re-read the damn memo. Next week.
Then I ate some yogurt, a banana, a handful of crackers and have been sucking on hard candy. I guess that’s not so bad, but I don’t feel very good nonetheless. Plus, I would like to go home now because office = lifeforce sucking machine.
I feel a tad nauseous today. Unfortunately my nausea is due to the bizarre foods I ate in attempt to make up for a failed lunch. I thought we had some sort of office barbeque today, but it’s actually next week, which makes me an idiot. I sauntered out of my office and out to the parking lot, expecting to find a big tent and the smell of grilling meat, but instead I saw cars. Sheepishly I hurried back to my office and re-read the damn memo. Next week.
Then I ate some yogurt, a banana, a handful of crackers and have been sucking on hard candy. I guess that’s not so bad, but I don’t feel very good nonetheless. Plus, I would like to go home now because office = lifeforce sucking machine.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
gravity, with pictures!
Oh man. I can’t even begin to sum up the past few days. It’s been crazy. Just crazy.
We went up to my alma mater for a birthday party and it was one of the longer nights of my life. I elected to have us stay in a quaint little bed and breakfast within walking distance of downtown Appleton, and you know what the worst place to be stupidly drunk at 2:30am is? A quaint bed and breakfast, that’s where. We stumbled in so late, and I do believe I was shoeless. I sincerely hope that we did not disturb the newly weds who were spending their first married night in the room adjacent to us. I have a sneaking suspicion that they would not understand our drunken predicament seeing as they seemed the non-drinking type. Cursed teetotalers.
Adding insult to injury was the emergency stop at a gas station somewhere on the Wisconsin/Illinois border in order for me to puke my guts out on the drive home. I’m so sorry to all patrons of that particular gas station/family diner. I really hope your kids learned an important lesson from my vulgar display of stupidity: NEVER BINGE DRINK OVER THE AGE OF 20 (actually, just don’t binge drink I suppose).
I blame it on Appleton. There is something in the air of that town that makes people drunk. I never get drunk like that unless I’m at a wedding, because I cannot get over the privilege of an open bar and feel like I owe it to the hosts to take full advantage of their generosity. Maybe that’s why my wedding invitation receipts have declined dramatically this year? Nah.
It was stupid and it took fully 2-days to get over that night and thusly I accomplished nothing productive Saturday or Sunday. In fact that only thing I did accomplish was to experience extreme insomnia Saturday night that was virtually intractable. I was worried I would never sleep again. Both Brett and I experienced this phenomenon and we both finally gave up and had sex and that seemed to do the trick. You know you’re in a long term relationship when sex is sometimes a tool for sleep as opposed to a purely pleasure seeking device.
Luckily, it worked, and we finally got to sleep around 5am.
Monday was spent packing, lifting, grunting, sweating and rigging couches to dangle off of second floor balconies until they rested gently on the ground several feet below. My man, he’s some kind of genius. Honestly, without him, the future occupant of that apartment would have a free couch because there was no way that puppy was going out the door. Also, he lowered that couch to the ground all by himself. We have pictures to prove it (note that I am doing nothing but taking pictures, which is really evidence of my uselessness in this moving/home owning thing):
We went up to my alma mater for a birthday party and it was one of the longer nights of my life. I elected to have us stay in a quaint little bed and breakfast within walking distance of downtown Appleton, and you know what the worst place to be stupidly drunk at 2:30am is? A quaint bed and breakfast, that’s where. We stumbled in so late, and I do believe I was shoeless. I sincerely hope that we did not disturb the newly weds who were spending their first married night in the room adjacent to us. I have a sneaking suspicion that they would not understand our drunken predicament seeing as they seemed the non-drinking type. Cursed teetotalers.
Adding insult to injury was the emergency stop at a gas station somewhere on the Wisconsin/Illinois border in order for me to puke my guts out on the drive home. I’m so sorry to all patrons of that particular gas station/family diner. I really hope your kids learned an important lesson from my vulgar display of stupidity: NEVER BINGE DRINK OVER THE AGE OF 20 (actually, just don’t binge drink I suppose).
I blame it on Appleton. There is something in the air of that town that makes people drunk. I never get drunk like that unless I’m at a wedding, because I cannot get over the privilege of an open bar and feel like I owe it to the hosts to take full advantage of their generosity. Maybe that’s why my wedding invitation receipts have declined dramatically this year? Nah.
It was stupid and it took fully 2-days to get over that night and thusly I accomplished nothing productive Saturday or Sunday. In fact that only thing I did accomplish was to experience extreme insomnia Saturday night that was virtually intractable. I was worried I would never sleep again. Both Brett and I experienced this phenomenon and we both finally gave up and had sex and that seemed to do the trick. You know you’re in a long term relationship when sex is sometimes a tool for sleep as opposed to a purely pleasure seeking device.
Luckily, it worked, and we finally got to sleep around 5am.
Monday was spent packing, lifting, grunting, sweating and rigging couches to dangle off of second floor balconies until they rested gently on the ground several feet below. My man, he’s some kind of genius. Honestly, without him, the future occupant of that apartment would have a free couch because there was no way that puppy was going out the door. Also, he lowered that couch to the ground all by himself. We have pictures to prove it (note that I am doing nothing but taking pictures, which is really evidence of my uselessness in this moving/home owning thing):
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