Vegas Virginity Revoked
I had always thought that if I went to Vegas I would get bored with it quickly. But once I got there -- and while I was suffering from excessive alcohol intake -- there was so much to see around me. I preferred to walk around. I didn't want to sleep.
I've had a tough time conceptualizing my Vegas blog. What can I say that hasn't already been said? I closed clubs, saw strippers, rode in a limo, gambled, was wooed by the bright lights. I didn't see a show or show girls, and only noted one Elvis. Still, even without those, I feel like I had the typical Vegas experience.
But what was fascinating was that people go there with expectations (allow me to generalize). Everyone expects you to leave your former life at the gate of the airport. You are expected to let loose and forget any decent upbringing you might have had. You are expected to engage. If you don't, you should go back to your hotel. And for that matter, you should go home. If you aren't there to get crazy, what are you there for?
I would like to reiterate that these were not my expectations going in.
Maybe that's why I was so taken with Vegas. I've never been to such a place. How does a place like that develop? Who thinks all that stuff up? Who wakes up one day and says "I'm going to rebuild the New York skyline" and not only that, but has the confidence that people will like it? At first, my head was swirling.
But I don't think it's the concept people like, it's the escape. Everyone is well aware it isn't real. And because of that, maybe people start to think that, while they are there, they aren't real either. Without reality, the other beliefs fall away.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
It's Tough Living in Health Food Nation
Let's face it, we still like our junk food.
I am of the camp that believes if you are eating healthy most of the time, exercising, and drinking lots of water, that you can slack off every now and then. I give in to my little cravings, which don't come very often.
Like this afternoon, when I went to the vending machine to get a tasty snack. I wanted potato chips, or something salty, maybe a little greasy. I felt like being naughty. Naughty tastebuds. But standing in front of the vending machine, there was none of that. Dried fruit. Sunflower seeds. Trail mix. Oatmeal. Who puts oatmeal in the vending machine? And the sticker on the glass in the top right hand corner taunted me: Healthy Options Vending, Do What's Right For Your Body. Bah!
There was one empty row in that vending machine. I bet that's where the baked Lays were. Wake up Healthy Options Vending! You lost a sale because you failed to indulge my insatiable lust for junk food this afternoon. Forcing your supply on us will not increase our demand. I left the building and found a place that could give me what I needed.
And tomorrow, on my own terms, I might be ready for the trail mix.
Let's face it, we still like our junk food.
I am of the camp that believes if you are eating healthy most of the time, exercising, and drinking lots of water, that you can slack off every now and then. I give in to my little cravings, which don't come very often.
Like this afternoon, when I went to the vending machine to get a tasty snack. I wanted potato chips, or something salty, maybe a little greasy. I felt like being naughty. Naughty tastebuds. But standing in front of the vending machine, there was none of that. Dried fruit. Sunflower seeds. Trail mix. Oatmeal. Who puts oatmeal in the vending machine? And the sticker on the glass in the top right hand corner taunted me: Healthy Options Vending, Do What's Right For Your Body. Bah!
There was one empty row in that vending machine. I bet that's where the baked Lays were. Wake up Healthy Options Vending! You lost a sale because you failed to indulge my insatiable lust for junk food this afternoon. Forcing your supply on us will not increase our demand. I left the building and found a place that could give me what I needed.
And tomorrow, on my own terms, I might be ready for the trail mix.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Obstacles in the Road
This will begin a series that I've been wanting to do for a while now. Occasionally, on the traffic report, there is the most interesting object obstructing traffic flow. Once it was a family of ducks. Another time was a kitchen sink. We can imagine how these items wound up on the road, but it's another trick to surmise their overall contribution to the flow of life. I've decided to report on these items as I hear about them and relate them to my new favorite subject--Marriage. Perhaps the topic I relate it to will change over time, but I don't see the well running dry on this one.
So, last night, around 11 pm I was listening to Coast to Coast AM. The traffic report came on. A washing machine was blocking traffic on the Bay Bridge.
Clearly, the washing machine relates to domestic duties. And why should I see it as an obstacle? Not only because I have quite a large pile of laundry that I ignored over the weekend, but because there will always be a pile of laundry. And if I am to follow my dream of avoiding the cubicle life-style, I must come to terms with the washing machine. If you are the one at home, you have to do the laundry. It's part of the territory, right? And since this blog comes on the heels of my "treat women equally" blog, I think I should mention that just because we want to be equal doesn't mean we can stop doing the laundry. Then we'd stink like the menfolk.
Actually, what I'm thinking when I envision a washing machine on the road is: Is it still there? I wonder if I could go pick it up. Washing machines are expensive.
This will begin a series that I've been wanting to do for a while now. Occasionally, on the traffic report, there is the most interesting object obstructing traffic flow. Once it was a family of ducks. Another time was a kitchen sink. We can imagine how these items wound up on the road, but it's another trick to surmise their overall contribution to the flow of life. I've decided to report on these items as I hear about them and relate them to my new favorite subject--Marriage. Perhaps the topic I relate it to will change over time, but I don't see the well running dry on this one.So, last night, around 11 pm I was listening to Coast to Coast AM. The traffic report came on. A washing machine was blocking traffic on the Bay Bridge.
Clearly, the washing machine relates to domestic duties. And why should I see it as an obstacle? Not only because I have quite a large pile of laundry that I ignored over the weekend, but because there will always be a pile of laundry. And if I am to follow my dream of avoiding the cubicle life-style, I must come to terms with the washing machine. If you are the one at home, you have to do the laundry. It's part of the territory, right? And since this blog comes on the heels of my "treat women equally" blog, I think I should mention that just because we want to be equal doesn't mean we can stop doing the laundry. Then we'd stink like the menfolk.
Actually, what I'm thinking when I envision a washing machine on the road is: Is it still there? I wonder if I could go pick it up. Washing machines are expensive.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Thoughts on the Awards
I've always wondered why the best actress award is given a few awards before the best actor award. What is the hierarchy here? Is it necessarily possible for a male actor to be better than a female actor. Maybe. I can't comment on the performances this year because I didn't see them all. What I'm driving at is: why don't they switch the order up? One year the men go first, and another year the women go first. That sounds fair. However, I don't know if this is an issue to anyone. So maybe we'll keep it the same. Except that the end of the Oscar's always seem so male dominant. The male best actors, the male directors, and the male producers. Too macho for me. I actually sat this year watching the entourage of The Departed settle into their seats, like the real part of the awards ceremony had begun. And where were the women? Clapping.
Also this past week, the people with the $$ at Wimbledon decided that women will be awarded the same prize money as men from here until forever. I think that's great. The men players? Mixed reaction, mostly thinking it's not fair. It's true that the men play up to five sets, while the women are only stretched to three. But the women are not given the option of playing five sets, and I bet that if they were, we would wonder what the fuss was all about. Remember when women weren't allowed to run marathons? Because they were told they didn't have the stamina, that they might not survive. Hogwash.
And now I might add that my opinions are highly effected by my attendance at a predominantly women's college. But it has been freeing. I highly recommend it to everyone, because women aren't so bad after all.
I've always wondered why the best actress award is given a few awards before the best actor award. What is the hierarchy here? Is it necessarily possible for a male actor to be better than a female actor. Maybe. I can't comment on the performances this year because I didn't see them all. What I'm driving at is: why don't they switch the order up? One year the men go first, and another year the women go first. That sounds fair. However, I don't know if this is an issue to anyone. So maybe we'll keep it the same. Except that the end of the Oscar's always seem so male dominant. The male best actors, the male directors, and the male producers. Too macho for me. I actually sat this year watching the entourage of The Departed settle into their seats, like the real part of the awards ceremony had begun. And where were the women? Clapping.
Also this past week, the people with the $$ at Wimbledon decided that women will be awarded the same prize money as men from here until forever. I think that's great. The men players? Mixed reaction, mostly thinking it's not fair. It's true that the men play up to five sets, while the women are only stretched to three. But the women are not given the option of playing five sets, and I bet that if they were, we would wonder what the fuss was all about. Remember when women weren't allowed to run marathons? Because they were told they didn't have the stamina, that they might not survive. Hogwash.
And now I might add that my opinions are highly effected by my attendance at a predominantly women's college. But it has been freeing. I highly recommend it to everyone, because women aren't so bad after all.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
I Said "Husband," He He
It's been like a dirty word, whenever I go to say it, so instead I gesture and over-emphasize. "You know, my husband." The word is still foreign to me. And it's like people are waiting for me to say it, and point out that it's one of my first times saying it. "Ooooh! Your husband! You said it! Oh, look at you blush, you blushing bride, you!"
Then again, being married for only a week and a half, I haven't had many opportunities to use the word with strangers. Until this morning. I explained that my husband had been into the store the other day. The woman on the other side of the counter wasn't phased. Who knows if it even registered. They have married people come in all the time. But for me, it was a huge hurdle. I'm always being told that I look sixteen, or twenty-two. One of these times I'm going to say something about my husband, and someone is going to stop me and ask "You're married? Are you old enough?"
Yeah, people. I'm old enough. I'm married. Get used to it. I know I have to.
It's been like a dirty word, whenever I go to say it, so instead I gesture and over-emphasize. "You know, my husband." The word is still foreign to me. And it's like people are waiting for me to say it, and point out that it's one of my first times saying it. "Ooooh! Your husband! You said it! Oh, look at you blush, you blushing bride, you!"
Then again, being married for only a week and a half, I haven't had many opportunities to use the word with strangers. Until this morning. I explained that my husband had been into the store the other day. The woman on the other side of the counter wasn't phased. Who knows if it even registered. They have married people come in all the time. But for me, it was a huge hurdle. I'm always being told that I look sixteen, or twenty-two. One of these times I'm going to say something about my husband, and someone is going to stop me and ask "You're married? Are you old enough?"
Yeah, people. I'm old enough. I'm married. Get used to it. I know I have to.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Alien Skin (or, the honeymoon episode)
First, consider the following circumstances:
They all sound nice, right? Except that just hours after the massage, some tiny itchy bumps appeared on my feet. I couldn't sleep because I hadn't experienced such itching since I had the chicken pox in second grade. I thought I was either allergic to the oil, or that we had bedbugs in the bottom corner of my side of the bed. No bedbugs, I checked.
I took several showers, thinking if it was the oil, I could wash it away and I'd be fine. The bumps spread. I had them on the backs of my knees, the backs of my hands, on my forearms, my neck, and my thighs. They weren't red, just itchy. So damn itchy.
Well, I'm back from Aruba now. I still have the bumps. Was it the sun, or the sunscreen? If it was, shouldn't they have gone away by now?
And the thing is, I'm so far behind at work and in school that I don't have time to go see the dermatologist. And I can't take Sudafed because I can't risk losing even more time for homework to the ensuing sleep. What to do?
At least I don't look like a lizard. But if I end up looking like this guy here, I think I will find the time for a remedy.
First, consider the following circumstances:
- Lounging in the sun for at least two hours a day. The Aruban sun, near the equator, which, without the cooling trade winds of the Carribbean, would scorch any skin type to perfect medium-well-steak standards.
- Slathering on a palmful of sunscreen every morning. 45, which should protect even the fairest skin from the Aruban sun oven. And it's waterproof, so that not only will the wearer be able to enjoy the beach and the pool, but the water will bead up and glide off the skin oh-so pleasingly.
- After a few days of this routine, have a full body massage. It begins with a skin brush, which only feels good because the skin has been so carefully protected from sunburn. Then heated oil is gently rubbed all over, releasing any tension which may have resulted from the constant cooling trade winds + sticky sunscreen + long hair issue.
They all sound nice, right? Except that just hours after the massage, some tiny itchy bumps appeared on my feet. I couldn't sleep because I hadn't experienced such itching since I had the chicken pox in second grade. I thought I was either allergic to the oil, or that we had bedbugs in the bottom corner of my side of the bed. No bedbugs, I checked.
I took several showers, thinking if it was the oil, I could wash it away and I'd be fine. The bumps spread. I had them on the backs of my knees, the backs of my hands, on my forearms, my neck, and my thighs. They weren't red, just itchy. So damn itchy.
Well, I'm back from Aruba now. I still have the bumps. Was it the sun, or the sunscreen? If it was, shouldn't they have gone away by now?
And the thing is, I'm so far behind at work and in school that I don't have time to go see the dermatologist. And I can't take Sudafed because I can't risk losing even more time for homework to the ensuing sleep. What to do?
At least I don't look like a lizard. But if I end up looking like this guy here, I think I will find the time for a remedy.
Monday, February 12, 2007
The Blaura Wedding
Weddings go by too fast. Already I'm only recalling pieces in my mind. But to summarize, I think we threw a pretty good party.
I wish I had more pictures, but seeing as I just got back last night (at 1:30 am, and headed off to work this morning), I'll have to post more later on. Thanks to those who have already forwarded their pictures, Snapfish is going to be getting some money from me this month.
Since it's so hard to recap your own wedding (I'm sure the first words out of every bride's mouth are "It was so beautiful" -- well, it was). The setting was amazing, the food was delicious, the ambiance was special. So vague, but it you had been there, I think you would agree.
With the Oscar's coming up, and the Grammy's finished last night, I'm inspired and think the following is the right thing to do. Imagine me on a big stage in full gown glamor, holding an obnoxiously large statuette of linked wedding rings that has been inscribed with "Best Wedding of the Year."
I would like to thank David's family for being so supportive of our dream wedding, and for making the long trip out from New York, Long Island, and Boston. I'm glad we finally got our two families together.
I would like to thank my family for coming together for me. Having both of my parents near me once again meant so much. And my sister and brothers made for the best looking bridal party on record! Not to mention their willingness to put up with my frantic demands for last minute help, they helped iron out (literally and figuratively) some little kinks. Thanks Myra and Paul for making the trek to Colorado and representing the Minnesota crew. Thanks to Carolyn with the final touches.
To the demolition crew--Gavin and Lauren for spearheading the chucking of the decor. I know there were others who helped with tear down, and thank you for making it so effecient. I especially liked the part where I got to leave and didn't have to help!
[the background music is starting up, meaning, the speech has gone too long]
And finally, to my new husband David, without whose love none of this night would have been possible. I love you and can't wait for the next adventure!
Weddings go by too fast. Already I'm only recalling pieces in my mind. But to summarize, I think we threw a pretty good party.
I wish I had more pictures, but seeing as I just got back last night (at 1:30 am, and headed off to work this morning), I'll have to post more later on. Thanks to those who have already forwarded their pictures, Snapfish is going to be getting some money from me this month.Since it's so hard to recap your own wedding (I'm sure the first words out of every bride's mouth are "It was so beautiful" -- well, it was). The setting was amazing, the food was delicious, the ambiance was special. So vague, but it you had been there, I think you would agree.
With the Oscar's coming up, and the Grammy's finished last night, I'm inspired and think the following is the right thing to do. Imagine me on a big stage in full gown glamor, holding an obnoxiously large statuette of linked wedding rings that has been inscribed with "Best Wedding of the Year."
I would like to thank David's family for being so supportive of our dream wedding, and for making the long trip out from New York, Long Island, and Boston. I'm glad we finally got our two families together.
I would like to thank my family for coming together for me. Having both of my parents near me once again meant so much. And my sister and brothers made for the best looking bridal party on record! Not to mention their willingness to put up with my frantic demands for last minute help, they helped iron out (literally and figuratively) some little kinks. Thanks Myra and Paul for making the trek to Colorado and representing the Minnesota crew. Thanks to Carolyn with the final touches.To the decorating crew--Ilze and Mike, thanks for devoting your Saturday to my demands (the place would not have been transformed without you!), and Lance and Lance Jr. (even though there were some funny mistakes with the place cards, you helped me out tremendously!).
To the demolition crew--Gavin and Lauren for spearheading the chucking of the decor. I know there were others who helped with tear down, and thank you for making it so effecient. I especially liked the part where I got to leave and didn't have to help!
And to some VIPs--Robert, for a beautiful job of handling the ceremony; Candace, for your gorgeous handwriting and for creating the impetus to try Argentinian steak (yeah Beef Club); Yuan for photographing the wedding free of charge (can't wait to see how they turned out!); the readers, Erin, Chris, Stu, and Kiki; Mom, Debby, Jannean, and Ilze for working on decorations weeks in advance, and seeing through a crazy lady's vision; Sun, for handing out programs; Justin, for overcoming shyness to take everyone's picture for the guestbook...
[the background music is starting up, meaning, the speech has gone too long]And finally, to my new husband David, without whose love none of this night would have been possible. I love you and can't wait for the next adventure!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
What is the World Coming To?
Something has been bothering me for weeks. It's not constant; just when I see the advertisements drive by on a bus, or interrupt my valuable television viewing time. Each time these cross my path, I can't help but wonder why we need to see every possible version of a storyline. Book, movie, action figure, and don't forget the musical.
I would have never imagined that Edward Scissorhands and Legally Blonde would be candidates for musicals, let alone the winning candidates. Think of all the other movies that would have suited this genre better. I just can't imagine a man wearing scissor gloves night after night while singing about cutting hair and shrubbery. Even worse, I can't imagine that people want to pay to see this. Do they expect the experience to enrich their lives? Really?
And Legally Blonde: The Musical must have sprung from the choreographed scene "Bend and Snap." Bend me over and spank me, I think it's a terrible idea.
I like to think of the musical as the little sister of opera. I love opera, and I take it very seriously. I don't take lil' sis as seriously, but there is a soft place in my heart for it mostly because it encapsulates the word "music." Some very important work has come out of the musical stage, and it's one of those things that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside just because it's so American. Well, not anymore. I don't want to associate with it. I don't see how music from either of these features will ever enter the repertoire of great music. In fact, this whole situation disconcerts me so much that I'm afraid no good music can ever be written again. All the good music has been written; that's the only excuse for this mess.
The hills aren't so alive with the sound of music anymore.
Something has been bothering me for weeks. It's not constant; just when I see the advertisements drive by on a bus, or interrupt my valuable television viewing time. Each time these cross my path, I can't help but wonder why we need to see every possible version of a storyline. Book, movie, action figure, and don't forget the musical.
I would have never imagined that Edward Scissorhands and Legally Blonde would be candidates for musicals, let alone the winning candidates. Think of all the other movies that would have suited this genre better. I just can't imagine a man wearing scissor gloves night after night while singing about cutting hair and shrubbery. Even worse, I can't imagine that people want to pay to see this. Do they expect the experience to enrich their lives? Really?
And Legally Blonde: The Musical must have sprung from the choreographed scene "Bend and Snap." Bend me over and spank me, I think it's a terrible idea.
I like to think of the musical as the little sister of opera. I love opera, and I take it very seriously. I don't take lil' sis as seriously, but there is a soft place in my heart for it mostly because it encapsulates the word "music." Some very important work has come out of the musical stage, and it's one of those things that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside just because it's so American. Well, not anymore. I don't want to associate with it. I don't see how music from either of these features will ever enter the repertoire of great music. In fact, this whole situation disconcerts me so much that I'm afraid no good music can ever be written again. All the good music has been written; that's the only excuse for this mess.
The hills aren't so alive with the sound of music anymore.
Monday, January 22, 2007
It's Not Easy Being Caffeine Free
When I was younger I thought all children grew up to get jobs and drink coffee in the morning. Coffee drinking seemed to be a right of passage into the "real" world. If you didn't drink coffee, you didn't know what was up. And since I was a youngster with a tender tongue and no taste for coffee, I used my taste buds as a guage for how far I had to go.
Well, the coffee never caught on at the party that is my mouth. When I do drink it, I must dowse it with sugar and cream, and can you really call that drinking coffee? I certainly don't, although Starbucks makes a killing off of it.
So, either I have still not grown up, or my whole theory about coffee drinking was a complete childhood misunderstanding. I wish to argue that my instincts were not as far off as you might think. I don't think non-coffee drinkers get the same respect as coffee drinkers do.
The first time I met my fiance's parents, they were so shocked I didn't drink coffee that I was afraid they were going to kick me out. While drinking a glass of orange juice, I read an article taped to their fridge about all the benefits a cup of coffee can give you. Funny, it didn't mention any of the bad. I still wonder if, every time I pass up a cup of coffee in front of them if they question my worth.
And just this morning, I went into the kitchen at work to get some hot water for some tea. The hot water dispenser at the cooler was only spewing out tepid water, and the hot water tap on the old coffee maker has been broken for months. I went to complain that there are no amenities for the non coffee drinkers (the coffee lovers in this office just got a brand new espresso machine, ooh la la)...tea drinkers have to work so much harder to get what they want. I should not have complained, and boy, was I put in my place. There's always the microwave, and some people do not have enough time to listen to every little tea drinker's complaint.
So, if you are a tea drinker, or perhaps you need some hot water for your insta-oatmeal, do what you can for now, and take comfort in the knowledge that one day we will be recognized!
When I was younger I thought all children grew up to get jobs and drink coffee in the morning. Coffee drinking seemed to be a right of passage into the "real" world. If you didn't drink coffee, you didn't know what was up. And since I was a youngster with a tender tongue and no taste for coffee, I used my taste buds as a guage for how far I had to go.
Well, the coffee never caught on at the party that is my mouth. When I do drink it, I must dowse it with sugar and cream, and can you really call that drinking coffee? I certainly don't, although Starbucks makes a killing off of it.
So, either I have still not grown up, or my whole theory about coffee drinking was a complete childhood misunderstanding. I wish to argue that my instincts were not as far off as you might think. I don't think non-coffee drinkers get the same respect as coffee drinkers do.
The first time I met my fiance's parents, they were so shocked I didn't drink coffee that I was afraid they were going to kick me out. While drinking a glass of orange juice, I read an article taped to their fridge about all the benefits a cup of coffee can give you. Funny, it didn't mention any of the bad. I still wonder if, every time I pass up a cup of coffee in front of them if they question my worth.
And just this morning, I went into the kitchen at work to get some hot water for some tea. The hot water dispenser at the cooler was only spewing out tepid water, and the hot water tap on the old coffee maker has been broken for months. I went to complain that there are no amenities for the non coffee drinkers (the coffee lovers in this office just got a brand new espresso machine, ooh la la)...tea drinkers have to work so much harder to get what they want. I should not have complained, and boy, was I put in my place. There's always the microwave, and some people do not have enough time to listen to every little tea drinker's complaint.
So, if you are a tea drinker, or perhaps you need some hot water for your insta-oatmeal, do what you can for now, and take comfort in the knowledge that one day we will be recognized!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Thanks for Sharing
It has been suggested that I blog about both boogers and Oscar. So now I will relate how this morning I wiped an eye booger from Oscar's eye.
He was sitting on the couch. I sat next to him. His black fur gleamed in the early morning light, and he opened his mouth in a wide yawn as if to take in as much of it as he could. Suddenly he thought he heard something behind me, and he stretched his head up to see over my shoulder. It was then that I saw it; a dull blob in the corner of his eye, a blackish Oscar eye booger.
He continued to be interested in some noise behind my back, as I reached up with my thumb to his eye. He jerked his head back, too concentrated on the scene behind me to allow his owner to perform doggie hygiene on him. But I just dug in, but not too hard. It doesn't take much to get an eye booger to stick to your finger. By now, Oscar knew what I was doing and he took interest. He likes to make sure I got it all out by sniffing my fingers and licking them. That's right--Oscar eats his eye boogers.
And what was behing my back that kept him so captivated while I did my best to release him from eye booger hell? David. That's all...I mean, David!, the very interesting man on the other side of the room who had 10 minutes earlier given Oscar a brand new squeaky toy. We love David. Maybe he has more toys up his sleeve.
It has been suggested that I blog about both boogers and Oscar. So now I will relate how this morning I wiped an eye booger from Oscar's eye.
He was sitting on the couch. I sat next to him. His black fur gleamed in the early morning light, and he opened his mouth in a wide yawn as if to take in as much of it as he could. Suddenly he thought he heard something behind me, and he stretched his head up to see over my shoulder. It was then that I saw it; a dull blob in the corner of his eye, a blackish Oscar eye booger.
He continued to be interested in some noise behind my back, as I reached up with my thumb to his eye. He jerked his head back, too concentrated on the scene behind me to allow his owner to perform doggie hygiene on him. But I just dug in, but not too hard. It doesn't take much to get an eye booger to stick to your finger. By now, Oscar knew what I was doing and he took interest. He likes to make sure I got it all out by sniffing my fingers and licking them. That's right--Oscar eats his eye boogers.
And what was behing my back that kept him so captivated while I did my best to release him from eye booger hell? David. That's all...I mean, David!, the very interesting man on the other side of the room who had 10 minutes earlier given Oscar a brand new squeaky toy. We love David. Maybe he has more toys up his sleeve.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Getting Bored
I'm so tired of coming to this blog and reading about my wedding. Other people must be getting sick of it too. So, unless something really major comes up (or if people genuinely seem interested in every little wedding detail), no more mention of the day I completely relinquish my single status.
What else is going on with me, though? School starts again next week and I'm eagerly looking forward to tax season. I should get lots of tax dollars back, thanks to my student status.
Sheesh, I am boring. This is why I've been avoiding this blogging place. I want you all to believe that if I had any interesting bit of knowledge, an epiphany of some sort, or just a plain ol' good story, that this is the first place I would put it. I've hit a dry spell. My apologies. I will return as soon as I can.
I'm so tired of coming to this blog and reading about my wedding. Other people must be getting sick of it too. So, unless something really major comes up (or if people genuinely seem interested in every little wedding detail), no more mention of the day I completely relinquish my single status.
What else is going on with me, though? School starts again next week and I'm eagerly looking forward to tax season. I should get lots of tax dollars back, thanks to my student status.
Sheesh, I am boring. This is why I've been avoiding this blogging place. I want you all to believe that if I had any interesting bit of knowledge, an epiphany of some sort, or just a plain ol' good story, that this is the first place I would put it. I've hit a dry spell. My apologies. I will return as soon as I can.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Backup Plan
In case of another freak snow storm the weekend of the wedding, it might be good to have a backup plan. I don't think most people will be willing to trek back out to Colorado for a postponement date, so maybe on the second try elopement will be best.
And since I can't imagine getting married in some stuffy judge's office, why not head to Vegas? They have lots of themed weddings to keep the event fun. Some of my favorite options are getting married at Paris, Las Vegas, 50 stories up in the air in a reconstructed Eiffel Tower; on a Venetian gondola on Lake Las Vegas, complete (I imagine) with a singing gondolier; in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon; or on a pirate ship. Doesn't that sound fun? I almost wish I had gone this route to begin with. Oh well, too late, unless the snow does come.
In case of another freak snow storm the weekend of the wedding, it might be good to have a backup plan. I don't think most people will be willing to trek back out to Colorado for a postponement date, so maybe on the second try elopement will be best.
And since I can't imagine getting married in some stuffy judge's office, why not head to Vegas? They have lots of themed weddings to keep the event fun. Some of my favorite options are getting married at Paris, Las Vegas, 50 stories up in the air in a reconstructed Eiffel Tower; on a Venetian gondola on Lake Las Vegas, complete (I imagine) with a singing gondolier; in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon; or on a pirate ship. Doesn't that sound fun? I almost wish I had gone this route to begin with. Oh well, too late, unless the snow does come.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Have a Happy
Where to start?
Happy New Year: I haven't yet had the pleasure of writing 2006 and catching my mistake. This was much more common in the era of check writing. I might never catch on to 2007...
Happy Snow Storms: I love the snow, as I have written in this very blog. But this year (or was it last year?), the snow is testing my patience. I missed Christmas because of the mess in Denver. And once I got to Denver, more snow came, nearly ruining my chance to get my act together for the wedding. There is only so much you can do when all the stores are closed. But alas, the snow finally began to melt, and I spent a lovely afternoon at Hobby Lobby, buying wedding decoration supplies, and later, getting high off of paint fumes with my mom. Good times.
Happy One Month to Go: Until the wedding. I keep on wondering if I fit the part. Should I be freaking out about having so much to do? I actually feel calm. Things are magically falling into place. Which makes me wonder...when will it start to go wrong? I'm getting more worried about the weather, especially after the dowsing Denver got over Christmas. But then again, maybe that's all the snow they'll get. Maybe it will all be fine. Maybe maybe maybe it'll be the best combination of weather/planning/luck ever.
Happy Back to Work: Huh? I take it back. So sorry the holidays are over.
Where to start?
Happy New Year: I haven't yet had the pleasure of writing 2006 and catching my mistake. This was much more common in the era of check writing. I might never catch on to 2007...
Happy Snow Storms: I love the snow, as I have written in this very blog. But this year (or was it last year?), the snow is testing my patience. I missed Christmas because of the mess in Denver. And once I got to Denver, more snow came, nearly ruining my chance to get my act together for the wedding. There is only so much you can do when all the stores are closed. But alas, the snow finally began to melt, and I spent a lovely afternoon at Hobby Lobby, buying wedding decoration supplies, and later, getting high off of paint fumes with my mom. Good times.
Happy One Month to Go: Until the wedding. I keep on wondering if I fit the part. Should I be freaking out about having so much to do? I actually feel calm. Things are magically falling into place. Which makes me wonder...when will it start to go wrong? I'm getting more worried about the weather, especially after the dowsing Denver got over Christmas. But then again, maybe that's all the snow they'll get. Maybe it will all be fine. Maybe maybe maybe it'll be the best combination of weather/planning/luck ever.
Happy Back to Work: Huh? I take it back. So sorry the holidays are over.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Can I Hitch a Ride?
I was planning on going home tomorrow, flying standby, to Colorado. Now, thanks to the snow (which I had been raving about, way to repay the favor, Mr. Snow Maker), I can't go home until after Christmas. Do you realize what this has done to my Christmas spirit? Completely ruined it. I'm crushed. No--melted, into the little raindrops I so despise.
The only way I see out of this is to hitch a ride with Santa on his sleigh on Christmas Eve. Then I would be home in time for brunch with Grandma. But since my Christmas spirit is gone--there is no Santa to hitch a ride with, because he's not real (if you are five and you're reading this, sorry I ruined it, but you are five and reading, so you should probably be curing cancer or something).
My mom told me to make cookies. Yeah, like cookies can give me hugs and presents. It's not the same. Bah Humbug!
I was planning on going home tomorrow, flying standby, to Colorado. Now, thanks to the snow (which I had been raving about, way to repay the favor, Mr. Snow Maker), I can't go home until after Christmas. Do you realize what this has done to my Christmas spirit? Completely ruined it. I'm crushed. No--melted, into the little raindrops I so despise.
The only way I see out of this is to hitch a ride with Santa on his sleigh on Christmas Eve. Then I would be home in time for brunch with Grandma. But since my Christmas spirit is gone--there is no Santa to hitch a ride with, because he's not real (if you are five and you're reading this, sorry I ruined it, but you are five and reading, so you should probably be curing cancer or something).
My mom told me to make cookies. Yeah, like cookies can give me hugs and presents. It's not the same. Bah Humbug!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Encouraged
I took my car into the shop this morning, and while waiting for the shuttle to take me to work, I met a therapist who asked me what the heck I was doing out here in ol' CA. And so we got on the topic of my novel. He asked what it was about. I gave him a summary, and he was really interested. He liked the idea, and his imagination started twirling. He even remembered an old movie he liked as a child called Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid, which I will add to my NetFlicks queue shortly.
The most encouraging part was his genuine interest. He even offered to give me his wife's card, who works in publishing. I shyly declined. I'm not ready for that, I told him. I wonder when I will be? Maybe sooner if I keep getting positive feedback like this.
I took my car into the shop this morning, and while waiting for the shuttle to take me to work, I met a therapist who asked me what the heck I was doing out here in ol' CA. And so we got on the topic of my novel. He asked what it was about. I gave him a summary, and he was really interested. He liked the idea, and his imagination started twirling. He even remembered an old movie he liked as a child called Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid, which I will add to my NetFlicks queue shortly.
The most encouraging part was his genuine interest. He even offered to give me his wife's card, who works in publishing. I shyly declined. I'm not ready for that, I told him. I wonder when I will be? Maybe sooner if I keep getting positive feedback like this.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
BBBBRRRRRrrrrrrrrr
It's cold outside--for the Bay Area anyway. There was a frost advisory until 10 am this morning. I walked Oscar in the cold, but bundled up against the cold and kept up a quick pace to jump start my inner furnace.
I was prepared for the cold outside (except for the frost on my window, don't know where we put the ice scrapers--never thought we'd need them here!), but I wasn't prepared for the cold inside. Yesterday, I came into work and my desk area was just as cold as the parking garage had been. Today, the coworker across from me said the air conditioning was on when he came in.
I expect to be warm inside when it's cold outside. But right now my fingers are so cold they are moving notably slower. I have to stop periodically and sit on them, or warm them in my armpits. I've been wearing a scarf for two days. In the year and a half since I've been out here, this is the first time I've felt the need to wear a scarf. AND I'M INDOORS!!!
Please, send me a space heater for Christmas.
It's cold outside--for the Bay Area anyway. There was a frost advisory until 10 am this morning. I walked Oscar in the cold, but bundled up against the cold and kept up a quick pace to jump start my inner furnace.
I was prepared for the cold outside (except for the frost on my window, don't know where we put the ice scrapers--never thought we'd need them here!), but I wasn't prepared for the cold inside. Yesterday, I came into work and my desk area was just as cold as the parking garage had been. Today, the coworker across from me said the air conditioning was on when he came in.
I expect to be warm inside when it's cold outside. But right now my fingers are so cold they are moving notably slower. I have to stop periodically and sit on them, or warm them in my armpits. I've been wearing a scarf for two days. In the year and a half since I've been out here, this is the first time I've felt the need to wear a scarf. AND I'M INDOORS!!!
Please, send me a space heater for Christmas.
Monday, December 18, 2006
I Had a Lovely Time
This weekend was a perfect combination of productive and lazy. It started off with an introduction to another sure favorite: the Very Dirty Martini. Thanks Brooke, for calling this drink to my attention. I've always liked pickly things, and now I have a drink in which I can embrace this.
The next day, all hungover and filled with my favorite hangover cure (tomato juice, tasty!), I embarked on the many errands that have been awaiting my attention. I found wedding shoes, and undergarments. I went to IKEA and stocked up on candles for wedding decorations, and even did some Christmas shopping for my nephews. Everywhere I went seemed to be the place to be if you wanted to avoid Christmas shoppers. My day flew by with ease, until I headed back to the city and did battle with traffic. I searched for wedding jewelry with my friend Tony, discovering that my dream look would cost me as much as the budget for the entire wedding. I'll be looking for cheap knockoffs online.
As the sun set, and I was bumper to bumper with fellow Bay Areanites (?), my Christmas miracle happened. I looked to the sky and saw flurries. I approached what I saw scientifically, not quite believing what I was seeing. Were the flurries bugs, or ash? Then one fell on my window and melted. SNOW! I was so happy! Just days after remarking the length of time since I had seen snow fall, a few showered my car. Whooo Hooo! Of course, not enough fell to even stick to the road, but I was happy all the same.
It was a wonderful day.
This weekend was a perfect combination of productive and lazy. It started off with an introduction to another sure favorite: the Very Dirty Martini. Thanks Brooke, for calling this drink to my attention. I've always liked pickly things, and now I have a drink in which I can embrace this.The next day, all hungover and filled with my favorite hangover cure (tomato juice, tasty!), I embarked on the many errands that have been awaiting my attention. I found wedding shoes, and undergarments. I went to IKEA and stocked up on candles for wedding decorations, and even did some Christmas shopping for my nephews. Everywhere I went seemed to be the place to be if you wanted to avoid Christmas shoppers. My day flew by with ease, until I headed back to the city and did battle with traffic. I searched for wedding jewelry with my friend Tony, discovering that my dream look would cost me as much as the budget for the entire wedding. I'll be looking for cheap knockoffs online.
As the sun set, and I was bumper to bumper with fellow Bay Areanites (?), my Christmas miracle happened. I looked to the sky and saw flurries. I approached what I saw scientifically, not quite believing what I was seeing. Were the flurries bugs, or ash? Then one fell on my window and melted. SNOW! I was so happy! Just days after remarking the length of time since I had seen snow fall, a few showered my car. Whooo Hooo! Of course, not enough fell to even stick to the road, but I was happy all the same.
It was a wonderful day.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
In a Rut
I feel like all I have been blogging about is the wedding and Christmas and drinking. It's really wearing on me, to the point that I'm starting to believe all the hype. I have an alcoholic Christmas wedding problem, or is it that I'm a Christmas alcoholic bride? In any case, the doctors say it's not serious, and that come February 4th, all the symptoms will go away. Strange, though, that the Christmas part will stick that long. Maybe I can get some ointment to clear that up by the end of the month.
Great, now I'm all self-conscious about what I'm writing. I'm not going to get it right. I gotta go ______(Sing Frosty the Snowman/do a seating arrangment/spike the eggnog).
I feel like all I have been blogging about is the wedding and Christmas and drinking. It's really wearing on me, to the point that I'm starting to believe all the hype. I have an alcoholic Christmas wedding problem, or is it that I'm a Christmas alcoholic bride? In any case, the doctors say it's not serious, and that come February 4th, all the symptoms will go away. Strange, though, that the Christmas part will stick that long. Maybe I can get some ointment to clear that up by the end of the month.
Great, now I'm all self-conscious about what I'm writing. I'm not going to get it right. I gotta go ______(Sing Frosty the Snowman/do a seating arrangment/spike the eggnog).
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