Laughing All The Way

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Pete and Repeat

This morning I made my own hairspray by combining sugar and water in my company wash room.

Let me back up and tell the story.

My week started with hints of awesomeness: New Year’s Eve we did some drinking and I was all dressed up real pretty, I had a relaxing long weekend, and my birthday is coming up. Monday was a pretty lazy day with only a few things that I needed to do, some of which got did and the rest was shoved into my desk for “later on”. Tuesday had a slow start, I generally start with a 10 AM meeting that I call into and promptly put on mute for two hours. Sometimes I take a nap, sometimes I fold origami, sometimes I search the internet for all sorts of hilarity. All three things happened this Tuesday and then I hung up early so my co-workers could take me out for a birthday lunch.

Getting back to my office I observed a bomb of humanity that exploded all over my desk top. Seriously, don’t know why, but I spent the next 5 hours cleaning up the gore that comes with the above referred exploded humanity. By 6 I was ready to run screaming and I was more than happy to go home and do some baking. I find that baking soothes me. Plus I like licking the bowl.

I made cupcakes and just as I was pulling out the first batch Bruce walked in with dinner. Everything was coming together nicely and there was food and I was warm and no one was complaining about their boring ass bullshit needs. I ate my food and then a (ok two) cupcakes and started to bunker down for the night. I set the alarm for 5:45 and 6:00 because I had a 7 AM meeting today that is a 20 minute ride from my place. I took my place on the couch (Bruce snores and when I have an early morning I tend to start the night on the couch rather than spend a few hours wanting to kill Bruce and then moving to the couch) and said goodnight to Bruce.

Imagine my surprise when at 6:40 Bruce wakes me up and says that I am late. But how could I be late? I wanted to be nice to Bruce so I gathered my outfit for the morning in the living room (that means I don’t have to turn on the light and wake him up). I grabbed my clothes, brushed my teeth and twisted my hair in a knot and ran out the door. I made it to the meeting at 7 exactly and I prayed I looked okay.

After my meeting I called interrogated Bruce. Bruce claims that when the first alarm went off at 5:45 he woke me up (“I opened my bedroom door and said hey get up and you muttered something.”) and when I asked if he turned on the light he started to mumble something about telling me to get up. Then I asked, “but what happened to the other alarm?” and Bruce then repeated his story about getting up at 5:45. I asked again if he thought about turning on the light to make sure I was up and this is where he started over in his story. Bruce is always telling me that it’s not his fault when things like this happen, it’s not his responsibility.

And today, I totally realized something, as I was leaving my meeting, slapping on make-up at the red lights so I could go to my next meeting. Bruce is not responsible. He’s many nice things: smart, funny, stable.  He’s just not responsible. So when I got to work and pulled through my bag I found my travel toothbrush, an eyebrow brush/liner and a packet of sugar. I managed to use the toothbrush to tease my bangs at the root to give some volume (toothbrush has now been thrown away), I used the eyebrow brush to pull up the hair at the roots and kind of neaten up the fly-aways. I pulled my hair into a loose and casual french braid and then I mixed a little water and sugar together to make hair spray to smooth down the sides.

One of the people from the 7 AM meeting who was also at my 9 AM meeting complimented my braid and my pulled together look. The upside is that I clearly am in training to kick MacGvyer’s ass in an emergency grooming situation. The downside is that I can’t ever think of Bruce as responsible and that’s kind of a big thing yo.

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

You Can’t Handle The Truth

Today I read a story in the New York Times (I’ll give you a minute to skim). And it made me mad.

The new assholes all over the internet are learning all about the internet. Bitches, we’ve all been here for a decade and now you want to talk about how what you write on the internet isn’t private. Thanks. No really, I hadn’t known that.

My mom has found facebook. She’s my friend. As are a bunch of other people that I couldn’t give a shit about in high school and certainly don’t now. I hide pretty much everyone, especially the girls from college and high school who post all about the meal they cooked for dinner and how their children are now fully potty trained. There is a reason why mommy blogs exist, go get a free blog and leave the rest of us alone. What kills me is that my inclination to post funny things about my day (like imaginary miscarriages - more about that next) has been buried because I know it would offend all these people I don’t even like in the first place.

My mom, new to the idea of the internet, was trying to explain facebook to me. No, seriously, she said: “And you can put little tid bits about your day into the box and people can see it all.” My mom then explained to me how you will be told who else you know on facebook because the magic of facebook (I didn’t try to explain to my mom computer logic and how she allowed access to her email address book, I let it be magic). I was honestly so incredulous about the whole “let me tell you about the internet thing” that I called her back when Bruce and I were driving somewhere, put her on speaker phone and had her go through the details of the internet again. Bruce was equally entertained by the dialogue and when my mom gets to the part of her spiel about how when you post something on facebook you have to be careful because anything you write can be read by everyone else and so it’s not really a private conversation and in fact, everyone in America can read what you just wrote (not getting into the details of how, really only friends can read what you write on facebook, didn’t want to confuse the new girl). Bruce chose this moment to interject “everyone in the whole world can read what you just wrote.” My mom actually squeaked “THE WHOLE WORLD!” She promptly hung up, I am sure to go tell her husband that the whole world can read what she posts on the internet.

On one level I just want to laugh, because a) this is laughing all the way and b) it’s like people really haven’t been paying attention all along. Welcome to Web 2.0 fools. Careful to not feed the trolls. I’ve had such freedom here, posting what I want, when I want about who I want without a care. Facebook is painfully dull because I have to be so cautious about who and what and why and how foul. I’ve never had to worry about snark or scorched earth (remember that guy, I fucked him up! It was fun). I talked about sex, drugs and bikini waxing (more about that later too). I’ve talked about Bruce (who by the way, tried to tell me that he didn’t really know how to text with his phone. The fool has a blackberry for his phone and he can’t figure out how to send a text. Douche). I’ve made fun of my family (see above) and said fuck…a lot. It’s been a while since I’ve blogged with any regularity and I don’t know if I have the brain power to do so again for the time being, but I love the ability to come here and say what I mean to say (John Mayer is annoying - stop twittering you fucking tool). SEE! While my life is far less exciting than when I first started blogging, for instance, I don’t drink, smoke or snort anything (oh but I do take pills yay for pills), I think as I find the next phase of my blogging self I will get back on the writing horse.

The laters:

I was at the gym on Monday and my trainer (who I call the Workout Nazi, something that would offend most of my Jewish family on facebook - losers ruining my good times) kicked my ass and made me puke three times. I had eaten half of a granola bar two hours before and my stomach took way too long to digest.  I was trying to do that thing I do when I am drunk and I am going to puke so I breathe deeply through my nose. Unfortunately all I could do was run to the bathroom and vomit. Hard. So I became that bulimic girl at the gym. It was like college all over again without the drunk whores passed out. I knew that all 6 women in the other stall heard the whole thing. I was prepared with a story. If asked if I was okay, I was going to say that I was pregnant (“I don’t know why they call it morning sickness, I have it all day!”). Then I realized that in 9 months they would be like, where’s the baby. At which point I would have to say that sadly I miscarried shortly thereafter.

I was going to facebook the story, but then figured my mom and the facebook mommy bloggers would not find that at all funny. And so I didn’t post.

Also, I’ve gone for a second course of laser therapy for hair removal. By May 2010 I will be like those hairless pussies. HA. No really, HA! I just couldn’t go on with the shaving and the waxing and the hair. Finally I took the plunge. I go, I put on numbing ointment, and a very nice women puts a laser when the sun has never shined. I have the distinct honor of being able to tell you all about the time a laser was slid between my ass cheeks and shocked the hair follicles into submission. The two days after are nice, then there is the growth period where the dead hairs work their way out from the root and then the shedding begins. I love shedding. I feel like if I can live through the electrocution of the hair on my labia (fun with google search key words), which is the most painful thing to happen to me that I will pay for repeatedly, then I can probably do anything.

Pills are awesome. I have been playing with antidepressants to treat my tinnitus. My primary care physician has been refreshingly willing to keep changing things up without requiring me to come in with every prescription change. I’ve not found the perfect pill in the perfect dose. What I have found is that I have an opposite reaction to Elavil (up all night with rhonda shear). Also, Paxil plus sudafed makes me feel like I did an eight ball of coke. You can imagine how much I love Paxil and sudafed when trying to work and not be totally high and fucked up. I asked my co-worker if I seemed high, also, if she thought I was acting straight. She said “yes and no.”

I am now going to go troll the internet and write mean things that all the other people in the world can read.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Just a city boy, born and raised in south detroit

The recent appearance of some past friends has had an unusual effect on my life. My balance had been unbalanced. Balance.

There is always the welcomed flashback, especially in the case of the good ex. I know, such an oxymoron, but he was good. He’s still very good. And that is good. I really need to stop saying good. Then there’s the bad. The very bad. So, I am more than happy to hear about the good and his happy life. Knowing that his life is doing what life does and includes someone that keeps him warm at night…is. It just is. It’s the bad that drives me nuts.

Basically every time I hear from him all I can think is “Hey fucker. Shut the fuck up. You stupid annoying fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Of course others might think that I care and that’s why I am annoyed by his very presence. Thankfully I’ve had an epiphany, it’s not that I care, it’s that I really don’t believe the drivel that comes running out of his mouth. At least three times in the last five years he’s told me all about the woman he’s going to marry…this time. There is a point where the comment is actually superfluous and that is not something one should think about a declaration of love.

I understand that he has always wanted to meet the girl of his dream, get that house with the white picket fence, a few kids, a dog and a sunset. But for all that is holy man, stop being so transparent. There’s a reason why so many perfect matches turn out to not be what he thinks. I just wish he would stop trying to convince me of whatever it is that he’s trying to convince himself.

I have a friend going through some bad times with a very toxic friend. We’ve all had them. It’s so hard to cut them off and make a break from them. There is something in the way the toxic friend builds a relationship that makes the innocent party feel guilty, like it’s our fault for not being more understanding or something. I gave her some great advice and told her that I would support her in making a clean break. The thing is, I should have been taking my own advice. My bad ex is totally toxic. He is all those things that would make me drop a friend.

He is selfish and stupid. He has only ever thought about himself and was never really interested in what I needed. He is still trying to run his game and I keep letting him be in my life. But why? What’s in it for me? Where is the take in this give and take situation? The toxicity is overwhelming at this point and there is only one way to flush this out of my life.

It’s time for me to tell him who he really is. He is, quite frankly, not a good guy. He is not my friend. He has no place in my life. Good bye bad ex. Ye hardly knew me.

Friday, July 18, 2008

Magically Delish!

I caught this show called: Ashley Paige: Bikini or Bust” and I think I have a new favorite show. The main character is of no importance, it’s her mom who makes the whole thing worth while. In an attempt to find her daughter a boyfriend, the woman goes to the hardware store. Her thinking was the hardware store “cause it’s usually full of men.” She then approaches endless men in the store making small talk and sounding generally crazy. But, god bless the mother’s of the men in this hardware store, because without an exception, every single one of them was appropriately “interested” in the conversation this lady was insisting on having with them.

The best part was when she interviewed to the camera as she’s walking around the corner, away from the camera, in the hardware store: “Goodness gracious, this place is so full of people, this is the perfect place to find a man.” The brilliance of this part is that she wasn’t really talking to the camera, she was crazy-lady talking to herself, it was just happenstance that the camera was there to catch this outing.

I have a soft spot for these types of people. My grandmother is known to have conversations with the random passerby and she does insist on speaking to herself at a loud-ish tone, to the point that strangers sometimes thinks she’s yelling at them.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

What I did on my summer vacation: by Some Girl

Bruce, the thoughtful bugger, called me yesterday while I was picking up dinner. We had a quick rendezvous at the gas station (so romantic, cost more than a gourmet dinner too, fuckers) and I went to pick up food and he went home. In the ten minutes that I was at the restaurant Bruce called to tell me that I had a message on the answering machine and that the fish were still alive. The fish are living in a condition that no mere mortal fish would survive. Bruce and I returned from Boston from our yearly summer vacation. The fourth of July in Boston is a good time. I managed to see almost everyone that I like to see once a year. Technically I would like to see everyone more often but those bitched won’t come here. Hurry up bitches, come here!

Because here is suddenly more awesome.

Two days before we left for Boston, I moved out of my apartment with Bruce and into my own place in San Francisco. I may have picked the worst time in the world to make a move what with vacation coming, plus I had a certification exam at work that required 8 hours a day of studying for the two weeks leading up to the exam. I may have experienced a minor mental breakdown on my first day of vacation. I then read four books in five days, got a wicked tan, ate some lobster, and did some drinking.

As always, getting back to real life was the sadness; both Bruce and I were shooting looks of longing at the receding Boston shoreline and then bounced right back into life. I now have the pleasure of spending the next two weeks moving the remaining objects up to the city. I am going to address the important things first. For instance, right now the only edible objects in my apartment are containers of powdered iced-tea. Not surprisingly the only thing in my refrigerator is a pitcher of iced-tea. My furniture is getting delivered, very slowly, by freight companies across the bay area. I figure at this rate, I will have a hard surface for writing by 2009.

Work has decided to calm down, very nicely of it, if I do say so myself, and with any luck Bruce will minimize the phone calls about phone calls. Which is probably best because I still haven’t figured out how to work the phone in my apartment.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Things My Boyfriend Says

Me: “We have to go to dinner. Let’s get ready.”
Bruce: “Ready.”
Me: “Don’t suppose you’re going to do anything about your hair?
Bruce: “?”
Me: “Your hair appears to be standing on end in the back.”
Bruce: “Sooooo?”
Me: “Take your shirt off, t-shirt too.”
Bruce: “Um, okay?”
Me: “Put your head in the sink.”
Bruce: (with his head in the sink) “What is going on here?”
Me: (Turning on the water) “Less talking, more washing.”
Bruce: “Don’t waterboard me Dick Cheney!”

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

sated and satire

Soooooooooooooooo

I went to Texas a few weeks ago. What, you expect prompt updates? Please bitches. The mood had yet to strike.

Texas was fun. I hung out with 19 year-olds with fake ids. No really, that was fun. I must have been a little bit like those kids back in the days of my illegal drunkitude. I also hung out with 30-somethings with real ids. That was also fun. Mostly because we found the most excellent bar eva that served food late and played music that made me happy. (Oh yeah, hanging out with 19 year-olds meant that I knew one song throughout the whole night.) But really the best part of the whole weekend, and there were many wicked moments over the length of the weekend, was the moment at brunch when the band started to play. The sign on the door said Gospel music and my friend and I were expecting the very best baptist choir that Texas had to offer. Imagine our surprise at the blue-grass gospel that accompanied our brunch.

The one thing that Sunday brunch with blue-grass gospel made me realize (no, not that I am a sinner and that Jesus will walk me home, although that is what the lead singer would have me believe) was that I really miss living in the city. A point driven home when my friend and I had a few hours to waste and decided to catch a movie. The movie was hilarious but the theater was a gem. The served more than your usual popcorn and sour patch kids, they brought us a huge bowl of popcorn, warm cookies and ice cream. Also, if the mood should strike, a burger and a beer. Have no fear, my friend made sure to avail herself of the beer.

The need to move back to a city is hampered by a number of factors, like the car I just leased and my job that is squarely located in the suburbs. But in the end, I’ve told Bruce that it’s really a matter of my happiness and sanity, so I am going to have start looking for a place in the city. Of course this is a tall order because I need somewhere affordable (dang car payment), a secure place to park my car (no street parking for my dang car), and place that is one of three specific neighborhoods that are located next to the highway that would take me straight to my job. I know that finding the right place will take time, and that’s cool, but I would like to be there in the next few months.

Bruce keeps voicing his dislike for the idea of living in the city, and that’s cool. This is not the swan song for Bruce and Some Girl. I am just making the best of a situation and finding my way into living the best life I can in a place where I haven’t really found my footing. The only way I will ever make new friends is if I move. I can’t force Bruce to leave the suburbs but I can make the best decision for my life and that is moving to the city.

The decision was easy to make, now all I have to do is find a place that meets my requirements, and of course that’s always the hard part.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Eastered

So The Great White Way was fine and for my first business trip ever, was mostly easy. There was a missed flight due to no fault of my own but other than that, I survived being a grown-up. Then my second conference was okay as well. My co-workers are doing their best to make my job as difficult as possible and make really unreasonable suggestions in how they want our research data to be presented. But it’s cool because I made it entirely clear that I wasn’t doing the presentation so if someone in the audience had a question the presenter would be on their own to explain things. I think that they will come to the belief that the data should be shown in as simple way as possible.

The way that this last week went, next week is going to be a beast. The week after I head to super northern California for yet another conference. As much as I like a job that sends me to interesting place, I am almost burned out on this. I always thought I would love being a consultant and travel weekly to a customer site, and maybe I would if it were consistent, but this traveling for a day to be somewhere for a day to spend another day traveling home stuff kind of sucks.

The flip side is that the job itself is going really well. I tend not to write too much about the job but not because funny things don’t happen there, it’s just a different atmosphere than my last job so the “funny things” are much more contextual. Like the last funny thing was that I made the menopausal admin feel bad. See, without a huge contextual story that is totally not funny. And when I say funny, I mean not funny for her. And I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong the day I walked into the reception area of my office and asked if anyone else smelled that odor. (I described it as that smell of old lettuce. Like when you get a sandwich and eat only half and then eat the other half in a few days. The lettuce wilts and gets a very distinct taste. That taste was what I smelled). After spending about three minutes sniffing the air, the admin (aforementioned menopausal admin) said she couldn’t smell it, but she had just eaten her sandwich in the conference room but that it was a freshly made sandwich. Come to two days later when the analyst who sits next to the admin told me that apparently as a side affect of menopause our admin is secreting an odor out of her skin and two days before my odor sniffing adventure the other analyst and our boss had a similar conversation wherein the our boss who can’t smell because of a cold asked the analyst to sniff her (perfectly acceptable in our office) to confirm or deny that our boss was the source of the smell. When the analyst said that our boss was in the clear, the admin asked if it was her. The analyst innocently leaned in to sniff the admin and drew back quickly and was like: “um, kind of.” Unfortunately the way she drew back was more in line with the way people pull back when they open a container of rotten food, you know, all dramatic like. So you can now imagine how unfortunate my whole, “Do you smell that?” thing was.

So I call that funny, because when I was telling Bruce the whole thing from start to finish, the only thing I could do was laugh. I mean the whole thing was really unfortunate. And I totally feel bad knowing what I know now, because our admin is a nice person and is just doing her job.

Speaking of Bruce, who does not entirely find all my work stories as funny as I do, but totally thought the “Do you smell that” story was funny, he’s doing well enough. He’s got some weird pain things going on right now because of a tetanus shot he got on Friday. You see after the whole episode that meant I had to bring him to the hospital I made him get a complete physical (hence the tetanus shot). It turns out that the diet we’re on because Bruce felt fat has worked wonders on him, Bruce is now 5 pounds above his ideal weight. I wondered where I was at in the scheme of things and was rudely informed that I am not just overweight, I am technically considered obese. Damn, that is not good. Bruce seems even more motivated than ever, because those 5 pounds are totally weighing him down (seriously, why is he like this?) and wants to join a swish gym. I’m all in, because unless you’ve forgotten, I am technically obese.

Other than all that, things are so normal. I’ve taken to dropping the word marriage into every third conversation, least he forgets what I’m looking for here. Just yesterday we went to lunch with his sister and I told her that if Bruce didn’t propose in a timely manner I would move into a certain neighborhood in San Francisco. Bruce just rolled his eyes because he’s become use to my tactics of mentioning the fact that he hasn’t proposed marriage yet. His sister laughed but I am sure she will now apply gentle pressure to Bruce, mostly by telling her parents to pressure Bruce to propose. We’ll see what happens today at Easter lunch with his family.

And one final point: who finds Flavor Flav attractive? No really stop it VH-1.

Friday, February 22, 2008

The Thrill Is Gone

Can someone tell me why exactly can I not have my cake and eat it too? As far as I am concerned, if that motherfucking cake is mine I’ll eat it if I want to. Who would come up with such a stupid statement? It must a been a really thin girl who was angry at her fat friends or something. Angry thin girls, I say boo to you, boo I say.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Patience is a virtue

I have just come back from the car dealership. I have just put in an offer. They are searching for the exact car. And I now I will be poor.

I hate being poor.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

So this is how it’s going to be

Bruce and I are back. Being at work this week kind of kicked my ass. Monday was spent staring off into the distance and being confused by my phone ringing.

Tuesday was not much better but at least I was able to follow what people were saying in conversation.

Wednesday would have been fine except for the insanity of all the other people. Both my boss and myself felt like we had been hit by the Crazy Train.

Thursday, today, is probably going to be very very very very slow. I can just feel it. My normal morning commute of 45 minutes took over an hour and when I arrived at work I realized I had nothing to do.

But what you all really want to know is What I did on my Christmas Vacation (by Some Girl).

Bruce and I agonized over where we should go. Bali, Fiji, Tahiti, Bangkok (haha, I said cock), Dubai, Sydney, Hawaii were all rejected mostly by Bruce but I nixed Hawaii and Sydney. After finally waiting so long that we couldn’t find a hotel with a room open long enough we ended up just outside of Belize City, Belize (look it up, I’ll wait………).

So there was sun and stuff. Most importantly, though, there were iguanas. We named ours Stripy. Sometimes there was a second one hanging out near our cabana, we called him Other Stripy. Stripy seemed really civilized, I’m guessing he’s used to the resort guests getting all up into his grill, so we have a billion and 1 pictures of Stripy.

Also there were hammocks. I love me a good hammock; Bruce does not like his feet leaving the earth. After ten days of trying to get Bruce to laying in a hammock with me, he finally acquiesced on our last day. I chose a hammock that I saw someone else using earlier that week. The someone using the hammock was “well-fed” and thus I thought the hammock would very easily hold us both. Alas Babylon, just as Bruce and I were getting comfy one of the ropes holding the hammock up slid down the tree. Slid is such a graceful word with the implication that there was a gentle sliding motion, what we did was more along the lines of falling on our collective asses. Bruce may never believe me again when I say that something is lots of fun and won’t hurt.

There were fun things though, we fished, snorkeled, walked up a Mayan temple that brought us 100 yards straight up to see over the jungle trees, swam, kayaked, and generally hung out. This was Bruce’s first vacation outside of America and his first ever at a resort. Bruce has now been introduced to the wonder that is the all inclusive vacation and by George, I think he likes it. We’ve already started talking about our next big vacation that will take place in about two years.

Bruce and I spend so much time alone, usually we are alone together for the entire weekend that I knew we would be okay on vacation together, but still I worried that there would be a point when I tried to smother Bruce with a pillow or better yet, throw him into the lagoon with the Crocodiles and hope that nature would take its course. I should have known better, if there is one thing Bruce and I do well together it’s solitude.

And because we are going in reverse order, I will now present a list of things I received from Bruce for Christmas: A back massager that attaches to a work chair (or in my case is propped up on the couch while I watch TV), a set of exacto knives, a laptop base for my lap, paper cutter. Eventually I will be getting a new cell phone (I’m leaning toward a blackberry). Bruce, the lucky man that he is, received a lightsabre for the Wii and a piece of art for his new office at work (a decorated and signed lunchbox by Rosanne Cash that was part of a charity auction for the NYC Food Bank). Eventually he will be getting a new watch (I’m just waiting for him to pick one).

And let’s see…before that, Bruce was named partner at his law firm. Yeah, he’s finally a partner. That means some good things and some bad things, but mostly it means nothing is really going to change.

I’m off to go ice my carpal tunnel syndrome away, smell ya later.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Materially Speaking

Sometimes the universe sends me signs and sometimes I have to figure things out all on my own. The stuff I figure out on my own is probably an indication that I am maturing as a person. Also it means I am a lot less fun.

The last five years were an exercise in getting exactly what I want and paying whatever it took to get it. Judging from the credit card debt I carried I was paying but add in the emotional toll, I was paying a whole lot more than I thought. Having been gainfully employed for the past two months I can happily say that I have closed most of my cards, paid off the rest and carry very little other than my college loans (which I will be paying until my imaginary children are in college). I think that I am pretty content with life as it is and my needs, immediate and otherwise, are being well met. My desire to shop has decreased to the point that I would much rather not try on clothes and buy something new for the sake of having something new to wear.

All that said, there is a bag that I want to hump. In fact, I may have humped it in my dreams last night. And the night before. And the night before that. This bag is worth more than I spent in rent for the year of 2005. It is what most people spend on their first car. Heck it’s worth more than my first and second cars combined. And yet I covet this bag in a way that I can’t remember coveting anything in my entire life. I don’t know the likelihood of my getting this bag for any one of the various holidays that come up during the next three months. Indications from Bruce are such that I am not expecting this bag to appear magically over the course of Hanukkah, Christmas, or my birthday. The only hope that remains is that my real family will seek me out after all these years of being separated as there was a mix up at the hospital all those years ago and my real family is so pleased to finally find me that they shower me with money and gifts including one very special bag.

What? A girl can dream.

Edited to Add:

People are after me for a look at the bag, here is the ad where I first saw it.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

The fish seem to be better today

This morning I fed them with the light on and they ate in their normal chumming way. They are very violent eaters; they swim around and dart at the food and churn up the water causing all the food particles to swirl around. It’s like they know how to make it look like they work hard for their food even though they are the laziest fish in the world and we hand feed them daily. Bruce theorized that they hang out underneath the filter because that is the place with the least amount of current and therefore they expend the least amount of energy moving their fins to stay in place.

I feel like they were conning me into feeling bad for them and their unnatural fear of the light. I’ve decided as punishment for their manipulative behavior I am no longer going to prevent Bruce from standing along side the fish tank and screaming “HELLO FISHIES!”

Bruce, for his part, is of no help in maintaining the wild jungle that is the fish tank. He is on his way to another country of the Asian persuasion. Yet again he is flying business class to a land that is far, far away and he will come back with annoying gestures and habits. He also better come back with something of the duty free variety that sparkles in the sun. For my part I am supportive, as ever, with regards to Bruce’s travel as the more he’s away the more I can justify buying the new designer bag I want that costs the equivalent of what I spent on rent last year.

Monday, September 24, 2007

So noted

Bruce has returned from his travels. He picked up this habit that I recognize as similar to the faux British accent with which I spoke for about six months. Yes, Bruce spent the day saying the three Italian words he learned. He also displayed a penchant for saying: “In Italy we tend to…” and “Us Italians like to…” as well as “The Venetian hookers on the corner like to wear their undergarments as outer garments.”

I was a second away from stabbing him in the eye with a pen, but I have to be patient with dear Bruce. He’s only ever traveled for business so while he’s been places it’s not as if he’s been any place cool. This was his first experience in terms of going to a place that is a tourist destination and this was his first time where he had a day to go and do something touristy.

I think that Bruce is opening to the idea of travel with an eye toward the adventurous now that he’s been on this trip. At least once a day he’s declared that we need to go to Venice on vacation. I don’t think it will happen soon, we have some things planned for the next year that preclude a trip to Venice and now that I am working I have to be mindful of things like earned PTO and the like.

And if Bruce asks you if you would like some Limoncello just roll your eyes. He doesn’t even know what Limoncello is.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Why Do Women Go From Kittens To Cougars?

Bruce and I did something we’ve never before done. It was hot and sweaty. And my forearms hurt.

But the carpets have been steam cleaned and we are living in a much cleaner apartment. The organization around here has hit a whole new level, happily tying into my OCD needs for right angles.

I had an interview this afternoon. I think it went well and the interviewer asked when I would be able to start and about upcoming vacations. I figure if I’m not in the running they don’t bother asking. I just don’t know about the job. I know I need a job, I just don’t know if this is the one. It’s very technical, lots of database and report management and that’s the part of the job that I like the least, so um, huh.

I had my hair dyed on Saturday. I was going for highlights but the colorist gave me something more along the lines of a blanket of color on the crown of my head. I had to buy a box of hair dye and do an emergency corrective color before my interview. The colorist left a message saying that I can come in on Friday for a fixer-upper, I might go just to show her my excellent home dye job. And it cost a lot less.