29 September 2010

Assorted Flotsam

  • Not long ago, we tried a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant near home. It had zero atmosphere, unless you count the Chinese TV channel that was blaring some teen dance contest or the woman shucking peas at one of the 10 simple tables. In the front window they had a poster asking people to vote for this restaurant as the top Chinese restaurant in the country. Seriously. Wonder why they stopped at country. Why not go for "top Chinese restaurant in the universe"? Well, I may not know my mu-shu from Uranus but I found the website and voted for them. I did! Not because I'm an authority on Chinese restaurants in the U.S. but because the meal they provided was surprisingly tasty and... they asked. There was something wonderful about simply asking to be voted #1. Like us? Vote for us! Beautiful. Takes me back to fifth grade elections when all you needed was a few poster-boards and a magic marker to be elected class president. This is how all elections should be run. Okay, maybe I'm being a little simplistic. They can use glitter and glue, too.
  • Things I've tried and thought I wouldn't ever do again: sift, iron, bake bread. Well, I still hold by the first two. I don't sift flour. I don't iron clothes. And I don't care if you think less of me for it. I no longer say that I don't bake bread thanks to the amazing:
combined with the glorious:
People, it's unreal. I make the most gorgeous, delicious, professional-looking, artisinal boules now! And it's a NO KNEAD recipe! Crazy, but true! We will never buy bread again! Bonus: I get to say boule!

Me: Allow me to present Robert.

Sister: Robert?

Me, unveiling bread: Robert Boule!
  • And still more things I thought I'd never do... You know how you drive down the road and see some idiot running in the pouring rain? And you mutter to yourself, smugly, "Idiot!"? Yeah, that was me, running in the rain last week. I was training for a 5K which I completed, by golly! I finished. Without the need of a stretcher. So, you know, that's something.
Never say "never", people.*

Question du jour: Ever do something you thought you'd never, ever do? Share.**

* Unless it's sifting or ironing.

**Especially the naughty bits.***

*** It's just between us. Scouts honor.****

**** I was never a scout. I heard they make you iron.

28 September 2010

"Baby, baby, don't get hooked on me" --Mac Davis

So, hypothetically, of course...

You're amongst people you know. In the room, there are, among others, a young couple and their few-month-old baby. The baby has a good disposition and is generally the star in the room. Lots of 'oo'-ing and 'aa'-ing and you do a bit of "aww, isn't that sweet" yourself. Eventually, the baby gets offered up for holding. People clamor to hold the baby. Eventually, Young Parent turns to you, expectantly, and says "Would you like to hold the baby?"

Thoughts that come to mind:


Not really.

This outfit isn't drool-resistant.

Why? I've been watching it for the last hour. It doesn't do much.

I'm fine without that responsibility, thanks.

and similarly (apparently) inappropriate things. It isn't that you have a problem with the baby, you just have no desire to hold it.

Question #1: Does this make you a mean or cold person?

Question #2: What do you say to Young Parent?

and, finally, Question #3: Is it rude to not hold the baby?

21 September 2010

"I just want your extra time and your..." --Prince

Last weekend, we canceled our plans with friends because Hubs suggested some time in bed would be much preferable. Sexy, no?

Well, not exactly. He came down with a cold.

My mother: Stay away from him!

She's very compassionate that way.

Luckily, Dish was featuring a free preview weekend for HBO. In between bringing him juice and tissues, I took advantage of his weakened state to check out a bunch of chick flicks: (500) Days of Summer, Crush, The Time Traveler's Wife, and Love Happens. And in at least one of these--who can remember which--someone wakes up someone else and kisses them. You see it all the time in movies. "Good morning!" followed by a big ol' smooch. And every time I see this, I think Bleah! Morning breath! In the morning, my mouth tastes like something crawled in there and died.* But it doesn't seem to phase them a bit. Not even squinky faces. Ah, Hollywood.

Which brings us to the question of the day: Kissing before brushing of the teeth--sexy or gross? Or both?

* TMI? You know you still want me.

16 September 2010

"There you are sitting in the garden, clutching my coffee, calling me sugar, you called me sugar" --Pink

A story:

At the end of a week-long singing workshop at Omega, we (about 35 of us) were sitting in a somewhat random clump on the hardwood floor and the workshop leader invited us to share whatever we wanted to share. We went around the clump and comments ranged dramatically.

There were people that simply said "It's been a great week. Thanks!" and others who told very personal stories and burst into tears in the telling. Honestly, I remember none of these people specifically.

The bit of sharing that stays with me through the years--and I can still see this woman's face in my mind--was this: A 20-something woman said that she was embarrassed to say she'd spent the week worrying about her legs. She hated her legs. They were too thin, she said. And it was hot and she wanted to wear shorts but she didn't wear shorts all week because she hated her legs and she didn't want people to see them. Then she unfolded her legs in front of her, pulled up her pants legs, and said, "Here. These are my legs. I can't believe I spent the week worrying about them."

They were perfectly ordinary looking legs.

We obsess. Over things that don't matter to anyone but us. Over things that shouldn't matter to us, even. Meanwhile, the world goes by. People wonder what our problem is and make faulty assumptions because they see our behavior and have no idea that we're acting strangely because we "don't want to show our legs."

It's crazy. And it happens all the time.

"We are not capable of understanding each other and that is the main source of human suffering." -Thick Nhat Hahn

07 September 2010

"I want to be high, so high" --Lionel Richie

I am a live-and-let-live kind of person when it comes to sexual proclivities. If it involves consenting adults, and the penguin enjoys it, I say, fine. However, there is one particular act that I can't wrap my head around. I can accept that other people do it but I just can't figure out why. I speak, of course, of the Mile High Club.

I understand the intense desire to be with someone right now! I get the idea of wanting to whisk that someone off to a private place. And I know you can only peruse the Sky Mall catalog so many times. But, really, is there any place less sexy than an airplane bathroom?

6 Reasons Why I Won't be Joining the Mile High Club:

  1. The line. There are always people waiting to use the bathroom and they're often standing in the aisle. Do you really want to be in there shagging while little Billy is just outside screaming that he HAS TO POO?
  2. The lack of turning radius. The space is hard enough to maneuver in if you are one average-sized person, much less two people trying to do the hokey pokey.
  3. Push handles. The push handles on the sink mean you're likely to have more than one unintended wet spot.
  4. Dinging lights. You know that every time you go into one of those bathrooms, the "return to seat" light flashes and dings because there's turbulence. Clarence may be getting his wings but do you really need these kinds of distractions when you've just, uh, made a tight connection?
  5. The smell. 'Nuff said.
  6. Talk about "sticking the dismount." Do you really want to exit the lavatory to thunderous applause?

Questions du jour: What am I missing here? Is the Mile High Club a sexy thing or not? And, are you a member or would you consider joining?