True Blood

Don't get me wrong. I'm totally hooked on it and love the Soft-Core Bayou Vampire Porn genre as much as the next person. (Niche marketing at its finest!)

(I don't have the fancy cable channels, so I have to wait for seasons to be available on Netflix; I haven't  finished Season 2 yet.)

But what is the attraction to Bill the Vampire?
He's kind of haggard looking and he pronounces Sookie's name like Sucky.

Haiku of the Day

Of course, editors
Purchase books to celebrate
Good yearly reviews!

Take it down a notch, Cruella deGreen

I ran across the street to Whole Foods for one item. But, as it usually goes when I run into any store for one item, I ended up getting a couple of other things too. It ended up being a bit of an armful.

While I paid, the checkout girl sighed, looked at me, and said Do you think you're going to be needing a bag today? It was a bit much to carry across the street, up three flights of stairs, and back to the office, so I answered Yes, if you wouldn't mind.

She looked at me like I was an eco-terrorist, bagged my items, and gave me a snarky smile.

I nearly apologized for needing a bag at the grocery store. It's a paper bag! I will recycle it! I recycle all paper items! Sheesh.

I have enough stress in my life without a guilt-ridden trip to an overpriced muckety-muck grocery store.

Ah, the things that bother us when we're young...

Beau's family was in town over the weekend, including his nieces. All of them were vivacious and beautiful and in their early 20s. Two of them are a lovely combination of Cambodian and Sicilian and other beautiful genes.

They're talented and slender. And as you might have guessed, they get a lot of attention.

We were sitting around the table one evening when the two of them launched into the following discussion:

... and I HATE being called "exotic."
Oh, God, I hate it too. 
If I get called "exotic" one. more. time...

My 36-year-old (and still cute, but definitely not 22-year-old) self sat there and smiled.

What is it about the human condition that does not allow us to enjoy life's riches as they're given to us (especially in our youth)?

Someone's Granddad

Flipped me the bird on my way in to work this morning.

And then we were forced to drive side by side for MILES.

It was a special and classy moment.

EVEN IF you're a new father...

who's talking to a new mother at work about the new and exciting world of parenting...

Your coworkers never want to hear you ask her the following out loud:

"Does your baby have nipple confusion and tear you apart?" 

(The new mother probably doesn't really want to hear that either.)

Haiku of the Day

Roll my eyes and sigh
I've lost patience regarding
Your temper tantrums

Pale-girl update

I was very excited to look down at my feet the other night and see very vague, very light criss-crosses on the tops of my feet from my flip-flops.

I'm "TAN"!!

Generational double-standard

My grandmother and I have a... different kind of relationship. We try to get along (and, believe it or not--and most of you won't after reading this--a lot of the time we do), but because we're so much alike (according to the folks who know us best), we know where all of the buttons are and push them (with glee) when it gets right down to it. We really got going when I hit puberty and started asserting my independence. We've gotten in some good licks over the years.

She has:

• Upon seeing me for the first time in over a year, said I do believe you've gained weight! instead of Hello or I've missed you.
• Asked me at Thanksgiving dinner if I've ever thought of running a comb through my hair. When I told her that you can't comb curly hair without making it frizzy, she replied Oh, I just thought you might want to look nice sometime.
• Given me a bathroom scale for Christmas. (Let's note here that I am healthy, and I don't have a weight problem.)
• Turned to me after watching Ghostbusters and said (in all seriousness) You know this is all make-believe, don't you? This didn't really happen. (I was 12.)
• Said Well, I don't know to me after ANY recitation of fact on my part.
  The sun rose this morning, Grandma.
  Well, I don't know.
• Told me, after I suffered through an abusive relationship and a torturous escape from it, Well, he sure was handsome.

You get the gist.

I, in return, have:

• Graduated from not one, but two major universities without landing a husband (cardinal sin in her eyes, not to mention a terrible waste of tuition money).
• Held it over her head that I learned to drive and she did not. When she backseat drives, I tell her that when she gets her license, she can tell me how to drive. 
• Refused to take her shit (which gets to her more than anything because everyone takes her shit). 
• Because she's a staunch teetotaler, I've occasionally tipped a glass in front of her. 
• When I was 13, terrorized her with the microwave (she did not have one at home and was frightened of them) by wrenching open the door while it was cooking and shoving my hand inside (multiple times) to freak her out. 
• Worn flip-flops, despite the fact that, according to her, I was not raised that way. Whatever that means. 

And it goes on. Tit for tat. It's just how we exist and communicate. But there's one thing about her and many of the women in her generation that I will simply never understand. She values men more than she values women. She defers to men on every occasion. Nothing a woman could say could ever be smarter than something a man could say. Nothing a woman does will ever outweigh what a man does.

Case in point, yesterday (Father's Day), Grandma was showing me the practicality of her wallet/purse combo (as opposed to the huge, impractical sack I lug around--whatever, 22 tubes of lipgloss won't fit into a wallet/purse). When we got to the pictures section, there was a picture of my ne'er-do-well, good-for-nothing step-brother who has not been around or done anything nice for or with the family in well over a decade (we don't even know where he lives). He's stolen from my parents and disrespected them in countless ways. But there his picture was (mine was nowhere to be seen, even though I've been there for every birthday, holiday, and family function and/or emergency).

But alas, he sure was handsome in that wallet photo.

Mmmmmm.... donuts

Since I've started this new (mandatory) heart-healthy diet, I find myself fantasizing about eating donuts.

A lot.

I think about donuts with the frequency and longing of a Twihard thinking of that creepy vampire [Side note: those books suck ass; don't even try to defend them].

The coworker who thought there were 52 states? I named those states in my head: Donutland and Cheeseville. I'd love to visit this summer.

I haven't seen this particular episode, but in the opening credits of the Man vs. Food on the Travel Channel, Adam holds up a donut the size of Texas. It's bigger than his head. I doubt I'd succeed, but I'd sure love to give that challenge the old college try [Side note: how does he complete those insane eating challenges without 1) having a coronary and 2) suffering internal bleeding?].

I totally understand where Homer Simpson's coming from. 

And this entry has done nothing more than make me want more donuts.

Whimper.

Where are those damn rice cakes?