A Conversation

When you've known someone for a long time (say, 9 years) and you hang out a lot (because you still love them) you start to provide a service to each other. That service being, acting as the other's overfill brain for random information, and if not able to provide the exact information, at least you can be a jumping off point for coherent thought processes. Example:

Tom: Who sings this song?

Me: I'm not sure...

Tom: Rihanna?

Me: No.

Tom: Cialis?

Me: I don't know who that is.

Tom: Oh - nevermind. Cialis is that male impotency drug.

Social Life

I'm booked. If you want to hang out or see a movie or talk to me on the phone, you better make an appointment. My love-ing husband has scheduled some sort of something on my weekend (that's Wednesday/Thursday) for the next 3 weeks.
Wow. We almost never have anything to do because my days off suck ass. Maybe the world is starting to revolve around my weekend...

Rustling Noise

I'm sitting in a meeting and over the sound of my manager's voice, I can hear some sort of rustling sound. I am unsure of what the sound is - but it sounds slightly human. I shift my gaze around the table, looking for the source of the noise, and I land my eyes on one of my co-workers. He is breathing through his nose so loudly that I can hear his nose breath over the sound of human speech. He sounds like a dog on the hunt, or maybe a pre-septoplasty individual. What exactly is going on? Did he just finish running a marathon? Is his mouth suddenly sewn shut and he is in a slight state of panic, causing him to breathe extra heavily?

It makes no sense.

And now, every time I work with this individual, I hear his loud nose breathing. I have previously written about how much I hate mouth breathers, and now I must add loud nose breathers to that list. Which is the lesser of the two evils? I'm not sure. Perhaps people should just breathe normal...

Indulgence

So, as you all know, I'm dieting. And life in general is pretty shitty. But - today I went over to my mom's house and she made me a salad that she had a dream about. No matter what diet I'm on, I can't turn down dream salad made by my mommy. It was so delicious; I ate a couple of helpings. I couldn't help myself! I was deep in salad love.

Recipe for Mom's Dream Salad:

Pasta - 1lb Rigatoni
Artichoke Hearts
Home Grown Tomatoes
Parmesan Cheese
Cucumbers
Granny's Homemade Italian Dressing

Heaven.

100th

Ta Da!

Welcome to the 100th post,
which is nothing about
the number 100
or posting
and yet is all about both.

Fascinating.

Love, Johanna

Pile it On

In my heart of hearts, I really don't like this time of year because it starts to freeze in the morning and at night. But there is one thing I love - and that is the chill in the air that brings out blankets.

I pile them on the bed; duvet, then a quilt, and maybe an extra throw. It is so comforting to cuddle in bed and watch television and have to push down all the bedding in order to see the screen. The bed becomes super soft and it invites you to fall asleep and stay asleep for hours. So even though the weather is taking a turn for the worse, the bed is there to aid in hibernation.

A Stink

My workplace is built on some sort of stink factory. Every night, without fail, around 7 or 8 PM a hideous odor begins to slink its way into our noses. The smell is a strange mix of manure and fresh poo from some farm animal - so that it is both fresh and ripe, yet stale and pungent. It's very odd. And stinky. Many employees complain about the stink and I don't know what to tell them. How best to say that apparently our building is built on the bog of eternal stench and that for the rest of our working career at that building it will continue to seep into the foundation and continue its reign of stink? Worst of all, you can't breathe through your mouth to alleviate the intensity of the odor because then you just taste it - and you know that the air is teeming with microscopic particles of shit...or maybe a decomposing body. Sick.

A funny story, though, has managed to come out of the stink hour:

My two friends are working. One of them farts, despite trying to get away and hide their fart. My other friend (the non-farter) says, "Oh no, here comes that farm smell." And then continues to complain about the smell (which is NOT coming from the farm) with exclamations like: "Oh, I hate that smell" and "It stinks soooo bad, don't you think so?" Ha ha.

Onions Ruin Everything

I went to Mimi's Cafe this morning, despite needing to weigh in tomorrow. Even my strong will caves under the prospect of yummy red potatoes, honey oat bran muffins, fluffy eggs, and best of all, delicious never-bitter coffee. In general, I order an omelette of some vegetarian kind and that comes with choice of juice, choice of muffin, and side of aforementioned red potatoes.

Muffin: Honey oat bran

Juice: Tomato

Omelette: Santa Fe 5 Alarm!

So, I've had this omelette before and it is very spicy and tasty. However, in the midst of my glee at being at Mimi's, I forgot to order it sans onions. As soon as the plate sat down in front of me I knew something was wrong. First of all, the omelette was huge. Fuller and bigger than usual. I cut into it and could immediately smell that unmistakable stink of onion. Onions are gross. I hate them. My entire breakfast was ruined by this potent vegetable because I had to keep picking them out and shoving them to one side. It was like an onion omelette - and once the onions were out, there wasn't a lot left. I'm very sad.

Under Where?

Ladies out there: let me introduce you to my friend - the thong.

Don't be frightened. The thong is not your enemy, nay, it is your new best friend. Panty lines are only sexy if you're only wearing panties. We don't want to see your granny ass underwear outline poking through your pants/skirts/ski pants. Underwear is supposed to be a private thing. I mean, you wouldn't wear a lacy bra with a t-shirt, would you?

Now, if you really really hate the thong, you can try the boy short. These differ from the thong in that they provide full coverage - so full, in fact, that they eliminate panty lines in most pants, shorts, capris, and even skirts. But beware, if you're wearing something super tight or if you lack sufficient junk in the trunk, they'll still be noticable (perhaps even more so than regulars). Just TRY the thong and see the difference. Your clothes slide on, no gripping or sticking on bulky panties, and your behind always shows its most attractive non-lined side.

Best advice is: wear a thong and you'll never go wrong.

Bones

For those of you who may not know, there is a fantastic show out there called 'Bones.' It is wonderful and if you aren't watching - you better start if you want to be my friend. It is better than all those other "crime dramas" and whatnot, because the crime isn't the focus of the show. It isn't about neat effects and superdrama. It is all about forensic anthropoligist and Smithsonian extraordinaire Temperance "Bones" Brennan and FBI agent Seeley Booth and the people they work with and the dead/disfigured/mangled/melted/decomposed bodies they find.

Watch it.

I anxiously await for the new episode to come out and I enjoy it, laughing at something Bones said that no one got. For example: last week the veterinarian's assistant they were interviewing used the word "enervating" incorrectly - which Temperance pointed out to her. Then, later in the episode, the vet-tech talked about being tired and debilitated and Temperance said "that's enervating." Classic Bones.

Again, watch it. You won't regret it because it's lovely. And for you television snobs out there (because I know plenty) perhaps you would prefer to start with the Temperance Brennan series by Kathy Reichs which is loosely based on Kathy Reichs' experiences as an actual forensic anthropologist. Wow. How cool is that?

Foaming at the Mouth

Please swallow.

There is nothing more disgusting than someone who speaks and spits and seems to have an excess amount of saliva flying out of their mouth at all times. Is there something wrong with swallowing? Perhaps swallowing is suddenly "so out" and drooling is in?

Well, if this is the case, count me in the out crowd. I swallow. I love swallowing so much I do it on a regular basis. This simple action helps me maintain a mouth that is not overflowing with spit, but is, instead, a fantastically polite part of my body which can offend only by the words coming out of it; not raining on my audience.

Now, I am well aware that some people's salivary glands work overtime. And for you, I sympathize. You are the people who hate to fall asleep in class because you wake up with a track of drool down your face and to the desk. You are the people who gleek when giving a long speech or lecture. You are the people who, when excitedly debating, must apologize for spitting on your friend. The unintended sleep-drooling can't be helped - but please, when you're speaking to me, swallow.

Eat With Me

I'm doing ANOTHER 8 week long weekly weigh-in competition with my friends at work. Gag me. Here's what I'm eating:

• 3 Eggs
• 1 Slice of 45 Calorie Whole-Grain Bread
• 1 Slice of Cheese
• 1 Fruit
• 1 Sugar-Free Pudding
• 1 Vegetable
• Southwestern Style Veggie Soup

God, I'm going to hate my life for the next 8 weeks. Well, my food life, that is.

On the plus side, I didn't have to pay $100. Yay!

Test Drive

You know what is fun? Don't have kids - just borrow them. Today I took my niece to the mall. I had to babysit her anyway, so I figured we might as well have a good time. We were there for about 2 hours, just strolling around and browsing. I asked her if she liked the shoes I tried on, to which she replied, "Yeah." (Of course, I don't believe anyone under the age of 2, so I didn't buy them.) I don't see why people are always saying their kids are so difficult - I mean, 2 hours is the same as a lifetime, right?. She was practically silent the entire time; just some cooing and ooing and googling at the water fountain. People commented on how cute she was, then they'd look at me with a puzzled smile - not understanding why my kid was white (as I am clearly not white) and not understanding why I don't know the exact age of my own child. But it didn't matter because we just went on our merry way. Happy and shopping. I did make a few observations on our experience:

• It takes a while to get the stroller out and the kid in
• I had to keep getting out more goldfish/animal crackers from the diaper bag
• The stroller bumped into a lot of shit because my stroller steering skills are at like level 1
• The kid wanted to share lunch with me. What?
• I had to use the elevator
• When you get out to the car you have to start the car and AC, put the kid in the car seat, then put the stroller in - being sure to triple check that the doors are both open and unlocked - just in case something goes horribly wrong
• They will fall asleep on the drive home and you will not be able to take them out without waking them...sorry, Mom

All in all, it was a lovely day. Maybe we'll try for kids in a few years.

Sleepless in Salt Lake

It is said that those who sleep with others (as in married people) do not sleep as well as solo sleepers. I do not believe this. Tom is in Colorado walking door to door for the Obama campaign and I'm stuck here working. I've been trying to keep myself busy by going out late with friends after work, attempting to delay the inevitable: coming home to an empty bed. Once home, I blog, read, listen to my audiobook, watch bad t.v., but eventually I have to try to fall asleep. I lie down, cold and restless - not feeling sleepy in any way. I've been zonking out around 3 or 4 in the morning, waking up around 7 or 8 for a phone call with Tom, then back to sleep before work. Needless to say, I'm tired.

Tom and I have excellent sleeping arrangements. We love bedtime. We don't have a side of the bed so we can always switch it up. We always cuddle so we can be comfortable. And the heat of his body keeps me in a deep sleep all night long. I hear people saying that they can't fall asleep or that they have trouble staying asleep, but not me. Perhaps it's because we've been sleeping together for so long. When we were first married, we both worked graveyards and slept any chance we could get. We've always gone to bed at the same time - together - slowly building up our tolerance for the other's shuffles and shifts.

Of course, now we have the problem of not being able to sleep very well without the other. Last summer when he was in China I would sleep restlessly for a couple hours every night, wake up just in time to rush to class, and then crash for another couple hours before work. I was constantly exhausted. He was only sleeping about 5 hours a night. Luckily he's only gone for a few days this time around. And when he gets home I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep with him so I can catch up on my zzzzzzs.

Brrr

God damn, it is suddenly fucking freezing.

Tom heats up the bed with his furnace feet, creating a cocoon of warmth - but once I'm out, I'm instantly cold. I need a blanket and a heating pad. I have to make breakfast with cold feet and cold legs. I want to take a shower just so I can warm up.

Summer, what happened to you? Did you just decide to bail and leave us to the fall chill? Well, please come back. No one is like you; you are wonderfully warm. We hate the cold. What can we do to make you change your mind? We'll buy you presents...

I Heart Target

Today I went to Target

The best store in the world

I was there for nearly 2 hours

I browsed and browsed
I bought essentials and non-essentials

And it was awesome

Target, I love you

The Wheel Turns

When I was a young girl of 16, I met a young boy (some day my husband) and he re-introduced me to reading with a series called 'Wheel of Time.' And I started at the beginning, the first book in a still-not finished group of long, in-depth fantasy novels. While Tom was trying to get me to give the books a chance, I remember him telling me that he's been reading the series since Jr. High and that the author "had better not die before he finishes" because the length of time between each installment was increasing. To date, the series is at Book #12, as in 1-11 are finished and 12 is a work in progress. Last year, the author passed away from a rare blood disorder (you know, the one all the patients on 'House' are diagnosed with, but it always ends up being something else...except for the one time the patient actually had it (if you don't watch 'House' you're missing out)) and we were very sad because now, just as the series was nearing a close, a new author must take his place. So clearly I am invested in the series and I love it dearly, but if you are thinking about undertaking this massive reading treat - get the books in audio form. Even though I have read the books the old fashioned way (aka with my eyeballs) I enjoy them the most when I'm listening to them. The readers of the novels are fantastic and add a new aspect to the characters and the story. I have probably listened to the entire series 7 or 8 times and each time is a treat - even though Tom says I only enjoy it so much because I forget everything so it's like reading it for the first time. Be that as it may, it is still wonderful.

The End

I am slowly nearing the end of my book. When I really love a book I slow down as the pages at the back thin. You know, I read a lot, and I like most of what I read, mostly because I'm picky about what I read. But books that I adore are few and far between. See list:

1. Gone with the Wind
2. The Time Traveler's Wife
3. The Crimson Petal and the White
4. Outlander
5. The Vampire Lestat
6. Cold Mountain
7. The Other Boleyn Girl
8. The Green Mile

These books are beautiful to me and the end of reading them marks a change in my relationship with the book. No more anticipation; no longer can I say, "I'm reading the best book!" and it makes me a little sad. "The Time Traveler's Wife" was the hardest for me to finish; everytime I picked it up I started crying. I couldn't read it in public, and I couldn't read for very long or I'd become dehydrated. If you haven't read the books on my list, I recommend it. Obviously. The best books are the ones you love to read and hate to finish.

What Day is Today?

At work, you know, I'm always writing the date on various papers and what not. My chosen form for date writing is, for example, 080808. No dots or slashes, just the 6 numbers indicating month day year. Well, today I got all fucked up because it's the 9th month (09) and the 8th day (08) and it's 2008 (08) but my brain kept getting stuck on the 0908 part, and then would put 09. Then, knowing that was wrong, I'd put 090909 or 090808...oh wait, that was the right day. Hmm, so I may have written some of the dates right and then made them wrong, or vice versa.

Present For Me

So, the other day my friend at work comes in wearing an adorable dress. It's a black, sleeveless shirt-dress and it's fabulous. I'm totally envying her and her dress and wishing that I had a similar cuteness. But, I get over it quickly when she asks me if I want it!!!

YAY!

Apparently, she found another black shirt-dress WITH sleeves,

which she prefers, and she gave me the other one.

Glorious day. I love clothes...and if it's free, the better for me.

Why Don't Things Work

iPods make no sense, so much so that I'm starting to hate them. For some unknown reason, our Nano likes to put audiobooks in the wrong order. It's incredibly distressing when you're listening, and then all of a sudden you're lost; the words don't make sense anymore because you've missed an essential plot point. I mean, the problem may exist for music as well, but who cares about music, really? It can play in any sort of order and it makes no difference. The most frustrating thing is I don't know how to fix the problem because it is completely non-sensical.

Explain:

• tracks are labeled in the folder so: 1-01 - meaning Disc 1, Track 1 and so on
• when they are put into iTunes (don't get me started about iTunes) the tracks still show in the correct order
• once put on the Nano, they are suddenly in a weird order of track 8 through end of disc, then track 1 through track 7

Okay, I understand if it feels like it needs, say, 10, 11, 12 and so on before 1. Fine. But why start with 8? Bizarre. Any help on this matter would be appreciated.

I'm Not Sick

I never get sick. Like, almost never. But I think I may have a cold...which is really sad because I hate being sick because it never happens. And it's extra bad this time because the cold is mixed with my allergies and I can't tell where one begins and the other ends. I blame my recent fall in health to runny nosed kids, ill employees, and community mice. Hopefully I will not get too much sicker and will mend quickly. If not, I'm going to have to open a can of whoop ass on my nose.

Pedi-Cure-All

I love nothing more than to get a pedicure and I have a very specific routine:

1. Enter - with book and iPod
2. Pick out color and sit in chair
3. Turn on iPod
4. Turn on massaging chair
5. Read book during clipping/filing/scrubbing portion
6. Close book and place in lap when massage portion begins
7. Relax and close eyes while legs/feet are being massaged
8. Resume reading during painting portion

My pedicure place knows me well; I never make an appointment even though I'm there once a month. They don't really speak English, which is fine with me. I can come in and not be bothered to make awkward and forced conversation. I just sit back and relax while my feet are prettified. Plus, my place does a great job. The massage portion lasts for about 20 minutes, and includes hot towels and oil. Also, the price is right at only $22 smackers. That is cheap for an hour of selfish indulgence for an area of my body seen by few and appreciated by even fewer.

But if you haven't been getting pedicures, start considering it. You are on your feet all day long; you run, walk, jump, hike, lift weights, lift kids, and all other manners of abuse. Your feet deserve it. They treat you good, and it's time to return the favor. And don't forget: pedicures make your feet softer and smoother, which makes you feel prettier, and that makes everyone happy. Besides...no one wants feet like this:

A La Garden

This is a very yummy time of year. Vegetable and fruit stands are popping up along city streets and everyone's gardens are yielding delicious foods. In particular, tomatoes.

Nothing compares to the tastiness of a freshly picked tomato. Whether they are warm or cold, with salt and pepper or in a dish. They are one of the only vegetables that CAN NOT be matched at the grocery store. Even the "on the vine" variety available for purchase do not come close to home grown goodness. The flesh is soft and tartly sweet; the seeds are salty and savory. And when the tomato is added to soups, salads, and sandwiches, whatever soup/salad/sandwich is taken to another level of scrumptiousness. I enjoy nothing more than slicing a tomato in half to salt and pepper it - then bite in and suck out the juices.

This is also the only time of year when you can get green tomatoes. Ah, the green tomato. Breaded and fried and then dipped in fry sauce. A fantastic summer treat that tastes like nothing else. If you've never had a fried green tomato, I recommend eating one this summer, watching the movie, or reading the book...or all 3!

Now, I don't have a garden, so I have to bum this fresh stuff from friends and family. Today my mom gave me 13 tomatoes, ready for eating, and then my friend brought me in 3 more at work. What luck! I'm sure my mom's garden will be giving me several more before the winter freeze and I will be love-ing every tomato (red or green) from it.

Labor = Work

Today was a holiday,

but I went to work...

but I didn't do any work.

I was just bored out of my mind.

I hate that.