The scene: bb and K are watching the slalom. Youngest enters as the announcer is listing the injuries Lindsey Vonn has suffered over the past year...
bb: look, sweetie, Lindsey Vonn has had nearly as many injuries as you!
Youngest: do I get a medal?
things I need/things I want/things I know to be true
It's been a heck of a February here in Tuvalu.
Busybusybusy is what we've been.
A trip to Chicago, K working several weekends and a few snow days to round things out.
But, there have been some constants...
I need:
Bras: yes, I'm sorry, gentlemen readers (how pleased am I that my boss doesn't have my URL?), I need bras. Turns out that the 15 pounds I lost a year ago doesn't seem to be coming back. And undershirts/camisoles may not be the way to go long-term. The problem: 32c doesn't seem to exist.
A pair of jeans: not Mom Jeans, not jeans in which the crack of my butt is exposed. Something in the middle. Don't even speak to me about $160 jeans, that's ridiculous. I need to go to the Gap and try on every variation of jeans in my size. I'm talking jeans for Fridays at work.
Shoes that are not boots that can be worn with skirts and dresses: black ones, please. I do not own a shoe for work that is slightly dressy and feminine. This is going to be almost as difficult as the bra issue.
I want:
Every appliance in the new Williams-Sonoma catalogue. From the $400 deep fryer (we killed our deep fryer) to the thing that slices garlic, I want it all. Who knew there was a thing to make "filled pancakes?" The WS catalogue tortures me with delicious-sounding recipes and beautiful table linens. Be still my heart.
To stop wearing my puffy coat. Don't get me wrong: I love winter. I love snow and ice and wind, but I am getting tired of dressing for battle each morning. It's all about which boots and what hat and where are the umbrellas? I've had enough.
To be just a little more like the Buxoms. Did you know (of course you don't) that upon rising in the morning, one of the adult Buxoms steeps a pot of tea and puts it in a thermal carafe, making it possible for each Buxom, upon rising (or house-guests for that matter) to pour a steaming hot, delicious cup of tea? While it's true that my K often brings me coffee in bed in the morning (on the weekends) we often don't see our offspring until the afternoon due to a series of events such as early grocery shopping or them sleeping very late. The Buxoms have lovely family oriented routines that I appreciate...they have afternoon tea together too, after school. I'd like that kind of time together. Could it be all about the tea?
Things I know to be true:
Wearing two pairs of sock to the office, no matter what the temperature is outside, is not a good idea.
It will snow again and they will close school. I wish they would deal with it as casually as they do in Chicago. When we have snow, the guys on television are all about predicting the apocalypse, the schools close and the railroad ceases to function. A good part of each February is spent preparing for/dealing with/recovering from two feet of snow. I just wish we didn't treat it like it was the end of the world.
Putting fewer clothes in the washing machine invariably results in cleaner clothing.
Busybusybusy is what we've been.
A trip to Chicago, K working several weekends and a few snow days to round things out.
But, there have been some constants...
I need:
Bras: yes, I'm sorry, gentlemen readers (how pleased am I that my boss doesn't have my URL?), I need bras. Turns out that the 15 pounds I lost a year ago doesn't seem to be coming back. And undershirts/camisoles may not be the way to go long-term. The problem: 32c doesn't seem to exist.
A pair of jeans: not Mom Jeans, not jeans in which the crack of my butt is exposed. Something in the middle. Don't even speak to me about $160 jeans, that's ridiculous. I need to go to the Gap and try on every variation of jeans in my size. I'm talking jeans for Fridays at work.
Shoes that are not boots that can be worn with skirts and dresses: black ones, please. I do not own a shoe for work that is slightly dressy and feminine. This is going to be almost as difficult as the bra issue.
I want:
Every appliance in the new Williams-Sonoma catalogue. From the $400 deep fryer (we killed our deep fryer) to the thing that slices garlic, I want it all. Who knew there was a thing to make "filled pancakes?" The WS catalogue tortures me with delicious-sounding recipes and beautiful table linens. Be still my heart.
To stop wearing my puffy coat. Don't get me wrong: I love winter. I love snow and ice and wind, but I am getting tired of dressing for battle each morning. It's all about which boots and what hat and where are the umbrellas? I've had enough.
To be just a little more like the Buxoms. Did you know (of course you don't) that upon rising in the morning, one of the adult Buxoms steeps a pot of tea and puts it in a thermal carafe, making it possible for each Buxom, upon rising (or house-guests for that matter) to pour a steaming hot, delicious cup of tea? While it's true that my K often brings me coffee in bed in the morning (on the weekends) we often don't see our offspring until the afternoon due to a series of events such as early grocery shopping or them sleeping very late. The Buxoms have lovely family oriented routines that I appreciate...they have afternoon tea together too, after school. I'd like that kind of time together. Could it be all about the tea?
Things I know to be true:
Wearing two pairs of sock to the office, no matter what the temperature is outside, is not a good idea.
It will snow again and they will close school. I wish they would deal with it as casually as they do in Chicago. When we have snow, the guys on television are all about predicting the apocalypse, the schools close and the railroad ceases to function. A good part of each February is spent preparing for/dealing with/recovering from two feet of snow. I just wish we didn't treat it like it was the end of the world.
Putting fewer clothes in the washing machine invariably results in cleaner clothing.
Survivor
Okay.
The truth of it is: I don't know if I am going to watch Survivor tonight but we, my friends, have a very important mission. Our very own Amy A., who comments daily, who is supportive and lovely and fun, OUR AMY A. is a finalist to be a contestant on Survivor! MY Survivor!
Our job?
To vote her IN.
It's simple.
Go here. Vote.
Go back again tomorrow and vote again, okay?
Because WHAT could be better than KNOWING one of the Survivors, I ask you?
NOTHING.
Vote!
The truth of it is: I don't know if I am going to watch Survivor tonight but we, my friends, have a very important mission. Our very own Amy A., who comments daily, who is supportive and lovely and fun, OUR AMY A. is a finalist to be a contestant on Survivor! MY Survivor!
Our job?
To vote her IN.
It's simple.
Go here. Vote.
Go back again tomorrow and vote again, okay?
Because WHAT could be better than KNOWING one of the Survivors, I ask you?
NOTHING.
Vote!
futher thoughts on the Olympics, UPDATED
I've been holding my eyes open with toothpicks each night. TOOTHPICKS, I TELL YOU. I watch and watch and watch and try to stay awake and the good stuff is not on television until well after ten o'clock. Sometimes I make it, sometimes I don't. I did just see Ashley McGyver (sp?) win the gold medal in ski-cross...and though I did find it exciting, I call bullshit on the whole ski-cross thing as I am not impressed with these new-fangled sports. Also? I can't believe I just wrote NEW-FANGLED.
Anyway.
I was all set to write about the ice skating/dancing - I had even grabbed some screen shots and made some notes about certain skaters and their outfits.
And then, I read this.
And, people, I know you regard me as witty and erudite, but I cannot out-write the fug-girls.
I luff the fug-girls and was reduced to actual lol-ing last night when I read their post.
Go.
Read.
UPDATE: you know who else did a satisfyingly snarky recap of the skating? KIM.
In other news: I am fighting off a nasty cold. My head is a little cloudy and my throat is a little scratchy and I am aware of my ears. None of this is a big deal but I'm tired and would like to either get the cold OR beat the cold.
Don't you love it when you are typing away and lose track of where your fingers are and type gibberish? Fluently? Watch: I'll move one key to the right and type -
drr? moe O s, pmr lru pgg/ upi;f mrbrt lmpe!
I do that ALL THE TIME!
The other night I was a little concerned about a sound my computer was making. It was sort of a clinking noise and would occur when I moved my laptop in a sudden way. K told me, just before he went to sleep that it was probably the mechanism that parks the hard-drive that was making the clinking noise. Then he went to sleep and I was left with that little tidbit of info.
What did I do?
I googled it and found the code to override the hard-drive parker-thing and deftly plugged it into my terminal-thingy even though the warnings and notices reminded me that it was a dangerous program to install (I'm over my head just describing this!).
It worked!
The clinking stopped instantly...and THEN I read more about what might happen if my hard-drive no longer had an automatic parker-thing and I FREAKED OUT.
It took nearly half an hour for me to undo what I had done and I was in a bit of a sweat but I undid it.
(Of course, I just tried to demonstrate it to K and was unable to, but I SWEAR: my hard-drive parker-thing is still working!)
Nail polish color advice for the soon-to-be-upon-us Spring? Unexpected neutrals!
I'm going with gray and it, surprisingly, matches almost all of my outfits.
It's Wednesday. Nothing wrong with THAT.
Anyway.
I was all set to write about the ice skating/dancing - I had even grabbed some screen shots and made some notes about certain skaters and their outfits.
And then, I read this.
And, people, I know you regard me as witty and erudite, but I cannot out-write the fug-girls.
I luff the fug-girls and was reduced to actual lol-ing last night when I read their post.
Go.
Read.
UPDATE: you know who else did a satisfyingly snarky recap of the skating? KIM.
In other news: I am fighting off a nasty cold. My head is a little cloudy and my throat is a little scratchy and I am aware of my ears. None of this is a big deal but I'm tired and would like to either get the cold OR beat the cold.
Don't you love it when you are typing away and lose track of where your fingers are and type gibberish? Fluently? Watch: I'll move one key to the right and type -
drr? moe O s, pmr lru pgg/ upi;f mrbrt lmpe!
I do that ALL THE TIME!
The other night I was a little concerned about a sound my computer was making. It was sort of a clinking noise and would occur when I moved my laptop in a sudden way. K told me, just before he went to sleep that it was probably the mechanism that parks the hard-drive that was making the clinking noise. Then he went to sleep and I was left with that little tidbit of info.
What did I do?
I googled it and found the code to override the hard-drive parker-thing and deftly plugged it into my terminal-thingy even though the warnings and notices reminded me that it was a dangerous program to install (I'm over my head just describing this!).
It worked!
The clinking stopped instantly...and THEN I read more about what might happen if my hard-drive no longer had an automatic parker-thing and I FREAKED OUT.
It took nearly half an hour for me to undo what I had done and I was in a bit of a sweat but I undid it.
(Of course, I just tried to demonstrate it to K and was unable to, but I SWEAR: my hard-drive parker-thing is still working!)
Nail polish color advice for the soon-to-be-upon-us Spring? Unexpected neutrals!
I'm going with gray and it, surprisingly, matches almost all of my outfits.
It's Wednesday. Nothing wrong with THAT.
genuis
Things Dorothy Parker Might Have Said, Had She Been a Mother.
"If you can't say anything nice about anyone else's children, come sit by me."
"If you can't say anything nice about anyone else's children, come sit by me."
"She knows her letters from A to B! Isn't she amazing?!"
"Brevity is the soul of high school musical productions."
"That child is learning eighteen languages but doesn't understand No in any of them."
"If you want to know what God thinks of children, just look at the people he gave them to."
"Money is no object; I want only enough to keep a nanny between me and my kids."
"Men seldom make passes at lactating lasses."
"The two most beautiful words in the English language are 'nap time'."
"I require only three things of a man. He must get up for night feedings and change diapers. Is that only two? Okay, I require only two things of a man."
"Childbirth pains you; diapers are damp,
Spit-up stains you and little feet stamp.
Abandonment's unlawful;
the pediatrician says he's hyperactive,
I'm going to commit suicide if you don't come home early tonight,
I mean it, I'm totally not kidding."
"Hi, I'm Dorothy... Timmy's mom. "
by Stephany Aulenback and Dennis Stacey
things I'm not sure about
Do I need a $200 leather handkerchief case?
Must a lovely mail bag cost $795?
Expensive to visit and packed to the gills with visitors. Not so much fun.
I think I'd like my $250 ballet flats to be flat.
Prom dresses for grown-ups.
Hot fruit. I'm just not sure about hot fruit.
Sweater dresses with binding at the bottom hem.
Wait for it to load, then hit play - you won't be sure of your importance in the universe either.
Must a lovely mail bag cost $795?
Expensive to visit and packed to the gills with visitors. Not so much fun.
I think I'd like my $250 ballet flats to be flat.
Prom dresses for grown-ups.
Hot fruit. I'm just not sure about hot fruit.
Sweater dresses with binding at the bottom hem.
Wait for it to load, then hit play - you won't be sure of your importance in the universe either.
the whirlwind
I'm home from Chicago where I was flown to attend two parties.
Isn’t that a lovely thing? One kind person flew me out and Poppy put me up – she has other digs near the city (there was a devastating fire at her apartment) and I was made to feel at home with her family.
What did we do in Chicago?
A lot.
I arrived at noon on Friday and Poppy whisked me off for lunch and a manicure (a very stylish putty gray, thank you).
We just about had time to browse around her tony town and dump my bags before it was time to consider our 80’s ensembles.
Poppy dressed as she did in the 80’s – working-girl skirt, white shirt with the collar up, black sweater and heels.
I went with the Annie Hall as it was more comfortable and funnier. (Most people didn’t get it but I didn’t mind.)
There were some pretty fabulous outfits, I have to tell you, but Angie took the, uh, cake.
It was Angie’s birthday, you see, and she went all out.
She bought a wedding dress and then Project Runway-ed it by ripping the bottom of it, refashioning the train and tearing out all the illusion near the neckline. She out Madonna-ed Madonna. She made a boy-toy belt, she made her hair crazy tousled and piled on the crosses and bracelets, and she greeted each of the guests at the door of Jen’s house.
Wendy and Carol were sorority sisters with headbands and sister sweaters.
Fletch was Maverick.
Jen was her preppy self.
There was a Miami Vice guy and a couple of punks and some other Madonnas but I think my favorite was the Robert Palmer girl! The ONLY thing holding me back from doing that costume was the guitar, and, without the guitar, the joke is not as well done. (And there is no way I would bring a guitar on the plane!)
Back to Poppy’s we went, late that night and slept in, just a little.
We re-grouped, Poppy and me and Wendy and Angie and Carol at Jen’s, where they were staying. Jen hosted some snacks and lovely pink hair-of-the-dog beverages and we headed out to meet the other Chicago Jen at Anthropologie for some afternoon shopping and then Jen D. acted as a human GPS and lead us, by bicycle, with the rest of us in the van, to a quirky thrift shop. (I have pictures of this too....)
We didn’t have much time to spend there, however, as we were all due at a chic Mediterranean restaurant for Angie’s birthday dinner. (With a trip back to Poppy’s in between to freshen up and change and arrange for dinner for her neglected children.)
The dinner was great fun: good food, fun company, fabulous wait-staff and lots of laughs.
After that? Back to Jen’s for a dramatic reading of a chapter from her new book, which I’ll give you a sneak preview of: I! ME! BLACKBIRD! figure prominently in Chapter 2 (along with my blog buddies).
I would encourage you to order this book immediately as the short excerpt I was privy to on Saturday night had me in spasms of laughter.
That's all for now, my friends! I am very busy watching the Ice Dancing! And I luff it!
I have to find time to post about the costumes! I must.
More later...
Isn’t that a lovely thing? One kind person flew me out and Poppy put me up – she has other digs near the city (there was a devastating fire at her apartment) and I was made to feel at home with her family.
What did we do in Chicago?
A lot.
I arrived at noon on Friday and Poppy whisked me off for lunch and a manicure (a very stylish putty gray, thank you).
We just about had time to browse around her tony town and dump my bags before it was time to consider our 80’s ensembles.
Poppy dressed as she did in the 80’s – working-girl skirt, white shirt with the collar up, black sweater and heels.
I went with the Annie Hall as it was more comfortable and funnier. (Most people didn’t get it but I didn’t mind.)
There were some pretty fabulous outfits, I have to tell you, but Angie took the, uh, cake.
It was Angie’s birthday, you see, and she went all out.
She bought a wedding dress and then Project Runway-ed it by ripping the bottom of it, refashioning the train and tearing out all the illusion near the neckline. She out Madonna-ed Madonna. She made a boy-toy belt, she made her hair crazy tousled and piled on the crosses and bracelets, and she greeted each of the guests at the door of Jen’s house.
Wendy and Carol were sorority sisters with headbands and sister sweaters.
Fletch was Maverick.
Jen was her preppy self.
There was a Miami Vice guy and a couple of punks and some other Madonnas but I think my favorite was the Robert Palmer girl! The ONLY thing holding me back from doing that costume was the guitar, and, without the guitar, the joke is not as well done. (And there is no way I would bring a guitar on the plane!)
Back to Poppy’s we went, late that night and slept in, just a little.
We re-grouped, Poppy and me and Wendy and Angie and Carol at Jen’s, where they were staying. Jen hosted some snacks and lovely pink hair-of-the-dog beverages and we headed out to meet the other Chicago Jen at Anthropologie for some afternoon shopping and then Jen D. acted as a human GPS and lead us, by bicycle, with the rest of us in the van, to a quirky thrift shop. (I have pictures of this too....)
We didn’t have much time to spend there, however, as we were all due at a chic Mediterranean restaurant for Angie’s birthday dinner. (With a trip back to Poppy’s in between to freshen up and change and arrange for dinner for her neglected children.)
The dinner was great fun: good food, fun company, fabulous wait-staff and lots of laughs.
After that? Back to Jen’s for a dramatic reading of a chapter from her new book, which I’ll give you a sneak preview of: I! ME! BLACKBIRD! figure prominently in Chapter 2 (along with my blog buddies).
I would encourage you to order this book immediately as the short excerpt I was privy to on Saturday night had me in spasms of laughter.
That's all for now, my friends! I am very busy watching the Ice Dancing! And I luff it!
I have to find time to post about the costumes! I must.
More later...
three days in Chicago
What's interesting about this is that I went to great lengths to pack possible costumes for the tremendous 80's party I attended last night (oh the outfits! how did I not even think of being a Robert Palmer girl?) and seem to have not packed a single thing to wear this weekend.
Actually, I exaggerate: I brought an extra black turtleneck.
My Minnie Pants from JCrew?
Very versatile.
Actually, I exaggerate: I brought an extra black turtleneck.
My Minnie Pants from JCrew?
Very versatile.
an IM with Middle, in which I quote from McSweeney's
bb: Medical Treatments Prescribed By My Mother, a General Internist, for My Varying Ailments.
By My Mother, a General Internist
BY EVA MESZAROS
Stomachache, age 9:
"Take some Tylenol."
Headache, age 11:
"Take some Tylenol."
Twisted ankle, age 14:
"Take some Tylenol."
(In response to my inquiry as to whether I should ice it: "Yeah, sure. If you want.")
Nausea, age 15:
"Are you taking drugs?"
Back pain, age 16:
"Take some Tylenol. And go to the gym."
Depression, age 19:
"Enjoy the weight loss!"
Insomnia, age 22:
"You should move back home."
Stress, age 25:
"Take extra-strength Tylenol."
Middle: yeah
ha
bb: is that a genuine ha or a shut-up mom ha?
Middle : haha
a little of both
By My Mother, a General Internist
BY EVA MESZAROS
Stomachache, age 9:
"Take some Tylenol."
Headache, age 11:
"Take some Tylenol."
Twisted ankle, age 14:
"Take some Tylenol."
(In response to my inquiry as to whether I should ice it: "Yeah, sure. If you want.")
Nausea, age 15:
"Are you taking drugs?"
Back pain, age 16:
"Take some Tylenol. And go to the gym."
Depression, age 19:
"Enjoy the weight loss!"
Insomnia, age 22:
"You should move back home."
Stress, age 25:
"Take extra-strength Tylenol."
Middle: yeah
ha
bb: is that a genuine ha or a shut-up mom ha?
Middle : haha
a little of both
three days in Chicago
I'm leaving at Dawn's Crack tomorrow and I've just finished packing.
What am I bringing for three action-packed days in Chicago?
Well, I'll tell you - I'm attending two parties and that's what I'm blaming for the extra bulk in my tiny suitcase...
I've got two possible 80's outfits:
The Annie Hall (don't split hairs, it was 1976) which consists of a white shirt, black necktie, black vest and baggy tan trousers and those eyeglasses she wore.* **
The Ally Sheedy from The Breakfast Club: long skirt, big sweater, black tights, Cons.
I've also packed a dress to wear to the party on Saturday, with accessories and shoes (which are not comfortable enough to wear on the plane) and a slip, my toiletries, gifts for my hostesses and a couple of scarves. Oh, and underwear.
What this boils down to is an unbelievable amount of luggage for a very short stay.
I can't remember if I packed my legwarmers.
*K says: with those eyeglasses, you could go as Woody Allen.
**My mom says: she's taller than Woody Allen!
What am I bringing for three action-packed days in Chicago?
Well, I'll tell you - I'm attending two parties and that's what I'm blaming for the extra bulk in my tiny suitcase...
I've got two possible 80's outfits:
The Annie Hall (don't split hairs, it was 1976) which consists of a white shirt, black necktie, black vest and baggy tan trousers and those eyeglasses she wore.* **
The Ally Sheedy from The Breakfast Club: long skirt, big sweater, black tights, Cons.
I've also packed a dress to wear to the party on Saturday, with accessories and shoes (which are not comfortable enough to wear on the plane) and a slip, my toiletries, gifts for my hostesses and a couple of scarves. Oh, and underwear.
What this boils down to is an unbelievable amount of luggage for a very short stay.
I can't remember if I packed my legwarmers.
*K says: with those eyeglasses, you could go as Woody Allen.
**My mom says: she's taller than Woody Allen!
An Olympic Moment
The scene: K, bb and Oldest are watching the snowboarding qualifying runs.
bb: how old is that guy? 12?
K: twenty one.
bb: (at Oldest) hey, feel kinda old? I mean, when the Olympic Athletes are younger than you...
Oldest: yeah, yeah...
Later, while awed by the speed skating:
bb: no one races like Apolo Ohno.
Oldest: that's cause he races like it's a chess game.
bb: you're right...
bb: how old is that guy? 12?
K: twenty one.
bb: (at Oldest) hey, feel kinda old? I mean, when the Olympic Athletes are younger than you...
Oldest: yeah, yeah...
Later, while awed by the speed skating:
bb: no one races like Apolo Ohno.
Oldest: that's cause he races like it's a chess game.
bb: you're right...
80's fashions
I'm going to an 80's party next weekend. I went to one last year and wore a black vinyl mini skirt. This time, I was thinking I'd like to wear something different.
What I'd really love to do is show up in a replica of Princess Diana's wedding dress. Imagine?
It might be tough to wear at a party, though.
I did a little internet research as I was thinking of wearing an 80's prom dress...
Looks like fun, doesn't it?
Strapless is, apparently, the way to go!
I'm not sure I know the difference between and 80's prom dress and a BAD prom dress.
I think I may have to reconsider my fall-back plan: black leggings, K's shirt belted, ankle socks and heels.
I'm going to need some drinks...
What I'd really love to do is show up in a replica of Princess Diana's wedding dress. Imagine?
It might be tough to wear at a party, though.
I did a little internet research as I was thinking of wearing an 80's prom dress...
Looks like fun, doesn't it?
Strapless is, apparently, the way to go!
I'm not sure I know the difference between and 80's prom dress and a BAD prom dress.
I think I may have to reconsider my fall-back plan: black leggings, K's shirt belted, ankle socks and heels.
I'm going to need some drinks...
An Olympic Moment
The scene: bb is relaxing on her bed, watching the Men's Figure Skating. Middle is downstairs. She calls him for a comment on the action:
This guy? Viktor? IS Twilight On Ice.
They hang up.
This guy? Viktor? IS Twilight On Ice.
They hang up.
further thoughts on the (Winter) Olympics
Sports I might attempt based on the outfits:
Ice Dancing.
I don't need to say much here, do I?
The opportunity for drama appeals to me greatly. And how often do you see ice dancers in black with touches of gray? I ask you. NEVER.
Speed Skating.
Finally, a chance for my thick thighs to be "athletic." I'd have to pray that my country would choose a decent pattern and the hood might bother me a bit, but the idea of wearing special gloves and sunglasses appeals to me greatly.
Figure Skating.
Don't get confused! These outfits are different to the Ice Dancing duds. For Figure Skating I'd wear gray. Gray with black.
Curling.
I haven't seen any coverage yet, but I did see people in argyle pants! Count me in!
Sports I would not attempt, based solely on the outfits:
Hockey.
I think the helmets this time around are an abomination and could not play hockey with all that equipment on my head even while I understand that they are absolutely necessary.
Mogul Skiing.
First of all: AS IF.
Secondly: baggybaggybaggy = not flattering!
Bobsled.
I don't like the shoes.
Ice Dancing.
I don't need to say much here, do I?
The opportunity for drama appeals to me greatly. And how often do you see ice dancers in black with touches of gray? I ask you. NEVER.
Speed Skating.
Finally, a chance for my thick thighs to be "athletic." I'd have to pray that my country would choose a decent pattern and the hood might bother me a bit, but the idea of wearing special gloves and sunglasses appeals to me greatly.
Figure Skating.
Don't get confused! These outfits are different to the Ice Dancing duds. For Figure Skating I'd wear gray. Gray with black.
Curling.
I haven't seen any coverage yet, but I did see people in argyle pants! Count me in!
Sports I would not attempt, based solely on the outfits:
Hockey.
I think the helmets this time around are an abomination and could not play hockey with all that equipment on my head even while I understand that they are absolutely necessary.
Mogul Skiing.
First of all: AS IF.
Secondly: baggybaggybaggy = not flattering!
Bobsled.
I don't like the shoes.
Puccini
Listening to A Prairie Home Companion on Saturday, we were treated to a rendition of Nessun Dorma - which prompted us to listen to several versions:
Mario Lanza. Not bad. Old school. Beautiful women, but I digress.
Paul Potts. "Embedding disabled by request." Isn't that interesting?
Pavarotti. Brilliant. (And such drama!)
Andrea Bocelli. Can I say? Meh.
Placido Domingo. Not bad.
Michael Bolton? We couldn't sit through the entire aria.
Finally,
The Three Tenors.
Our favorite?
Pavarotti.
Mario Lanza. Not bad. Old school. Beautiful women, but I digress.
Paul Potts. "Embedding disabled by request." Isn't that interesting?
Pavarotti. Brilliant. (And such drama!)
Andrea Bocelli. Can I say? Meh.
Placido Domingo. Not bad.
Michael Bolton? We couldn't sit through the entire aria.
Finally,
The Three Tenors.
Our favorite?
Pavarotti.
An Olympic Moment
The scene: bb and K are watching mogul skiing on the Olympics.
Middle enters and observes:
This? Is like getting your ass kicked over and over again, getting shot into the air and then getting spun around really really fast.
These guys must just fall over after this.
He exits.
Middle enters and observes:
This? Is like getting your ass kicked over and over again, getting shot into the air and then getting spun around really really fast.
These guys must just fall over after this.
He exits.
things I googled yesterday
Dan Jansen. Needed the whole story on his sister's death after a heart-wrenching Visa commercial.
Eddie The Eagle. Filled in Oldest.
Agitator won't spin. The washing machine needs a repair.
How to eat a dragon fruit. It was dessert.
Hyundai Tucson. It's never too soon to think about the next vehicle (March 2011).
For Youngest, who's feeling very 15, on Valentine's Day:
I love you.
Eddie The Eagle. Filled in Oldest.
Agitator won't spin. The washing machine needs a repair.
How to eat a dragon fruit. It was dessert.
Hyundai Tucson. It's never too soon to think about the next vehicle (March 2011).
For Youngest, who's feeling very 15, on Valentine's Day:
I love you.
An Olympic Moment
The scene: bb and K are watching ski jumping on the Olympics. A fire roars in the fireplace, the yard is blanketed in snow.
Middle enters and observes:
This is just majestic jumping? On skis?
He exits.
Middle enters and observes:
This is just majestic jumping? On skis?
He exits.
one word challenge
It's Saturday and I'm beat. But my pal catsteevens has a meme for me!
Cell phone? Old
Hair? Bobbed
Mother? Better
Father? Gone
Favorite Food? Salty
Dream last night? Forgotten
Drink? Tea
Dream/Goal? Comfort
Room you are in? Bedroom
Hobby? Blogging
Fear? Clowns
Where do you see yourself in 6 years? Older
Something you are not? Tall
Favorite Muffins? Lemon
Wish list item? Travel
Where did you grow up? Tuvalu
What is the last thing you did? Laundry
What are you wearing? Jeans
Favorite TV Show? None
Pets? Dog
Friends? Some
Your life? Nice
Your mood? Quiet
Facebook? Nope
Favorite place to eat? Here
Missing Someone? Nope
Your vehicle? Jeep
What you aren't wearing? Shoes
Favorite Store? Anthro
Favorite Color? Black
Last time you laughed? Yesterday
Last time you cried? Tuesday
Best friend? K
Place you go to over and over? Supermarket
There's nothing like a meme to start the weekend.
notes from the salon
I rarely think about when my boys were babies. It's so long ago and, if I gave it much thought, I know I'd get very sentimental. Believe me, I'd be sentimental about the bad parts of babyhood as well as the good parts...but yesterday I was sitting and waiting just two minutes for the fellow who cuts my hair to fetch me and a mother and baby were sitting next to me and I had a moment.
The baby was a couple of weeks old and bound onto her with one of those great long wraps of fabric. He had a teeny hat on and she, well, she looked as shell-shocked as one does when one has a two-week-old baby and needs a haircut. She was in jeans and a turtleneck and a fleece hat and she was thin and sleepy looking. She had the smallest lump near her middle and her corduroys were maternity pants - all these traces of new motherhood.
I wanted to catch her eye, to admire the baby, to smile at her, but she was staring straight ahead and nothing broke her gaze.
I wanted to give her that older-mom knowing smile, but never had the chance.
Remember when they were tiny and we were sosososo terribly tired?
Remember smelling the tops of their heads?
Those tiny feet?
See?
Now I've gotten sentimental.
A little boy washed my hair and brought me to my stylist who did his usual cooing over me.
You have perfect hair.
Really? I chopped the bangs myself a couple of weeks ago.
Perfect! Wait! Let me look at you.
You know, I may have to do a little Anna Wintour on you!
Really?
Yes - I like the way your bangs are falling on your face.
Snipsnipsnip, tousle, blower.
Do not EVER use a blow-dryer on the bangs.
Okay!
And here, I've written down the formula for the color you should be - take it to Ricky's and have them show you how to mix it...and don't worry if you mess it up, I'll fix it for free!
He's lovely, isn't he?
And I am just a little Anna Wintour-ed now.
Here.
I am carefully checking an important document.
With my new hair.
The baby was a couple of weeks old and bound onto her with one of those great long wraps of fabric. He had a teeny hat on and she, well, she looked as shell-shocked as one does when one has a two-week-old baby and needs a haircut. She was in jeans and a turtleneck and a fleece hat and she was thin and sleepy looking. She had the smallest lump near her middle and her corduroys were maternity pants - all these traces of new motherhood.
I wanted to catch her eye, to admire the baby, to smile at her, but she was staring straight ahead and nothing broke her gaze.
I wanted to give her that older-mom knowing smile, but never had the chance.
Remember when they were tiny and we were sosososo terribly tired?
Remember smelling the tops of their heads?
Those tiny feet?
See?
Now I've gotten sentimental.
A little boy washed my hair and brought me to my stylist who did his usual cooing over me.
You have perfect hair.
Really? I chopped the bangs myself a couple of weeks ago.
Perfect! Wait! Let me look at you.
You know, I may have to do a little Anna Wintour on you!
Really?
Yes - I like the way your bangs are falling on your face.
Snipsnipsnip, tousle, blower.
Do not EVER use a blow-dryer on the bangs.
Okay!
And here, I've written down the formula for the color you should be - take it to Ricky's and have them show you how to mix it...and don't worry if you mess it up, I'll fix it for free!
He's lovely, isn't he?
And I am just a little Anna Wintour-ed now.
Here.
I am carefully checking an important document.
With my new hair.
Survivor
We are very excited!
Winter television doldrums may be alleviated!
We are thrilled to know the players - no learning curve.
So, the South Pacific (no surprise there) is the setting for the Epic Battle that IS Survivor 20, Heroes VS. Villains.
Ten Heroes playing against Ten Villains.
From the start we hear Rupert VS. Bad Russell.
Helicopters in FORMATION.
James? Nothing wrong with him. I'm pretty sure he smells the way I want my man to smell AND he's on a horse.
I'm reminiscing about Colby and Cirie and Fireman Tom.
Tough shot to time, that last one in the into with Jeff on the rocks and four helicopters just overhead.
Oh, to listen to Coach and Rupert...to see Pavarti and Boston Rob...these may well BE people who can outplay Bad Russell.
If Middle was home he could tell me about the helicopters - alas, he is out with his friend J, in J's new car.
The Villains land on the beach with their swaggers and attitudes.
The scenery is beautiful. The Survivors are fresh-faced and enthusiastic.
People named their children Colby ten years ago after Survivor?
What kind of cap is Jeff wearing? (A Survivor baseball cap.)
Jeff goes over some history on the beach. He explains how some ended up being classified as Villains and some Heroes.
Who is intimidated by whom?
Consider these things quickly as the teams move into the first challenge.
Winners get fire.
Women are wrestling in the sand, much is pixalated out of view!
But wait - Stephanie has dislocated her shoulder!
OH DEAR LORD.
One crunch and she's back in the game.
(You don't need to know what the actual challenge IS, do you? They dig for a bag in the sand and have to bring it back to their team. No idea what's in the bag - I assume puzzle pieces. Oh, K tells me there is NOTHING in the damn bag.)
Have I mentioned the epic music?
Colby is "schooled by Coach."
Sandra undoes Sugar's top but that DOES NOT STOP SUGAR. Topless, she scores!
Tyson is wearing a Mankini.
James scores big-time and the Heroes win the reward.
But Rupert has been injured and has a broken toe.
The teams head to their camps.
Russell is ready but thinks he'll have to stay on his toes.
He bonds with his team but he's ready to "whoop the All-Stars."
He confides in Danielle. He tells her to trust him. He tells her he'll take her to the final two.
She believes him and will "stick with him" until she doesn't believe him.
He tells the same thing to Pavarti. She tells us she sees through it. She's "making a deal with the devil but wants the devil on her side."
At the Heroes camp, I am intrigued by Sugar's outfit and the rain starts to pour. She tries to organize the team and they start building when they discover chickens wandering around their site. Can they trap them with a net?
Yep.
Is it a coincidence that chickens are just roaming through their camp?
Jerri and Coach have a "connection" and her team sees it.
I sorta like Courtney and Coach and Jerri too - though I'm not overly fond of the Villains, you know, cause I'm a Good Guy.
Amanda and Cirie and James are a good team but have to play it down.
Tom and Jerri discuss who to ally with.
Tom and JT discuss alliances.
The Villains work on making fire and they are pretty damned efficient. Color me IMPRESSED.
Even Coach is impressed.
Rupert can't make fire. Cirie is not impressed. (And I miss who does succeed.)
Rob is climbing for coconuts but craps out as it's "higher than it looks." He throws the gauntlet for Coach to give it a try. Sandra and Rob makes bets on whether or not Coach will make it.
On night two, Sugar decides she needs some cuddle time. Colby is NOT interested. He's annoyed.
Some of the episode is missed as I converse regarding The Great Featherbed Incident. Remind me to explain The Great Featherbed Incident to you. Later.
It's time for the second challenge of the night. Build a puzzle climb a tower set fire into a barrel - for immunity. There's swimming in there too but I've lost track of where. Ah! Build a boat! In the water! Then take it apart to use for climbing to the puzzle!
The Heroes have an early lead but it's a four layer puzzle and the Villains catch up as the Heroes must re-start the puzzle.
The Villains pull into the lead and are ready to climb to the top of the pyramid-thing and light their caldron of fire.
(And there's still 30 minutes of show left...sheesh.)
The winners return victorious. But who will the Heroes send home? The Villains speculate. Russell speculates on how to weaken the other tribe. And the other tribe? Rupert is feeling humble. JT, Sugar, Cirie and Rupert discuss Amanda leaving. Sugar cries. Apparently she's a crier? I don't remember. Her team bring the idea of taking Sugar out to Tom but Tom thinks Cirie is a big threat and tells the guys that she's a brilliant strategist and maybe she should be the one to go.
Cirie doesn't want Sugar to go at this point - she likes to keep annoying people around.
The Tribal Council building is a series of tree houses 40 feet in the air. The music pounds as the team gather and light their torches. Jeff discusses relationships and alliances. I hadn't realized that this is Cirie's third game. Tom has won also. James says that no one was focused. Cirie doesn't think one challenge should have any influence on the voting.
I'm tired and ready for the vote!
It's looking like a landslide...Sugar?
Wait, Amanda gets a vote...
but Sugar goes - and I'm not sorry.
It's pouring rain as the Heroes head back to camp.
Stay tuned.
(Can I mention here, at 49 minutes in, that I am not ready for another hour of this? Don't get me wrong, I love this show but another hour? I've had a long day.)
Winter television doldrums may be alleviated!
We are thrilled to know the players - no learning curve.
So, the South Pacific (no surprise there) is the setting for the Epic Battle that IS Survivor 20, Heroes VS. Villains.
Ten Heroes playing against Ten Villains.
From the start we hear Rupert VS. Bad Russell.
Helicopters in FORMATION.
James? Nothing wrong with him. I'm pretty sure he smells the way I want my man to smell AND he's on a horse.
I'm reminiscing about Colby and Cirie and Fireman Tom.
Tough shot to time, that last one in the into with Jeff on the rocks and four helicopters just overhead.
Oh, to listen to Coach and Rupert...to see Pavarti and Boston Rob...these may well BE people who can outplay Bad Russell.
If Middle was home he could tell me about the helicopters - alas, he is out with his friend J, in J's new car.
The Villains land on the beach with their swaggers and attitudes.
The scenery is beautiful. The Survivors are fresh-faced and enthusiastic.
People named their children Colby ten years ago after Survivor?
What kind of cap is Jeff wearing? (A Survivor baseball cap.)
Jeff goes over some history on the beach. He explains how some ended up being classified as Villains and some Heroes.
Who is intimidated by whom?
Consider these things quickly as the teams move into the first challenge.
Winners get fire.
Women are wrestling in the sand, much is pixalated out of view!
But wait - Stephanie has dislocated her shoulder!
OH DEAR LORD.
One crunch and she's back in the game.
(You don't need to know what the actual challenge IS, do you? They dig for a bag in the sand and have to bring it back to their team. No idea what's in the bag - I assume puzzle pieces. Oh, K tells me there is NOTHING in the damn bag.)
Have I mentioned the epic music?
Colby is "schooled by Coach."
Sandra undoes Sugar's top but that DOES NOT STOP SUGAR. Topless, she scores!
Tyson is wearing a Mankini.
James scores big-time and the Heroes win the reward.
But Rupert has been injured and has a broken toe.
The teams head to their camps.
Russell is ready but thinks he'll have to stay on his toes.
He bonds with his team but he's ready to "whoop the All-Stars."
He confides in Danielle. He tells her to trust him. He tells her he'll take her to the final two.
She believes him and will "stick with him" until she doesn't believe him.
He tells the same thing to Pavarti. She tells us she sees through it. She's "making a deal with the devil but wants the devil on her side."
At the Heroes camp, I am intrigued by Sugar's outfit and the rain starts to pour. She tries to organize the team and they start building when they discover chickens wandering around their site. Can they trap them with a net?
Yep.
Is it a coincidence that chickens are just roaming through their camp?
Jerri and Coach have a "connection" and her team sees it.
I sorta like Courtney and Coach and Jerri too - though I'm not overly fond of the Villains, you know, cause I'm a Good Guy.
Amanda and Cirie and James are a good team but have to play it down.
Tom and Jerri discuss who to ally with.
Tom and JT discuss alliances.
The Villains work on making fire and they are pretty damned efficient. Color me IMPRESSED.
Even Coach is impressed.
Rupert can't make fire. Cirie is not impressed. (And I miss who does succeed.)
Rob is climbing for coconuts but craps out as it's "higher than it looks." He throws the gauntlet for Coach to give it a try. Sandra and Rob makes bets on whether or not Coach will make it.
On night two, Sugar decides she needs some cuddle time. Colby is NOT interested. He's annoyed.
Some of the episode is missed as I converse regarding The Great Featherbed Incident. Remind me to explain The Great Featherbed Incident to you. Later.
It's time for the second challenge of the night. Build a puzzle climb a tower set fire into a barrel - for immunity. There's swimming in there too but I've lost track of where. Ah! Build a boat! In the water! Then take it apart to use for climbing to the puzzle!
The Heroes have an early lead but it's a four layer puzzle and the Villains catch up as the Heroes must re-start the puzzle.
The Villains pull into the lead and are ready to climb to the top of the pyramid-thing and light their caldron of fire.
(And there's still 30 minutes of show left...sheesh.)
The winners return victorious. But who will the Heroes send home? The Villains speculate. Russell speculates on how to weaken the other tribe. And the other tribe? Rupert is feeling humble. JT, Sugar, Cirie and Rupert discuss Amanda leaving. Sugar cries. Apparently she's a crier? I don't remember. Her team bring the idea of taking Sugar out to Tom but Tom thinks Cirie is a big threat and tells the guys that she's a brilliant strategist and maybe she should be the one to go.
Cirie doesn't want Sugar to go at this point - she likes to keep annoying people around.
The Tribal Council building is a series of tree houses 40 feet in the air. The music pounds as the team gather and light their torches. Jeff discusses relationships and alliances. I hadn't realized that this is Cirie's third game. Tom has won also. James says that no one was focused. Cirie doesn't think one challenge should have any influence on the voting.
I'm tired and ready for the vote!
It's looking like a landslide...Sugar?
Wait, Amanda gets a vote...
but Sugar goes - and I'm not sorry.
It's pouring rain as the Heroes head back to camp.
Stay tuned.
(Can I mention here, at 49 minutes in, that I am not ready for another hour of this? Don't get me wrong, I love this show but another hour? I've had a long day.)
Survivor preview
I usually write up a little post on the Survivors before a new season starts.
I toss that off casually, as though I don't spend time on the internet learning about each of the contestants and constructing brilliantly snarky comments about each of the players.
But I do spend time researching and then building the snark.
Wait. What was I talking about?
Survivor begins again tonight!
It's billed as Heroes Vs. Villains and it's two teams comprised of former contestants.
Do you really need me to tell you about Rupert or Sugar or Pavarti or Boston Rob?
No? I didn't think so.
The deal is: my mom is bringing a brisket over, we're watching Survivor and I'll recap it.
Here's my new favorite commercial:
I toss that off casually, as though I don't spend time on the internet learning about each of the contestants and constructing brilliantly snarky comments about each of the players.
But I do spend time researching and then building the snark.
Wait. What was I talking about?
Survivor begins again tonight!
It's billed as Heroes Vs. Villains and it's two teams comprised of former contestants.
Do you really need me to tell you about Rupert or Sugar or Pavarti or Boston Rob?
No? I didn't think so.
The deal is: my mom is bringing a brisket over, we're watching Survivor and I'll recap it.
Here's my new favorite commercial:
random
Let's just suppose we can speak French, shall we? Then, let's watch this charmant little video by MadMoiZelle and pretend we can understand MOST of what she is telling us about Parisian fashion.
BFJ, she said. Boyfriend jacket...you fool. I know! Honestly, that is a direct translation. I do not know why her hair appears to be a wig when she removes her hat. Voila!
I am home today. Sort of. I am supposed to be taking Youngest for his asthma treatment injections even though we await Snowpocalypse! Yes, hundreds of feet of snow are expected to drop upon my part of the world and the nurse called me several times yesterday to cancel/re-schedule/cancel/schedule again his appointment over the course of the day. Very heavy snow! Trains being canceled! Consult your manager and consider working from home!
Middle has been walking around doing his newscaster voice: we are all going to die! It is liken unto the snows of hell! We shall perish in the snow! He's been epically funny.
In other news, I am suffering from acute Winteritis. My skin is itchy, I'm tired of wearing my puffy coat... aren't you glad you dropped by?
It's all House Hunters and Bang For Your Buck over here. Our cable company has restored our channels and all is (apparently) forgiven. I find it interesting that many of the houses on House Hunters are empty. I cannot imagine leaving our house empty and moving all of our things to another house without selling it first. But, now that I think about it, I'll bet House Hunters is shot the day after a house is sold and the day before the new owners move in. Last night, whilst watching HH, I realized that K and I can afford a palace in Mobile Alabama. I'm not sure what we could do for a living in Alabama, but I'm thinking the residents of Mobile never have to deal with Snowmageddon.
Who else is on HGTV? Heather Armstrong. I don't have to link, do I?
I love these Old El Paso commercials -
the kid is the hero! (He's a cutie too.)
Aren't I so INTERNATIONAL today?
Check out what I was posting about a year ago. I tend to find myself absolutely RIVETING in the archives.
That's the special movie you get to see only once - when you have a brand new computer and turn it on for the first time. It's like a new-car smell that lasts for a couple of minutes.
And that? That is the transfusion of data from my old iBook. I always think it looks very medical when we are switching things from one computer to another or onto a hard-drive.
Here's Middle rocking the hoodie, the fitted cap and the schmancy earphones he bought. I rode the train with him last night and sat across from him. And who was sitting next to me? Elbows McGinty, who frantically searched his shopping bag and backpack for Very Important Items.
And what was Middle listening to, with his incredible headphones?
A New Favorite:
Yes, 100 Million Dollars is our new (ironic) favorite. We like it because just about every possible rap video cliche is included PLUS the somewhat random inclusion of: Navy Seals, old school fan boats, lots of red cars and fireworks. It's the War and Peace of rap videos!
And how could I not like a guy named Birdman?
I
ask
you.
BFJ, she said. Boyfriend jacket...you fool. I know! Honestly, that is a direct translation. I do not know why her hair appears to be a wig when she removes her hat. Voila!
I am home today. Sort of. I am supposed to be taking Youngest for his asthma treatment injections even though we await Snowpocalypse! Yes, hundreds of feet of snow are expected to drop upon my part of the world and the nurse called me several times yesterday to cancel/re-schedule/cancel/schedule again his appointment over the course of the day. Very heavy snow! Trains being canceled! Consult your manager and consider working from home!
Middle has been walking around doing his newscaster voice: we are all going to die! It is liken unto the snows of hell! We shall perish in the snow! He's been epically funny.
In other news, I am suffering from acute Winteritis. My skin is itchy, I'm tired of wearing my puffy coat... aren't you glad you dropped by?
It's all House Hunters and Bang For Your Buck over here. Our cable company has restored our channels and all is (apparently) forgiven. I find it interesting that many of the houses on House Hunters are empty. I cannot imagine leaving our house empty and moving all of our things to another house without selling it first. But, now that I think about it, I'll bet House Hunters is shot the day after a house is sold and the day before the new owners move in. Last night, whilst watching HH, I realized that K and I can afford a palace in Mobile Alabama. I'm not sure what we could do for a living in Alabama, but I'm thinking the residents of Mobile never have to deal with Snowmageddon.
Who else is on HGTV? Heather Armstrong. I don't have to link, do I?
I love these Old El Paso commercials -
the kid is the hero! (He's a cutie too.)
Aren't I so INTERNATIONAL today?
Check out what I was posting about a year ago. I tend to find myself absolutely RIVETING in the archives.
That's the special movie you get to see only once - when you have a brand new computer and turn it on for the first time. It's like a new-car smell that lasts for a couple of minutes.
And that? That is the transfusion of data from my old iBook. I always think it looks very medical when we are switching things from one computer to another or onto a hard-drive.
Here's Middle rocking the hoodie, the fitted cap and the schmancy earphones he bought. I rode the train with him last night and sat across from him. And who was sitting next to me? Elbows McGinty, who frantically searched his shopping bag and backpack for Very Important Items.
And what was Middle listening to, with his incredible headphones?
A New Favorite:
Yes, 100 Million Dollars is our new (ironic) favorite. We like it because just about every possible rap video cliche is included PLUS the somewhat random inclusion of: Navy Seals, old school fan boats, lots of red cars and fireworks. It's the War and Peace of rap videos!
And how could I not like a guy named Birdman?
I
ask
you.
we miss him terribly
You know (or maybe you don't) that one of our very best, very closest friends moved to Paris in September?
He fell madly in love with a French lady and gave up everything: his home, his work, his car, his life - and went.
We met her several times and liked her very very much...but...there is a hole in our lives where he lived. And though he is not dead (thank god), he isn't here. And emailing or talking on the phone is not at all like having him at our table every Saturday night.
We are tremendously happy for him. For them.
How often does it happen that one finds the love of one's life?
But still.
That's why I was so touched by the google ad last night.
He fell madly in love with a French lady and gave up everything: his home, his work, his car, his life - and went.
We met her several times and liked her very very much...but...there is a hole in our lives where he lived. And though he is not dead (thank god), he isn't here. And emailing or talking on the phone is not at all like having him at our table every Saturday night.
We are tremendously happy for him. For them.
How often does it happen that one finds the love of one's life?
But still.
That's why I was so touched by the google ad last night.
a perfect party
I traveled to the farthest reaches of the city limits.
I left the boys to celebrate with co-workers.
I was worried that I'd be the oldest, not hip, out of my element.
I approached warily.
I had a great time!
The setting was unique and fun.
The sound track was old and blue-sy.
Drop the peanut shells on the floor!
I kept hearing: I've heard so much about you.
It was one of those nights when the atmosphere and the music and the whiskey and the pizza and the conversation were perfect.
It didn't matter that I was the oldest. I was there and we had a great time.
I left the boys to celebrate with co-workers.
I was worried that I'd be the oldest, not hip, out of my element.
I approached warily.
I had a great time!
The setting was unique and fun.
The sound track was old and blue-sy.
Drop the peanut shells on the floor!
I kept hearing: I've heard so much about you.
It was one of those nights when the atmosphere and the music and the whiskey and the pizza and the conversation were perfect.
It didn't matter that I was the oldest. I was there and we had a great time.
a new computer
A raise, a small bonus and then, finally, an error in accounting resulting in a sizable sum coming back to me lead me to the New Computer. I had shrugged off the raise (tight! the budget here is tight!) had completely ignored the small bonus (Christmas! it'll pay for *some* of Christmas!) and then came the error. We had been functioning with a rather large percentage of my salary being deducted needlessly (the budget! still kind of tight, but now with just a breath in it!).
My dear G4 could no longer play video, weighed a ton and was, at six years old, probably on the verge of a collapse.
Not that I'm justifying.
Okay.
I am.
Middle took me to the Apple store. He bought it with his student discount. We got a black hard-shell case for it.
I hadn't thought of the features it might have. I had only imagined that my laptop would crash one day and K and I would have to scrape together what we could to purchase a new one. I imagined some of my data would be lost.
But, oh...the keyboard lights...and the screen is so clear...and it thinks quickly...and can play music at an audible level....
Oh my.
But there's no time for romance - K is working this weekend and I have laundry, food shopping, and cleaning to do.
If I have a minute, later, I will try to write about a party I went to last night. On the edge of the city. In the extreme cold. With whiskey and peanuts.
My dear G4 could no longer play video, weighed a ton and was, at six years old, probably on the verge of a collapse.
Not that I'm justifying.
Okay.
I am.
Middle took me to the Apple store. He bought it with his student discount. We got a black hard-shell case for it.
I hadn't thought of the features it might have. I had only imagined that my laptop would crash one day and K and I would have to scrape together what we could to purchase a new one. I imagined some of my data would be lost.
But, oh...the keyboard lights...and the screen is so clear...and it thinks quickly...and can play music at an audible level....
Oh my.
But there's no time for romance - K is working this weekend and I have laundry, food shopping, and cleaning to do.
If I have a minute, later, I will try to write about a party I went to last night. On the edge of the city. In the extreme cold. With whiskey and peanuts.
Show and Tell*
Hello!
It's the long-awaited return of Show and Tell: My Refrigerator.
If you' like to play along, post a photo of your fridge (which is, hopefully, as embarrassing as mine) and let Crazy Mom know.
She'll post links or photos or something (clearly, I am not remembering how this works) and we'll all point and stare and laugh.
Then (I think) someone nominates what they'd like the next Show and Tell to be and we move on to THAT.
So.
Here is my fridge:
Yes. It is like the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Yes, we bow down before it. No, it does not function terribly well and it is covered with fingerprints. That paper taped to the front is the publisher's obit notice for J.D. Salinger, who died last week.
I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.
Youngest has just finished Catcher In The Rye - all three boys read it and brought their own take to it, but it was Middle who was most touched by it. And it was Middle who prompted me to take that paper down from the fridge...he reminded me how very sad the book is.
But I've digressed, haven't I. You want to see INSIDE the fridge, don't you.
Such a mess.
Condiments on the top shelves, with a bottle of Bailey's I bought for Oldest. Gosh, I'm noticing so much DAIRY. And no wine? I must have taken this shot early in the morning!
Ah! There it is! Right next to the organic milk.
Have at it, folks.
I'm on my way over to see everyone else's.
*Oh! Look! The Fridge Fetish group has contacted me!
It's the long-awaited return of Show and Tell: My Refrigerator.
If you' like to play along, post a photo of your fridge (which is, hopefully, as embarrassing as mine) and let Crazy Mom know.
She'll post links or photos or something (clearly, I am not remembering how this works) and we'll all point and stare and laugh.
Then (I think) someone nominates what they'd like the next Show and Tell to be and we move on to THAT.
So.
Here is my fridge:
Yes. It is like the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Yes, we bow down before it. No, it does not function terribly well and it is covered with fingerprints. That paper taped to the front is the publisher's obit notice for J.D. Salinger, who died last week.
I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be.
Youngest has just finished Catcher In The Rye - all three boys read it and brought their own take to it, but it was Middle who was most touched by it. And it was Middle who prompted me to take that paper down from the fridge...he reminded me how very sad the book is.
But I've digressed, haven't I. You want to see INSIDE the fridge, don't you.
Such a mess.
Condiments on the top shelves, with a bottle of Bailey's I bought for Oldest. Gosh, I'm noticing so much DAIRY. And no wine? I must have taken this shot early in the morning!
Ah! There it is! Right next to the organic milk.
Have at it, folks.
I'm on my way over to see everyone else's.
*Oh! Look! The Fridge Fetish group has contacted me!
in which I recount a shopping trip for MFAOA and Uncle
Oh, to have a couple of hours alone at Anthropologie! a gift from someone dear to me...but first, I want to point out that it is counter-productive to compare photos of oneself to photos of headless mannequins from the Anthropologie website.
I went, on Sunday, to my local Anthro with my gift-card, wearing far too many accessories. (Don't bring a scarf and gloves and a cardi to a place where you plan on trying on lots of things!)
Here I am. Fully clothed. In too many clothes. And, YES. UGGS.
My goal: choose some items I would not normally purchase for myself. Forget about the I-need-a-better-brown-turtleneck theory and focus on some unique items. Anthro is, of course, the perfect place for that kind of shopping as everything they sell is unique...
Herewith, the hits...and the misses.
I've seen this terrible skirt in dozens of incarnations
You know it, it's the pencil skirt with the ruffle down the side. Yes, it does appear to be too large on me. No, I'm not telling you what size it was. It was stupid looking. I think I'm not tall enough to have a ruffle down my side.
I was very excited about this shirt-dress.
It is THE thing for Spring, according to the email I got. And, while I liked it well enough (it had some kind of crinoline thing going on underneath the top layer) I don't think it "did anything for me." Again, on someone taller I think it would have been a hit.
See me making that face? That face means the big black sweater dress is nothing to write home about.
Too tight. A return, greatly reduced, it was the only one of its kind.
The hits:
This top I like to call: someone threw-up some fabric on my shoulder! I have too many plain turtlenecks and this little number will add some interest when it's too warm for me to wear one of my three dozen scarves. (I'm exaggerating. I think.)
This marled (?) little wrap sweater, which I wore yesterday and sort of looked like a pregnant crewmember of The Starship Enterprise. Never mind - it's cute! And it has this wonderful label, so I could wear it inside-out!
Finally, this dress, described by a sales associate as A Yarn Dress:
I believe a deserve a medal of some sort for actually posting this photo of ME in this dress rather than, say, this one:
I mean, I look pregnant, washed out, saggy-necked, what am I doing with my hand? I could go on and on. Suffice to say, I bought this Yarn Dress and love it!
I wore it with a brown turtleneck underneath it and brown tights and my engineer boots and got compliments all day. And, the thing is, I would never have given it a second glance if I were spending my own money...it's pure luxury.
I need to experiment more with what I wear under it and also bought a cap sleeved tee for it on the advice of the aforementioned sales associate.
As for the rest of me - here's the hair I aspire to right now. I thought you should know.
My FAOA is working every single day to feel and be well and this post is, mostly, dedicated to her.
I went, on Sunday, to my local Anthro with my gift-card, wearing far too many accessories. (Don't bring a scarf and gloves and a cardi to a place where you plan on trying on lots of things!)
Here I am. Fully clothed. In too many clothes. And, YES. UGGS.
My goal: choose some items I would not normally purchase for myself. Forget about the I-need-a-better-brown-turtleneck theory and focus on some unique items. Anthro is, of course, the perfect place for that kind of shopping as everything they sell is unique...
Herewith, the hits...and the misses.
I've seen this terrible skirt in dozens of incarnations
You know it, it's the pencil skirt with the ruffle down the side. Yes, it does appear to be too large on me. No, I'm not telling you what size it was. It was stupid looking. I think I'm not tall enough to have a ruffle down my side.
I was very excited about this shirt-dress.
It is THE thing for Spring, according to the email I got. And, while I liked it well enough (it had some kind of crinoline thing going on underneath the top layer) I don't think it "did anything for me." Again, on someone taller I think it would have been a hit.
See me making that face? That face means the big black sweater dress is nothing to write home about.
Too tight. A return, greatly reduced, it was the only one of its kind.
The hits:
This top I like to call: someone threw-up some fabric on my shoulder! I have too many plain turtlenecks and this little number will add some interest when it's too warm for me to wear one of my three dozen scarves. (I'm exaggerating. I think.)
This marled (?) little wrap sweater, which I wore yesterday and sort of looked like a pregnant crewmember of The Starship Enterprise. Never mind - it's cute! And it has this wonderful label, so I could wear it inside-out!
Finally, this dress, described by a sales associate as A Yarn Dress:
I believe a deserve a medal of some sort for actually posting this photo of ME in this dress rather than, say, this one:
I mean, I look pregnant, washed out, saggy-necked, what am I doing with my hand? I could go on and on. Suffice to say, I bought this Yarn Dress and love it!
I wore it with a brown turtleneck underneath it and brown tights and my engineer boots and got compliments all day. And, the thing is, I would never have given it a second glance if I were spending my own money...it's pure luxury.
I need to experiment more with what I wear under it and also bought a cap sleeved tee for it on the advice of the aforementioned sales associate.
As for the rest of me - here's the hair I aspire to right now. I thought you should know.
My FAOA is working every single day to feel and be well and this post is, mostly, dedicated to her.
a real post is coming soon, I promise
In the meantime, I want to announce that my friend Crazy Mom and I will be playing Show And Tell on Friday.
The topic is: our refrigerators.
If you'd like to join us, take a photo of the inside of your fridge and post it.
Then tell Crazy Mom about it and she'll link to it. Then, go see everyone's fridge.
I did it in 2004 and I'll do it again this week.
Is the state of my refrigerator any better five years down the road?
Time will TELL. Hopefully, this year's photo won't spark an international controversy (which I can no longer explain as I deleted it from the comments but involved how massively wealthy I am in food and how I'd better be good to those starving...or some such).
The topic is: our refrigerators.
If you'd like to join us, take a photo of the inside of your fridge and post it.
Then tell Crazy Mom about it and she'll link to it. Then, go see everyone's fridge.
I did it in 2004 and I'll do it again this week.
Is the state of my refrigerator any better five years down the road?
Time will TELL. Hopefully, this year's photo won't spark an international controversy (which I can no longer explain as I deleted it from the comments but involved how massively wealthy I am in food and how I'd better be good to those starving...or some such).
watching The Usual Suspects
That's what I call the huge copier/printer just outside my office. Kayser Soze. It's evil. EVIL, I TELL YOU. Just when you think you can make a 40 or 50 or 300 page copy for your boss, this copier will decide to cross you.
Such a good movie.
for my pal JBhat
Here in Tuvalu we like to speculate about JBhat. Is her name JB Hat? Jay Bhat? JBH At? It doesn't matter, she's a dedicated, non-blogging follower and always asks interesting questions.
Today she asked:
Okay, what is up with Oldest and the firefighters? And at least the Rider of Shame wasn't putting on her MAKEUP. Also, please expand more on the blogging at work thing when you can. Thanks!
jbhat
So, I thought, whilst K whips up some pasta with chicken and tomatoes, that I'd answer her. Here! Live!
1. Oldest and the firefighters.
The other night, when our alarm went off, Oldest and the team of firefighters realized they all know each other. They're about the same age, the bunch of them, so Oldest undoubtedly went to school with them. They had a nice little reunion in the living room at twothirtyo'clock, but he wasn't home last night and I speculated that he might have joined them somewhere for a beer. Of course, I am totally "talking out my ass" as I have no idea where he was last evening. And, for the record, Middle said he knew all the firefighters too - proof that at least two of my boys are well connected socially!
2. The Rider of Shame could not have put on her makeup during our trip as she was STANDING. Oh, what a ride that was.
3. I've started a blog (on a closed intranet system) at work! I thought I'd have about five or six people sign up to write with me but ended up with 15! And everyone is very enthusiastic! And J.D. Salinger died and people were lined UP to write a post. But, I have new respect for my BloghHer boss, Susan Wagner, as it is not easy to coordinate all these writers! Props to Susan! Who I am not linking to tonight! Because I AM LAZY AND TIRED.
Here's one JB didn't ask for.
I was looking at my paycheck stub the other night - and I hadn't looked at my paycheck stub for a really long time because I have direct deposit and K handles our money (or else I would have a very bad headache) and I noticed something odd. I don't have health insurance through my job - we took the insurance through K's job as his rates were better - AND YET, a sizable deduction has been taken from my check for a very long time!
I asked HR about it today and it turns out that they owe me lots of money!
Such a thing.
Today she asked:
Okay, what is up with Oldest and the firefighters? And at least the Rider of Shame wasn't putting on her MAKEUP. Also, please expand more on the blogging at work thing when you can. Thanks!
jbhat
So, I thought, whilst K whips up some pasta with chicken and tomatoes, that I'd answer her. Here! Live!
1. Oldest and the firefighters.
The other night, when our alarm went off, Oldest and the team of firefighters realized they all know each other. They're about the same age, the bunch of them, so Oldest undoubtedly went to school with them. They had a nice little reunion in the living room at twothirtyo'clock, but he wasn't home last night and I speculated that he might have joined them somewhere for a beer. Of course, I am totally "talking out my ass" as I have no idea where he was last evening. And, for the record, Middle said he knew all the firefighters too - proof that at least two of my boys are well connected socially!
2. The Rider of Shame could not have put on her makeup during our trip as she was STANDING. Oh, what a ride that was.
3. I've started a blog (on a closed intranet system) at work! I thought I'd have about five or six people sign up to write with me but ended up with 15! And everyone is very enthusiastic! And J.D. Salinger died and people were lined UP to write a post. But, I have new respect for my BloghHer boss, Susan Wagner, as it is not easy to coordinate all these writers! Props to Susan! Who I am not linking to tonight! Because I AM LAZY AND TIRED.
Here's one JB didn't ask for.
I was looking at my paycheck stub the other night - and I hadn't looked at my paycheck stub for a really long time because I have direct deposit and K handles our money (or else I would have a very bad headache) and I noticed something odd. I don't have health insurance through my job - we took the insurance through K's job as his rates were better - AND YET, a sizable deduction has been taken from my check for a very long time!
I asked HR about it today and it turns out that they owe me lots of money!
Such a thing.
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