Likes and dislikes

Like:
Listening to Pump Up the Jam on Pandora while drinking coffee on the couch with my man.

Dislike:
How this reminds me of stirrup pants and scrunchy socks worn in multiples.

Like:
Sexy underwear.

Dislike:
Daily Victoria's Secret catalogs. OK, I GET IT! You want me to buy things! I will go online, you bastards! *I've tried to get them to stop sending me catalogs, but no dice.

Like:
Organization and organizational tools.

Dislike:
Things that defy stacking, labeling, categorizing. I want a place for everything and everything in its place.

Like:
How, when Bel Biv DeVoe's Poison comes up on my iPod, my man's reaction is not to laugh at me, but to sing:

Never trust a big butt and a smile... Poison!

Dislike:
Do I really have Bel Biv DeVoe on my iPod? YES, yes I do.

That is all.

Heredity

I am the product of my parents. I see this so frequently that I fully expect to wake up one day with my dad's bald head and glasses (no, not really - I have superb vision...).

Whenever I raise my voice for NO GOOD REASON, I think of my mom. When I close a drawer, but it doesn't quite close all the way, so I slam it, and then it bounces open even more, then I slam it harder and jam my finger in the process spouting obscenities, I think of my dad. Sensitive response to criticism?-Mom. Sarcastic, cutting remark as self-defense?-Dad. Obsessive counting?-Mom. Preoccupation with money?-Dad. Oh, the list goes on.

Luckily, my parents are not just freaks, they're also practical, loving people. So, getting indignant on someone else's behalf?-Mom. Generousity?-Dad. Made breathless by the beauty of a landscape?-Mom. Make others laugh until milk comes out their noses?-Dad. Just wanting everyone to get along?-Mom. Ardent desire to feed friends?-Dad.

The reason that I thought of this is because I was having breakfast this morning with my man (we've been able to have a lot of breakfasts recently) and we were eating lots of bacon - of course - when I was reminded of my great-grandfather. My mom has told me so many hilarious stories about this colorful, quirky, possibly anti-social guy. The bacon thing reminded me that he apparently ate 4 eggs and 6 strips of bacon for breakfast every day of his adult life. He also smoked and drank like a champ and he lived to be about 96. When he asked the doctor at his last check up (well into his 90s) if smoking was bad for his health (as his family suggested), the doctor replied "Nope".

So, perhaps like my great-grandfather, bacon will give me super-long-lasting life and health. I'm taking vitamins, too. Just in case bacon doesn't do the job...

Unpopular opinion:

David Sedaris is overrated.


There, I said it.






I feel so free.....

Strangely-timed post.

So, this is a post about my birthday. There's no better time to blog about your birthday than after you've digested all the details, which apparently takes just shy of 6 months...

Last September I turned 31. We weren't sure what to do on my birthday, which occurs over Labor Day weekend (most of the time). A few days prior, some friends and I went to a bachelorette party for a friend where one of the bridesmaids made a list of things that the bride had to complete before the party could end, so we approached my birthday with the same idea.

First on THE LIST: BRUNCH. Yeah, dude. Here's the lovely J, post-brunch, looking up at the Barbie balloons I'd been given. Those balloons lasted for more than a month. You may notice that J looks a little sad - well that's because after brunch, she had to go into work :(

After brunch, we got down to the business of getting items checked off THE LIST. Second: buying a whisk. This is no ordinary whisk, people. This whisk has a metal ball, inside a metal ball inside a traditional whisk. This is the whisk for people who are serious about aeration. This whisk can form soft, fluffy peaks out of egg whites in under a minute. Whisk. Whiiiiiiiiiiiisk! Look at how happy Dr. Monkey and I are about this (ok, we may also be happy because he's grabbing my butt. YEAH!) :
Right outside the whisk store, we were able to complete another item: Skipping through Davis Square. Now, it's tough to capture skipping in single-frame pictures, and we didn't think ahead and take video, sadly, but, you get the idea... A and I are world-class skippers!

After the skip-fest, it was off to the playground. If your birthday doesn't include any playground time, you are missing out, let me tell you. Here's an action shot of A and Dr. M. They're holding each other up so as to avoid falling in the lava pit below. Why do people consistently build playgrounds in such dangerous areas? It seems irresponsible...

Swinging. Swinging!
While holding hands, even. This was a tough skill to master, but we did an admirable job. And, you can almost see what color underwear I'm wearing... Made you look!

We hurried home from the park to play some lightning rounds of trivial pursuit. Here's how you play the lightning round: every question is worth a pie piece.
I won the first round in one turn:

So, they handicapped me. A couple of times:

With the day turning to evening and most of the items crossed off the list, there was still one thing that was causing me much shame. I needed to get my picture taken with a pug. This should have been pretty easy for two reasons:

1. Davis Square is lousy with pugs.

2. I have good pug-dar, and can sense their presence.
Sadly, we could not find ANY of them. It's like they were hiding for fear of being petted to within an inch of their lives. I'd pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I would not complete my list, and would therefore FAIL my birthday.

So, we all got dressed to go to a wonderful restaurant - Dali. Dr. M and I got in the car with J and M to pick up A. Leaving A's house, I screamed "PUG! pull over!". I sprinted giddily towards this young guy and his pug, and yammered, rather incoherently "There's a list...picture...your dog...PUUUUG!"

... ... ...

And he replied, somewhat guardedly:

"That's Pucket's choice."
Here I am with Pucket, who generously allowed me to be photographed with him.

Ahhhh. The only thing left on my list was to drink wine from a decanter at Dali, which is encouraged there. Here I am doing just that, while we eat unbelievably yummy tapas (including sizzling shrimp, pork tenderloin, succulent duck, and all manner of tiny-delicious things).

When it's your birthday at Dali, they not only sing you Happy Birthday, but they also bring out this inexplicable brass frog with a candle in it, and use a bubble generating device to soak you with soapy goodness. I'm not sure why they do it, but it's standard, and who am I to argue?

That's right. I am one happy birthday girl. I'm looking forward to what kinds of wonderful nonsense will be on my list in 6 months...

Likes and Dislikes

Just in case you ever needed to know:

Likes:
1. Coffees that are labeled "extra bold": I suspect that the moniker doesn't mean much, but I like to think it means that I am extra bold for drinking it.
2. Making lists: I can, and have, made lists of lists I have to make. I rarely cross off all of the items on a list (unless that list is a shopping list), and I usually just move the incomplete items to the top of a new list.
3. My lucky bamboo: My friend J bought me some lucky bamboo last year. It is consistently my healthiest plant. I love plants, but frequently kill them, so this is a very lucky bamboo, indeed.
4. My man's smile: Oh SO corny but true. What this guy can do with a smile, you have no idea. And when it's directed at me, I'm helpless to resist.
5. The expression "dog's bollocks": Man, is this not the best? Yes! It's the dog's bollocks! Fan.Damn.Tastic.
6. Indian food: I could probably extend this to include all of the foods that I didn't eat before I came to Boston and discovered that there are restaurants that are not owned by the good people who run Cracker Barrel, but Indian food is the best - tikka masala, saag paneer, NAAN, for crying out loud! Holy distended belly, Batman, I can't get enough!
7. Yoga. Did you know about this? This is amazing! And once I learn to breathe like I'm doing yoga instead of lamaze, I'm sure it'll be even better!
8. Nerds trapped in the bodies of supermodels: This covers most of the people I know, I swear. I know some very, very fine folk.
9. Champagne: I could drink champagne every day. Though it isn't always my first choice for drinking, it might be what I chose in one of those you're-trapped-on-a-desert-island-and-you-can-only-bring-a-lifetime-supply-of-one-liquor kind of scenarios.
10. Letting my freak flag fly: Man, the people who love me are REALLY indulgent of my quirkiness, and I think that's nice. In fact, I think it's the dog's bollocks!


Well, now that I've got all that down, I don't really feel like messing up the good vibes by outlining any of my dislikes. I'll get to that some other time. Right now, I got things to do - like cash my whopping unemployment check (you know you're jealous) so's I can buy myself some malt liquor and illegal narcotics.

Gratuitous pussy shots, here.

These are my cats. They are somewhat globular in nature. They are big and proud, tiger-striped and loud.

The back spoon is Conan (the Destroyer), and the inside spoon is Kail (the Conqueror). Conan is almost 6 and Kail is almost 4. They're brothers, though they share no common parents. I took them in so that they could have a good life, and I could have warm feet.

These guys have a lot in common. Like sleep. They both like to sleep for about 20 hours during the day.

By far, Conan is the more social of the two. Here he is talking to Fidel Castro on the phone. It really surprised me when he started speaking Spanish. How do you learn Spanish when you're only awake for 4 hours a day? And you don't leave the house? I suspect that Rosetta Stone program. (the phone is mine, and I had to pay A LOT for that call. The hand holding the phone belongs to Dr. Monkey. Dr. M is allergic to my cats, and so is VERY brave for getting so close.)

When they are awake, they like to role-play. Here they are playing Cops-and-Robbers. Conan is pretending to read Kail his rights after apprehending him. Kail, ever the compliant prisoner, is just going along with it.

Um, did I hear you get the catnip bag off of the fridge? Did I? Did I??

Pondering the state of healthcare, education, and the environment. That's what makes him so tired...

These guys are the cutest, funniest, lovingest kitties in the world. They are also the loudest, heaviest, whiniest shitties in the world. They have given me a lot (of hair), and taken a lot (of sleep). I’d just like to share them with the internet. It’s ok, they don’t really bite or scratch. But, you may have to scratch their butts…

Run of the mill update

Dang, February! Why you gotta be so COLD?!?!
After last week's warmth and sunshine-y-ness, this week's cold and bleakness could not be less welcome. Also, I think we're getting snow tomorrow and Thursday. Boo! Boo, says I!

Anyway, I did have a lovely weekend. Friday night I had dinner with A and M at A's place. We had soup and lasagna and coconut ice cream (in separate courses, not all mixed up in a bucket). Then Saturday (that day, if you remember), I went to yoga and then my man came over. We delighted in dirty martinis and pizza and champagne and smooching and... well, let's just say I'll never look at tongs the same way.
Sunday I went on a last minute trip to IKEA! with J and A. Technically, IKEA! is the special place that I share with J - we use all the furniture and pretend that all of the made-up rooms are our rooms. I particularly enjoy it when we get to rest on the red leather couch. BUT, A needed a new comforter and they were on hella-sale, so off we went. They even had free breakfast (which in Sweden they call frukost), including coffee. Necessary. Very necessary. After a successful IKEA! run, we parted ways only to meet up again later (no way do we get sick of each other, ladies and gents) for more food and chatting. Then I took J home and my man came by to ensure that he'd be first in line for breakfast. Bacon and eggs, of course.
Oh OH! I love the people I know!

On the job front, I got nothing. Except unemployment checks, that is. I'm still looking and fishing, but no jobs are bititng (this metaphor sucks). I can only hope that someone comes to their senses soon and realizes that they simply must have me for their new sitcom about kooky-thirtysomethings-and-their-Boston-hijinks. Please - you'd watch it.

Now it's time to run around the house three times in my towel and war paint - it's a rainjob-search dance. I hope it does some good. Then it's off to lunch with some of the best former co-workers a girl could ever have. Them, and beer (ol, in Sweden). YEAH!

This Saturday is...oh...you know.

It's supposed to be 52 degrees here in the Boston area today. That's warm enough to melt the ice on the driveway. Warm enough to mean that a walk is in order. Warm enough to have some amount of hope that Spring will show up eventually. Still... I'm not fooled. I KNOW that there are still too many days to come where my nose and toes will be froze.
My personal Room 101 never gets above 40 degrees.

Today is Wednesday. I have no current plans other than job-hunting, and that, my friends, is a thankless, fruitless effort (it would seem). That isn't what I'm actually focused on right now though. I'm focused on that day - Saturday. You know what Saturday is: it's the day that people buy over-priced roses and Russell Stover chocolates in the heart-shaped box. It's the day that every guy forgets to make reservations for, and has to make them at the last minute, and all he can get is a table too near to the bathrooms. It's the day when lovers are supposed to wear red-heart underwear. You know the day.

I have always had TERRIBLE those days (exception: last year- it was delightful because my lovely friends J and A came over and we watched Moulin Rouge and were silly - but that's a whole other kind of love...). Once, I was dumped on... that day. On another, the guy I was with was VERY proud of himself for fishing a warm Hershey's kiss out of his pocket as an acknowledgement of our love. On yet another occasion I was told by the boy I liked that I he couldn't like me because... well let's just say that he listed some of my flaws and it was mean.
Bad. Times.

Now, I do not expect much. In fact, I don't really expect anything. Maybe some togetherness. A bit of steamy lovin'. But I don't need expensive presents, or dinner, or the red-heart undies. I just want that day not to suck, and to spend it with the man I totally dig.

So, I have big plans with the man (have I told you about him? He's so fine). We will hang out. Order in some pizza. Maybe Netflix a good movie, run through a board game or two, and then, well, none of your business. I hope. I will also make cookies. I think chocolate chip cookies say "LOVE", no?

Wish me luck. It may be asking the heavens a bit too much to expect that they won't rain down the misery. Perhaps he'll realize he's gay, or that he can only be happy living in Turkmenistan, or that pizza wouldn't do my figure any favors. We'll see. I'll report back.

Anyway, here's to a superb that day for all of you.

My updated blog: let me show you it!

Q: What the F have you been doing? You haven't blogged in forever, and YOU'RE UNEMPLOYED for crying out loud!

A: Well, yeah. But look, I've been, um... there was this yoga class, and a trip to the museum, training the cats for the Cat-lympics, and oh yeah! I also joined Facebook, and do not tell me you don't know about that time-suck. For serious, people. GIVE ME A BREAK! I do what I want!

Anyway, now that all that unpleasantness is behind us...
So, yeah, I do not have a job. I'm now rounding out week 4 of the no-job-having, and there are not many jobs out there, let me tell you.
There are some nice things though. Here they are, in no particular order:
1. More time with my man, with whom I'm having a great time. (You may be thinking: Didn't you mysteriously break up in your last post? Well, yes, but things change, and sometimes for the better.)
2. More kitty snuggle time.
3. Sleeping in. Not excessively, but it's so nice to not have to get up to the alarm.
4. Netflix. Oh hells yes I am getting my money's worth from those motherfuckers.
5. Yoga - I took my first yoga class ever yesterday and the instructor said she was surprised I'd never done it before. She also said (and I swear I am not making this up) that I had the body of a dancer. After I laughed TO DEATH at that, I thanked her and said I'd be back. I will: that shit is awesome. Funny side note about yoga in the middle of winter though, with my eyes closed, the sound of 7 women deep breathing sounded a lot like a vacuum running with some pennies flying around inside.
6. Finding religion.
7. HA HA HA HA! Just kidding about #6.
8. Time to memorize lines for the play I'm in. I haven't really started this part yet, but I'm happy for the time since it's Shakespeare, and that dude wrote SERIOUS lines.
9. Random lunches mid-week with friends. These lunches include drinking.
10. There is little-to-no traffic in my home.

Things that are less nice:
1. Not having a jobby-job.
2. Not having much of a routine.
3. Cats, sitting on my head at all hours of the day.
4. The job thing.
5. Talking about the job thing.

Hmmm. I think that's all the catching up there is to do. I've watched some good movies (Hamlet 2, for instance, was comedy gold), eaten/made some delicious food (French Onion soup tonight with the lovely J), and done some introspection (I really do like Colgate better than Crest...).

So, I'll also try to be better at this thing.