Wednesday, December 31

Farewell 2008

You were a great year:

I graduated from college.
I moved to China.
I moved home again.
I resigned from my job.
I was rehired.
I lost 15 pounds.
My mother regained her health.
My family became closer.
My friends became more dear.
My marriage became stronger.
I was brave.
I took chances.
I gained wisdom.
I'm ready for a new year, new challenge, new life.
So goodbye last year.
I loved our time together.

Tuesday, December 30

Everyone's an Idiot But Me

I often become frustrated because I feel like everyone around me is an idiot. I don't say this to be mean -- rather, I say this to vent so that I don't yell at an inappropriate time how fucking retarded everyone is. I'm also not saying this because I'm smarter than everyone. More so, this feeling comes from the inability to say what I really feel. And what I really feel, at least in the beginning, is only a mild sort of impatience with someone's actions. It has nothing to do with their intelligence (or lack thereof) but rather with situational (i.e. diplomatic) requirements which deem me dumb. Then, as the forced silence grows, so does the frustration and it eventually turns to thoughts of "everyone's an idiot but me" despite the original "offense" of the anonymous other being slight. I hate feeling like this.

I can understand why people have aneurysms and die.

Monday, December 29

It's Happening Again

I really hate dejavu.
What the hell is it?
Someone please tell me.
The brain can't make up memories that never happened.
It really creeps me out when it happens.
And I know it's totally stupid - don't judge me,
But I sometimes think:
"Oh my god, maybe we really are plugged in to some horrible "matrix" machine and our entire world and our physical bodies are nothing and dejavu is a glitch in our collective hive mind!"
But that's stupid, right?
Totally crazy.
Also, please see this cool link about other funky mind phenomena.

Saturday, December 27

The State of Love

Love is one of those unnatural things. Lust, infatuation, friendship, even liking someone - these are all normal. But true love between two adults -- two separate beings with separate thoughts and feelings -- that is incredible.

Because, you see, unlike the love between family and children, these two adults make a conscious decision to be together every day. Or, at least, they should. It's no wonder that marriages fall apart; that lovers leave; the feelings fade. Who can constantly decide that they want to breathe air or drink water? After being together for a while, for some people "a while" could be two days or two lifetimes, but whenever that period comes, people get comfortable. They get lazy. Somewhere along the way the love can turn to familial love, which is not to say that it doesn't work or that people can't be happy that way.

But it's not for me.

I'm not a great romantic. I don't like forced romantic gestures like door opening or beds of roses. But I do like choice. An adult decision to be together and accept that we choose to be together - not because it's easy or familiar or comfortable - but because we want the other one around. We want feeties in the bed, ticklish necks, hair on the shower wall, water bottles on the floor, socks everywhere, eggs and bacon in the morning, a sink full of dishes, a bed full of pillows, lots of hugs, lots of kisses, lots of I love yous, lots of fights, silliness, sadness, and love.

Chosen love.

Friday, December 26

Snowed In

This could happen to you.

Scene: Friday, December 26th 2008. 9:00 AM. Snow. A fuck load.
Tom has just departed for work.

Ring ring.
"I need you to come help dig me out."
"Are you kidding?"
"No. I'm not."
"Well, where are you?"
"Behind the garage."

Indeed. Tom pulled out of the garage and became promptly stuck. No plowermen had been by and the snow was up to the doors on the car. Now, we live in an apartment. We don't own shovels or snow removal equipment greater than a car scraper. And you must keep in mind that I am 5 feet tall. What help I was going to be in the situation was unknown -- and it actually turned out to be zero. I tried pushing the car while Tom pushed on the gas. I tried pushing the gas while Tom pushed the car. The car was well and truly stuck and I was cold.

Welcome father-in-law. Tom Sr. lives just a bit away and he drives a truck. So la dee da he comes to the rescue. I watched from the garage as Tom and Dad used shovels to save our car from imminent peril (that being snow) and then Tom brilliantly tucked the car back into the garage.

"Okay. Thanks, Dad," Tom says. "Can you take me to work now?"

Yeah - they can't leave - because now the TRUCK is stuck. Luckily, Tom Sr. has chains for just such a rescue mission gone awry scenario. I stood in the garage, watching as they both lied down in the snow, red hands fastening chains onto tires, and then watched with breath held as they drove away - hoping they wouldn't get stuck again or crash and die on the way to work.

End scene: Friday December 26th 2008. 10:00 AM.
Tom has just departed for work....again.

The moral of this story: Wow - snow really sucks ass. I hate you, snow.

Thursday, December 25

Very Merry

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on
Our troubles will be out of sight
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yule-tide gay
From now on
Our troubles will be miles away
Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more
Through the years
We all will be together
If the Fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Wednesday, December 24

And Now for the Best Part

Whilst we are tucked in our beds
Perhaps with sugar plums in our heads
The snow will fall outside

Christmas trees will be lit all night
And a jolly man prepares for the flight;
The world's best loved ride

Down chimney after chimney he will fall
Shouting, "Merry Christmas to all
and to all a good night!"

Tuesday, December 23

Deceptive December

December is almost over.

December is one of those tricky creatures; it comes quickly, leaves quickly, and you are left standing with a new year in your hands wondering where last year went.

All the trees are up.
The presents are wrapped.
Windows are lit.
And our collective breath is bated for Christmas.

Perhaps we want it to be over - no matter how much you love the season, it's a lot of work. But I sometimes find myself thinking, "Wow, what happened?" As a kidling Christmas took forever to get here. Did I lose something along the way to adulthood? Am I not able to hold on to the spirit of Christmas? They say that as you age time goes by faster and faster. It's true.

Monday, December 22


Shopping at the last minute is great.
You have had all month to plan out what you're going to buy.
So your shopping is direct and quick.
You don't hate Christmas.

Sunday, December 21

It's a Mosquito Bite

So... I would rather not talk about this, but I can't help but admit that zits are an annoyance to me. I am now a ripe old age of 25. Shouldn't zits be a long gone story? I have always been fortunate enough to have good skin - I get by with relatively little work (like washing/exfoliating/makeup/acne medication and so on) and it's not like I'm not grateful for my complexion. But any zit is a pain in the ass (er face). Lately I've been getting one huge zit on my chin. Then, as soon as that one is gone, I grow another one. Only one at a time. Red and angry. Personally, I blame all the holiday stress. Oh, and I blame the cold weather for chapping my lips which requires me to wear chapstick to bed which then gets on my chin which clogs pores and causes pimples. The worst part is that I can't stop picking at them. I peel off a layer of skin and then try to leave it alone, but the next day I'll be peeling off another layer. I think that the one zit is more obvious because it is all by itself. I smile, it smiles. I talk, it talks. Like a friend...that I hate.

Saturday, December 20

Childhood Christmas

Christmas is magical to most people because it is filled with fond memories. We continue to develop traditions even into adulthood -- but the basis of those come from childhood. My childhood Christmases are easily recalled and are, no doubt, the reason for my love of the holiday season. To me, there is an element in the air that doesn't exist at other times; something that, even though I'm grown and Christmas has lost the wonder of childish fantasies, the spirit continues. After all, Christmas is all about being childlike: giving selflessly, accepting graciously, becoming excited about silly things.

My small family did Christmas in a huge way. The entire week my mom would prep for "all" (all meaning 8) of the family to come to the house. Lots of cooking, lots of eating. We would clean and scrub and decorate. The upstairs had the beautiful tree and downstairs was the family tree - littered with our mishmash of sentimental ornaments. It used to be that we only opened one present on Christmas Eve, but somewhere along the road we ditched that and started opening EVERYTHING on Christmas Eve. The living room would be filled with wrapping paper and piles of presents. Best of all, when we woke in the morning, Santa had brought many more presents in the night.

Looking back, one of my favorite memories was Granny. She would drive herself down from Farmington in her cream Oldsmobile - always independent - and I loved to help her bring in the beautifully wrapped presents. Her arrival marked the official start of Christmas because she was the "out of town" company we prepared hardest for. The two of us used to sleep together in my bed on Christmas Eve and I remember the comfort of having someone near me. She always used a silk pillowcase to keep her hair nice. She always wore "house slippers." She always picked up pieces of whatever on the floor - no matter how hard we cleaned. She always drank a mug of hot water in the morning. She was lovely, and I miss her at Christmastime. We used to sing carols around the piano - me playing, Mom singing in her booming mezzo, Granny in her low alto. The lights from the tree illuminating the tree in a rosy glow, quiet snow outside, love on the inside.

Thursday, December 18

6th Day

Today is day #6.
I had Wednesday off and now
it's time to go back to work for another 6 days.
Lickety split.

Don't feel bad for me - I love working hard.

Wednesday, December 17

Tree Saga

I fake moved to China which caused me to give away my Christmas tree. I moved into a new apartment and wanted to have a tree. I borrowed an extra one from my parents.

It sits in a box.

Every day I plan on putting up the tree. Every day I plan on decorating it. Every day goes by without tree or decorations.

Christmas is coming soon. I hope I get it up before Christmas or I will hate myself.

Monday, December 15

Attack of the Christmas Treats

Why is it that even when everyone is busy shopping and wrapping and, in general, running around like mad people, they still find time to buy or bake delicious goodies and throw them in front of innocent passers-by?

Please stop. My willpower is only so strong and I cannot, day after day, continue to ignore yummy food everywhere I go. Where does this tradition come from? Is it because this is the time of year of excess? The time when we all celebrate our good fortune for the past year and indulge in treats and presents and give gifts and spend lots of money? And what better way to show our collective success than to gain weight? It's like in 'Fiddler on the Roof' when Topal wants a wife with 3 double chins to show how rich he is. We are all working towards our figurative (or actual) double chin during the holidays. Look at us - we can eat whatever we want! We're so prosperous! Look at all the excess!

I say: stop all the waste, stop all the unhealthy trains of treats upon treats. Instead, let's feed the hungry and not feed ourselves. We've eaten enough. Instead of sharing our good fortune with others of good fortune, let's bake goodies and buy presents for those less fortunate than ourselves. Plus, this way we can share in the holiday joy of weight loss rather than the hated holiday weight gain.

Happy holidays for all!

Sunday, December 14

Christmas Portrait

If you are looking for a most excellent Christmas CD - I recommend "Christmas Portrait" by The Carpenters. It has classics and some fun twists on old tunes. And, of course, Karen's voice carries through and makes you feel decidedly 'holiday'-ish. It also has beautiful instrumentals provided by Richard which really make the album stand out from other Christmas CDs, which are usually rubbish.

I've loved The Carpenters since I was a teenager. I was obssessed with Karen - both for her voice and for her sad story. I was immediately hooked on their "sound" and the simple beauty of their music. Their Christmas CD ties in the best of their musical talent and the magic of the holiday season.
Go. Buy. Enjoy.

By the way...please ignore the scary, big, bobble head cover art. It in no way reflects what's inside.

Saturday, December 13

New Obsession

I am absolutely addicted to the Trekking class at my gym. It's crazy - and it kicks my ass hard - but it is fantastic. I'm head over heels in love. Nothing makes you feel as good as running. Running uphill, running as fast as you can, sprinting across the imaginary finish line.

The class lasts for an hour and at the end I am exhausted but surprisingly revitalized. I've got a great natural high. And now my heart is getting super strong and healthily hearty. I've been going twice a week for more than a month now; soon my heart will be able to beat the shit out of all other hearts. Wow. Don't you wish your heart was just as strong?

I sometimes dream that I can run for miles and miles - not at a jog, but at full speed. Running free through fields and mountains, not bogged down by weight or breath.

"Wouldn't it be nice
If I could melt myself like ice
Or outrun my skin
And just be pure wind?"

Friday, December 12

12 Days Before Christmas

So, at my work Christmas is the busiest time of year. Many people have to work extra days and extra hours and it's pretty sucky for them...and us. We supervisors try to make it more fun by doing the "12 Days Before Christmas" which is where each day has a theme and we dress up or something fun. See list:
  1. Mismatched Shoe Day
  2. Christmas Trivia Day
  3. 50s Day
  4. Big Hair Day
  5. Dessert Day
  6. Luau Day
  7. Pirate Day
  8. Scarf or Sweater Day
  9. Crazy Hat and Socks Day
  10. Best Dress Day
  11. Red & Green Day
  12. Santa Hat Day

Because I'm working 6 days I will be there for all of them - with the exception of Dessert Day (thank God I'm missing that one) - and I'm planning out my wardrobe. It's a fun (albeit busy) time, but I love it!

Thursday, December 11


This is it. The last day off before the craziness of "Christmas" strikes. The last day off when I do not have anything "to do." Nowhere to run, no chores, no obligations. Only an obligation to laziness and relaxation. I am going to lay in bed all day. Sometimes I will go down to the kitchen for food, but I will eat in bed, read in bed, sleep in bed.

In bed all day.
How lovely.

Wednesday, December 10

Cave People Died at Age 30

Oh my god. We have been without the internet and TV for 5 days. I know that it doesn't seem like a long time, but it is. It is a really fucking long time.

How do people survive without the internet? How do they access their information? How do they look up show times for movies or how late stores are open or how soon that storm is moving in? How do they check their email/facebook/blog? How do they pay their bills? Do their banking? Play games?

Cave people died young. Their lives were really hard because they were always foraging for food and trying to kill mammoths for food and trying not to become food. Also, they did not have TV or internet. So basically: when they weren't trying to stay alive, they were bored witless. No wonder they died so young. Their lives sucked ass. Think about how much more enjoyable their life would have been if they had "Friends" to watch. Or if they could join and find a more compatible mate - one that would not be upset about trying to get the mastodon smell out of the rug.Our life is decidedly "techish" but I'm not one to complain because I'm not dying at the age of 30 and I'm not bored. I don't mind being semi-dependent on technology because I'm also semi-dependent on oxygen - and to me, there is little difference. A contestant on "Survivor" said that they enjoyed their time because they were able to "detox from technology." Okay, what? Technology is in our lives to better it. It does not control us. We control IT. It is a tool for us to use and use to excess if that is what we choose. Sometimes people tell me that they don't like having a cell phone because they hate the feeling that they can always be contacted, bugged, pestered, and so on. And to those people I say: don't answer your phone. It's that simple. We can use tech stuff to make our lives better and when we don't want to use it, we can put it away. I don't feel that it controls our lives, it simply takes us far and away from cavemen. We've evolved and it's fabulous.

Tuesday, December 9


Please help me find the following items for my household:

  • garbage cans - perfect in size and shape; non-offensive color; not too pricey (after all, it's for garbage)
  • soap dispensers - beautiful and interesting; each shaped differently; color coordinated with its corresponding room
  • dishes - red or with hints of red; modern or classic design (makes no difference); not too heavy; microwavable;
I've been searching high and low - but perhaps you have seen something higher or lower that meets these criteria. I want something I love love love but the search is wearing me down.

Sunday, December 7

Holiday Madness

My work is crazy
Christmas is coming
6-day work week is coming
Overtime is coming
I love the madness
It feels like Christmas...

Friday, December 5

Sleeping on the Floor

The bed is supposed to be a haven; beautiful bedding complete with piled pillows, blankets, and a comfy mattress. It also helps to have a comfy sleeper next to you. Currently, our box springs and mattress are on the floor. I hate this for many reasons, one being that, while I'm sure there is no difference, I feel like I'm not sleeping as well as I usually do. My neck feels quirky, my back stiff, my shoulders squishy. But the main problem is a twofold problem: I can't put up the bedframe because it is so old we can't move it once it's up and I don't yet know where I want to bed to go so I guess we'll just keep sleeping on the floor until I make up my mind. Hopefully my mind won't get a crick in it...

Thursday, December 4

Burds Nesting

Our new apartment is lovely.
And we're filling it with lovely things:
Our old bed which is my old bed
Classic loveseat
Modern chair
Beautiful soap dispensers
Soothing garbage cans
Method handsoap
Packed pantry
Square plates
Interesting glasses
The best pots and pans
Fuzzy rugs
Glass-handle shower curtain rings
Leafy curtain
Dove soap
Color-coordinated closet
Folded pants
Rows of shoes
Piles of blankets
Burd table

Welcome Home.

Wednesday, December 3

The Jazz Lost

I hate sports, pretty much all of them...maybe not the Olympics. But we went to the Jazz game tonight because it was free. It was pretty fun -even though the Jazz lost and I was told that the Jazz were pretty good and that the home team should almost always win. But anyway. Here are some things I don't know about basketball:
  1. What the "end zone" is called - but I know it's not the end zone because Tom laughed at me.
  2. How long does the score clock go for?
  3. Who's job is it to reset the score clock?
  4. What the fouls are for - I suggested "fumbling" which got another round of laughter.
  5. The names of any players - the only Jazz guy I know is "Boozer" and he wasn't there for some reason. Probably because he knew they were going to lose.
  6. I don't understand the comic I chose.

Tuesday, December 2

Moving In?

So, the apartment that we've been waiting to move into for like 2 months called today and told us that we could move in.


Wait, not quite yet. Tom almost wanted to change his mind about taking the new place when he found out that the ONLY internet option available was Qwest. DSL. Lame.

I know that the internet is not the be-all end-all of the world, but it almost is. How can one function without superfast internet? Information at the touch of a button, blogging, movie times, shopping, TV shows, email, chatting, and on and on. How is it possible that parts of the world are not yet operating on lightning fast cable internet? I hate waiting for civilization to be 100% civilized.

We're taking the apartment - it's too good to pass up. But you can now call us "The Slowskys."

Sunday, November 30

Bodies Are Stupid

Dear Body:

Lately, I hate you.
You make me sad.
Why have you stopped doing what I say?
Please get with the program - or I will ditch you
and find a new.

Saturday, November 29

On the Back

Sometimes the most surprising things throw me. My grandpa died in March of 2007. This will be the 2nd Christmas without him. And yet, it still feels like the first. I remember the last Christmas we were all together like it was a couple days ago. We all sat in the living room with the tree. My grandpa and I were smashed together on the couch. I would periodically rest my head on his shoulder, or pat his leg. He was quiet, but only because we were all happy together. My mom and dad gave him a bed-in-a-bag and it made his pile of presents huge. He kept trying to keep them all arranged in a nice pile. He was always a neat person - he would fold up wrappers from candy bars or wrappers from a burrito into an amazingly tiny square. When I was small I was amazed at how much water he could wring out from a washcloth. His hands were strong and capable, even as he aged. And he moved them with a sort of solid deliberateness that did not leave him until he was very sick. He was a lefty, and at Thanksgiving we always made jokes about his elbows bumping ours.

This year when I arrived at my old home for Thanksgiving dinner, my mom brought out 2 pictures, nearly identical. One is of a small baby sitting on the lap of a smiling man in a maroon lazyboy. The other, the same scene, only the baby wears a large grin. As my mom handed them to me, I smiled and made some "oh" sound. But I couldn't talk about the pictures for too long, couldn't say how grateful I was. The pictures immediately began to draw tears up from wherever it is grief hides.

My grandpa's hands, those same true hands, are wrapped around my infant waist, supporting me. His legs are casual, one up on the seat, the other on the floor. Every detail of the picture reminds me of things lost; his hands, his house slippers, the maroon lazyboy he would often fall asleep in (my grandma pointing to him and saying "Pa" to wake him), the soft grin on his face. And saddest of all, on the back of the photos reads "Harold + Johanna Rose 1983" in his swirling left handed cursive.

It's all quite bittersweet. I love the snapshots so much. He and I had a special relationship; it was always sweet. No anger, nothing ever needed to forgive. The pictures, taken the year I was born, show the beginning of our friendship. He and I together. Grandpa was already retired and he took care of me several days a week through my toddler years. He never made me feel guilty if I was selfish and didn't visit as often as I should. He trusted me with his car when I had just been given my learner's permit. He was infinitely patient with me, with my grandma and her illness, with his own children. He was quiet and loving and intelligent and so wonderful - it's impossible to describe.

So I'm keeping the pictures, but I can't frame them. I'm keeping them in a plastic bag because I like to be able to see the back; the living part of the photo where he wrote our names together.

Thursday, November 27

Give Thanks

I live my life at a semi-whirlwind pace...when I'm not napping.
But life is not going by so fast that I do not
to breathe
and give thanks -

For my mother's life,
My father's love,
My brother's giggle,
The ability to be myself,
A magical marriage,
Friends and family,
Wit and wisdom,
And a beautiful world.

Wednesday, November 26

Shopping List

I'm a weird procrastinator. I will wait until the specified time I've designated in my own mind and then at that point, everything must be done. Of course, the designated point is generally the day/hour/minute before absolute breakdown. For example: shopping for Thanksgiving. I'm making all the side dishes and my mom is making the turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes. So, I have a lot of cooking to do and that means I have a lot of shopping to do because Tom and I don't have random Thanksgivingy foods lying about. I don't like to go this close to "the day" because it is usually a mad house with lots of women out for blood for the last cube of butter and then it's a race to a long line at the checkout stand but my procrastination told me to go today...and I have no say in the matter. To my joy - my local grocer had each and every checkout line open! Yay! Go team!

I love it when things work out in my favor.

Tuesday, November 25

Needless Turkey Murder Day

I love Thanksgiving - but as a vegetarian - I must make a point of reminding everyone that millions of turkeys (and other poultry and livestock) are murdered for the consumption of human beings every year. Don't hate me; I, like many people, enjoy seeing the beautifully roasted turkey pulled out of the oven and lovingly coated with gravy to be devoured because it's tradition. But the cost is not worth it. I don't want to talk about it for too long because it upsets me and I don't want to ruin my own festive season, so may I simply (and un-soapboxily) suggest reading some literature?
The majority of people have turned down a vegetarian lifestyle on the basis that "everyone eats meat." We all grow up eating meat, hearing that it's part of a "well balanced diet" and hearing about how healthy it is for us. But the norm isn't always the best for us. Used to be that "everyone smoked" or "everyone had unprotected sex."

I say: educate yourself and then you can make an informed decision. And if you don't switch to vegetarianism after your education, you can at least feel guilty while you eat murdered animals. :D I mean, I feel guilty that I'm not yet a vegan...

Hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Monday, November 24

Female Independence

What is the deal with being married? I swear, if some corporation/institution finds out I'm married, I get put on the back burner and they want to deal with my husband. When we moved into our apartment they wanted to know Tom's information even though I was the primary earner. They wanted to know what his income was (which was practically nill because he was going to school) and I told them so and they were like "what the fuck" and couldn't wrap their teeny tiny brains around it. If it were the other way around and I was the student and HE was the primary earner, they wouldn't think twice about the situation. But because it's me and I'm a girl (obviously helpless and in need of male support) and I'm married they always fall back to the husband.

A couple years ago we added each other to our separate (but equal) bank accounts. Well, sometimes I hate it. Only because if I'm on his account they ALWAYS want his permission. I understand that this is a safeguard in case one of us goes crazy and wants to spend all the money. Or perhaps if we are going through a nasty divorce and we want to cut the other one off from all the funds. But this is not us. We are stable. We are like a semi-single unit of thought. We make decisions together - but we don't need to actually BE together when the deed needs to be done.

Case in point - refinancing our car loan. We had already done all the paperwork and preliminary gobbledy gook hand in hand at the branch. Then, on Monday when it was time to finish it off, I left Tom at home thinking "I'll just take care of this realy quick." But no. They needed him there "of course" (Jesus, why would I think I could do it myself?) and once I got him there they acted like I was a rug.

Here's another example: I called to set up the utilites at our new apartment. I told her my name and gave her my social and blah blah blah. Then she asks "and your husband's name?" and I'm thinking, "Is that relevant?" I mean, I can't even have a utility bill in my own name? We've got to add him on just in case I default or decide to stop working so that I can have babies? Give me a break. I live in a world where women AND men are individuals who are capable of doing a lot of shit on their own. Just because Tom and I are married doesn't mean we're one person (despite the fact that we are usually with the other) and I should be able to - just sometimes - operate as a single unit. If I weren't married, would they ask for my dad's information? It's ridiculous. And quite frankly, it pisses me off.

Sunday, November 23

Something Blue

My Tom loves to eat macaroni and cheese of the blue box variety. It is one of his usual after work meals that I usually prepare for him. However, on Saturday nights after having not eaten all bloody day, I am in no mood to cook up delicious cheesy pasta for anyone - regardless of how much I love them (yes, I will be a very mean mother). But tonight is Sunday and I have a satisfied belly so am in a much more amiable mood.

I always take out the pot and start the water boiling. I salt the water generously and put the burner on high. Once the water is at a hearty bubble, I throw in the noodles (only spiral or character shaped - NO elbows for us) and turn down the heat. After soft to the bite, the water gets drained and in go milk (an extra splash for good measure), faux margarine (the extra healthy, no trans-fat, no hydrogenated, plus omega 3s, plus flax seed crap), and cheese packet. Mix it up and then comes the best part: my test bite. Every time I make Tom's m and c I get one spoonful of cheesy, milky, piping hot noodles. You know, to make sure I made it right.

I gave up eating macaroni and cheese pretty much at birth. An adolescence of dance equals an adolescence of weight worries - so I always abstained from those "fattening" dishes - like macaroni and cheese. Plus, as a kid we never really had box mac and cheese at the house. When Tom and I were in high school and a mutual friend of ours invited us rappelling, Tom told me he would bring lunch for us. We had spent many late night conversations discussing all of the things we liked and disliked - and of course, this dish came up - especially because it was (and still is) one of the only things he could cook. He told me that he makes the BEST macaroni and cheese because he always pushes the noodles into the water with the bottom of the box, and he always adds a little extra milk. Once we were at the cliff, I was too scared to go down the mountain (big surprise) and so we sat in the car at the bottom of the rock face and ate his delicious macaroni and cheese cold.

We always have our pantry stocked with blue boxes - ready for making and remembering all the little reasons we fell in love.

Saturday, November 22

I Heart Hearts

Artichoke hearts, my love - to you I say: yum.
You are very delicious and nutritious and high in fiber.
I buy you in bulk at Costco.
I bring you home and ask Tom to open your jar.
He complains because the marinade gets on his hands.
I pour all the marinade down the drain.
I refrigerate you and enjoy at my leisure.

Again, yum.

Friday, November 21


I have a bad habit of starting projects - or sometimes not even starting them - and then not finishing. I have no follow through. This is one of my worst qualities and I try not to become discouraged and start hate-ing myself. After all, I am an Aries (not that I believe in that crap) and inability to finish projects and birth in April apparently go hand in hand. Maybe someone can help me? Yeah, no. Another Aries trait (again, I claim disbelief) is independence. I will get around to these projects, finish them on my own, and they will be just as fabulous as if they were timely.

List of unfinished projects (order indicating nothing):

  • crochet Mom's quilt from last Christmas before this Christmas
  • sew Kenley's baby blanket (who will be 2 in January)
  • crochet a co-worker's scarf
  • finish piecing the quilt for our bed
  • crochet hats and scarves for the homeless

Thursday, November 20

Purse vs. Wallet

Many days I consider myself quite fortunate to be a girl. Most particularly, when Tom is running around looking for items like keys, wallet, badge, etc., when I can simply pick up my purse and be out the door. Not only are purses a fashion statement that is incredibly functional and versatile, but they are, let's face it, a dumping ground for all the little things that make life run smoothly.

I'm currently using a Dooney & Bourke bucket bag that was a gift from my mom-in-law for graduation. I absolutely love it - especially the fact that I can simply chuck crap in there and know that it is safe. Currently in my bag:
  1. iPhone
  2. "Duchess of Devonshire"
  3. Trident Whitening Gum - peppermint flavor
  4. Victoria's Secret Beauty Rush lip gloss
  5. headphones
  6. glasses case (with glasses within)
  7. sunglasses (not in case)
  8. throat lozenges
  9. mirror
  10. water bottle
  11. lip liner
  12. tampon
  13. iPod Nano
  14. pen

See? A man could never have this type of convenience - unless he carried a fanny pack - and then he would be shunned by society.

Of course, there are various downsides to having a purse. Namely: you have a bag all the time. You are never as free as "man with wallet" because you are toting on your shoulder "responsibility." My husband likes to use my purse when we go to the movies; as soon as we sit and the lights dim his wallet and keys and receipts and various bits of paper in his pockets become lost in the depths of my purse. And after the movie comes the inevitable digging about for his lost articles. But women don't have the luxury of putting things in their pockets because societal fashion deems women's pants be "hugging" and anything other than a stick of gum will be totally obvious. Also, when you have a purse you keep adding to your load. You think to yourself, "Oh, this will fit, I will just throw this or that in" and next thing you know, lifting your purse causes tennis elbow, engorged biceps, and defined triceps. Another annoyance connected with purses is when the damn thing tips over. My purse does not zip so a tip-over spills the contents all about. It's dreadful.

These negatives associated with purses are small problems that are easily overlooked when you take into account all the freedom purses allow for. When you have a purse you need never worry, as long as it is well stocked and fashionable.

Wednesday, November 19

Scrambled Eggs

Tom loves to have eggs and bacon for breakfast. I like to make it because it is quick and easy. Eggs are a great way to get some low calorie protein and they are incredibly versatile.
  • Over easy with toast
  • Poached
  • Over medium
  • Fried egg sandwiches
  • Egg salad
  • Boiled
  • Deviled eggs
  • Scrambled
Scrambled are the best because they are the easiest not to screw up. If you're a beginner, start with scrambled. Plus, making scrambled eggs is a beautiful, relaxing way to start the day. Here's how to make the most delicious eggs you will ever eat:
  • Start your pan on med/low heat
  • Add a tab of butter or margarine
  • Crack your eggs into a cup
  • Break the yolks with a fork
  • Whip the eggs until there is no distinction between yolk and white
  • Add a little milk
  • Dump into the pan
  • Add salt and pepper
  • Leave the eggs alone until the edges firm up
  • Using your spatula/wooden spoon pull the firm edges into the center, allowing the liquidy parts to seep out to the edge of the pan
  • Repeat until the eggs are firm but still shiny


Tuesday, November 18


We have to read this book.

Apparently it can make you pass out - like one of my employees at work on Sunday night - when you listen to it. The book is titled "Haunted" and it is a series of short stories within a frame story. The characters within the frame story write the short stories contained within and it seems like all the tales and the characters are an odd combination of semi-deviant sexuality and scariness.

I guess the story that causes people to pass out (titled "Guts") begins with the line "hold your breath" and either the people are dumbasses and are actually holding their breath, or the story's gruesomeness is very effective. You can read more about it here...but I warn you - just the description is pretty graphic. Said employee was listening to this story when he started to feel "queasy and disturbed" so he turned it off. The next thing he knew my co-worker was standing over him. The girl sitting next to him said that he sort of slumped over and they couldn't get him to respond to them. By the time we got down to him, he was conscious but super green in the face - like he had no blood whatsoever.

We have to read this book. I mean, I hate scary stories and all that stuff, but this is some sort of weird urban legend thing like "The Ring" or "The Grudge" (both of which I have never seen) and we need to do a social experiment on ourselves and either listen to the audiobook or read it and see what all the fuss is about. Who's with me?

Monday, November 17

The Toilet Seat

Went to yoga yesterday and apparently something we did made my hamstrings super sore. Now, not only do sore hamstrings make walking/running/sitting/moving in general pretty slow and painful, but the toilet seat is a killer.

Toilet seats are shaped in such a way that the hamstring is gooshed out all over. If the seats were normal chairs you would feel a little discomfort, sure. But the slight oval and the height of the chair makes it so you come crashing down on the most painful part of your body.

And I drink A LOT of water so I hate the toilet seat today.

Sunday, November 16

Half a Pound


I gained half a pound this week.
I think I celebrated my good fortune too soon.
Now I must punish myself in preparation for next week.


Saturday, November 15

8s Tag

Okay, I normally hate this tag bullshit. But I'm bored and this should be quick and painless. Also, this "8s Tag" only had 6 topics. What the fuck? I added 2 more. If you already did your 8 but it was actually only 6 - you better do the 2 I added.

8 Fears
  1. Scary movies
  2. Spiders
  3. Mirrors in a dark room
  4. Tom's death
  5. Nightmares you can't wake up from
  6. Vacuuming while home alone
  7. Childbirth
  8. Falling from a great height

8 Favorite Movies

  1. Pulp Fiction
  2. Fight Club
  3. Marie Antoinette
  4. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
  5. Closer
  6. Moulin Rouge
  7. Lost in Translation
  8. Clue

8 Pet Peeves

  1. Women with mustaches
  2. Panty lines
  3. Nose breathers
  4. Dirty fingernails
  5. Bad dye jobs
  6. Ear and nose hair
  7. Pit stains
  8. Crumbs on the counter

8 Favorite TV Shows

  1. Friends (duh)
  2. Sex and the City (duh, again)
  3. Bones
  4. Battlestar Galactica
  5. Damages
  6. Pushing Daisies
  7. Entourage
  8. The Closer

8 Favorite Restaurants

  1. Mimi's Cafe
  2. Mee Kong Cafe
  3. Olive Garden
  4. Happy Sumo
  5. Rumbi
  6. Taco Time
  7. Cafe Rio
  8. Rubio's

8 Things That Happened Yesterday

  1. I took a shower
  2. I went to work
  3. I was bored
  4. I packed a pot pie for Tom's lunch
  5. I had a meeting
  6. I was paid overtime
  7. I walked
  8. Kenley called me

8 Things to Look Forward to

  1. Being thin
  2. Moving into the new apartment
  3. Finishing projects (like quilts and blankets and scarves)
  4. New season of 'Damages'
  5. Buying furniture
  6. Writing
  7. Thanksgiving
  8. Christmas

8 Things On My Wish List

  1. World travel
  2. Education
  3. Fulfillment
  4. A Wii
  5. Continued health
  6. A pet
  7. End hunger
  8. World peace


Friday, November 14

Ruggedly Good

Saw the new James Bond movie. Daniel Craig does not disappoint either with his acting nor with his appearance. I grew up with the Brosnan version of Bond, and I thought he was great. But that was until Daniel Craig entered my life. I know that some people out there do not think he is a good Bond - he's too this or too that.

These people are wrong.

Daniel Craig is tough - the toughest James Bond ever. He has no wimpiness whatsoever. And his face is ruggedly handsome, like he's so good looking he doesn't ever have to try and even if the lack of trying makes him a little uglier, it doesn't matter because it actually makes him sexier. Weird how that works, huh? It's really sexy how he throws his body around and just punches people and kills them without caring. None of that "shaken, not stirred" nonsense, just drinking, shooting, killing, and looking damn good. That's the real James Bond. And I love him.

Thursday, November 13


God, I was so bored today, despite having accomplished quite a bit:
  • laundry
  • dishes
  • tidy up the bedroom
  • make the bed
  • blogging

So to save myself I went to Target and shopped around. I bought some discount shirts. Yay. Sometimes I hate my days off because I get incredibly bored even if I have plenty of things to do. Does this happen to anyone else?

Wednesday, November 12

Making the Bed

Tom has an unfortunate habit of kicking the sheets out of the mattress. You see, my Granny taught me that when you make the bed you tuck the sheets in all around - making beautiful folds at each edge. This also creates a delicious envelope in which one can sleep. But Tom prefers "cocoon" to envelope, so he thrashes his legs about until the sheets pull free and uses them to create a cocoon of bedding.

And this makes the bed a cluster fuck.

As much as I love making the bed and buying numerous sets of sheets to make our bed a haven, I really hate the daily rearranging and remaking. I like to sleep in a bed where the sheets are pulled tight and the blankets are smoothed over your sleeping body. When you wake the bed is still nearly made and needs only to be lightly tugged back into perfection. Instead, the bed looks like a pile of laundry in the morning and the task of making it all over again stares me in the face. I just look the other way...

PS: This is a picture of someone's ACTUAL bed. Let me just say - their bedding is hideous. Ick.

Tuesday, November 11


God damn. Jen (my sister-in-law) and I have decided to start going to this crazy ass running class at our gym. It is very cardio intense and goes something like this:
  • brisk walk for 5 minutes
  • up the incline and up the speed
  • continue upping the speed and incline
  • then, drop the incline and start running
  • run for a long time
  • then jog uphill
  • then run full speed uphill
  • then run around the gym (we usually skip that part)
  • now walk fast uphill
  • do jumping jacks
  • skip
  • walk
  • now die

Doesn't that sound lovely? Yeah, not so much. I really hate the class, but it does what it's supposed to - that is, kick ass - so we keep going. Twice a week. Bleh.

Monday, November 10

I'm Glad It's Raining

Because that means it's not snowing.

It is difficult to see the positive side of a cold, rainy morning, but it is possible. Don't you think it would be worse to step into a pile of frozen flakes rather than a cold puddle? The snow getting stuck in your shoe and clumping on the hem of your pants. I mean, I think snow is beautiful and everything, but only when you're inside, or perhaps when you're bundled up warm. When you're on your way to work, however, snow is not okay. It sticks to the car. So you have to wipe off the car. And you're on your way to work so you're wearing a dress or perhaps thin dress pants. And your shoes aren't the best for trekking through the snow. And maybe, even worse, you have to scrape the ice off of the windshield. The roads are thick with traffic because the snow is sticking to the ground and everyone is driving pathetically slow to prevent sliding into other vehicles. So your drive to work is a stress filled 30 minutes. And then you're late.

And that's why I hate snow. And why I'm glad it's raining.

Sunday, November 9

Sweet Smell

Ta da! I did it. I have, for 8 consecutive weeks, lost 1.5 lbs every week - equaling a grand total of 12 lbs. Yay! And, the best part, I am now the proud owner of $33 that I didn't have before. It's like someone paid me to lose weight and look better. Who can beat that? I love this weekly weigh-in thing. And I guess it's a good thing because I'm doing another 8 week-long contest with my work friends.

Starting right now.

Saturday, November 8

Hungry Hippo

I am fucking starving.
A hole from my stomach to the outside world is slowly occurring.
I hate myself right now.

Friday, November 7


So, you know how this blog is like a chore? I mean, a chore in the sense that it is a writing exercise that I give myself to see if I will ever have the stamina to be a professional writer because they write and write for hours on end. I try to write everyday. Obviously, I'm not very successful. And the chore of writing is making my mind lash out at myself, I suppose.

I've started writing poetry again.

I know poetry is not everyone's cup of tea. Often, it isn't even what I serve at my tea parties, but sometimes one wants the lyrical magic of stanzas, alliteration, rhyme, rhythm, and so on. Perhaps it is because as a child I wrote pages of poems - silly rhymes and nonsense streams of words with similar sounds, gifts given to family members were poems about their name or their traits - but it pleases me to write outside of the proverbial prose box. I like to wrap my mind up in the sound of words. I like to read poetry and analyze how the words work together, and I also like to simply listen to the way they sound - leaving behind all my poetic theory.

To turn the language into something more than words is a best loved hobby. To take life and express it in a beautiful mystical way is why the world loves language. And why we keep writing. To find the perfect words in the perfect order.

Thursday, November 6

Speaking of Legs

Yeah. Mine are incredibly short and stocky.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that I have "cankles" because even thought my legs are not long and luxurious, they are still shapely and slightly firm. However, I am glad that my husband is not a "leg man" because my legs aren't long and luxurious.

Sometimes I think about how it would be to buy "regular" length pants or not have to hem dress pants or not have my hems become frayed. Or I will sometimes imagine that simply crossing my legs is the sexiest thing alive because they are slim and nine miles long. But these are short (haha) lived and fleeting.

I work very hard not to hate my legs. I have, like many flawed people, embraced my legs and tried to make them endearing to myself (and hopefully others) in different ways:

  1. I wear skirts
  2. I wear tights
  3. I don't wear shorts
  4. I wear pants
  5. I wear high heels
  6. I wear tube socks at home

See - rather than try to hide my stumpy legs, I try to show them off in cutesy ways. This makes people associate them with "little" or "child-like" or "adorable" rather than seeing them as "unremarkable." Perhaps in a future life I will have the legs to be a model or a ballerina, but in the meantime I will settle for using what I've got to the best of my ability.

Wednesday, November 5

President Elect

Congratulations, Obama.

I can't wait for you to move into the White House because you and your family are adorable and I love the 4 of you so much. You have restored my faith in the American family and the American public and the American ideal that a person can DO what they want and BE what they want no matter what.

Thank you.

Tuesday, November 4