31 December 2009

30 December 2009

"I'm not pristine, I'm no queen" --Fergie

Hi there. Yeah, I'm back.

It's been a wild and woolly coupla weeks. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say there's been laughter and tears. There's been hospital visits* and glitter cards**.

There's been Cabernet with a head on it, too. I took this shot after a few minutes, when, even though it had subsided considerably, that bubbly froth continued to hang on, unwanted, like a Seth Rogan project.

Sorry, it's a little fuzzy. The wine glass is actually a wine plastic.***

At least I didn't have to skimp on the foodstuffs. Mmmm, Land o Lakes Butter... Wait, what?

Wow, that's pretty blurry, too. Let's try again...

What do you mean, you still can't read it? Have you been drinking Cabernet with a head on it? That says "Fresh Buttery Taste Spread" ...mmmmMMMMmmmm, nummy.

* If you're looking for inspiration to get back in shape, go visit someone in the hospital. Nothing will inspire you to exercise more. Unfortunately, as unfancy as I am--even I won't drop and give you twenty on a hospital floor. I have done push-ups on a hotel room floor. Disgusting? Sure. But probably not deadly. Hmmm, sounds like a good question du jour: Would you exercise on a hotel room floor?

** Can we stop with the glitter encrusted holiday cards? I keep trying to wash this stuff off. It's like it's two days after I've been at a club with a sixteen year old. I've said too much.

*** What does one call a glass made of plastic? Oh, yeah: "tacky."

15 December 2009

"Strange brew" --Cream

Because it is the holiday season and I'm feeling all givey...

Jammin Johns (Music to Your Rear!)

a gift idea for the musically-butted person in your life, I suppose.


Hats of Meat



well, no good reason. I just sometimes find things on the Internet that make me feel so much better about myself.

14 December 2009

"Don't know what a slide rule is for..." --Sam Cooke

I used to think I'd like to go to MIT. Not because I ever actually wanted to work that hard but just to hang around with the brainiacs. The fact that I didn't have the grades, or the test scores, or the extracurricular activities, or the money, or the ability to keep up didn't really faze me. If was a fantasy. I pictured myself socializing with these ubergeeks, catching threads of ideas and getting spun up in their intellectual hoohah.*

I never got to MIT although I've met some amazing people who graduated from there. And, let's face it, most realities don't hold much resemblance to the fantasies we carry, anyway.

On Friday, I got unofficial word that an assignment I'd casually suggested about six months ago may be on the radar for me. If this pans out, this means within a few months I'll be burning through my Metro card, have a higher dry cleaning bill, and be hanging out with some serious brainiacs. For real, these people can think circles around me. Circles, stars, clovers, you name it. Am I jazzed? A little. Am I intimidated? A lot. It ain't MIT but maybe I'll get to break bread with the ubergeeks yet.

Question du jour**: Have you ever found yourself significantly out-brained? If so, was it a good thing or a bad thing?

* See, if I had gone to MIT, I would have had a better term for that.

** This question is dedicated to Bowie Mike and his thirst for questions.

10 December 2009

TMI/"Well, you don't know me" --Ray Charles (or Edwin Starr)

I know you think I'm all that. It's sweet, really. That look you get on your face; all googly-eyed. I can tell you're hot for me. Or constipated.

But you don't really know me.

You've probably figured out that doing the non-meat dealio, I eat tofu and gluten and all manner of weirdness including such loveliness as Tofurkey Jerky. Mmmm.

Still want to snuggle? Let's keep going...

I will contentedly eat mashed potatoes made from potato flakes.

Yup. Still feeling all oo-eey gooey? Okay...

I will eat canned corn. Cold. Right out of the can.

Yeah, I see that twitch.

I will eat canned peas, cold, right out of the can. You know those mushy, canned English peas with the weird tinny, sweet-vomit smell? Thaaaaat's right. Not even the fancy Le Sueur type.

Mm-hm. Now, you're taking your hand off my butt.

I will eat plain sour cream with potato chips. Or without potato chips. By. The. Spoonful.

I see you inching away.

Chinese food? Much better cold.

Shall I go on?

Better yet: What do you eat that is perhaps, shall we say, less than gourmet?*

* Food, people. FOOD.

09 December 2009

"Gonna keep on tryin' till I reach my highest ground" --Stevie Wonder

At the party supply store*, I get the shrink wrap for baskets that you can use a hairdryer on--way cool!--and head to the checkout.

Cashier--mind you he's working at a PARTY supply store--, in a voice that has to come up a few levels to hit catatonic: Hi. How are you?

Me: Fine. How are you?

Steven Wright's less enthusiastic brother: *pause* Existing.

Me, Wonderful. A ray of sunshine. Do they teach you to respond that way in little executives school?: Yeah, well... it beats the alternative.**

Cashier: Well, I guess, but at least there, there's the element of surprise.

Me, What the... ? Abort conversation! Abort! *indicating wrap*: Just this.

Cashier: Where did you find this?

Me, perplexed, *pointing in the general direction*: Over there.

Cashier, in the least amazed voice I've ever heard: That's amazing. We had a customer come in earlier this week asking for this stuff and none us knew if we had any.

Me: *blink* Clearly, you do.

Cashier rings up sale.

Me: I can walk over with you and show you where it's kept...

Cashier: Nah. That's okay.

Yeaaaah. I can just imagine the next conversation.

Customer: Do you have that shrink wrap for doing your own baskets?

Cashier: Yeah.

Customer: Great! Can you show me where it is?

Cashier: No. *pointing at own arm* Does this look like a tumor to you?

* A complete misnomer. Wouldn't it be great if they really did supply the whole party? Heaven. But no. Check it. They don't carry mini hot dogs in blankets or drunken karaoke singers. I know. Right?!

** Can I tell you how much I hate that I said this? I might as well have said "Looks like someone has a case of the Mondays!"

08 December 2009


[Well, I liked it.]

A while back I noticed a bit of mold was setting in inside the dial of the shower knob so I took it apart and cleaned it as a surprise for the Husband who uses that shower. (Me? I'm a tub gal, remember.)

Then ...

Hubby: *turns on shower* *sound of piece of shower knob hitting shower floor* Ever since you cleaned that mold out of the shower knob, every time I turn on the shower, the front of the knob pops off.

Me: Huh. Sorry.

Hubby: That mold was the only thing holding it in place!

07 December 2009

"War... what is it good for..." --Not War but Edwin Starr, apparently

There are things I won't talk about. I won't ask you what size or style underwear you wear.* I won't ask you how much money you make.** I won't ask you about your sex life.***

But, right or wrong, I don't tend to hold to the old adage: "Don't talk about politics or religion." Stupid? Yeah, probably. People definitely have strong values in these areas and it can get touchy. But isn't that what makes life interesting? And, with regard to politics, we locals are in the DC area, the land of all things political. If you're not willing to talk politics, why live here?

I do try to refrain from comments like, "Only an idiot would think that political strategy has merit" because, really, I'm not about egging people on in these areas. But I am interested in trying to understand why people feel differently than I do. Heck, maybe I'll even learn something.


I totally made up that last part. I want my views reinforced. Who doesn't want to be right?

Question du jour: When you find yourself at a party, do you talk about politics?

* Although, I'll look at you sideways and say....
Men: Boxers? Really? Really???

Women: Dental floss? Really? Really???

** Although I have had friends who've volunteered this kind of information. Go figure.

*** Although I'll read about it on your blog.