So, I just went to the grocery. 9:45 p.m. on a Thursday night. And there was a woman there -- 24 years old, maybe -- wearing a t-shirt, tennis shoes and bikini bottoms. Very, very small bikini bottoms.... on a not-so-small bottom.
There were at least three inches of ass cheek bubbling out of each side. I've seen bigger panties on Victoria's Secret models.
I'm not disparaging her body. Heck, my butt is pretty, um, healthy. But would it really kill her to throw on some shorts to go to fucking Kroger? Or at least some boy short bathing suit bottoms? Geez, Louise.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
A case of the Mondays
... and it's Tuesday. So not fair.
I'm incapable of stringing together a paragraph after having a pretty crappy day. My lovely friend Javacia loves to make lists (and so do I), so I'm taking a cue from her today.
Things I would rather do than relive today, which left me deflated and super unmotivated:
1. Eat a foot sandwich, slathered in mayonnaise, on rye bread.
2. Apply liquid eyeliner, which always takes me about an hour to get right.
3. Wait in line at the St. Matthews post office.
4. Drive through Wyoming, the most boring and worthless state in the U.S.
5. Root for the Green Bay Packers.
6. Balance my checkbook.
7. Run my fingers through Bret Michaels' "hair."
8. Sit through a Dave Matthews Band concert. ... No, scratch that one. I'd rather redo today.
9. Wear skinny jeans.
10. Paint another room in my house.
Tomorrow has got to be better. Right?
I'm incapable of stringing together a paragraph after having a pretty crappy day. My lovely friend Javacia loves to make lists (and so do I), so I'm taking a cue from her today.
Things I would rather do than relive today, which left me deflated and super unmotivated:
1. Eat a foot sandwich, slathered in mayonnaise, on rye bread.
2. Apply liquid eyeliner, which always takes me about an hour to get right.
3. Wait in line at the St. Matthews post office.
4. Drive through Wyoming, the most boring and worthless state in the U.S.
5. Root for the Green Bay Packers.
6. Balance my checkbook.
7. Run my fingers through Bret Michaels' "hair."
8. Sit through a Dave Matthews Band concert. ... No, scratch that one. I'd rather redo today.
9. Wear skinny jeans.
10. Paint another room in my house.
Tomorrow has got to be better. Right?
Monday, April 7, 2008
Goodbye, brain cells
Summary haiku:
I are a third grade
grajooit. Now Flavor Flav
wants to conversate.
Yes, I'm watching "Flavor of Love." I don't know why I do this to myself.
It's always gutwrenching on a variety of levels, but tonight, it's an especially vast grammatical wasteland.
I've grown accustomed to them butchering spelling. Flav gives his suitors nicknames, such as Myammee (Miami); Grayvee (Gravy); DYMZ (Dimes); Sinceer (Sincere). You get the point.
But during the first 20 minutes of the show, four different women used the word "dramatical." As in, "You should get as dramatical as you want."
One woman told Flav he was her love, her best friend, her "confident."
Someone else said, "It's everyone for theyself." And finally, someone was glad that Flav "standed his ground."
Thank God the Kansas/Memphis game started at 9:30, because now Kyle is watching that and I'm too lazy to move to one of the other TVs.
On another note, I hate that "I'll Melt With You" Taco Bell commercial. They ruined the song, and seeing people with melted cheese suspended in midair between their lips and a giant burrito is just ... fucking gross.
I are a third grade
grajooit. Now Flavor Flav
wants to conversate.
Yes, I'm watching "Flavor of Love." I don't know why I do this to myself.
It's always gutwrenching on a variety of levels, but tonight, it's an especially vast grammatical wasteland.
I've grown accustomed to them butchering spelling. Flav gives his suitors nicknames, such as Myammee (Miami); Grayvee (Gravy); DYMZ (Dimes); Sinceer (Sincere). You get the point.
But during the first 20 minutes of the show, four different women used the word "dramatical." As in, "You should get as dramatical as you want."
One woman told Flav he was her love, her best friend, her "confident."
Someone else said, "It's everyone for theyself." And finally, someone was glad that Flav "standed his ground."
Thank God the Kansas/Memphis game started at 9:30, because now Kyle is watching that and I'm too lazy to move to one of the other TVs.
On another note, I hate that "I'll Melt With You" Taco Bell commercial. They ruined the song, and seeing people with melted cheese suspended in midair between their lips and a giant burrito is just ... fucking gross.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
DVDs are going to save someone's life
... and they will probably prevent me from going to jail.
We go to the movies about once a year. Since I work days and Kyle usually works nights (and until recently, weekends), it just doesn't work into the schedule.
But last night -- Friday -- we decided to go see "Shutter." Our new house is about a five-minute walk to the theater, so perhaps this would be the start of a more frequent moviegoing era for us.
We got there early to snag some decent seats. When we opened the door to our screen, it was already as loud as a sports bar during a Final Four game. Scraggly-haired teenage boys were wrestling each other and hanging over the side of the seating area above our heads. Girls were screeching and pointing and giggling at the boys. They were all changing seats every 2 minutes, making and receving phone calls and text messages, and they all seemed to know each other.
We were the ONLY people in there over the age of 19. It was so annoying, we were considering leaving before the movie even started. One preview was for "Prom Night," and even though I couldn't hear it, I saw teenagers getting stalked and killed on screen and said to Kyle, "I wish that movie would happen in here right now."
Long story short, the theater employees came and gave some wooden speech about being quiet, turning off cell phones, etc. And they actually stationed a police officer in our theater. Still, phones were ringing during the movie, kids were yelling and screaming out jokes and commentary.
The cop was on top of things, but it's not like he could arrest them for being assholes. If that were the case, he'd have needed 15 paddy wagons to transport every last one of them.
Mowgli from "The Jungle Book" -- who you may remember was raised by wild animals -- was more put together than these kids.
For three years, I was an editor for 30 teenagers who wrote for our teen section at a newspaper in Washington. They were fabulous, smart, funny kids. I'm sure they all got wild from time to time... hell, I did at that age, too. But I can't imagine any of them being this out of control. And to be fair, there were a handful of well-behaved teens last night who seemed just as irritated as us. Somehow, though, 20 normal people can't compete with 300 ill-behaved monsters.
I've always said going to Wal-Mart was the best birth control. Because no matter what time of day (or night) it is, there are always families who let their 15 kids run wild all over the store instead of trying to make them act like civilized human beings. And that makes me want to pile on 47 condoms every time I have sex. But the movie theater on a Friday night came pretty close.
In fact, these little asshats from last night have all probably screamed through the aisle of Wal-Mart, knocking shit off the shelves and destroying everything in their paths like mini-tornados.
Which is why, from now on, I am perfectly content to wait for movies to hit DVD. We have a 47" HDTV, comfortable sofas and tickets aren't $9.25 each.
We go to the movies about once a year. Since I work days and Kyle usually works nights (and until recently, weekends), it just doesn't work into the schedule.
But last night -- Friday -- we decided to go see "Shutter." Our new house is about a five-minute walk to the theater, so perhaps this would be the start of a more frequent moviegoing era for us.
We got there early to snag some decent seats. When we opened the door to our screen, it was already as loud as a sports bar during a Final Four game. Scraggly-haired teenage boys were wrestling each other and hanging over the side of the seating area above our heads. Girls were screeching and pointing and giggling at the boys. They were all changing seats every 2 minutes, making and receving phone calls and text messages, and they all seemed to know each other.
We were the ONLY people in there over the age of 19. It was so annoying, we were considering leaving before the movie even started. One preview was for "Prom Night," and even though I couldn't hear it, I saw teenagers getting stalked and killed on screen and said to Kyle, "I wish that movie would happen in here right now."
Long story short, the theater employees came and gave some wooden speech about being quiet, turning off cell phones, etc. And they actually stationed a police officer in our theater. Still, phones were ringing during the movie, kids were yelling and screaming out jokes and commentary.
The cop was on top of things, but it's not like he could arrest them for being assholes. If that were the case, he'd have needed 15 paddy wagons to transport every last one of them.
Mowgli from "The Jungle Book" -- who you may remember was raised by wild animals -- was more put together than these kids.
For three years, I was an editor for 30 teenagers who wrote for our teen section at a newspaper in Washington. They were fabulous, smart, funny kids. I'm sure they all got wild from time to time... hell, I did at that age, too. But I can't imagine any of them being this out of control. And to be fair, there were a handful of well-behaved teens last night who seemed just as irritated as us. Somehow, though, 20 normal people can't compete with 300 ill-behaved monsters.
I've always said going to Wal-Mart was the best birth control. Because no matter what time of day (or night) it is, there are always families who let their 15 kids run wild all over the store instead of trying to make them act like civilized human beings. And that makes me want to pile on 47 condoms every time I have sex. But the movie theater on a Friday night came pretty close.
In fact, these little asshats from last night have all probably screamed through the aisle of Wal-Mart, knocking shit off the shelves and destroying everything in their paths like mini-tornados.
Which is why, from now on, I am perfectly content to wait for movies to hit DVD. We have a 47" HDTV, comfortable sofas and tickets aren't $9.25 each.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
10 Questions for Thursday
1. If everyone in the world had the option to grow a porno moustache, do you think people would laugh a little more often?
2. Will my cat, Miles, hate my guts when he comes home from the vet tomorrow with his new spring haircut? (2a. If so, will he joust my calves with his buck tooth?)
3. How many stores must I scour to find the perfect earrings to complement my new giraffe print dress?
4. Will my feet ever forgive me for wearing those giant, spiky heels last night?
5. Is there anything wrong with a 35-year-old woman wearing Hello Kitty band-aids?
6. Does any better bargain exist than the awesome, long-lasting Smith's Rosebud Salve, which costs $6 at Sephora?
7. Is there ever a circumstance where one should try to wax their own eyebrows?
8. What the hell was that giant flash of light that just blasted through my front window?
9. Why won't Lucy fetch me a Diet Coke instead of her rubber ball?
10. If I meet Tim Gunn and ask him to sign my Tim Gunn bobblehead, will he think I'm a total freakshow fan? Or funny?
2. Will my cat, Miles, hate my guts when he comes home from the vet tomorrow with his new spring haircut? (2a. If so, will he joust my calves with his buck tooth?)
3. How many stores must I scour to find the perfect earrings to complement my new giraffe print dress?
4. Will my feet ever forgive me for wearing those giant, spiky heels last night?
5. Is there anything wrong with a 35-year-old woman wearing Hello Kitty band-aids?
6. Does any better bargain exist than the awesome, long-lasting Smith's Rosebud Salve, which costs $6 at Sephora?
7. Is there ever a circumstance where one should try to wax their own eyebrows?
8. What the hell was that giant flash of light that just blasted through my front window?
9. Why won't Lucy fetch me a Diet Coke instead of her rubber ball?
10. If I meet Tim Gunn and ask him to sign my Tim Gunn bobblehead, will he think I'm a total freakshow fan? Or funny?
Monday, March 24, 2008
Viva Las Vegas!
Let me begin with a small gripe.
Elvis Presley's "Viva Las Vegas" used to make me feel energized and ready to drink and gamble. But since they started using it in the Viagra commercial ("Vivaaaaa Viagra!") it makes me feel icky and gross inside.
In case you haven't seen the ad, a bunch of old farts are at a hootenanny playing their musical instruments. They warble a verse of the song, replace "Las Vegas" with "Viagra," then they all high-five each other and scatter in different directions, presumably to put their four-hour boners to good use.
Now, every time I think of Sin City, I hear that fucking commercial in my head. Thanks, Viagra. You shouldn't have.
Anyway. So, last week I met two girlfriends (Beth, a photographer from Maine, and Wendy, my bestie, a massage therapist from Washington) in Vegas for a totally impromptu, last-minute trip. Long story short: It was a freakin' blast, like Vegas always is.
But the first day/night was like an episode of the Twilight Zone, for real.
We went to our hotel room, opened the door, and found four 50- or 60-somethings -- three women, one man -- partying in our room.
An army of empty beer bottles were strewn about, and we were like, "Oh sorry! They must have made a mistake at the front desk."
"Nah, nah, nah -- come on in," yelled one of the semi-drunk women. "We'll explain what happened."
We're thinking, "no, that's cool. We'll just go have them switch our room." But they insisted, and we were curious. They said they had asked for a non-smoking room but the hotel put them in a smoking room (ours). When they called the front desk, there weren't any non-smoking rooms available, so the hotel apparently told them to hang out in ours until they had one cleaned.
So these people stayed in the room all day, showered, used all the bathroom stuff. "But we didn't sleep in the beds," they said, "so you could just call for some more towels."
Um, I think we'll also have them clean the bathroom as well.
Then they wouldn't leave! They were all drunk and chatty, and we were all travel-tired and just wanted to chill for a few. One lady starts pulling stuff out of her shopping bag to show to us (souvenirs and whatnot). The man was like, "Heh heh. I'm in a room with SIX beautiful women now!"
Vivaaaaa Viagra!
This was all within the first hour. Beth took a picture of them because the whole thing was so bizarre, so when she emails it to me, I will add it to this post.
Tales to be continued... Method Man has a guest spot on Law & Order and I must watch. I wuv him!
Tomorrow's story: "It's not St. Patrick's Day! What are you talking about?"
Elvis Presley's "Viva Las Vegas" used to make me feel energized and ready to drink and gamble. But since they started using it in the Viagra commercial ("Vivaaaaa Viagra!") it makes me feel icky and gross inside.
In case you haven't seen the ad, a bunch of old farts are at a hootenanny playing their musical instruments. They warble a verse of the song, replace "Las Vegas" with "Viagra," then they all high-five each other and scatter in different directions, presumably to put their four-hour boners to good use.
Now, every time I think of Sin City, I hear that fucking commercial in my head. Thanks, Viagra. You shouldn't have.
Anyway. So, last week I met two girlfriends (Beth, a photographer from Maine, and Wendy, my bestie, a massage therapist from Washington) in Vegas for a totally impromptu, last-minute trip. Long story short: It was a freakin' blast, like Vegas always is.
But the first day/night was like an episode of the Twilight Zone, for real.
We went to our hotel room, opened the door, and found four 50- or 60-somethings -- three women, one man -- partying in our room.
An army of empty beer bottles were strewn about, and we were like, "Oh sorry! They must have made a mistake at the front desk."
"Nah, nah, nah -- come on in," yelled one of the semi-drunk women. "We'll explain what happened."
We're thinking, "no, that's cool. We'll just go have them switch our room." But they insisted, and we were curious. They said they had asked for a non-smoking room but the hotel put them in a smoking room (ours). When they called the front desk, there weren't any non-smoking rooms available, so the hotel apparently told them to hang out in ours until they had one cleaned.
So these people stayed in the room all day, showered, used all the bathroom stuff. "But we didn't sleep in the beds," they said, "so you could just call for some more towels."
Um, I think we'll also have them clean the bathroom as well.
Then they wouldn't leave! They were all drunk and chatty, and we were all travel-tired and just wanted to chill for a few. One lady starts pulling stuff out of her shopping bag to show to us (souvenirs and whatnot). The man was like, "Heh heh. I'm in a room with SIX beautiful women now!"
Vivaaaaa Viagra!
This was all within the first hour. Beth took a picture of them because the whole thing was so bizarre, so when she emails it to me, I will add it to this post.
Tales to be continued... Method Man has a guest spot on Law & Order and I must watch. I wuv him!
Tomorrow's story: "It's not St. Patrick's Day! What are you talking about?"
If all healthy food tasted this good, I'd weigh 90 pounds
So, I was looking for recipes on the Weight Watchers website and came across this awesome dish, which is the Raddest Dish in the Universe.
Seriously. I don't even like to cook. Actually, I hate it. Really hate it. But when I found myself alone on Easter weekend because my hubby was covering basketball games in Birmingham, I went to the store specifically to get scallops so I could cook. For myself. Just me. I can count the amount of times this has happened on one hand.
Anyway, besides the fact that it tastes fabulous with a capital F, here are three more reasons to try it.
1. It is the easiest thing ever to make.
2. You'd be hard pressed to get something tastier in a restaurant.
3. You probably have most of the ingredients in your cupboard already.
Pan Seared Scallops with Cilantro
Ingredients:
1 pound of scallops
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp table salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 tbsp light butter, divided
1 spray cooking spray
1/4 cup water
1/2 medium jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
2 tbsp fresh lime juice
2 tbsp cilantro, minced
Instructions:
Sprinkle both sides of scallops with chili powder, salt and black pepper.
Melt 1 1/2 teaspoons butter in a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray over medium-high heat. Add half of scallops; cook 3 minutes on each side or until done. Remove scallops from pan and keep warm. Repeat procedure with remaining butter and scallops.
Add water, jalapeno pepper and lime juice to pan; cook 1 minute, scraping bottom and sides of pan to loosen browned bits. Spoon sauce over scallops; sprinkle with cilantro.
Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 3 ounces scallops, two tablespoons sauce).
(If you're a Weight Watchers person, one serving of this -- about three and a half large scallops, is only TWO points.)
Seriously. I don't even like to cook. Actually, I hate it. Really hate it. But when I found myself alone on Easter weekend because my hubby was covering basketball games in Birmingham, I went to the store specifically to get scallops so I could cook. For myself. Just me. I can count the amount of times this has happened on one hand.
Anyway, besides the fact that it tastes fabulous with a capital F, here are three more reasons to try it.
1. It is the easiest thing ever to make.
2. You'd be hard pressed to get something tastier in a restaurant.
3. You probably have most of the ingredients in your cupboard already.
Pan Seared Scallops with Cilantro
Ingredients:
1 pound of scallops
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp table salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 tbsp light butter, divided
1 spray cooking spray
1/4 cup water
1/2 medium jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
2 tbsp fresh lime juice
2 tbsp cilantro, minced
Instructions:
Sprinkle both sides of scallops with chili powder, salt and black pepper.
Melt 1 1/2 teaspoons butter in a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray over medium-high heat. Add half of scallops; cook 3 minutes on each side or until done. Remove scallops from pan and keep warm. Repeat procedure with remaining butter and scallops.
Add water, jalapeno pepper and lime juice to pan; cook 1 minute, scraping bottom and sides of pan to loosen browned bits. Spoon sauce over scallops; sprinkle with cilantro.
Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 3 ounces scallops, two tablespoons sauce).
(If you're a Weight Watchers person, one serving of this -- about three and a half large scallops, is only TWO points.)
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Lists instead of booze. Let's give it a whirl.
You know, it's hard to stay upbeat and motivated when "one of those days" turns into "one of those weeks." And then months. I'm turning into Debbie Downer and I'm only 2 months into this year.
So in an attempt to pull out of the soul-sucking funk -- at least for tonight -- I'm making a list of things that make me happy. (I'd rather drink, but frankly, I don't need the calories or the hangover.)
1. My husband. After almost 8 years of being a couple, our relationship just keeps getting better. (Too bad he's in Bloomington for work tonight.)
2. My mom. No matter how shitty my days are, she suffers the effects of a traumatic brain injury every, single day. I have no right to complain.
3. Watching Lucy and Archie play tug-of-war and keep away with a rope toy. At least someone is having fun. And related to this, it warms my heart to see Archie's stumpy little tail wag back and forth in a perfectly even line. It looks like a windshield wiper.
4. Friends. I have great friends in Louisville. But last night I spent four hours on the phone with two of my closest friends from home, Wendy and Lisa. It's a nice reality check to talk to people who have known you for 15 years.
5. The Las Vegas trip that fell into my lap. Totally random, but I'm meeting my friend Beth in Vegas in a month. I need something to look forward to right now.
6. My house. It feels good just to say it. MY house. Not a house I'm renting from someone else. Mine, mine, mine!
7. My shoes. I know it's superficial, but shoes always make me feel pretty, even when I don't like the way my clothes are fitting.
8. My determination. Speaking of ill-fitting clothes, they are looking better lately. I've lost 11.5 pounds in six weeks. Probably could have lost a few more, but I had a shitty time last week and splurged on a couple of bottles of wine. And some Girl Scout cookies. But I'm back on the wagon again -- and I'm so fucking tired of baby carrots.
9. Having a sense of humor. If not for that, I'd probably be in a loony bin. Which is where I feel like I belong some days.
Huh. I was shooting for 10 things, but that's all I can really come up with for now -- and that last one was a stretch. I guess it's better than nothing.
So in an attempt to pull out of the soul-sucking funk -- at least for tonight -- I'm making a list of things that make me happy. (I'd rather drink, but frankly, I don't need the calories or the hangover.)
1. My husband. After almost 8 years of being a couple, our relationship just keeps getting better. (Too bad he's in Bloomington for work tonight.)
2. My mom. No matter how shitty my days are, she suffers the effects of a traumatic brain injury every, single day. I have no right to complain.
3. Watching Lucy and Archie play tug-of-war and keep away with a rope toy. At least someone is having fun. And related to this, it warms my heart to see Archie's stumpy little tail wag back and forth in a perfectly even line. It looks like a windshield wiper.
4. Friends. I have great friends in Louisville. But last night I spent four hours on the phone with two of my closest friends from home, Wendy and Lisa. It's a nice reality check to talk to people who have known you for 15 years.
5. The Las Vegas trip that fell into my lap. Totally random, but I'm meeting my friend Beth in Vegas in a month. I need something to look forward to right now.
6. My house. It feels good just to say it. MY house. Not a house I'm renting from someone else. Mine, mine, mine!
7. My shoes. I know it's superficial, but shoes always make me feel pretty, even when I don't like the way my clothes are fitting.
8. My determination. Speaking of ill-fitting clothes, they are looking better lately. I've lost 11.5 pounds in six weeks. Probably could have lost a few more, but I had a shitty time last week and splurged on a couple of bottles of wine. And some Girl Scout cookies. But I'm back on the wagon again -- and I'm so fucking tired of baby carrots.
9. Having a sense of humor. If not for that, I'd probably be in a loony bin. Which is where I feel like I belong some days.
Huh. I was shooting for 10 things, but that's all I can really come up with for now -- and that last one was a stretch. I guess it's better than nothing.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Bargains make me quiver with joy
Summary haiku:
Saving money when
your tax refund just arrived
doubles the delight.
So, the house. Still working on it. We've gotten the Things We Couldn't Live Without (lamps, shower curtains, wooden blinds in a couple of rooms, etc.), and we're now working the list of Things That Would Make Life More Convenient. Which brings me to one of the most joyous shopping trips I've had in a while.
I went into Target looking for wall shelves where I could display a couple of plants and a totally cute Vietnamese art sculpture I got at Pier 1. (The latter was on my list of Things I Don't Fucking Need, But They're Really Cute So I'm Buying Them.)
I saw several shelves, but they weren't quite what I wanted. Then I came to the endcap, and lo and behold, the perfect shelves were on clearance for $4.98 each -- marked down from $24.98! I bought all the ones they had left (5), because I like to keep the surfaces in my house uncluttered and I have tons of unused wall space in various rooms.
Money saved: $100.
Then I was just cruising around, as one tends to do at Target, when I came to the bathroom aisle. We don't have any towel racks in our bathrooms, so we've just been slinging towels over the shower curtain rod to dry. Which hides how cute the shower curtains are. And Target had these really beautiful brushed nickel double towel bars on sale for $12.98, also marked down from $24.98. I got one for each bathroom.
Money saved: $24.
Next up: A giant mirror to hang on one of our ginormous dining room walls. I had been eyeballing it on my last couple of Target jaunts. It's lovely, with a carved frame that's a muted, distressed gold color. $19.98, marked down from $90. Are you kidding me? Is today fucking Christmas?
Money saved: $70.
Can you believe there's more? The last thing is from the Things I Don't Fucking Need, But They're Really Cute So I'm Buying Them category. I got a fabulous, huge wall hanging for the bedroom. It's electric green silk with an olive green tree painted on it. It's simple and beautiful, but most important, it makes me feel really happy when I look at it. $14.99, marked down from $29.99.
Money saved: $15.
For those of you who can't do math -- which includes me, I had to use a calculator to do this -- I got $285 worth of items for $85. Which left me plenty of dough to pick up a green patent clutch and some canary yellow tights to wear under a couple of my spring dresses.
I am bursting with happiness. I'm off to hang one of my shelves!
Saving money when
your tax refund just arrived
doubles the delight.
So, the house. Still working on it. We've gotten the Things We Couldn't Live Without (lamps, shower curtains, wooden blinds in a couple of rooms, etc.), and we're now working the list of Things That Would Make Life More Convenient. Which brings me to one of the most joyous shopping trips I've had in a while.
I went into Target looking for wall shelves where I could display a couple of plants and a totally cute Vietnamese art sculpture I got at Pier 1. (The latter was on my list of Things I Don't Fucking Need, But They're Really Cute So I'm Buying Them.)
I saw several shelves, but they weren't quite what I wanted. Then I came to the endcap, and lo and behold, the perfect shelves were on clearance for $4.98 each -- marked down from $24.98! I bought all the ones they had left (5), because I like to keep the surfaces in my house uncluttered and I have tons of unused wall space in various rooms.
Money saved: $100.
Then I was just cruising around, as one tends to do at Target, when I came to the bathroom aisle. We don't have any towel racks in our bathrooms, so we've just been slinging towels over the shower curtain rod to dry. Which hides how cute the shower curtains are. And Target had these really beautiful brushed nickel double towel bars on sale for $12.98, also marked down from $24.98. I got one for each bathroom.
Money saved: $24.
Next up: A giant mirror to hang on one of our ginormous dining room walls. I had been eyeballing it on my last couple of Target jaunts. It's lovely, with a carved frame that's a muted, distressed gold color. $19.98, marked down from $90. Are you kidding me? Is today fucking Christmas?
Money saved: $70.
Can you believe there's more? The last thing is from the Things I Don't Fucking Need, But They're Really Cute So I'm Buying Them category. I got a fabulous, huge wall hanging for the bedroom. It's electric green silk with an olive green tree painted on it. It's simple and beautiful, but most important, it makes me feel really happy when I look at it. $14.99, marked down from $29.99.
Money saved: $15.
For those of you who can't do math -- which includes me, I had to use a calculator to do this -- I got $285 worth of items for $85. Which left me plenty of dough to pick up a green patent clutch and some canary yellow tights to wear under a couple of my spring dresses.
I am bursting with happiness. I'm off to hang one of my shelves!
Thursday, February 14, 2008
I'm going crazy -- want a lift?
Summary haiku:
Time flies when life is
busy. Wine helps, but Vegas
trip is what I need.
Happy Valentine's Day!
After a delicious, candlelit Italian meal (sorry, diet!) at our new dining room table, Kyle and I are having the most romantic evening. He is watching a basketball game with Miles (the cat) curled in the nook of his leg. I'm messing around on the computer, Lucy's head resting on my thigh and Archie's head nuzzled against my neck (he's on the back of the couch cushion).
But after our tummies retract a little bit, me and the hubbster will actually probably snuggle each other and watch a movie or something. Because honestly, red wine makes me want to cuddle someone without fur. (Side note: Covey Run wine from Washington state... try it.)
Anyway. It's been a really hellish three weeks (with the exception of last weekend, which included a visit from Danielle and Javacia's birthday). You don't care about the details. Hell, I'd just as soon forget them myself. But suffice it to say that I've felt like a monkey with its hair on fire for weeks.
But here's the good news: Out of nowhere, I get this email from one of my favorite girlfriends of all time, Beth. I can't say enough about how much I love this woman. Anyway, the email said she was going to Las Vegas for a work trip, the hotel room is already paid for, and did I want to meet her there and play for a few days?
Hellz to the yeah.
This is exactly what I needed, and it could not have come with better timing. The trip isn't for another month, but that's perfect because it gives me some time to reclaim my sanity and, perhaps, lose some more poundage before I go someplace warm, where I will not be wearing 50 layers of clothing.
(Fattie update: I've lost 11 pounds now. Probably could have lost more if it were not for aforementioned fun weekend filled with girlfriends, non-Weight Watchers dinners and lots of alcohol. What can I say? Stress made me relapse for a few days. Still, all of my pants are too big, which is fun, but also annoying.)
Only been to Las Vegas once, for my bachelorette party in 2005, which is also the last time I've seen Beth. See how fun (and sober) she is?
So I'm looking forward to exploring a little more and doing some shopping. According to our tax guy, our income tax refunds should drop into the account tomorrow. Maybe things are finally turning around. I'm ready for the crazy train to pull into the station, man.
Oh, and my Chia Pet? It's going apeshit!
Night, lovebirds...
Time flies when life is
busy. Wine helps, but Vegas
trip is what I need.
Happy Valentine's Day!
After a delicious, candlelit Italian meal (sorry, diet!) at our new dining room table, Kyle and I are having the most romantic evening. He is watching a basketball game with Miles (the cat) curled in the nook of his leg. I'm messing around on the computer, Lucy's head resting on my thigh and Archie's head nuzzled against my neck (he's on the back of the couch cushion).
But after our tummies retract a little bit, me and the hubbster will actually probably snuggle each other and watch a movie or something. Because honestly, red wine makes me want to cuddle someone without fur. (Side note: Covey Run wine from Washington state... try it.)
Anyway. It's been a really hellish three weeks (with the exception of last weekend, which included a visit from Danielle and Javacia's birthday). You don't care about the details. Hell, I'd just as soon forget them myself. But suffice it to say that I've felt like a monkey with its hair on fire for weeks.
But here's the good news: Out of nowhere, I get this email from one of my favorite girlfriends of all time, Beth. I can't say enough about how much I love this woman. Anyway, the email said she was going to Las Vegas for a work trip, the hotel room is already paid for, and did I want to meet her there and play for a few days?
Hellz to the yeah.
This is exactly what I needed, and it could not have come with better timing. The trip isn't for another month, but that's perfect because it gives me some time to reclaim my sanity and, perhaps, lose some more poundage before I go someplace warm, where I will not be wearing 50 layers of clothing.
(Fattie update: I've lost 11 pounds now. Probably could have lost more if it were not for aforementioned fun weekend filled with girlfriends, non-Weight Watchers dinners and lots of alcohol. What can I say? Stress made me relapse for a few days. Still, all of my pants are too big, which is fun, but also annoying.)
Only been to Las Vegas once, for my bachelorette party in 2005, which is also the last time I've seen Beth. See how fun (and sober) she is?
So I'm looking forward to exploring a little more and doing some shopping. According to our tax guy, our income tax refunds should drop into the account tomorrow. Maybe things are finally turning around. I'm ready for the crazy train to pull into the station, man.
Oh, and my Chia Pet? It's going apeshit!
Night, lovebirds...
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Financially irresponsible people are ruining my quiet time
So, I've been talking about the fact that we moved for weeks. We're in. But with a new house in a new neighborhood also came a new phone number. And it appears that whoever previously had this number never paid a bill in their lives.
During the past three weeks, we have gotten millions of phone calls from a variety of collection agencies looking for the previous owner of this phone number. We answer and say, "We don't know those people. We just got this number. We are a different family." Then that one stops calling.
But the next day, another agency calls. And another. Damn, how many bills did these motherfuckers have? And some of the calls don't even have a real, live person to talk to -- it's just a recording. So I can't even tell them we're not the right people. And they keep calling -- sometimes the same agency calls four times a day, clogging up all our voice mail.
It's driving me out of my fucking mind! If I meet these financial delinquents somehow by chance -- and believe me, I know their names WELL by now -- I'm going to tell them to eat a fat dick and quit signing up for credit cards if they can't even pay the electric bills.
I can't even enjoy a quiet glass of wine without being interrupted every 15 minutes.
If you read this far, thanks for listening. I'm a little tipsy right now (OK, maybe a lot tipsy) and these fuckheads are messing up my relaxing flow.
During the past three weeks, we have gotten millions of phone calls from a variety of collection agencies looking for the previous owner of this phone number. We answer and say, "We don't know those people. We just got this number. We are a different family." Then that one stops calling.
But the next day, another agency calls. And another. Damn, how many bills did these motherfuckers have? And some of the calls don't even have a real, live person to talk to -- it's just a recording. So I can't even tell them we're not the right people. And they keep calling -- sometimes the same agency calls four times a day, clogging up all our voice mail.
It's driving me out of my fucking mind! If I meet these financial delinquents somehow by chance -- and believe me, I know their names WELL by now -- I'm going to tell them to eat a fat dick and quit signing up for credit cards if they can't even pay the electric bills.
I can't even enjoy a quiet glass of wine without being interrupted every 15 minutes.
If you read this far, thanks for listening. I'm a little tipsy right now (OK, maybe a lot tipsy) and these fuckheads are messing up my relaxing flow.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Patience is a virtue
Summary haiku:
I guess my Chia
is a slow bloomer. But she's
alive, green and well!
I kept watering her, and about two days ago, a lone sprout was poking out of her back. Every couple of hours, I'd go back and there were more. Now, she's going wild! I guess I better give her a name now.... any ideas?
I guess my Chia
is a slow bloomer. But she's
alive, green and well!
I kept watering her, and about two days ago, a lone sprout was poking out of her back. Every couple of hours, I'd go back and there were more. Now, she's going wild! I guess I better give her a name now.... any ideas?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Ch-ch-ch-chintzy!
Summary haiku:
Chia Pet is full
of seeds, but won't grow trademark
lush clover coat.
As a gag gift, Kyle got me a Chia Pet for Christmas. His job got a big shipment of them in a press release, so he thought it would be funny to wrap one up and stick it under the tree.
Shaped like a kitten, this prize came with a bonus alarm clock, also a kitten.
Once we got to the new house, I was like, what the hell. Might as well grow her for novelty's sake. So, I followed the directions to a T. I kept her filled with water. The package said she'd start to show plant buds in 3-5 days. It has now been 8 days, and this is my Chia Pet:
Covered in seeds. Just like it was on days 1 through 7. So, not only are Chia Pets ugly, they don't grow for shit.
Like the plant version of Sea Monkeys. Sigh.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Fattie update Vol. 2
Weighed myself just now: I'm down a total of 8 pounds, possibly more because I'm wearing a whole lotta clothes today. (It's cold as hell.) Hooray!
I've been crazy busy at work and obsessed with doing house stuff when I'm at home, most of which takes a lot longer than I expect it to. What can I say? I'm a novice.
Anyhoo, pics (and things that are more interesting than updates on my personal life) coming soon.
I've been crazy busy at work and obsessed with doing house stuff when I'm at home, most of which takes a lot longer than I expect it to. What can I say? I'm a novice.
Anyhoo, pics (and things that are more interesting than updates on my personal life) coming soon.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
My uncle is the man
One of these days, I'll think about something other than the new house. And I'm kind of looking forward to that, because it will mean that I'm actually living in it instead of hauling shit over there and prettying it up.
But right now, my uncle Stinky is in town.
(For the record, his real name is Robert and he does not smell. At all. But when I was little, we'd tease each other back and forth. He'd say, "you're a brat!" and I'd reply, "you stink!" And one day I started calling him Stinky and it just sort of stuck.)
ANYWAY, when we had our home inspection, we found out our house was wired with copper wiring instead of aluminum. Apparently, this was fairly common for about five years during the late 1970s, when our house was built.
However, it can be potentially problematic, because when the weather changes temperatures, it causes cause the copper to expand and contract. Over time, this will sometimes cause the wiring to loosen from its connection and be a fire hazard.
So when I called my uncle -- an electrician -- to ask him if we should still buy this house, he said yes, and that he could, and would, easily fix this. So he flew out here from Washington state to do that and to help us move.
My uncle has always been like my dad to me. My own father stopped taking an interest in my life about 25 years ago. Stinky is the one who taught me to drive; helped me apply for student loans; choose a college; move numerous times (even to Illinois and back); figure out my finances; offer emotional support and, well, pretty much everything a father would do if he were around. And more.
I am so grateful for him right now. We've been through a whole lot together, and he rocks.
Off to the new house! Our new dining room set and bed are being delivered at 10:30. Yay!
But right now, my uncle Stinky is in town.
(For the record, his real name is Robert and he does not smell. At all. But when I was little, we'd tease each other back and forth. He'd say, "you're a brat!" and I'd reply, "you stink!" And one day I started calling him Stinky and it just sort of stuck.)
ANYWAY, when we had our home inspection, we found out our house was wired with copper wiring instead of aluminum. Apparently, this was fairly common for about five years during the late 1970s, when our house was built.
However, it can be potentially problematic, because when the weather changes temperatures, it causes cause the copper to expand and contract. Over time, this will sometimes cause the wiring to loosen from its connection and be a fire hazard.
So when I called my uncle -- an electrician -- to ask him if we should still buy this house, he said yes, and that he could, and would, easily fix this. So he flew out here from Washington state to do that and to help us move.
My uncle has always been like my dad to me. My own father stopped taking an interest in my life about 25 years ago. Stinky is the one who taught me to drive; helped me apply for student loans; choose a college; move numerous times (even to Illinois and back); figure out my finances; offer emotional support and, well, pretty much everything a father would do if he were around. And more.
I am so grateful for him right now. We've been through a whole lot together, and he rocks.
Off to the new house! Our new dining room set and bed are being delivered at 10:30. Yay!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Fattie update
Summary haiku:
One week in, counting
points and pining for pretzels.
But I lost four pounds.
One week in, counting
points and pining for pretzels.
But I lost four pounds.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Another dead soldier
... And by that, I mean, another empty paint can (or three): ready to be disposed of.
Today was day three of painting rooms in the new house, and like Ms. P (who also painted her house upon moving in), I think that after this is over, I will never want to see a paintbrush, roller or edger for the rest of my life.
Epiphanies from today:
1. Painting baseboards and trim isn't as fun as using a roller, but I'm really good at it. I found my hidden skills! Turns out, I have quite a steady hand, so baseboards (and edging along the ceiling) have become my jobs. And Kyle is better and faster at rolling, which works out pretty well.
2. Sitting on the floor to paint baseboards will make your lower back hurt. Tomorrow, I will try sitting on one of the dog beds to do this. Tonight, I am with heating pad.
3. Every time I start bitching about how sick I am of painting, looking at the finished rooms remind me it's so worthwhile. OMG, they look so pretty. It looks like a whole new house -- and it feels great that we did it ourselves!
4. Every time I wish someone else could finish the painting, I remember how much the professional painter's estimate was for two of our three floors, totaling 1900 square feet: $3800. Enough said.
One more day of painting tomorrow (ergh), then back to work for a few days.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
I'm a homeowner!
And let me tell you, it's pretty exciting. It's our first house and we're totally gung-ho about making it our own. Plus, we have a whole lot of stuff to do and we're trying to cram much of it in before we move in.
So, for the past 36 hours or so, the hubbster and I have been spackling, removing tile and wallpaper, taping off baseboards and door jambs, and cleaning and painting walls. We also dog-proofed the yard today. We have been to Lowe's and The Home Depot no less than 6 times in the past two days. We've been to Porter Paints twice. We're new at this, so we keep discovering new shit we need.
It's overwhelming. And expensive. But it's also pretty cool.
Here's what I've learned so far.
1. Painting seems new and fun for about 45 minutes, or until you get to the ceiling. Then it's just a giant chore that, in our case, needs to be done in four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, the kitchen and two hallways.
1a. Painting ceilings is really awful. Do not get directly under the area you're painting or you might end up with paint in your eye. Or hair. Or both. Wear a baseball cap anyway, just in case.
1b. Paint fumes will make you high, even with the windows open. Thank God. Otherwise, I may not have had the wherewithal to go all day long.
2. Concrete blocks don't seem that heavy at first. But after you lift the third one off the floor and into the shopping cart at Home Depot, you'll wish you would have taken your chivalrous husband up his insistance that he go to get 'em. But instead, you were like, "I am woman! They aren't that heavy, I want to go!" What a fucking idiot.
3. If it's been applied properly, wallpaper is really easy to remove. Yes, it's also a little tedious, but the folks on HGTV shows often overreact about it.
4. Home improvements should never be done without an MP3 player and speakers. There's nothing like a little Mobb Deep, Kanye West and Mos Def for inspiration. If you like that kind of music, of course.
5. If the previous homeowners left behind good vibes -- which I feel ours did, especially after meeting them at closing -- it makes a huge difference. I don't really know how to explain this, but I totally believe in good karma and it's in this house, no doubt.
Of course, I will be posting before and after pics at some point soon. Until then, I'm gonna finish this drink (oh yeah, we stopped at the liquor store on the way home!) and get some rest.
Accomplishments since Friday afternoon: Huge master bedroom is all done (and gorgeous!), except for painting baseboards. Upstairs hallway, primer and one coat of paint applied. Upstairs bathroom: Wallpaper removed, messed up tile removed from bottom of walls and subsequently spackled; windows and doors are taped and prepared for painting. Living room: Walls washed, vents cleaned, one wall painted, the rest of the room taped off for painting.
One more drink (diet alcohol!) then off to bed.
So, for the past 36 hours or so, the hubbster and I have been spackling, removing tile and wallpaper, taping off baseboards and door jambs, and cleaning and painting walls. We also dog-proofed the yard today. We have been to Lowe's and The Home Depot no less than 6 times in the past two days. We've been to Porter Paints twice. We're new at this, so we keep discovering new shit we need.
It's overwhelming. And expensive. But it's also pretty cool.
Here's what I've learned so far.
1. Painting seems new and fun for about 45 minutes, or until you get to the ceiling. Then it's just a giant chore that, in our case, needs to be done in four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, the kitchen and two hallways.
1a. Painting ceilings is really awful. Do not get directly under the area you're painting or you might end up with paint in your eye. Or hair. Or both. Wear a baseball cap anyway, just in case.
1b. Paint fumes will make you high, even with the windows open. Thank God. Otherwise, I may not have had the wherewithal to go all day long.
2. Concrete blocks don't seem that heavy at first. But after you lift the third one off the floor and into the shopping cart at Home Depot, you'll wish you would have taken your chivalrous husband up his insistance that he go to get 'em. But instead, you were like, "I am woman! They aren't that heavy, I want to go!" What a fucking idiot.
3. If it's been applied properly, wallpaper is really easy to remove. Yes, it's also a little tedious, but the folks on HGTV shows often overreact about it.
4. Home improvements should never be done without an MP3 player and speakers. There's nothing like a little Mobb Deep, Kanye West and Mos Def for inspiration. If you like that kind of music, of course.
5. If the previous homeowners left behind good vibes -- which I feel ours did, especially after meeting them at closing -- it makes a huge difference. I don't really know how to explain this, but I totally believe in good karma and it's in this house, no doubt.
Of course, I will be posting before and after pics at some point soon. Until then, I'm gonna finish this drink (oh yeah, we stopped at the liquor store on the way home!) and get some rest.
Accomplishments since Friday afternoon: Huge master bedroom is all done (and gorgeous!), except for painting baseboards. Upstairs hallway, primer and one coat of paint applied. Upstairs bathroom: Wallpaper removed, messed up tile removed from bottom of walls and subsequently spackled; windows and doors are taped and prepared for painting. Living room: Walls washed, vents cleaned, one wall painted, the rest of the room taped off for painting.
One more drink (diet alcohol!) then off to bed.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
A sick sense of humor
I have one. So when my friend, Elana, sent this to me, I thought it was hilarious. I'd just like to share:
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Driving Miss Maisy
Summary haiku:
No more U-turns, or
punching steering wheel. Mandy
tells me where to go.
Well. I just made this list of all the stuff that needs to get done in the next day and a half. And I started to freak-the-fuck-out when it reached the bottom fourth of an 8x11 page of notebook paper.
So what's the logical thing to do? Sit down with the laptop and write a blog -- something that is not, incidentally, on that list. Whatever. I'm tired. I haven't been feeling well lately. And I was running around town for work, non-stop, all day.
A girl can only do so much before she hits the wall and needs a swig of vodka. And yes, it does fit into the Weight Watchers plan -- only 2 points! In fact, my good friend Stephanie -- who is also an incredibly talented writer; read her most excellent home-and-life-improvement blog here -- refers to vodka as "diet alcohol." Drink it straight up, and the overall calorie damage is pretty low. I haven't consulted my liver on any other potential damages, however.
Anyhoo, this is what brings me to my computer tonight: I need to extol the virtues of my Christmas present, a GPS navigation system for my car. Besides my dog, Lucy, this is the best, most useful gift I have ever received.
I have absolutely no sense of direction. I'm not sure how I existed before Mapquest. If someone watched me try to find places from above, it would look like a Family Circus installment:
Anyway, this device is like magic. My appreciation for it grows with each day of out-of-the-office assignments in random areas of town. In addition to a visual map and instructions, you can choose from several different voices who will speak the instructions to you as they happen.
I chose Mandy, a pleasant-sounding American girl. Although, for a fee, you also have the option of download the voice of John Cleese from the website. Personally, I'd prefer Method Man -- "Yo, bus' a left at this stoplight, nah'mean?" -- but beggars can't be choosers.
Mandy warns me to get in the proper lane two miles in advance of the turn. She can find me the nearest gas station, library or school, or take me to any address in the U.S. and Guam. But, unlike other navigators I've experienced, she doesn't talk too much or get all pissed off and yell at you when you make a wrong turn.
Our Realtor's system talks for nearly the entire ride and if you screw up, you get scolded: "TURN AROUND AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! TURN AROUND IMMEDIATELY!" Mandy simply recalculates the route from your mistake and pretends it never happened. Just like a girlfriend should.
It has changed my life. And it is helping the environment, because I'm using a helluva lot less gas, and therefore, making less pollution.
I never imagined I'd be quoting Barry Manilow on anything, but I have to say: "Oh Mandy, You came and you gave without taking.... and I need you today, oh Mandy."
OK, time for "Project Runway."
No more U-turns, or
punching steering wheel. Mandy
tells me where to go.
Well. I just made this list of all the stuff that needs to get done in the next day and a half. And I started to freak-the-fuck-out when it reached the bottom fourth of an 8x11 page of notebook paper.
So what's the logical thing to do? Sit down with the laptop and write a blog -- something that is not, incidentally, on that list. Whatever. I'm tired. I haven't been feeling well lately. And I was running around town for work, non-stop, all day.
A girl can only do so much before she hits the wall and needs a swig of vodka. And yes, it does fit into the Weight Watchers plan -- only 2 points! In fact, my good friend Stephanie -- who is also an incredibly talented writer; read her most excellent home-and-life-improvement blog here -- refers to vodka as "diet alcohol." Drink it straight up, and the overall calorie damage is pretty low. I haven't consulted my liver on any other potential damages, however.
Anyhoo, this is what brings me to my computer tonight: I need to extol the virtues of my Christmas present, a GPS navigation system for my car. Besides my dog, Lucy, this is the best, most useful gift I have ever received.
I have absolutely no sense of direction. I'm not sure how I existed before Mapquest. If someone watched me try to find places from above, it would look like a Family Circus installment:
Anyway, this device is like magic. My appreciation for it grows with each day of out-of-the-office assignments in random areas of town. In addition to a visual map and instructions, you can choose from several different voices who will speak the instructions to you as they happen.
I chose Mandy, a pleasant-sounding American girl. Although, for a fee, you also have the option of download the voice of John Cleese from the website. Personally, I'd prefer Method Man -- "Yo, bus' a left at this stoplight, nah'mean?" -- but beggars can't be choosers.
Mandy warns me to get in the proper lane two miles in advance of the turn. She can find me the nearest gas station, library or school, or take me to any address in the U.S. and Guam. But, unlike other navigators I've experienced, she doesn't talk too much or get all pissed off and yell at you when you make a wrong turn.
Our Realtor's system talks for nearly the entire ride and if you screw up, you get scolded: "TURN AROUND AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! TURN AROUND IMMEDIATELY!" Mandy simply recalculates the route from your mistake and pretends it never happened. Just like a girlfriend should.
It has changed my life. And it is helping the environment, because I'm using a helluva lot less gas, and therefore, making less pollution.
I never imagined I'd be quoting Barry Manilow on anything, but I have to say: "Oh Mandy, You came and you gave without taking.... and I need you today, oh Mandy."
OK, time for "Project Runway."
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