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| I'd like to get a look at the loopy-loop machine that makes this magic happen. |
Well, it used to be one of my favorite things.
Monday, February 28, 2011
This is just one of my favorite things
Processed dessert-cake foodstuff with "creme filling."
Brings back fond memories (and a bit of a tummy ache... and a perplexing aftertaste, but I'll get over that... Right? Why am I suddenly sweaty and dizzy? Whoa! Was that a cramp? How long were those things in the vending machine? Oh, lordy, the unpleasantness).
Well, it used to be one of my favorite things.
Well, it used to be one of my favorite things.
Fun with ancient neighbors
It's a good thing I like my little house, because along with my HOA, I have grumpy-ass old-lady neighbors to contend with.
The kind who smile at you and say vicious things behind your back (one neighbor in particular went on a tirade about me to a couple of strangers--those strangers happened to be my parents. Oops).
I'm sure I give them scads of stuff to gossip about. Like the fact that I sometimes have men over and I'm not even married! Scandalous. (It's one man, BTW, and it's been the same man for years, but I'm sure he's been translated into A different man every weekend!).
In the middle of last week, a package was delivered to my house by mistake (big mistake. The numbers weren't similar and the street was wrong; I think the UPS guy just shrugged and dropped it).
I brought it inside and vowed to drop it off on Saturday (because I don't feel like knocking on strangers' doors after dark after work when I'm tired anyway).
On Saturday, I went for a walk and found the address. I could have left it on the porch, but, glutton for punishment that I am, I rang the bell. A dour-faced woman answered the door, and I introduced myself as a neighbor and explained that her package got dropped at my house by mistake.
Where do you live? she demanded.
I gave her a veeeeery vague description of where I lived.
You must have brought it inside, because I looked on a number of doorsteps for this!
Well, yes, I brought it in. I didn't want something to happen to it.
Well, I called the company and said someone must have taken it and they told me they'd have to send me another one. Now I have to call them back. Thanks.
[Door closes.]
Oh no... the accusation that I was out to steal your stupid package is thanks enough.
I'm sure her old-lady order from Lands End would have been quite the haul.
The kind who smile at you and say vicious things behind your back (one neighbor in particular went on a tirade about me to a couple of strangers--those strangers happened to be my parents. Oops).
I'm sure I give them scads of stuff to gossip about. Like the fact that I sometimes have men over and I'm not even married! Scandalous. (It's one man, BTW, and it's been the same man for years, but I'm sure he's been translated into A different man every weekend!).
In the middle of last week, a package was delivered to my house by mistake (big mistake. The numbers weren't similar and the street was wrong; I think the UPS guy just shrugged and dropped it).
I brought it inside and vowed to drop it off on Saturday (because I don't feel like knocking on strangers' doors after dark after work when I'm tired anyway).
On Saturday, I went for a walk and found the address. I could have left it on the porch, but, glutton for punishment that I am, I rang the bell. A dour-faced woman answered the door, and I introduced myself as a neighbor and explained that her package got dropped at my house by mistake.
Where do you live? she demanded.
I gave her a veeeeery vague description of where I lived.
You must have brought it inside, because I looked on a number of doorsteps for this!
Well, yes, I brought it in. I didn't want something to happen to it.
Well, I called the company and said someone must have taken it and they told me they'd have to send me another one. Now I have to call them back. Thanks.
[Door closes.]
Oh no... the accusation that I was out to steal your stupid package is thanks enough.
I'm sure her old-lady order from Lands End would have been quite the haul.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Cell phone pettiness
Last night, I went to call Beau (number six on the old speed dial) and chuckled to myself.
He used to be number three, because that's his favorite number.
But then, a few years ago, we had a hiccup. We broke up (my recollection)/were on a break (his recollection). When he came to his senses and we got back together, I demoted him to number six and gave him a stupid ringtone.
Which is silly, really. He's never going to call himself from my phone, and he'll never be around to hear the ringtone.
Sadly, I must admit that the whole thing made me feel better.
(I told you it was petty.)
He used to be number three, because that's his favorite number.
But then, a few years ago, we had a hiccup. We broke up (my recollection)/were on a break (his recollection). When he came to his senses and we got back together, I demoted him to number six and gave him a stupid ringtone.
Which is silly, really. He's never going to call himself from my phone, and he'll never be around to hear the ringtone.
Sadly, I must admit that the whole thing made me feel better.
(I told you it was petty.)
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Another bad date
When I was about 15, a new family moved into the house next door. They had a son my age named Todd. My folks thought it would be nice for me to offer him our extra ticket to a college football game (which, in Norman, Oklahoma, is THE social event of any Saturday during the fall).
We watched the game. Didn't have much to talk about, really. So I started reading the banners attached to the planes that were circling overhead.
Billy Bob's Cajun Chicken, I read.
Um, excuse me, Todd interrupted. I believe it's pronounced CAAH-HOOON.
End. Of. Date.
We watched the game. Didn't have much to talk about, really. So I started reading the banners attached to the planes that were circling overhead.
Billy Bob's Cajun Chicken, I read.
Um, excuse me, Todd interrupted. I believe it's pronounced CAAH-HOOON.
End. Of. Date.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Take off, hosers
I despise my HOA (if you don't know what an HOA is, count this among your blessings).
I typically don't read the newsletters they send out because it's usually a bunch of angry tirades followed by Come to the Neighborhood BBQ! Fun for all!
Um, no thanks. You've slapped my hand enough times that I don't think I could properly hold one of your grilled delicacies now, you asshats.
You can tell who they are by the clipboards. They walk around the neighborhood with clipboards, carefully scrutinizing each house. If they don't like your front door, they mark it down. If they don't like your window fan, they mark it down. If they don't like the flower basket you have on your front steps, they mark it down.
And when they're done with the demerit patrol, they send out petty little notices demanding that you right the wrong or pay a penalty and risk having the indiscretion go down on your permanent record. And they don't sign their names either (they're smart enough in that respect); they sign off as The Architectural Committee.
Sigh.
This is what I spied in the latest newsletter before I crumpled it up and threw it out:
With the cold winter temperatures, we hope you've all disconnected your hoses. However, because it is winter, hoses should not be out. Hoses out in winter make our development look trashy. If you'd like to keep your hose, please store it in your garage.
That's right. They're threatening to steal our hoses.*
Really?
WTF IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? HAVE THEY NOTHING BETTER TO DO WITH THEIR TIME?
*Luckily, my unsightly wintertime hose is behind my fence. I've avoided the clipboard mafia wrath... this time.
I typically don't read the newsletters they send out because it's usually a bunch of angry tirades followed by Come to the Neighborhood BBQ! Fun for all!
Um, no thanks. You've slapped my hand enough times that I don't think I could properly hold one of your grilled delicacies now, you asshats.
You can tell who they are by the clipboards. They walk around the neighborhood with clipboards, carefully scrutinizing each house. If they don't like your front door, they mark it down. If they don't like your window fan, they mark it down. If they don't like the flower basket you have on your front steps, they mark it down.
And when they're done with the demerit patrol, they send out petty little notices demanding that you right the wrong or pay a penalty and risk having the indiscretion go down on your permanent record. And they don't sign their names either (they're smart enough in that respect); they sign off as The Architectural Committee.
Sigh.
This is what I spied in the latest newsletter before I crumpled it up and threw it out:
With the cold winter temperatures, we hope you've all disconnected your hoses. However, because it is winter, hoses should not be out. Hoses out in winter make our development look trashy. If you'd like to keep your hose, please store it in your garage.
That's right. They're threatening to steal our hoses.*
Really?
WTF IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? HAVE THEY NOTHING BETTER TO DO WITH THEIR TIME?
*Luckily, my unsightly wintertime hose is behind my fence. I've avoided the clipboard mafia wrath... this time.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Holiday-weekend discoveries
A new favorite TV show.
An Idiot Abroad is the funniest damn thing I've seen in a long, long time. Send a grumpy Englishman to the seven wonders of the world, make each trip as miserable as possible, and watch the magic happen.
When I say I'm not going to spend any money in the bookstore...
It means I'm going to spend $27.
Winter's Bone is an amazing movie.
I've officially seen all but one of the best-picture nominated films (I refuse to watch a guy saw his own arm off; I'm sure it's a beautiful, artistic experience, but no). Winter's Bone won't win, but it's so gritty and stark and good that it should.
I can wake up Beau WITH MY MIND.
On Saturday evening, Beau and I were watching TV. He'd dozed off about 25 minutes beforehand. Suddenly, I wondered if I could wake him up just by staring at him. So I opened my eyes wide and thought WAKE UP! as hard as I could. His eyes fluttered open in two seconds. I was beside myself with excitement.
Sadly, he did not share my joy.
An Idiot Abroad is the funniest damn thing I've seen in a long, long time. Send a grumpy Englishman to the seven wonders of the world, make each trip as miserable as possible, and watch the magic happen.
When I say I'm not going to spend any money in the bookstore...
It means I'm going to spend $27.
Winter's Bone is an amazing movie.
I've officially seen all but one of the best-picture nominated films (I refuse to watch a guy saw his own arm off; I'm sure it's a beautiful, artistic experience, but no). Winter's Bone won't win, but it's so gritty and stark and good that it should.
I can wake up Beau WITH MY MIND.
On Saturday evening, Beau and I were watching TV. He'd dozed off about 25 minutes beforehand. Suddenly, I wondered if I could wake him up just by staring at him. So I opened my eyes wide and thought WAKE UP! as hard as I could. His eyes fluttered open in two seconds. I was beside myself with excitement.
Sadly, he did not share my joy.
Friday, February 18, 2011
A sign of age?
My bangs were annoying me last night.
So I cut them myself.
Which would have been fine, but then I cut 'em a little more.
And then I needed to even them out, so I cut a little more.
In short, it was a bit of a massacre.
Yet, strangely, I had/have no qualms about walking around in public looking like this. When I see myself in the mirror, I just chuckle a bit and move on. (In a bit of irony, I admitted this to beau, and his only response was I cut my hair last night too!)
I think back to a Bangs Massacre in the late 80s (the Big-Bang Era) when I refused to leave the house.
Why don't I care now?
Have I lost my vanity or have I lost my pride?
Toss-up.
But I guess a reduction in vanity or pride is a good thing, so I'm running with it.
So I cut them myself.
Which would have been fine, but then I cut 'em a little more.
And then I needed to even them out, so I cut a little more.
In short, it was a bit of a massacre.
Yet, strangely, I had/have no qualms about walking around in public looking like this. When I see myself in the mirror, I just chuckle a bit and move on. (In a bit of irony, I admitted this to beau, and his only response was I cut my hair last night too!)
I think back to a Bangs Massacre in the late 80s (the Big-Bang Era) when I refused to leave the house.
Why don't I care now?
Have I lost my vanity or have I lost my pride?
Toss-up.
But I guess a reduction in vanity or pride is a good thing, so I'm running with it.
My new motto
I'm stealing it from Michael Douglas.
Put forth your best effort... and then f&%k it.
I love it. If you've done your best, what's the point of worrying?
Put forth your best effort... and then f&%k it.
I love it. If you've done your best, what's the point of worrying?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
When did my shopping list become so boring?
I texted myself my shopping list last night (it's the electronic equivalent of the sticky note or a string around the finger):
Seems like my shopping lists were so much more interesting when I was in my 20s when the list was more likely to include:
Sigh. I might have to throw some sparkly lipgloss in the cart tonight for old times' sake.
- Cat food
- Fabric softener
- Toilet paper
- Dish soap
- Diet soda
Seems like my shopping lists were so much more interesting when I was in my 20s when the list was more likely to include:
- Sparkly lipgloss
- Tequila
- Condoms (sometimes; don't judge)
- Frozen pizza
- Ice cream
- Sheets with cowgirls on them (which I still have and love, thank you very much)
Sigh. I might have to throw some sparkly lipgloss in the cart tonight for old times' sake.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
ENGRISH!
One of my coworkers went for "Nice Chinese Food" and found this wrapped around the chopsticks. I've typed out (verbatim) the "directions" for your enjoyment.
Welcome to Chinese Restaurant.
Please try your Nice Chinese Food With Chopsticks
the traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history
and cultural.
Learn how to use your chopsticks
Please try your Nice Chinese Food With Chopsticks
the traditional and typical of Chinese glonous history
and cultural.
- Tuk under tnurnh and held firmly
- Add second chcostick hold it as you hold a pencil
- Hold tirst chopstick in original position move the second one up and down Now you can pick up anything:
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