Hairy situation

Riddle me this:

How come it's socially acceptable for men to look like gorillas but women are not allowed to have hair south of their eyebrows? And even our brows have to be immaculately coiffed.

I'm more than a little unnerved that women are now expected to look like prepubescent girls.

WTF is going on, people?


(I won't mention this again; I just think it's weird.)

Another installment of weird dream theater

{Note: when I told Beau about this dream, he summed up his feelings with the following sentiment: It's just a dream; it doesn't mean anything. Well, duh. So here it is, even though it doesn't mean anything.}

Beau and I went to a psychic, who told him that he and two other guys would die on motorcycles within a week. We were crushed. Beau started getting his ducks in a row and making arrangements.

Then I had an idea: How about just staying off the motorcycle for a week to see what happens?

What's this? Free will?

By golly, it worked! But, unfortunately, the two other dudes died.

So we had a horseshoe party/funeral for them in someone's backyard (of course!). People milled around, drank beer, and mourned. There were two big holes at the back of the yard with two (occupied) open coffins (they were old-timey, wild-west coffins that you had to nail together).

I went inside for a moment and looked out the window just in time to see a huge passenger jet crash down the street. I tried to get outside in time to warn everybody, but I was too late; a huge debris cloud enveloped everything in the backyard.

After the dust settled, I looked to the graves just in time to see one of the dead motorcycle dudes crawl out of the coffin and stroll away.

Those damn zombies always have to make an appearance somewhere. :)

I heard this during my morning commute

And it immediately picked up my mood and set the tone for the day.

What a beautiful legacy. George Harrison has been gone for nine years (!) and he still has the power to touch people and make them smile.

We miss ya, George!

If you can still suck in your stomach

to where you'd like it to be, you're not that far gone, right? :)

How to please your man*

(*If your man likes pickles. Women like them too, but I'm using the Cosmo theory of pulling folks in with unnecessarily sexy headlines.)

Make these. They're easy, tasty, and fast. Beau and my dad and the fellas in the office who've tried them give 'em two thumbs up.

Nearly Hands-Free Dill Pickles
(courtesy of RealSimple.com)

[my tweaks appear in pink]

Makes 16 spears| Hands-On Time: 05m |

Ingredients

• 4 Kirby cucumbers (about 1 pound), quartered lengthwise [I used the cucumbers I had]
• 3/4 cup white wine vinegar [Plain old white vinegar works well; it's not as acidic]
• 1/4 small sweet onion (such as Vidalia or Walla Walla), thinly sliced
• 2 cloves garlic, smashed [I used a bit more, but I like garlic]
• 2 tablespoons sugar [That's a helluva lot of sugar; I used one tablespoon]
• 1 teaspoon dill seed
• 1 teaspoon black peppercorns
• 1 bay leaf
• kosher salt
• [If you like a kick, give it a couple of shots of red pepper flakes]

Directions

1. Place the cucumbers in a 1-quart jar or some other container with a tight-fitting lid.
2. In a bowl, combine the vinegar, onion, garlic, sugar, dill seed, peppercorns, bay leaf, 2 teaspoons salt, and ¾ cup hot tap water. Stir until the sugar dissolves.
3. Pour the vinegar mixture into the jar with the cucumbers, cover, and refrigerate for at least 1 day before serving. The pickles will last up to 1 week.

Jake Ryan

Those two words evoke a dreamy sigh from almost every woman I know.

He was THE iconic 80s boyfriend against whom we measured all others (and they failed, miserably, every time).

He was handsome, wealthy, popular, sensitive, and he wasn't just in it for the sex. He wanted a relationship. Swoon. The only bad thing about him was his taste in girlfriends (I'm talking about Carolyn, who could name 20 guys who would kill to love her).

We loved him because back then, we were all Samantha. Nice girls who did well enough in school and were kinda cute, but we weren't perfect. We were flat-chested or we didn't like our thighs (or both). We felt unnoticeable. Sometimes we were grouchy and we were a bit self-involved. We were flawed (everyone is, but at that age, you don't realize it), and Jake loved us anyway. He even baked a birthday cake!


Now we realize that not even Jake Ryan was as perfect as he seemed. He was flawed too (after all, he slammed the door on his girlfriend's hair, sent her home with Farmer Ted, lent his dad's Rolls to an unlicensed driver, etc.).

But we needed Jake. We needed to believe that our own Jake Ryans were out there somewhere, just waiting for us. Ready to love us for who we are, despite our many flaws.  

And they are out there, in their varied forms. 

Beau has a cool red car and beautiful black hair... but I'd never trust him to bake a cake. :)

(You know I had to attach John Hughes' most swoon-worthy contribution to the cultural lexicon. Enjoy.)

*Sigh*

Haiku of the day

I lost an old friend
And I gained some perspective
She wasn't that nice

And her little dog, too!

Dorothy started something ugly when she put Toto in that picnic basket all those years ago.

I'm so tired of seeing women with little dogs in purses everywhere I go.

Walk into any store (particularly a clothing store) and you'll see at least one woman walking around with a chihuahua or minpin or some kind of 'poo as she browses through sweaters, slacks (yes, I said slacks), and purses.

These dogs' delicate paws rarely touch the ground; their "mommies" carry them everywhere. How happy can these furry little baby stand-ins be?

What are these women missing in their lives that makes them want to carry things that can (and likely do) poo in their purses?

And what happened to the no-animal policy that nearly all stores used to have??? It's not like these furballs are service animals.

It's creepy. It's right up there with women who carry on long phone conversations in public restrooms.

Tips on how to stop... you know... Doing That

My friend Bob sent this to me for laughs. It's real, which makes it that much funnier. My comments will follow (of course).

STEPS IN OVERCOMING MASTURBATION
From The Mormon Council of the 12 Apostles

Be assured that you can be cured of your difficulty. Many have been, both male and female, and you can be also if you determine that it must be so.

A Guide to Self-Control

1. Never touch the intimate parts of your body except during normal toilet processes.
2. Avoid being alone as much as possible. Find good company and stay in this good company.
3. If you are associated with other persons having this same problem, YOU MUST BREAK OFF THE FRIENDSHIP. Never associate with other people having the same weakness. Don't suppose that two of you will quit together, you never will. You must get away from people of that kind. Just to be in their presence will keep your problem foremost in your mind. The problem must be taken OUT OF YOUR MIND for that is where it really exists. Your mind must be on other and more wholesome things.
4. When you bathe, do not admire yourself in a mirror. Never stay in the bath more than five or six minutes -- just long enough to bathe and dry and dress AND THEN GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM and into a room where you will have a member of your family present.
5. When in bed, if that is where you have your problem for the most part, dress yourself for the night so securely that you cannot easily touch your vital parts and so that it would be difficult and time consuming for you to remove those clothes. By the time you started to remove protective clothing you would have sufficiently controlled your thinking that the temptation would leave you.
6. If the temptation seems overpowering while you are in bed, GET OUT OF BED AND GO INTO THE KITCHEN AND FIX YOURSELF A SNACK, even if it is in the middle of the night, and even if you are not hungry, and despite your fears of gaining weight. The purpose behind this suggestion is that you GET YOUR MIND ON SOMETHING ELSE.
7. Never read pornographic material. Never read about your problem. Keep it out of mind. Remember -- "First a thought, then an act."
8. Put wholesome thoughts into your mind at all times. Read good books -- Church books.
9. Pray. But when you pray, don't pray about this problem, for that will tend to keep it in your mind more than ever. KEEP THE PROBLEM OUT OF YOUR MIND BY NOT MENTIONING IT EVER -- NOT IN CONVERSATION WITH OTHERS, NOT IN YOUR PRAYERS. KEEP IT OUT of your mind!

My Thoughts:

• Regarding step 1: what's a normal toilet process? 
• You're not supposed to be alone, but you can't be friends with anybody who Does That. However, contrary to what you might hear, EVERYBODY Does That. It's a total Catch-22. 
• You can't be in the bathroom. You can't be in the bedroom. You will dwell in the kitchen and the family room for the rest of your life (but only if other family members are there also). 
• Re: dressing in restrictive clothing when going to bed as a preventive measure. Restrictive clothing causes friction, which, in turn, causes... you know.
• If strait-jacket pajamas don't do the trick, you have to get out of the bedroom ASAP and make a snack. EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT HUNGRY. Hmmmmm. I think we've gotten to the heart of the obesity problem here in the U.S. (particularly in the Bible Belt).
• Pray for help, but don't ever pray for help about not Doing That. The church is here to help. 
• Here are nine steps to help you stop Doing That, but don't think about It. Don't mention It. EVER. Even though the nine steps above kind of make you think about It.

STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!!!

To the mystery woman in the ladies' room

I heard you flush.
I heard you dress.
I heard you purposefully walk out of the stall (your shoes made a distinct clomping noise).
I heard you stop at the mirror to check your hair.
I heard you open the door and leave.

I DID NOT HEAR YOU WASH YOUR HANDS!

(I'll be listening for that clomping sound all day to suss you out.)

EVEN IF...

You're the same height with similar builds.

It's still mortifying when your boyfriend tries on your jeans for fun... and. they. fit. 

Even if they were your "relaxed" pair.

Still sucks.

23 things that are fun to say

1. Chapultepec
2. Tajikistan 
3. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad*
4. Quotidian
5. Tika Masala
6. Du Fluurgen Buurgen**
7. Baton Rouge
8. Fernando
9. Mellifluous
10. Plume
11. Marmalade
12. Beauregard
13. Sashimi
14. Splenectomy
15. Rohypnol
16. Interlocutor 
17. Superfluous 
18. Perpendicular
19. Perforation
20. Turpitude
21. Pawhuska
22. Imprecision 
23. Intrauterine

*Not all words that are fun to say are actually good things.
**Not all fun words to say are actually words.

Not hot

Beau had a barbecue over the weekend. There were different people from lots of different backgrounds there, which made it fun.

As we watched a bizarre game involving two PVC pipes, two Corona beer bottles, two drunken teams, an insane number of rules, and a frisbee, I chatted with Steve, one of Beau's old friends. Pretty soon, one of the buxom girls at the party approached him with a sharpie-scrawled napkin and said Here's my information. Let me know when you have more details about the shoot.

When she walked away, I looked at him and he said Oh, that's for a photo shoot we're doing with motorcycles. We need some hot girls for it. I saw her and thought she was perfect. I also asked Chris' girlfriend (he pointed her out) because she's hot too.

I nodded and we resumed watching the game. And then it hit me. HEY, WAIT A MINUTE!

That wasn't even subtle.

When it comes to seminude motorcycle-photo-shoot standards... I. Am. Not. Hot.

Coming just six days after the birthday that landed me a year closer to 40, that was a bit rough. 

I let it roll off my back. Kind of. Beau heard about it plenty. I joked about it. And though I have nice, cute girl-next-door qualities, I realize I'm not the kind of girl you'd picture bending over a motorcycle--not even when I was 18. But still.

It was one of those milestone blows. I think I've hit that period of life where I look good... for my age.

Sigh. :)

Our ancestors would shake their heads in wonder

At the notion that we buy our clothing pre-distressed.

They built the railroads. They fought WWI and WWII. They did it all by the sweat of their own brows.

And now we are a nation that is too lazy to distress its own garments. :)

Dad's review of the Gillette Fusion ProGlide Power Razor

If you're not up on your razor technology, this is Gillette's brand-new five-blade, battery-powered, vibrating razor.

They were handing them out at work this week, so I snagged one for Dad.

He used it this morning and called me at work with the following review:

It's like running a vacuum cleaner over your face, but in a good way.

Today is my anniversary

Not with Beau.

With my job.

Nine years ago today I joined The Firm. Which is kind of funny, because I thought this would just be a temporary pit stop on the road to editorial greatness. But then I realized that I like it here. I like the people (I've met great friends here; hell, I met Beau here). I like the atmosphere. I'm good at my job.

Nine years. That's longer than any relationship (friendship notwithstanding) I've had. Longer than I spent in college. Longer than I've lived in any one house.

It's a long time in my book.

There's no real fanfare for nine years here. At ten years, you get a plaque (I almost typed plague--yikes!), fanfare, your photo taken, and two extra weeks off. For nine, you get thumbs up and a keep up the good work vibe, which is fine. I'm really happy to be employed in times like these.

Nine years. Wow.

Today is ALSO my oldest friend's birthday. (We're the same age; she's not the oldest friend, she's the friend I've had for the longest amount of time--since third grade.)

So if you're reading this, Q:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOUR GUTS! HUGS AND KISSES! YOU'RE THE BEST!

Age is relative

My birthday was earlier this week, and with it came the inevitable step closer to 40. I'm ok with it (though I did wear a Cookie Monster T-shirt today... overcompensate much?).

But most of the time, I feel about 20, and Beau acts like a 17-year-old on a sugar high much of the time. Age is just a number, and it's much, much better than the alternative.

But it reminds me of a story.

At the ripe old age of 26, I attended my roommate's birthday party. The theme was Wig and Skate. It's very complicated, so allow me to explain: we wore wigs and went rollerskating.

We were a massive (albeit tipsy) hit at the roller rink, and little kids swarmed around us as we skated.

One little girl asked if I would skate with her. As we rolled around the rink to a Britney Spears tune, she turned to me and said How old are you?

I smiled, confident in my 26-year-old hotness, and replied How old do you think I am?

She looked at me and concentrated and said I don't know. About 75?

So much for 26-year-old hotness. :)

At DSW over the weekend...

I mentioned to my mother that many of this season's boots have an... uncircumcised quality to them.

She immediately rolled her eyes and laughed at me.

And then she told me I was right.

Don't believe me? Look for yourself!

DSW.com

35 things that just don't do it for me

1. People who let silverware hit their teeth when they eat
2. When something is lodged in my teeth and nobody tells me
3. Those Martina McBride SunnyD commercials
4. When anchors editorialize on CNN
5. Folks who try to hijack the prepositions around and against (with dumbass results)
6. Folks who can't be happy about others' good fortune
7. Bad hold music
8. TV static
9. The use of the apostrophe to denote pluralization (when you ONLY use it to denote ownership or a contraction)
10. Passive voice
11. Passive aggression
12. Folks who let the door slam behind them instead of waiting one extra second and holding it for the person following them
13. Anyone who says excuse you, when they feel they've been slighted in some way (see 11)
14. Papercuts
15. Fish in the microwave
16. When someone changes lanes and leaves their blinker on
17. The question Can I ask you a question?
18. When anyone tells me You look like you need something to do
19. The way that high school boys get to look like boys but high school girls feel pressured to (or *shudder* actually want to) look hookered out
20. Men who go shirtless in public
21. Folks who always Reply All
22. Funnel cakes
23. Gristle
24. People who tell me what to do
25. When anybody hangs up on me
26. Strapless bras
27. People who flip out when I mention that the difference between Coke and Pepsi doesn't really matter that much to me
28. The 927 Viagra spam e-mails I get each day
29. That eye twitch that arrives with stressful situations and sticks around for a week
30. Folks who are just a little too smug about always buying organic
31. Individuals who walk in the front doors of a Big Box store and just stand there in awe (note, this is most annoying when I am behind said person)
32. Flossing
33. Velveeta
34. Folks who add an H to my name where an H clearly does not belong
35. Breaking News that is neither Breaking nor News
    

I don't like it when

My ex clicks "Like" on my Facebook status.

It feels condecending.

New fake word

One of my coworkers just invented this one.

Delighter: (noun) something that delights.

The Sunday brunch was a significant delighter to Mom.

I give up.

Fat, furry alarm clock

Lola, my cute tabby cat (that's her on the left, not just some cat model lifted from Google), has packed on some serious lard.

She's getting orca-fat.

When she jumps off of a piece of furniture, there's a serious thud. She makes fat old-lady sounds when she jumps too. It's pretty pathetic

I'd like to say it's because the weather is a bit cooler and she's getting ready for the winter.

But the fact is, kitty likes to eat. And eat. And eat. And between feedings, she's not running marathons. She's pretty much flopped on her side, working up the energy to make it back to the food dish.

I know she eats all day while I'm at work, but I can't take up the food (I have another cat without a binge problem; she's a dainty eater). So I'm putting up the food at night when we should all be sleeping anyway.

It's not been a popular decision.

When the sun comes up, Lola cannot wait one. minute. longer. She hops up on the bed (Whump! Fat Old Lady Noise). I get a little are you awake? meow. Then she tries to lick my nose. Then she (not so gently) bats at my nose (oops! were my claws out? so sorry!). And, as a last resort, she grabs a mouthful of my hair and puuuuuuulls.

OK! OK! I'm up!

Sigh.

Haiku of the Day

The first kiss of fall
Arrived at my door this month
It's corduroy time!

Stuff I learned from TV over the weekend

I had a laaaaazy Labor Day weekend (I labor, so I figure I've earned it).

In between naps, I watched a fair amount of television.

I learned that Bernard Goetz is still a crazy racist vigilante, but now he's a vegetarian. (So switch subway cars if you see him... unless you're a German Shepherd.) He also adopted a squirrel that he found in Central Park that he says is The Love of His Life. It lives with him in his apartment. I shit you not.

I also learned that Ted Kaczynski's brother David lived in fortified a hole in the ground in the Texas desert for part of his life. By choice. And he's the SANE one.

Because you SHOULD be able to judge a book by its cover...

Betterbooktitles.com tells it like it is!!

36 things I love

1. My parents/family
2. Beau
3. My friends
4. My cats
5. Watching the tea seep out of the tea bag when I dunk it in hot water
6. Books
7. That crunchy noise that dry leaves make when you step on them
8. Really great pens (I'm partial to the Pilot Precise V5 Rolling Ball in green)
9. Autumn
10. Sleeping in
11. A good sneeze
12. The smell of bubble gum
13. The number 13
14. The occasional donut
15. Lazy, agenda-free afternoons
16. When Rush Limbaugh/Glenn Beck make fools of themselves
17. CHEESE
18. Inside jokes
19. The letter N
20. 75-degree days
21. A handful of nickels 
22. Snow with big, fluffy flakes
23. Bright colors
24. A Cherry Cricket burger with avocado, smoked cheddar, and Dijon mustard (if you haven't had one, you really haven't lived)
25. Those rare and elusive shoes that are both cute AND comfortable
26. Rainstorms
27. Belly laughs
28. Modern art
29. September (I like writing 9s in the date)
30. School supplies
31. Being right (really, who doesn't?)
32. Compelling fiction (in the form of film, TV, or book--it doesn't really matter)
33. True crime shows on TV (48 Hours rocks)
34. Contentedness 
35. Crisp, clean sheets
36. Friendships so entrenched that all you have to do is look at each other and you both burst out laughing

Fruity false bill of goods

You hear a car door slam outside your house.
A delivery man approaches the door.
Ding-dong!
For me? Oh, how exciting! It's a bouquet... of fruit.

We've seen the commercials. And let me tell you, NOBODY is that happy to get fruit. Especially when you know that it's $12 worth of fruit that's been cut, arranged, and sold for $50 or more.

It's FRUIT, people.

I had the zombie dream again

I have zombie dreams a lot. I don't know why.

And, every time, my brain changes it up so I'll be prepared for anything in the oncoming zombie apocalypse.

Last time, the zombies had Jurassic Park T-rex sensibilities (they could sense movement, but their eyesight wasn't good, so if you stood reeeeeeally still, you could escape a brain chewing).

This time, you could stun them (and maybe change them back; I never got confirmation on that) with a blow dart.

I will pass on the zombie-escape tips as I get them.

You'll thank me.