Tuesday, February 28, 2006

TMI Tuesday...in honor of Sheri.

I keep having dreams about my boyfriend proposing to me. But they’re really rather unsettling dreams, is the thing. Over the weekend, I had a dream that he proposed to me like his dad proposed to his mom. Basically, his dad asked her what kind of ring she’d like, should they ever take such a step, she said she didn’t know (the girl was only 17, for chrissakes), so he suggested they go and look, she found one she liked, he bought it for her, and that was that! No down on one knee, no romantic dinner or special place they liked to go together…he didn’t even ever really ask the question. And I think that rightly sucks. Call me old fashioned, but when my time comes, I want the question asked dammit. So in my dream, the same thing happened, sort of. Except there wasn’t any shopping involved, and he just had a ring for me. But he never asked me. And it bugged me.

So I told him about the dream last night, and he started giggling. "I’m going to propose by putting the ring on my penis…" I assured him that although he often likes to refer to his dick as being a "gerbil penis", it isn’t, and there certainly ain’t no way a ring that would fit his penis would fit my ring finger, so that idea just doesn’t fly. So he’s sitting there trying to figure out if a ring tied with a string to his penis would work, and I keep trying to assure him that it’s not a good idea to involve the penis in the proposal at all, but we keep laughing at the thought of it, so I finally agree to the penis proposal idea. But I also said that a real proposal would also have to take place. Really though, no penis proposal would be just fine with me. Either way, I guess it doesn’t matter. (I don’t think it’s a very safe thing to tie a string to a dick, though...)

And last night, I wound up having another dream about it. (I know…I wish I could tell my subconscious to ease up already…I don’t need this kind of pressure!) This time, he was showing me the ring, and ohmygod, it was terrible. It was different colors of gold, and it was HUGE, and it had diamonds in the weirdest places. It was swoopy, and came together at the top in this criss-cross pattern that just made no sense. If I’d put it on, it would have stuck up about 2 inches off of my hand. But putting it on would have been difficult, since there were diamonds inside of the band. I know, it makes no sense. So I told the boyfriend about it this morning as we were getting ready to head out the door. I told him it was huge and ugly, and his reply was, "Was it big enough to fit around my penis?"

Maybe I should get him a cock ring, or something. Jeezy…

Monday, February 27, 2006

Wait...was I even born yet?

I went to Wendy's today to pick up my cheap-ass, low-cal lunch (side salad w/ LF Ranch, and a plain potato - $2.13, thankyouverymuch!), and for a portion of my trip was driving behind a Subaru that had a "Carter/Mondale" sticker on it's bumper.

Now, just the very idea that this car has made it that long is amazing to me. But also the fact that the bumper-sticker itself was in such great shape was a fascination as well! It was sort of faded, but it didn't have any razor blade lines through it, like one might expect would happen when someone tries to remove a bumper sticker, especially one that says "Carter/Mondale" on it. All four corners were still in tact. And it didn't look as though it had any wear and tear from repeated washings/snow days over the past, what, 30 years.

There weren't any other stickers on this car.

I'm left wondering if this person found the sticker at a yard sale or something, and put it on their car just to throw people like me off? Would the sticky stuff even work still after sitting in someone's dusty den/basement/attic for all those years, if that was the case? Or perhaps this is a granny-mobile...you know, one of those cars from the 70's that only has 3,000 miles on it because the 80 year old person that owns it only uses it to go to and from church every Sunday? I don't know. Weird. Just thought I'd share.

I'll probly never move...

Anyone know what happened to Joelle? I keep checking Snappy Hour for an update, and it seems like it's been completely unhooked at this point, and I thought she was going to send out e-mails to us (i.e. the people that she didn't mind read her blog...which I thought I was one of, but maybe I'm wrong...) to let us know the new address, and now I just saw a comment on another blog that links to what appears to be her new blog that I was COMPLETELY unaware of, and I'm left going What the Hell?

Should I write to her, or should I assume that I ain't invited?

No time for a title...

A few months ago, I was in a lot of pain. I’d slept wrong, or stress had built up, or fairies flew in my window overnight to curse my back, or something. I could barely move, and realized that I needed to look into getting it fixed ASAP. I called and made a massage appointment for that same day, and met a man who had fingers that the fairies had blessed, it seemed, who worked miracles on me in just one short hour. (I don’t know why the fairies hate me and love other people, but it might’ve had something to do with the fact that I was a bit of a roly-poly kid, and maybe I stepped on one accidentally once, perhaps. That’ll piss off the fairy world right quick, as I understand it. Oh…you don’t believe in fairies? Oh, well, never mind then…) It was the best hour ever, really, and I wish I could relive it over and over again without having to suffer the charge for the services. But that’s not possible. So I just dream of those magic fingers doing their thing.

This past week, the pain was back in my neck again. I was having trouble turning my head to the right to any greatly varying degree, and my head was full of a headache that seemed to stem from my neck on a daily basis. So I made a massage appointment. But my primary mistake was making the appointment at a different salon than the one I went to last time. It’s more convenient, and I’m used to it now as it’s where I go to get my hair done, but oh, the price I paid!

The room was cold. And for some reason I didn’t say anything about it (maybe I thought the chick would pick up on my coldness when she noticed the goose bumps I had on my exposed body parts), and just suffered through the damn thing. That was my fault, I admit, but this chick started off on the wrong foot with me. She sat down and asked me if I’d ever had a massage before…I had just spent 5 minutes in the waiting area filling out paperwork that told her, yes, I HAD had a massage before, dammit. So I told her again that I had, and my last one was in June or July. "Oh, so it’s been a year?" Um, noooo. It was in June at the earliest, so that was just, what, 8 months ago? Her reply was that June is only 3 months away, so it’s been a year since my last massage. Whatever. Apparently, it’s already March for this woman. Fine.
On this same paperwork I filled out, there was a diagram for me to mark on as to what areas of my body I was needing attention. I circled my right shoulder and neck, my upper back, and my middle back. Yeah, those diagrams were a complete waste of time, as this chick chose instead to focus on my arms, my calves, and my chest.


Admittedly, my arms did have a good amount of tension built up in them, but I think that it might have been because I worked out about 2 hours before I went in for my massage, so they might’ve still been a bit tight. This chick worked them so hard that I have bruises on both of my biceps. And my chest doesn’t have any bruising, thank goodness, but the tenderness is still noticeable 2 days later, so yeah…think she worked that shit a bit too hard, maybe!!

Anyway, I wasted 60 damned dollars on that thing, and my back still feels tense. I’m not made of money, right? It was hard enough to justify having to go in for that massage in the first place, but once it gets to the point where I have a hard time turning my head in one direction or another, I know it has to be done. So I’m a bit pissed. The chick even asked me if I wanted to schedule another massage, and I almost said, "Yeah, with the guy at the Beauty Brands at 119th and Metcalf, but not here, bitch!" But I just told her that I obviously don’t get them very often, so thanks, but no.

So just to warn everyone in the area…If you go to the Beauty Brands on the Plaza for a massage, don’t hesitate to mention the temperature of the room if it bothers you, and make sure the massage therapist knows to focus on the areas you marked on the little diagram they give you. Because, for heavens sake, it’s just a waste of fucking time and money otherwise. And I hate wasting time and money, dammit. Hate, hate, hate…

Oh, and just an FYI, my calorie counting is on hold for a bit. I realized yesterday that I was literally becoming obsessed with food while I was doing it. I couldn’t think of anything else all day long, and it was getting overwhelming. I’ve gotten rather good at "guessing" the caloric content of items, and at adjusting my meals accordingly, so I figure that the next week or so should be a period of time for me to attempt to eat well and have the proper portions without writing every last morsel that I eat down. I know that writing it all down helps some people stay within their diet limits, or whatever, and it was helping me to a certain extent, but it seriously was causing me to become obsessed! All I thought about was food. All I wondered was whether I would be able to eat later. And I was kicking my own ass whenever I went even slightly out of the box (i.e. at a tootsie roll, or had a glass of wine, or even if I ate a handful of croutons on my salad!).

So I’m taking a break from it, is the thing. Just for a little bit. Maybe through next week. And in the meantime, I will keep working out, and hoping that my body decides to catch up to my new habits soon. Because it’s seriously frustrating the shit out of me at this point in time…
Ironically, it’s lunch time, and I need to find some food. So ta for now…happy fucking Monday, everyone.

Friday, February 24, 2006

By the way...

I went to Walmart last night to buy some lawn & leaf bags as I plan on doing yard work this weekend, and as I was searching through that monstrosity for the location of the aisle of trash bags, I came across the Easter section. Seems a bit early for Easter shit to me, so without thinking, I said, "Christ!" out loud, and then had to giggle at the appropriateness of my blaspheme. It was funny...ok, it was funny to me. Shut up.

Also, I just got an e-mail from the Twin that told me that my dad has a bad cold. Now, this might sound like a non-alarming thing to most other people, and I understand that. But my dad has a disease called pulmonary fibrosis, so for him to have a cold of any kind is really not cool at all. (His brother died of the disease about 2 and a half years ago after he caught a flu bug, which then became pnemonia, and he was unable to recover from it.) And while I'm sure that he's taking all the necessary steps toward getting himself better ASAP, I don't think it would hurt to send him a bit of good juju over the next few days.

You know, in my last post, I was considering voodoo curses, and here I am asking for good juju...maybe I need to reevaluate my religion choice at this point, eh? Time for me to become a witch, maybe? Hmm...

Thanks everyone! I love my dad, and want him to stick around as long as possible, obviously, and while positive thoughts can't be medically proven to actually have an effect on someone's health, it can't hurt, right? =)

Just to warn you, I discuss defecating at one point in this post...

I’m dizzy from the calories/lack o’ protein. So far this morning I’ve had a banana, an orange, a small glass of juice (I have to take my vitamins with juice), one of those muffins like the kind they have at Costco (not sure where it came from, but I remember having those a long time ago, and these muffins definitely coulda come from there…), and absolutely NO PROTEIN. I’m seriously dizzy. It’s not a good thing.

Every Friday morning at my office, we have breakfast served to us from 2 people that participate in the Friday Morning Breakfasts program. It rotates around through a group of about 30 of us (maybe more…I haven’t counted, really) throughout the year, and if we eat the breakfasts, then it means we will have to bring one sometime in the future. I don’t care, really. We’ve got them set up through May at this point, so I won’t need to bring a breakfast anytime soon, or anything. The last 2 weeks, they’ve included biscuits and gravy from two different restaurants, and some sort of fruit as well. (Sometimes it’s just juice…) Three weeks ago, it was this French toast thing that I couldn’t eat because it had dairy in it. This week, it was a variety of pastries…and fruit of course. I chose the big muffin over the danishes and bagels that were offered, as it’s been a while since I’ve had one, and I was kind of in the mood.

But the problem is that no protein was offered. So now I feel all icky and bleh and it’s kind of getting to the point where I’d like to throw up, I think. It’s like eating a dinner of just cake. Nothing else. Just the cake. But I almost think that’d be more acceptable, or something, since it’d be at the end of the day. This is the beginning of the day, and now I feel like shit, which isn’t any fun at all.

Ok, I had to grab a little package of peanuts from our snack stash to see if that’ll help at all. God, I hate this. I totally sabotaged my day by allowing myself to have that muffin! Now I’ve eaten half of the calories I allow myself all at breakfast-time, and so now I have to keep lunch and dinner to extremely low calorie amounts in order to make up for it! Which I probably won’t do, so this whole day is shot to hell, dammit. I’m gonna put a voodoo curse on the dumbass pair of people that brought breakfast today, is the thing. I mean, yeah, I coulda just grabbed an orange and then gone to the other kitchen and hooked myself up with a packet of Quaker Instant Oatmeal, and now that I think about it, that would’ve been a STUPENDOUS idea, really. But I didn’t. Fine. Voodoo curse on myself then. (Is it ok to give myself the curse of being obnoxiously pretty and charming and witty? No? Well, I’ll have to think of another one then, dammit…)

You know what’s interesting? I used to eat muffins like that about a year ago as a snack when I was feeling hungry at my old job. And they didn’t make me feel ill at all back then. Hm. Maybe my body has changed to the point where crap like that actually causes it to have a little reaction to it. I dunno. The peanuts appear to be helping a bit. I think I can throw the rest of the pack away, thank goodness.

My back is in a baaaaaad place right now, and I need to go get a massage. My neck is all fucked up, and my lower back feels like I’ve been putting too much strain on it lately with the workouts I’ve been doing. Can’t really afford a massage, but thank goodness for the credit card, because I HAVE to get one, no question.

My body is systematically breaking down, is my point. You should’ve seen the shit that finally came outta me this morning. (I was sorta constipated all day yesterday, due to my food choices for dinner the night before, and then I had those left-overs for lunch yesterday…black and red beans bind me right up, it seems!) I haven’t seen anything like that in a while, and I think I have the banana to thank for it. (Because, really, it was SUCH a relief! It was a gross relief, but still…) And it’s weird that my body is doing this now. Maybe I should have a weekend full of fast food and beer, and see what happens. Perhaps I’ve switched over to Bizarro World where eating veggies and fiber and chicken have completely caused my body to have a little revolt, or something. That doesn’t seem right, but I can’t explain the nastiness that I’ve been feeling over the last couple of days.

OOOOHHHHH!!!! Wait! It IS Bizarro World! Or, as more people might recognize it/understand it: it is P.M.S. Der!!! I totally forgot about that. Now wonder my body is flipping the fuck out. God, I’m glad I thought of that!

Ok, now that you’ve heard me ramble on about nothing but calories, feeling crappy, and crapping, I guess it’s time for me to shove off. Work beckons…

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Lance Armstrong should be everyone's hero, right?

Ok, I'm having trouble posting a comment to reply to some comments on the KC Star website regarding the Lance Armstrong poster that is currently being displayed on the side of the American Century building here in KC, MO. So I guess I'll just have to say what I wanna say on my own blog, dammit.

The poster bugs. Armstrong doesn't look friendly, or kind, or interested in our health (or that of our investments, as the case may be), but rather looks a bit intense and annoyed, IMO. You can go visit this link to see the story that explains the reason for the poster, as well as shows a picture of said poster on the web page.

As you can see in the story, this poster covers 8 stories of the side of the American Century building, and is not only a distraction to those driving down the street, but I have seen it noted by more than one person that it creeps them out. Yeah, it didn't make me wanna look into the campaign at all. I can see it from the parking deck I park on every day for work, and all it does is make me wanna get in my car as fast as I can and get out of range of being able to see it.

So someone named Allison Carr wrote in about how the poster bothered her, and the three responses she's received so far are as follows:

(1) "Jeez - Get over it." - Sammy (Thanks for your input Sammy...can't believe someone took the time to log in and say such a meaningful statement, but to each their own.)
(2) "Lance Armstrong is an exemplary athlete and human being who has overcome tremendous personal challenges.

American Century is a respected local corporation.

However, that doesn't change the fact that this is an 8-story high billboard." - enough (I agree with this comment wholeheartedly.)
(3) "You know, it's a shame that someone who has represented our county internationally both as an athlete and as an individual, who has gone through (and beaten) a life-threatening illness, should actually be allowed to promote awareness of his illness to push us towards a cure.

Darn him.

(obviously tongue-in-cheek... I find it ridiculous that people are offended at what Armstrong is trying to accomplish. I say, good for him; I can only hope that if in the future I end up being diagnosed with it that his awareness campaign will have done some good.)" - Jeff H

Ok, now I have something to say back to Jeff H, and so I thought I'd go ahead and say it here, just in case it gets back around to him.

Jeff, I don't think that Allison was saying anything against all the hard work and determination Lance Armstrong has exhibited with regards to his disease and/or his desire to irradicate it. She's bothered as much as loads of other people are in this city by the look on Lance's face, as well as American Century's decision to place a gawd-awful 8 story high poster on the side of their lovely building in order to push a new campaign they have that involves Lance. Let's make sure you understand WHAT that campaign is about, m-kay? Because it's NOT an "awareness campaign" for testicular cancer, as I think you think it is. I've bolded the important things that might help you understand what I mean, just in case that helps you to understand it better. (All of this info was pulled from the article in the KC Star written by Dan Margolies and Dave Helling, published on Friday, 2/10/05, FYI.) Here goes:

"Armstrong, a seven-time Tour de France winner, will serve as the very public face of American Century’s newest series of mutual funds, dubbed Livestrong Portfolios, after the Lance Armstrong Foundation’s "Live strong" exhortation to cancer patients."

(Hm. Not sure what mutual funds have to do with pushing us towards a cure for testicular cancer...maybe you can explain that to me, Jeff.)

"American Century plans to make the most of its association with Armstrong, who will star in print and television advertisements with the slogan "Put Your Lance Face On."

Mark Killen, American Century’s senior vice president of corporate and product marketing, said the "Put Your Lance Face On" campaign would serve as "a rallying cry for investors to follow Lance’s example of focus, determination and drive when making investment decisions.""

So, let's break this down, shall we? Lance Armstrong is likely getting paid a HUGE amount of cash to be involved in this campaign. It is a campaign to promote the newest mutual funds that American Century is offering to it's investors.

Admittedly, the company has said that based on the investments in the funds, they will make an annual contribution to the Lance Armstrong Foundation, so that's all well and good.

But I still don't see why the hell the poster has to be so fucking HUGE, or why people who are bothered by it, like Allison (and myself) should be attacked and seen by other members of our fair community as enemies of Lance Armstrong, his ability to overcome his disease, and apparently all that he represents for us as an American. Shouldn't we be allowed to be bothered by this ugly campaign aspect?

I say we should. And I certainly hope that American Century takes that damned poster down soon. Creeps me right the fuck out. (Hope this helps you understand where people are coming from a bit better, Jeff. You might wanna re-think comments like the one you posted before doing so in the future...)

It's a weight loss update. You can skip it, if ya wanna...

I’m finally catching up on my sleep. Thank God! I feel less tired today than I have lately, although I still woke up with a stuffy nose and a bit of a sore throat, so I don’t know what’s going on there. Usually I’m feeling normal and healthy by the time I’m done working out, which was the case today again, so I don’t know if I have a small cold, or if it’s just allergies, or what.
Losing the weight is still slow-going. I’ve upped my cardio to being 40 minutes every day, and this week, in order to make up for the sushi and drink I had on Monday, I’m working out 6 days instead of just 5. And trying to get little extra things in as well…like tonight, with the weather behaving as it has been, my plan is to go home and work in the yard a bit. It looks like shit, and I need to get a feel for how much work will need to be done in the spring to make it as weed-free and pretty as possible. I figure I can spend about an hour out there before the sun goes down, so hopefully I can get some stuff cleared up out there.

Still quite tired of the fact that I’m busting a hump and a half, and mostly getting nowhere. I’ve lost 6 pounds in the past month and a half (it’s been a pound per week, I’ve noticed), and I started measuring last week to see how many inches are starting to come off as well. Although it doesn’t feel like much, really, I know that I’ve lost a little bit of something in my boobs and on my arms. And my legs are all firmed up, so that’s cool. My calves were starting to look floppy a few months ago, and that really bothered me. I’ve always had really nice legs without really trying much, so when the calves started showing the signs of my laziness, I knew for sure it was time to kick it into gear.

I can’t believe that working out as often as I have been and eating as little food (and good for me food, at that!) hasn’t shown very big results at this point! Things used to be so easy when I was younger, and I think its total CRAP that only 10 years later, it’s as hard as it is to just drop a dress size. When I was 21, I was a size 12, pissed that my boyfriend had dumped me partially because of the way that I looked, and decided that I would show him! I went to Jenny Craig, and after just 2 weeks of walking 3 days a week and eating the J.C. food, I had lost 12 pounds. I lost another 5 or 6 over the course of the next few weeks, and then I stopped doing it, as I had gone to a size 8 (which was sort of loose on me, even), and felt that getting any skinnier was not necessary. I kept working out pretty regularly, and ate smaller amounts of food, but I didn’t freak out over the occasional candy binge or McDonald’s detour. I weighed about 132 – 135, depending on the week I weighed myself, and I was feeling pretty snazzy about it. The ex-boyfriend agreed that I looked cute, and slept with me in the back of his Jeep to reward me. Then I was unable to speak with him at all for the next two weeks, and he didn’t call me, and I heard he’d started seeing a new girl he’d met at a party, according to his mother…she was the one blocking the calls, by the way. Wouldn’t let me talk to him. That was ok, though. I went ahead and told her that he and I had had sex less than two weeks before, and totally pissed her off. Heh. =D

Anyway, so being skinny didn’t help me much there, it turned out, and although I was able to maintain the weight for about a year and a half after that, once the boyfriend died in Kansas and then mom died in Cali a year later, well, I kind of didn’t give a shit any more, I guess. I was worrying about other things besides my weight, so I started my ascension to my current weight now. People are right…it DID take me, what? 8 years to get here, so I guess I can’t expect it all to come flying off all at once just because I’m working out 5 days a week and eating less than I have in a decade. But it’s still frustrating, is all. One pound a week compared to the six I was able to achieve 10 years ago is pretty shitty. But that’s a 32-year-old metabolism for ya! It sucks. It sucks ass.

Just thought I’d give y’all an update on that stuff…I don’t really have anything else to talk about today, so I figured this was the next best thing to an actual post. No? Oh well…maybe tomorrow will bring more interesting things my way, and therefore your way as well. Good luck with that.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

No, I do NOT know any Phish songs. Jeezy creezy on a stick...

During my frustrating drive to work this morning, I came to a decision: I would like to work at the DMV for one year, and have veto power over any new drivers requesting licenses. That is my wish for today. (I only want to do it for one year because I think I could only handle the DMV for a year…anything more than that might cause me to wanna go postal.) I don’t know exactly how it would work, because I would need to evaluate every single person during an actual driving demonstration on their part, but I really wish I could do it. Seriously…


Over the weekend, I visited my neighborhood Whole Foods market. I love that place…I really do. I knew they would have the big jar of capers that I wanted to get, and they have loads of different and yummy tepanades to put onto bread or what have you, and I was wanting to serve that to the boyfriend’s parents while they were visiting on Sunday night. I looked over the non-dairy items they have for me to select from, and saw the cream cheese that I might wanna try sometime, and looked for some ricotta, but they didn’t have any. I picked up some more ice cream for both me and the boyfriend (he likes vanilla, and I like the chocolate peanut butter from Soy Delicious...), and then went to check out. I had also picked up some apples in the produce section, because the market I usually buy them from had nothing but crappy, banged up Fuji’s for me to choose from, so I decided to get some at Whole Foods instead. The only apples they had at WF were organic ones, though. This was disappointing to me because I really don’t like paying a higher price for shit just because it hasn’t been protected from bugs for my "benefit". But, oh well…it was one week’s worth of the things, and it’s nothing to get all bent out of shape over, so I grabbed 4 apples.

At the checkout, I asked the general question of whether they ever have apples that AREN’T organic. The chick that was bagging my groceries (or rather, who was organizing my groceries for bagging, but wasn’t bagging yet since she apparently forgot that I asked for plastic bags the first time she asked me…which was about 5 seconds before I asked my question) shot back a reply of, "Because you prefer your food to be covered in pesticides?"

*blink, blink.*

Ok, little weird hippy freak who apparently has the attention span of a 5-year-old, smells like patchouli, and doesn’t know what a comb/hairbrush is, I didn’t ASK you for your opinion of my eating habits, ok? I ASKED the general question of whether or not y’all sell anything OTHER than organic shit, ok? Because I’m pretty sure that, in the past, you have offered both the organic produce items as well as the covered-in-pesticides-bad-for-humans-to-consume kind. And I prefer the latter.

I didn’t say all this to her, though, because I didn’t really care. What I said to her was, "Well, they haven’t hurt me so far. Plus, what I really prefer is to NOT pay $4.50 for 4 small apples."

After the last encounter I had with "coming through!" man at the Wild Oats near my home, and now this weird elfin woman offering me her opinion of my choice of poisons in life, I’m kind of getting turned off of hitting the natural/alternative shopping scenes when it comes to picking up groceries at this point. And that sucks.

Why are the rude hippies working/shopping at my favorite stores as of late? Are they getting bad batches of bugs in their salad and fruit? Are they suppressing their irritation with the high price they pay for organic chicken breasts and smelly cheeses, and letting it all out at weird times with non-hippy types such as myself? Because I can’t sympathize, ok? It’s not ok to talk to people like you are, and you need to stop it. Fuckers.


I want Santino to get sent home tonight**. That is all. Back to work with ya…

**Dammit...didn't realize tonight was the "reunion" special. So I guess Santino won't be going tonight. Although, he might get made fun of one hell of a lot, which is almost as good. So I guess that makes up for it being a "filler" show. I HATE the filler shows! Except, of course, for the bachelor ones where they get all the stupid bitches together to complain about each other and not being picked...and I missed the one they showed on Monday, dammit, because I forgot it was on!! Which just goes to show how tired I was and how thrown off my regular schedule I was by the boyfriend's parents being in town. Dammit.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Look out for 2-door black BMW's...

I’m in a pisser of a mood this morning. I think I’m just tired, but on the way to work, I ran into one too many issues that irritated me and sent me into a little "road rage". It turned out ok for everyone involved, but in that last stretch before I pulled into my parking lot, there was definite honking, flipping off, and skidding as I pulled a right turn going on. For a split second, I wondered if I was going to slide into the people stopped at the signal, the skidding was so bad. So, yeah. Not in a good place when it comes to other vehicles so far today. I think I’ll stay away from the car and the street for, oh, about 9 hours. Then things should be ok again. (I hope.)

I think tonight should be a good catch-up night. Just me and the boyfriend, possibly some laundry getting done, definitely making a little dinner for the two of us, and I’m thinking heading to bed early will be very helpful indeed. The parents left early this morning to head back to Indiana, and while it was lovely seeing them, I find it hard to entertain guests and keep up with activities accordingly when I also have to focus on my own home and work life at the same time. It was exhausting. And the boyfriend is drained as well. So I think some down time will be well deserved.

In about 10 days, we will be heading to California to visit with my family, and to visit with a couple of the boyfriend’s family members, and to rest and relax and to think about nothing other than just having fun. The Twin will be driving us around, for the most part (yay Twin!), we get to see my nieces and nephews, and we have pretty much all of our days planned out at this point. I’m so excited about this trip that it’s hard to think about anything else at this point. But I have to.

For example, one of my bosses sent out an e-mail this morning asking people for antibiotics or penicillin they could share. I seriously thought he was kidding, as he’s kind of a funny guy a lot of the time. But I just watched the one coworker that likes to fry herself and her fake boobs a little bit too regularly at the tanning salon (the one who was pissed about her kids staying home on Martin Luther King Jr’s b-day…the one who called it "monkey day"…yeah.) pull some old antibiotics out of her purse, and give them to him. I don’t understand. Apparently, they do it all the time around here.

See, the problem is, a DOCTOR prescribes those medicines and a PHARMACIST fills the prescriptions so as to be able to monitor the situation, and make sure that everything is ok. Self-diagnosis and medicating is NOT smart, and can lead to all kinds of other health problems, especially when the tart of the office is acting as one’s pharmacist! I asked her why she even HAS the antibiotics. "Oh, I had some left over from the last time I had to take them. I never finish them off." Ok, retard, the reason why you’re given antibiotics in the first place is because you need them in order to kick whatever your body has. If you don’t finish said antibiotic cycle, then you’re likely to not get rid of what your body has. I know this is a common practice, though…I just don’t understand why. If the doctor prescribes antibiotics for 10 days, you need to take the antibiotics for 10 days. End of story.

My ass just gave birth to The Most Glorious Poo Ever, FYI. It felt marvelous…AND I had privacy in the bathroom whilst I was pooing! That puts me in a much better mood all by itself, believe it or not. I don’t know why.

Ok, I have some little piddly things to get to, and some reaming of the receptionist to do (she’s not getting our mail out the door every day like we need her to. It’s getting obnoxious…), so I’d best be on my way. Happy day all!

Monday, February 20, 2006

I keep forgetting to do this...

Here are the pics from my b-day, as well as the pics of the penis-heart card thing that the boyfriend made for me on VD. Go ahead...check 'em out!

Yep, I'm working on a holiday. And it's not fair, I tell you...

I’m addicted to Fiona Apple. I suppose there could be worse things to be addicted to, really, but I thought I’d make sure everyone knew what kind of person they were dealing with at this point. I love her, think about her allllll the time, sing her songs while I’m in the shower, at the market, and in my car (oh, and in bed before going to sleep at night), and basically want to hear her every waking minute of the day. It’s a bit of a problem, but I’m thinking I can overcome it in a couple of weeks or so with some diligence. We’ll see.

Boyfriend’s parents came into town on Saturday. We had a nice dinner at a tapas restaurant, which we all enjoyed a lot, I think, and then we decided to go to 1924 Main to hang out in their basement bar for a drink or two after dinner. (Thanks for telling us about that Alisha! It was the perfect place to hang out…) Turns out, we all only needed one drink, which was good because somehow they wound up being about $10 each (???!!!), but they were yummy, and it was a lovely place to hang out, so all in all, not a bad deal. Yesterday, we went to brunch at the Moose, which also happened to be a day when 2 other KC Hopps (the company that owns the Moose) execs decided to have brunch there, and one of them went ahead and picked up our tab for us, which was really nice. He felt he owed it to us, since "boyfriend works so hard." Yeah, I wanted to go have a word with him about just how hard boyfriend works for his goddammed company…I didn’t know if he was aware that he kept slaves, or what, so it would have just been an FYI conversation, really. But I figured that causing a scene in front of the parents and in the actual restaurant where boyfriend works might be a bad idea, so I kept it to myself.

Then the parents went off for the day doing their own thing. They came back over to my house for dinner, and then the boyfriend had to go back to work at 9:30 for a meeting at 10 (see? See what I mean? SLAVE!!!), and so his parents and I sat around and had a bit of wine and chatted. And I made the fundamental mistake of posing the question of whether they were ok with the boyfriend and I living together or not. Holy shit. See, his parents are a part of a special "community" in South Bend that is based in Catholicism, but has some much more strict and kind of weird ideals based in general Christianity. Boyfriend considers it a cult. I think they’re fine people, really…they’re very cool, they can knock back a few with the best of them, and really don’t bring up their religion (except to pray before eating) unless they’re kind of provoked. So I provoked, it seemed. And so his dad started talking, and talking, and TALKING about how a relationship can’t work between two people unless Christ is above everything else for them, and really a relationship is with 3 people and not just two since Christ is in it as well, etc, etc, etc…And boyfriend’s mom just sat there the entire time he was talking, just staring at him, not agreeing or nodding or doing anything, but just sitting quietly and listening to him spew his religious b.s. about how we won’t succeed in our relationship unless we allow Christ and God to be a part of it. He admired me for asking the question (um, thanks?), but he wanted to be sure that I understood that I would get to the point eventually where I would be disappointed with the relationship with boyfriend ultimately because I didn’t hold true to my values and morals.

Now. I don’t know where he got the idea of what my values and morals are, since they’re, you know, my values and morals, and not his. But since he knows that I do have a faith in God, and hold myself to be a relatively spiritual person, I guess he just assumed. So I listened to him, and every once in a while asked a question or two, and agreed with some of what he said, but then he started talking about how the truth can’t be ignored, and that’s what can cause a relationship to fail, and I just don’t know what the hell he was talking about. He lost me. But it was entertaining, nonetheless. And it was certainly eye-opening, and I got to see a lot of what the boyfriend had to deal with when he was growing up. I also got to know his parents better, which is important to me. I don’t really care if his father thinks that I’m compromising my morals and beliefs in order to live with his son, and I do hope to marry him some day, and if God is involved, then that’s lovely. But spirituality and the relationship a person has with God is so personal and individual, I think. I don’t mind that the boyfriend sees things the way he does. I’M important to him, and that is what matters when it comes to us. We’re able to communicate and we understand each other, and I love all that he is, really. And he does the same with me. Apparently, he has a very hard time with the fact that in his parents’ relationship, they both put God above everything else, even each other. I told him that if it works for them, then it shouldn’t matter. He’s just jaded, I think. He had a tough time with things when he was growing up, and I can’t imagine what he went through. Mental abuse and physical abuse, and by the time he was 18, he basically bolted from that house and town as fast as he could. But his parents see a change in him since he’s been with me. They’re encouraged to think that perhaps God brought us together so that I could lead him back to Christ. Which…no. That’s not my schtick. Not. at. all. If he comes to a better understanding of what Christ and God can mean to people outside of that upbringing that he had, and wants to be involved in a church or something eventually, then great. But I’m not gonna even suggest it.

I told him about all of what we talked about when he got home, and it seemed to bother him a bit. He also told me that he really loves that I can stand up for myself, and speak up when I hear the bullshit that I don’t agree with, like I did when I was talking to his dad. He wasn’t there, but I told him that I’d challenged his dad’s perception of relationships failing due to a lack of Christ. I just don’t subscribe to it. But we had kept it light and I joked to his mom about how she had told her husband to leave his soapbox at home, and it seemed he still had managed to bring along with him anyway, and we all laughed about that. It wasn’t a mean, spiteful conversation, is my point. I told the boyfriend as much, and I think he was ok with it all. But we’ll see. They’re spending their alone time together today. And then we’re going to dinner tonight with friends, and then the parents leave tomorrow to go back home. So it’ll all be said and done by then.

I have no doubt in my mind that the boyfriend and I belong together. But I also don’t think I’m immoral for choosing to invite him to live with me. I don’t think I’m compromising any of my beliefs or values when I look towards to a future with him. I find it utterly fascinating that there are people out there that think in such a manner. The boyfriend is afraid that because I had this discussion with his parents, and his mother brought me a book (it’s called The Message, and it’s basically a modern-day language interpretation of the New Testament, which I think would be interesting to read, and didn’t think it was weird at all for her to offer to me…), that now I will be sucked into their "cult" somehow. He’s very silly, though, because I’m pretty sure that I’d need to live in South Bend in order to join, and that isn’t convenient for me right now. Neither is having a life that is completely saturated in Christ and God, or spreading the Word, or telling other people that their lives will never be complete without Christ in their lives. No…just not my cup o’ tea, unfortunately. I’ll stick to my own spirituality, thanks. It makes me happy…

Anyway, interesting weekend, and I stayed up too late last night, so I feel like I have a hangover today. Bleh. Might need some caffeine, actually, so we’ll see about that around lunchtime. Gotta run, but I hope everyone has a day that’s either filled with Christ or not, or possibly something in between (which is the kind I tend to have), and goes forth and loves people for who they are anyway. Because, dammit, THAT’S the way it should be. Sheesh…

Friday, February 17, 2006

Mini M&Ms or chocolate chip?

I chose the mini M&Ms. That's right...I'm eating a COOKIE, dammit! I've been craving a BLT and fries all week, and haven't given in to the desire. So eating this cookie is not only WAY better than consuming an entire BLT and a side of fries, but it's justified by my having avoided said BLT and fries all week. So there!

Actually, I pulled out my old 6 Week Body Makeover manual and measuring tape last night, and got down to brass tacks. I've taken my "before" pictures (from the front and the side), and I've been diligently watching and noting my calories for about 3 weeks now, and it's slowly paying off. I've lost 5 pounds in that time, although I think most of it has been over the course of the past two weeks. I started out at a hefty 193, and am now at 187.5 (I round up, hence the actual loss of only 5 pounds in my mind), and can see that due diligence is getting me where I wanna go. It won't be fast, that's for sure. But I've always been a bit wary of the quick weight loss thing anyway, seeing as every time I've dropped a significant amount of pounds (10 or more) in a quick amount of time, it doesn't take long for them to creep back on to my frame. I have 30 pounds to go before I'll be absolutely comfortable in most of my favorite clothing, so I figure that by the end of summer, I should be in a stupendous place with my body. I hope.

Again, though, the tightening of my flab is undeniable at this point. The ass is tighter, and the "love-handles" aren't quite as apparent, even though my pants and skirts are still a bit tight. And being less flabby is key to my motivation.

Also? My boobs appear to be losing some of their heft. It's a small amount, but it's noticeable to me. (Oh, and I've taken the suggestion of a few people - Hunny, I believe you were one of the people to mention it - and I've started putting deodorant on under my boobs before I get dressed in the morning. I was worried that it might make a mess of my bras, but it really hasn't, and I feel so much less smelly and gross at the end of the day, thank goodness! So thank you to those of you who suggested it. I think the boyfriend did as well, and I told him about my new habit last night, and thanked him as well, so now we're all on the same page. =) Losing a bit of boob is a BIG deal to me, so I am very excited about that, and think that next week things will be even smaller, and that thought is just so exciting to me that it's hard to put it into words. I can't WAIT until another month has passed, and I will have lost an inch or two, perhaps, and I will be better at avoiding the cookies and the grease-laden breakfasts brought into the office on Fridays, and I will not crave things like BLT's or fries or turkey club sammiches drenched in mayo as badly, and I will look forward to being back in a size 14 with less chub than I've had in a long time.

And that, my friends, is what it's all about.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Ruminations and questions...

I have something rolling about in my head right now that I’m curious about. Sound off if you get what I’m talking about…or if you think I need therapy. Either way, comment, ya bastards!

Even though I’m in my most favorite relationship EVER at this point in my life, I still think of old boyfriends now and then. I wonder about things like, did the Scientologist boyfriend get married to the beautiful stick-figure he dated after me, and buy a house, and have a baby all before the age of 24? Did the quasi-boyfriend that I still liked while I was dating Scientologist boyfriend who made the HUGE mistake of not allowing me into his life like he should have all those years ago ever off himself over that decision**? Does Dickhead continue to treat women as though they are meaningless in his life, or did he find someone to match his new fabulous California lifestyle that makes him happy and excited and actually able to believe that your significant other should be your best friend as well? Is Asshole happy? Or does he still wallow in his decisions and mistakes the way he used to? There’s only one boyfriend that I don’t think about in this manner, and that’s the boyfriend that cheated on me. We blew up at each other, and he lost friends over what he did to me, and then the relationship with the girl he cheated on me with didn’t turn out so well for him in the end anyway, and we then made peace with each other after all that, so with him, it’s just not on my mind, for some reason. Every once in a while, I pass a Porsche like the one he used to drive, or an Explorer like the one we used to off-road in, and he pops into my head for a sec, but then he’s gone just as quickly again. But all the rest of them kind of float in and out, and make me wonder if it’s natural to think about someone that I haven’t seen in over a year, or 3, or 10!

Am I unusual in this regard? Is it something that only girls tend to do, or do boys also ruminate over past relationships/people they’ve cared about in their lives, and wonder how they’re doing and what their life is like now? The only person I can actually check back on is Asshole, and I don’t mind admitting that I have visited his blog lately, and he does seem to be happy, finally. Although, in an odd twist of things, except for the baby and the fact that he appears to have already proposed to his new love, he seems to be following an awfully close pattern to my most recent relationship developments. It’s nice to see. I know that may sound odd coming from someone that spewed such vitriol about the dude a little over a year ago, but while I never liked the way he treated me, I still couldn’t help but feel bad for the person that he was. And I’m always glad to see when someone’s life has turned around for them. Like Dave (a.k.a. Fucktard). He’s had a girlfriend now for about 8 months or so, and while they broke up briefly in the Fall, they got back together and everyone is betting on when he’s gonna pop the question, they seem so perfect for one another. It’s nice to see him happy, and to see that he has something to do a lot of the time besides sit around, drink, mope, and be a general asshat to the rest of the world. I’m definitely glad that he’s not being such an asshat, that’s for sure. I mean, everyone has their days now and then, but he had them all. the. time. It sucked.

I wish that all of my exes could have blogs, is the thing. So I could settle the random, minor curiosity that pops up in my head now and then. So I could see whether they’re happy, or if they need good juju sent their way, or if their evil mother who spawned them just to drive every one of their girlfriends to madness eventually has died yet, or anything, you know? (And she was evil. Man, oh man. I feel sorry for all the women out there that have mother-in-laws like her. If I ever marry my current love, I’m happy to say that his mom and I seem to get along like little sister and big sister. So that will be nice.) Having that window into the past makes way for a good deal of closure over certain matters, I think.

So, what say you? Am I alone in this? Or is this something that we all do, whether we’re in a good relationship or not? Because I can’t express enough that I love my boyfriend with all my heart, and am only grateful to the past relationships for having taught/showed me what a bad relationship was, and for making it all that much clearer and sweeter to be in one that actually works and belongs and feels good and all that jazz. Believe me, if I could have avoided all that heartache and pain for the past 11 years, then I would have! I don’t know, though…just musing out loud on this one, really. But I’d love your insight, so tell me what you think, please. It’s been too quiet around here lately…

**The quasi-boyfriend pops up every now and then in the form of a voice message on my cell phone, so I know he hasn’t offed himself yet. At least, he hadn’t as of October, I think it was, so if he doesn’t call again soon, I might start checking the obits in LA, just to be sure. And I know you’re probly thinking I’m full of myself, and that I’m an insensitive asshole talking like this, but I don’t know how else to talk about it. I loved him, he ignored me, then once I’d fallen OUT of love with him, he decided he did love me after all, but it was too late. I haven’t seen him in 9 years now, but he still expresses to me that I was the one that got away and he could kick himself (or do worse) over it. One might think that’d be a nice thing to hear…but it’s not. It got to be a bit depressing and loathsome hearing about how sad his love life was every time I talked to him, so I simply stopped talking to him. I’m hoping that he’ll allow someone else into his life eventually…someone that he actually takes the time to get to know and love. And not just another girl that he brings home from a bar and can’t remember the name of the next morning, you know? So sad…

New links for your linking pleasure...

I cleaned up my blogroll and there are now new links at the left y'all. Go check out some newness (they might be new to some, ok?) by clicking on Mona or TKC Girl or Underwater Clown Conspiracy (I swear it isn't scary at. all.)...and if anyone else wants me to add them to the blogroll, then let me know if your blog is funny and fresh and I might just do it. (Proof of funniness and freshness will be required, btw.)

Yep. I worship Satan. Wanna make something of it?

The parents will be in town this weekend. Not mine. No…my father doesn’t visit Kansas City very often. ("As soon as they figure out how to put Kansas in between California and Hawaii, I’ll visit you all the time!" Nice, eh? He doesn’t see any reason to visit Kansas City. Hm. I wonder if I stopped spending my hard-earned cash to fly home and visit HIM every now and then, maybe then he might have a reason to come here…) No, it’s the boyfriend’s parents that will be in town. I’m not sure why. Maybe because they love him, and want to make sure that he isn’t living with a Satan-worshipping witch that was just able to put on a good show when she went to visit them in South Bend in November. Maybe because they just wanted to get away, and they like hanging out with the boyfriend. Naw…I think it’s because of the making sure I’m not a freak thing.

So tonight, the plan is to go home and put away all pictures of, statues of, and alters to Satan. And to scrub my bathroom from top to bottom. And to scrub the floors. And to wash the towels and sheets. Let’s just understand that a LOT of cleaning and organizing will be happening. A LOT. Because that’s just how I am. My place is too small to accommodate grown-up guests (boyfriend’s brothers will be coming to visit in May, and they will be sleeping on my couch), so the parents will be staying at my favorite little hotel in town not too far from my place. I’m not really sure why I’m so intent on cleaning the place so well…but it does need it, I s'pose. And I didn’t wake up to workout this morning (I can feel a cold taking over – and again I say FUCK YOU MOTHER NATURE!!!), so the top-to-bottom-clean-up will be my workout for the day as well. It’s a good thing all around, I think. Plus, t.v. sucks on Thursday nights now, and the boyfriend works late so I’ll have the place to myself. I’m looking forward to it. (But I really hope that Satan won’t smite me for having to keep all of his worship stuff in a closet for 4 whole days. Being smote would seriously suck, and I don’t really need it at this point in time.)

Outside of that action, I’m basically coasting by these days. Work is busy. Homelife is sweet. Looking forward to heading to California in 2 weeks to visit the fam. I think the only thing that’s really bothering me right now is why didn’t the Cheney shooting accident get reported earlier than 24 hours after it happened? I mean, it’s so important that the citizens of this country know about these things. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I see Harry Whittington as a father/grandfather/friend to the entire nation, and I was very disappointed to hear that such a dear man to my heart was struck down in an accident like that, and they didn’t even think to call reporters prior to calling the ambulance! Cheney was such an asshat for thinking of his friend’s welfare prior to the country’s curiosity and desire for the next big scandal out of the White House. Because, I’ll tell you what, hunting accidents don’t happen every day, you know? It’s more like every other day, really, so I can’t see why Cheney didn’t see the importance of reporting such a thing immediately to the nation. It’s just bothering me sooo much, I could cry.

Oh…wait. No. What’s bothering me is the fact that I DON’T CAAARRRRE!!! Why is this such big news? Is it because the big media houses are pissed that they didn’t know about it before a little local media outlet was given the information? Is it because the media (and the nation) look for anything they CAN these days in order to make fun of the White House and its administration? (And I don’t disagree with them there, really…this administration has been disappointing to say the least.) Because WTF, people? It’s still the primary news story on ABC every morning, for some reason, and I’m tired of it. The news is supposed to keep me informed, and I’m about as informed as I wanna be when it comes to the fact that Dick Cheney did something he feels terrible about to an old friend of his that I don’t know and don’t give a flying shit about (I mean, obviously I hope he recovers quickly and well, so that he can return to his normal life of slowly wasting away as a lawyer and supporter of politics), and that something that he happened to do is something that happens to people every fucking day (oh, I’m sorry…every OTHER fucking day), and it really just doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. CAN WE MOVE ON??? Or are we gonna find some way to blame the fact that troops are still stuck in Iraq, and were sent there in the first place for no good reason, on this incident alone? Because CHRIST!! Enough already!

And that’s all I have to say about that. This is not a political blog. I just wish that the news would let up, and start reporting on more important things like the weather, or the Olympics, or the amount of dust that gathers on a wood floor over the course of 1 month if left untreated. Seriously. More interesting to me than Cheney and his injured buddy. Dust. I swear.

Ok, I gotta go. The dust is collecting on my job as I type this, I can feel it.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Um, Momma N., do me a fave and make up your *BLEEPING* mind!!

Yesterday, it was in the upper 60's outside. I felt like an idiot walking down the Plaza in my coat, because I didn't realize it was that warm. (To be honest, I didn't believe the weathermen who said it would be that warm...)

Today, it's in the upper 30's, I think. The wind is bitter, and a bit nasty, and seems to be ushering in some icky weather for us over the next couple o' days.

I'm done with it. I'd like to hibernate until March, please. Preferably in a sand cave (a.k.a. in a room with an ocean view) in Puerto Rico. That'd be ideal, thanks...

If I can't have that, then how about if we have one consistent, fucking weather pattern for the rest of the goddammed season, huh? This up and down, warm and then cold bullshit fucks with my insides and makes things go phlegmy. So UP YOURS, Momma Nature! Since you're not me real mom, I can say shit like that to you, you fucktwat.

(Don't worry...I'll love you again in April. I swear.


My V.D., the tricks, the risotto, and my heart-shaped ass...

I kind of played a trick on the boyfriend last night. For fun. Because I’m evil like that…
So I finally got out of work at about 5:30, and headed home to relax, make dinner for the boyfriend and I, watch some t.v., and enjoy the evening the way a couple should when it comes to V.D. My boyfriend had set up his homemade card to greet me as I walked in the door. He knows how I hate heart-shaped jewelry, so he made his card (out of red construction paper, no less) in the shape of – you guessed it – a heart! But on the inside, it had a "pop-up" penis that he’d created. And on the penis it said, "Since I know how u love hearts, I thought I’d give you a cock instead!" Under the penis – and yes, I had to lift the paper penis to read this - it said, "I love you with all my heart." But it was kind of hidden, so he’d drawn these big arrows to point it out, and they kind of surrounded the penis, and pointed towards its tip, and the whole thing was just so damned funny, I couldn’t stand it! I’ll take some pictures later, and post them on my Yahoo, so you can see what I mean, kay?

I gave the boyfriend the cologne I’d bought for him from Vic’s Secret (he likes that Very Sexy for Him stuff, and I didn’t mind it either, so I got him a little bottle…), and he was all happy and huggy and shit, and then I told him that I had another present for him, but I wanted to give it to him later. So he gets this look on his face, and starts asking what it is, and probably thinks I’m planning to give him lube or wear cute lingerie or something, but I wasn’t gonna give it away. I told him I would give it to him later, and that was that.

Then I settled in to make dinner. My risotto turned out YUMMY, and although it still had a bit of a bite to it (I ran out of chicken stock, so I couldn’t cook it for another 5 minutes without burning it…plus, eating Italian food al dente is really what it’s all about, eh?), it was still absolutely fabulous. Really. So, sooo good. And relatively easy, too! Lots of stirring involved, but it goes by quickly, I found. Make some yourself this weekend and see what I mean. I used a Mario Batali recipe (found here on Food Network's website) for red wine risotto…I’ll put it at the bottom of this post for those that are interested. Be careful with the portions, though. Half a cup of the cooked stuff (the way I made it) probably has about 300 calories, due to the butter and the starch involved. Oh, and I made it without cheese, of course, and a little bit less butter than it called for (about 3 tablespoons instead of 4) and it tasted fabulous all the same. I did add a bit of salt to compensate for the missing parmesan cheese. Maybe a quarter of a teaspoon worth…not much.

Anyway, the steaks were lovely, and the veggies turned out perfect, and overall, dinner was a success. We watched t.v. for a bit, then the boyfriend went to shower, and after that was all done, I told him it was time for his other gift. This time he asked right out, "Is it lube?" No, I told him. It’s not lube, dammit. So I go in the bedroom and I light candles, and I take off the sweater I’d been wearing to reveal my cute new top that I’d bought (which, of course, my boobs are a bit too heavy for, but what’re ya gonna do, right? I was wearing it for about 10 minutes, tops…), and he walked in the room all surprised. So I climb on the bed and tell him to open the top drawer to my bureau. So he did, and he finds the present I told him about. It was a copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Because that’s the next series of books he wants to read when he’s done with the Harry Potter bullshit. Of course, he loves it, and then he tackles me as he laughs about my surprise present, and then I tell him that isn’t all. I pulled down my pajama pants to reveal my new cute underwear that has a heart on the butt, and that set us off again, and it was just a funny night. Funny and fun.

So it was a good V.D. overall. I think the boyfriend was able to relax and enjoy his evening, we slept well after the fun was all said and done, and I am in a wonderful mood so far today. (I say "so far" because it doesn’t take much to push me the other direction…my computer was trying to do terrible things to me yesterday, and if it starts it again today, I’m doing a Hammer dance on its ass.) So go now, and remember to make the risotto this weekend. It’s yummy. Seriously yummy.

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, cut into 1/4-inch dice
2 cups Arborio rice
1/2 cup red wine
3 1/2 cups chicken stock, hot
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for sprinkling

In a 12 to 14-inch skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until softened and translucent but not browned, 8 to 10 minutes. Once the onions are translucent add the rice and stir with a wooden spoon until toasted and opaque, 3 to 4 minutes.

Add the wine to the toasting rice, and then add a 4 to 6-ounce ladle of stock and cook, stirring, until it is absorbed. Continue adding the stock a ladle at a time, waiting until the liquid is absorbed before adding more. Cook until the rice is tender and creamy and yet still a little al dente, about 15 minutes. Stir in the butter and cheese until well mixed. Portion risotto into 4 warmed serving plates, serving with extra cheese.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

My Non-Valentine's Day Story

Recently, my boyfriend was working on some new items to add to the menu at the Moose. He was trying to come up with some new appetizers, a couple of new entrees…that sort of thing. He’s really rather creative when it comes to food, but he just wanted to hear what other folks had in mind for items they wanted. Unfortunately, he’s dead-set against allowing tacos or a BLT onto the menu, so I’m ass out, it seems. Other people came up with ideas like quesadillas, potato skins, fried mushrooms, and crab cakes for the appetizers. We kind of came up with a list of new entrees on our own, though, and they’re gonna be gooood. (Except there isn’t a single taco among them, dammit…)

So one of the new appetizers he decided was doable and that he wants to add to the menu is the crab cake idea. Plenty of people suggested it, it’s definitely easy to pull off kitchen-wise, and he thinks it’ll be a popular item, sales-wise. But neither of us are crab cake people. I can’t order them, usually, as they generally involve some form of dairy in them (why do people need to put cheese into them, huh? Isn’t egg a good enough binder, dammit??), and so I tend to opt for things like calamari or something when it comes to appetizers when I’m out and about. This left us wondering what kind of sauce might be good for with the crab cakes. I wouldn’t have the first clue. So I picked up the phone and called the crab cake king of my family – my big brother. I asked him what kind of sauce does he prefer with his crab cakes when he orders them? Something creamy and spicy, he said. Good…so a mayo-based sauce with something like chipotle spice in it? Yes…that would be good, he told me. I tried to broach the subject of shrimp with him, but he said he wasn’t friends with shrimp right now, so we left it at that. I swear I told him that the boyfriend and I were working on the boyfriend’s ideas for new menu items at the restaurant, but that might’ve gone in one ear and out the other for the big brother, it seems. Keep in mind, this all happened about a month ago, maybe. Possibly less, but not much.

So the Twin told me the other day that she had been hanging out with big brother the other night. He was all worked up about something, and it took him a while to spill it. "They’re gonna get married, you know…" he told her. The Twin finally got the story out of him, and he told her about the time I called looking for help with the crab cake sauce issue. He thought we were planning menu items for our wedding! Which we were keeping a secret, by the way. Because that’s what I’d do if I were going to get married. Yeah, I’d keep it a fucking secret. Sshhh! Don’t want anyone to find out that the old spinster daughter that everyone thought was a lesbian due to her succession of failed relationships is getting married! No, no…I haven’t been looking forward to wearing a big, poofy dress, having a ginormous, lavish party, and getting loads of presents for the past, oh I don’t know, DECADE or so, or anything! Naw…I wanna elope. And have a small party with friends when we get back, at which we will be exclusively serving crab cakes with a spicy creamy sauce. And possibly some shrimp.

For the record, the boyfriend and I are not planning a secret wedding. We aren’t engaged, and won’t be for a good long while, I’m sure. And when I get engaged, BOY, will people know about it! I’m not good with secrets, anyway, and that’s really the last thing I’d wanna keep under my hat. Because I loooove my boyfriend, and I looooove my family, and I look forward to bringing it all together some day, possibly. But not yet! Nope…we still have some time before anything like that will happen. In the mean time, we’ll have to settle for having crab cakes off the menu at the Moose when they come out in the spring, and I will continue to fight for the right for tacos on the menu (at least during football season, dammit!), and just live in peace with the most vunderbar man I’ve ever known. (I’m making him steak and risotto for his Valentine’s dinner, by the way. Because I kick ass like that.) (Please don’t let me burn the steak, please don’t let me burn the steak, please don’t let me burn the steak…)

So I hope you enjoyed the little non-Valentine’s Day story, everyone. (And if the big brother reads this, please know that I’m not making fun of you…I thought the story was very funny, as did the boyfriend, and so we appreciated that a great deal. I can see where you might’ve been confused about my crab cake questions, for sure. Crab cakes are, after all, a very popular pre-reception menu item. I think. I’m not sure, really. But more people SHOULD serve them at their cocktail parties prior to the reception! It’s a damn shame when they don’t. And if we ever DO get married, we’ll be sure to put them on the list of appetizers just for you man. WOO!) Ok…time to get to work. And to go pee – AGAIN. Dammit, it’s like the 18th time today that I’ve gone. WTF is with that?

Monday, February 13, 2006

Why is teppanyaki such a phenomenon in Kansas City? Teppan restaurants that aren’t succeeding all that well in other parts of the country? Yeah, just come and open a restaurant in KC, and you’ll flourish! (FYI, for those that aren’t aware, teppanyaki is where the tables surround the cooking area, and the food you order is cooked right in front of you on a flat-top grill. It’s kind of entertaining, and the food turns out really yummy, I’ve found, so I’ve always loved it!) On Friday night, I invited a group of friends to join my boyfriend and I at dinner to celebrate my birthday. I love, love, LOVE Japanese food, but sushi isn’t an unusual thing for us to do, and besides, it can get kind of pricey if you want to eat enough to get full. I haven’t been to a teppan restaurant in a long time, so my plan was to make reservations at a popular place in town called Gojo. I haven’t eaten there for years, so I hadn’t the first clue that it would be impossible to make a reservation for 8 people on Friday when I called them on Thursday. But it was. They had space for us at 5 p.m. or 10 p.m. And, pretty obviously, neither of those times were good for me.

So I called another place…it’s across the street from my office, and my coworkers told me it was a good place to go. I’d never been, but it’s been there for as long as I can remember, so I figured it couldn’t be bad. And it’s not that it was bad, per se. Not if you like really loud, rather smoky environments, and don’t mind feeling a bit rushed by the employees to get the fuck out so they can seat the next group waiting to eat. Now, I’ve been to many teppan restaurants before, but I guess I’ve been spoiled by less smashing around of the spatulas against the cook top and salt shakers, and less people in there all at once. The hoods were on to filter out the steam and smoke, but this particular restaurant is upstairs, and I think that somehow caused the steam and smoke to not all filter very well, so it was a bit smokier than I’m familiar with.

The food was good though. I had calamari and chicken, and it was perfectly cooked. Plus, I was there with friends that I love hanging out with, and that made it all worth while really. I wish that we could’ve heard each other better while we chatted, but now we know…that’s NOT the place to go for a birthday dinner, or anything like that. Hell, it’s just not a place I’d go back to, period! Just too damned noisy. Give me dollar sushi on Monday nights in a nice, quiet little restaurant, and I’m a happy girl.

Anyway, overall, the weekend was very good. I’m kind of glad to be back in hermit mode now that the sports season has kind of mellowed for a bit. It’s helping me to stay away from the bars, and to keep my drinking to a minimum. I missed my hermitdome, actually. There’s something about being able to hang out by yourself for a good amount of time all in one block, and still not drive yourself nuts. Some people take baths when they hang out in their hermit world. Some people order pizza and settle in for a night of movie-watching. Me? I like to clean. I pick a room and I clean it. Or I vacuum the whole house. Or I do laundry. I love looking back at my evening/day alone and seeing some sort of product from all that time spent. Makes me feels good.

Ok, my breath is heinous, and I think it’s due to the small amount of food I’ve had today. I’m off to grab a bite and to find a mint somewhere. Bah!

Friday, February 10, 2006

Is it just me?

This morning, I was walking past the window of the women's clothing store that's downstairs from our office, and I noticed that even the mannequins look skinnier. Am I wrong? Has anyone else noticed this? Or are the mannequins mocking me and me alone?

My clothes aren't getting looser. I'm tired of this. Tired, tired, tired. 30 minutes of exercise 4 days a week, 60 minutes on Saturdays, and down to 1400 calories a day (after going to 1500 for the past week and a half, mind you...) - you'd think I'd be seeing SOME sort of results! Yes, I had more than 1400 calories on Tuesday (I had 1880, thanks to the half a bottle of wine, for the record), but that was one day...ONE DAY, DAMMIT!!! Why is this so fucking hard, huh?

But I ain't gonna stop. Hell no. My boyfriend has been commenting on how tight my ass feels lately. That's worth it all by itself, I think...

Ok, not really. But it's still nice of him. :)

Sorry about all the weight talk lately. It's a big part of what's going on with me, though, so hopefully I'm making it somewhat entertaining by remaining fat and icky on a consistent basis.

Happy Friday! WOO! Weekend time!!!!

Thursday, February 09, 2006

I've been fortunate to be about 99% craving-free for the past week and a half. While I kind of wanted a pizza on Friday and Saturday, it wasn't bad enough to justify the expense, and I really didn't wanna waste the calories on Pizza Hut. I wanted buffalo wings and ranch dressing on Saturday pretty badly, but I solved that crisis by going out and buying supplies for a lighter, homemade version that seemed to do the trick.

But today, I'm craving badness! I want a BIG OL' turkey club sandwich with loads of bacon and mayo and fries on the side, please. I went so far as to pull out the menu from the restaurant across the street that has a similar sammich to what I wanted for a very reasonable price. I was drooling, I noticed. Yep, that usually means the craving has the best of me.

I was also very hungry by the time I pulled the menu out of the drawer. And I couldn't find any calorie count online for Texas Toast, which is what the sammich I wanted was served on, and how many calories are in the fries they serve there? I don't know. So I put the menu away, I went down the hall, and I heated up the cup of chili and 1/2 cup of rice I brought for my lunch today, and I ate that like the good girl that I am.

I tried to satisfy the craving for badness by feeding it some Diet Coke and a small baggie of Cheese Nips from the snack drawer. (Cheese Nips SUCK, by the way...it's Cheez Its or nothin' from now on, dammit.) Seems to have helped a little. The Cheese Nips only have 170 cals and 7 grams of fat, so that's considerably better than the mayo/bacon/fry catastrophe I was contemplating just 2 short hours ago, but still...I want me some badness, dammit!

This is hard. Very hard.

Ho hum...

For my birthday, I made a dinner (and the sauce I made went horribly wrong! But it still tasted ok, so that was nice...), put together the new cabinet that I ordered from Crate & Barrel a couple of weeks ago which just arrived yesterday which was perfect as it was my birthday and ohmygod I love it!, and then moved some things around to accomodate the new piece of furniture, as it was replacing a set of "shelves" that were meant to be temporary when I bought them 2 years ago to store certain things in my kitchen. Boyfriend and I went to bed at around 11:30, or so, and I got my birthday whammy just as I had hoped I would, and I was asleep by 12:15 I believe.

I had planned on sleeping in this morning. Loads of the people I work with are at a seminar today, so it was supposed to be pretty quiet much of the day, which makes it a perfect day to follow up a late night of celebrating, IMO. But my alarm was all wonky this morning, and instead of waking me up at 7 a.m. like I asked it to, it went off earlier than that, it seems. I snoozed the first time, but then I got up after that snooze alarm went off, and went in and got dressed in my workout clothes, and then headed into the bathroom for a pee and to put in my contacts. And that's when I saw that it was only 6:45. Perfect. So why did my alarm go off at 6:30? I dunno. Weird shit has been happening around the house lately. Maybe someone is trying to communicate with me right now. I really wish they'd stay the hell away from my alarm clock, dammit.

Anyway, it was a lovely birthday, thank you ALL for the birthday wishes, and I hope to continue the celebration accordingly for the next week or so. Boyfriend brough me home a great big bouquet of roses and gerber daisies (my fave!) as well as a gift certificate for a pedicure for a salon that I haven't visited yet because it's too damned expensive. He's just the sweetest! He even made me an appointment for the pedicure! Unfortunately, I have a hair appointment that starts about a half hour before he booked my pedicure on the same day at a different salon, so I'm hoping they have time for me a bit earlier in the day. Pampering yourself for your birthday should ALWAYS be a must-do activity, I think. Nothing better than feeling as pretty as possible as you recognize the fact that you're one year older. ;)

Dammit...my foot fell asleep. I HATE it when that happens!

I must be off. Loads of work to do, and I wanna be out of here by 6 tonight, so I can maybe go get a beer at the Moose tonight to celebrate my b-day some more. Woo!

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

It's my birthday, dammit...

Ok, first of all, this Britney Spears thing where she was driving with her baby in her fucking lap? WTF? Can she BE any more white trash? Seriously…you can only blame so much idiocy on the paparazzi, I think, and Britney goes too far with this one. If you want to protect your baby, the best thing to do is to put him in his car seat. You empty headed freak.

Went out to dinner last night to celebrate my birthday (which is today…but last night was better for the boyfriend dinner-wise, since he has to work until about 6:30 tonight…), and had WAY too much to eat, but it was worth it. And it’s funny how those things add up, really. Let’s see…I had 2 pieces of bread dipped in some balsamic and a bit of olive oil, and then we had mussels in a garlic butter sauce for an appetizer (I had about 6 oz of those…boyfriend was hungry and ate a lot of them very fast…), and then I ate half of my Caesar salad that came with my dinner (I was shocked that I could stop at half…SHOCKED, I tell you!), and I had grilled salmon with zucchini and tomatoes for my dinner, but I was only able to eat about 3 oz of the salmon by the time it came, since I’d already had a little bit of everything else…but we went all out and got a bottle of Chianti too, and that’s what pushed me way over my calorie limit for the day. Oh well! I can play catch up the rest of the week, I figure. No big deal. =)

But I have decided to try to cut the calories a bit more than I had been. I’m pleased with the fact that I’ve lost 3.5 pounds since I started counting them really closely, but I want more. So I’m going to 1400 instead of 1500 to see if that does anything. We’ll see…

Ok, back to this Britney thing, because it’s still bugging me…I don’t even know what people are thinking when they allow their DOGS to ride in their lap while they drive their cars. And I know that when we were all babies (i.e. the 30-somethings and older that read this blog…), car seats were barely invented, and even if they were in cars, it was probably safer for the mom to hold the baby back then. But not while they were driving the fucking car!!!! I know the Starbucks that Britney was at…I used to go to that Starbucks. I had a car accident in front of it once, even. The paparazzi don’t just hang out there waiting for Britney to come along, ok? They don’t hang out at the supermarket down the street from there, or at the Shell station across the street from there, or at the Blockbuster nearby, either. So I think she’s full of shit on that call. And has anyone seen the picture of her that was snapped? Yeah, she looks downright jovial and peaceful as she drives with the baby in her lap. She doesn’t look mad, or like she just rushed to get away from the throngs of photographers she says were putting her child in harm’s way. Nope…she looks like she hasn’t the first clue that someone is documenting her stupidity. And the fact that she has the body guard with her in the passenger seat? Um, ok, why is that guy employed if not to protect her and her baby while she takes the time to hook the baby into the car seat before she drives somewhere with him in the car? What? The? FUCK?

I have to get to work now, but I’m glad I could get that off my chest. Lord knows I don’t need any extra bulk on my frame right now…

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Rant Time!! IT'S RANT TIME!!!!

- 57 bus, you are the bane of my existence. Well, at least right before 8 a.m. as I travel down Wornall Road on my way to work every day, you are. When you stop at 55th and Wornall to let the little old guy with the gray beard on the bus (or you wait a second for him if he isn’t there…), I want to get out of my car, climb on top of you, and stomp on you a lot. Pisser of a bus! God bless the Navigator that was between you and me this morning for turning right on 57th Street. This gave me the freedom to do what I’ve been longing to do for a long time now…I was able to go around you in the left hand turn lane (I know! I know! I’m bad…), and continue on my path to work without being delayed for another 2 minutes, like I usually am if I stay behind you. So FUCK YOU 57 BUS! I got the better of your ass this morning, fucker! Mwahahahahahahahaha!!!

- On Saturday night, I climbed into bed, and looked with disgust at my bedside table. I have several books piled there that I have been looking forward to reading for quite a while. They were all topped by the book I was currently reading, which was keeping me from being able to move on to the others in a swift manner, like I prefer to do.

Madame Bovary, I couldn’t care LESS about your trite, stupid, BORING-ASS existence! (Fictional though it may be…) I don’t understand what was so "scandalous" about you when Flaubert managed to get you published back in 1857, and I certainly don’t find you scandalous now. I’m so grateful I didn’t have to read you in college, I could cry. You’re whiny and annoying and depressing and GAH!!! I don’t like you one bit. Why did you marry the old Charles dude, huh? And how could you not see Rodolphe for the asshole that he was? Oh…wait. Maybe it’s because YOU’RE RETARDED?? That has to be it.

Anyway, you won’t be holding me back from the books I actually look forward to reading any more, bitch. I canned your ass when I only had about 85 pages left to go, because I DON’T CARE ANYMORE!!! HA! How do you like THEM apples, eh? Fuckin’ A…

- I go grocery shopping about once or twice a week, depending on the amount of money I have and my need for groceries, of course. I frequently visit one of 3 different supermarkets, and have lately noticed that a general malaise has come over most all of the other patrons that visit these same supermarkets. Carts being left in the middle of aisles as they go off looking for items is a frequent occurrence. Blocking large sections of shelves while chatting with people they’ve run into, and allowing their children to run amuck is another. And I ran into an entirely new breed of asshat one day a couple of weeks ago when I needed some apples. This woman was bagging about 20 – 30 apples, it seemed, which was absolutely ridiculous, and shouldn’t be allowed. It shouldn’t be allowed because (a) she was in front of those apples for at least 7 minutes picking and choosing over the apples in a somewhat careful manner, and (b) she was picking through all the Fuji’s, and those are the only kinds of apples I eat. I had to circle the produce department at least 5 times before she finally moved on, and I think she only did that because I abandoned the circling at one point, and just decided to stand there next to her and wait for her to move her ass out of the way. I was really quite annoyed.

On another day not so long ago, I was in search of some frozen Asian items to satisfy my sort of sudden desire for spring rolls and something dumpling-like. (I say "sort of sudden" because, on average, I would prefer Asian food to any other food I eat, so it’s not all that unusual for me to desire something spring roll and dumpling-like each day. But every once in a while I don’t crave Asian food. Those are the days I crave Mexican food.) I was unable to find any kind of frozen Asian yumminess at the local Price Chopper (where they seem to think that people only want frozen pizzas, Lean Cuisines, and ice cream…) so I headed off to Wild Oats when I was done with the Price Chopper randomness. While I was perusing the frozen cases for the appropriate Asian snack, I felt a woman brush by me from behind, which I felt was a bit unnecessary given the space we had, but whatev. I moved on. About 5 seconds later, though, I heard someone say, "Coming through!" and turned just in time to see a very tall man with a nappy, long, gray beard barreling toward me with his cart. I pressed myself up against the cooler I was in front of in time to avoid having any skin removed from my ass by this guy’s cart as he rolled past me, and then I stared at him as he stopped on the other side of me and chatted with the chick that had brushed past me a few seconds before. He was oblivious, which wasn’t a major shock, but I was just amazed! "Coming through"??? What have we come to where we yell out warnings rather than offering a simple, "pardon me" or "excuse me" as we attempt to pass people in the market with our carts/baskets? I understand that the aisles in Wild Oats aren’t exactly standard size, and this one in particular had items stacked in the center of it which they were trying to sell, and that made the aisle even more narrow, but you’d THINK that’d make this guy a bit more cautious, no? Apparently not. And it was despicable behavior. Coming through, my ass. Fucking hippy bastard…

So those are my rants for the day. Well, besides the fact that I’ve actually been building those rants up for a couple of weeks now, so really they’re my rants for the month, probly. Take away whatever lesson you can from them, and go forth and be a better person for it. Congratulations on your personal growth.

Monday, February 06, 2006

WTF, Mate?

My ovaries (or at least the area where they're located) hurt. WTF?

Somehow, my lunch blossomed into eating up most of the calories I had left for the day. (So now I can eat a whole 200 calorie dinner. Fabulous.) See, I brought chicken and potatoes from home, and then went and got a Wendy's side caesar to supplement both the lack of veggies as well as to give me the additional calories I will need to get through the afternoon without dying at my desk. I thought I was staying below 550 cals, and instead, I ate 660. (Which is clear now, because I have that pretty damned full feeling that I haven't had for quite some time.) I think I forgot to calculate the dressing I brought to go with my chicken (they were buffalo chicken tenders that I made on Saturday...yummy!) when I was working out my totals earlier this morning. Oops! Oh well! Cereal for dinner it is!

I also had a Diet Coke this morning, as I could feel a headache coming on from lack of caffeine (the last time I had any was last Thursday...half a can), and instead of stopping drinking it once the headache was gone, I drank the whole thing. Dammit. Why does it happen that I can go the entire fucking weekend without a headache, but the moment I need to go to work and be productive, I suddenly become a walking pain-in-the-head? WTF????

So yeah, I'm a big WTF right now.

Ooh! But the boyfriend has set up our new TiVo at home (which he bought for us over the weekend as a Valentine's present for the both of us, how sweet is that?) so I can't wait to see how things are going when I get home tonight!

It's back to being cold in Kansas City again. Just in time for my birthday. Lovely. At least it's not supposed to snow or anything. At least it's not supposed to snow much over the next few days. I think we're expecting what they call "wintery precip" either tonight or tomorrow night, so we'll see if that manifests as they expect it to. These days, I don't hold my breath when it comes to what the weather people tell us on the news. They've been really, really wrong a good amount of the time when it comes to precipitation in particular, so I ignore that shit.

Ok, work has suddenly picked up a good amount, so I'd best run. Bah!

Funny, funny guy!

The boyfriend made a comment on Friday night about wanting 7 children. I told him the maximum, if any, would be 2. And he'd be taking care of them, so he'd better start saving up now, because my job won't be enough to support 4 people, that's for damned sure.

I got him back, though. I was looking at Tiffany & Co rings on Friday (or was it Thursday? I can't remember...), and found my dream ring. It's really pretty, and sort of encrusted in diamonds, and it's made of platinum. Yeah, it's $12,000. So I told him on Saturday that I found the ring on the website, and I love it a lot!

Hopefully, that'll teach him to joke about wanting to have 7 kids. I'm 32, dammit! I can't have 7 goddammed kids!! Sheesh.

He also mentioned last night that he feels like I'm "picking on" him a bit lately. I told him that if we aren't able to communicate our concerns and issues with each other, then we aren't a healthy couple in my opinion. And while I'm all about the even-stevenness of relationship give and take, it's not my fault that I'm perfect, and that he has very few things, if any, that he can pick on me about. I felt kind of bad this morning, though. So I apologized for picking on him, saying, "You're just such a boy, though!" To which he replied, "Yeah, and you're SUCH a girl!" I had to explain to him, yet again, that girls are better than boys, so he should just get used to this sort of thing, if he isn't already. Part of my "girliness" is my desire for things to be a certain way (i.e. rinsing the dishes really well before putting them in the dishwasher, or being careful to not let the tin foil covered in chicken "juice" drip all over the outside of the trashbag, or cleaning up all the water on the bathroom floor after a shower is over and done with...), and I guess that's what he was bagging on. I don't know, though, for sure...as being a girl, I also have the amazing ability to block out information that isn't useful or relevant when a boy is talking sometimes. It's a trait that comes in handy now and then...

Anyway, hopefully he knows that there are things that I love about him that completely outweigh all of his boy issues. The fact that this morning, I was in the shower and all I had to do was call his name, and he immediately came to see what I needed. Or that he was able to pick up on my annoyed tone last night when he was chatting online with his hypochondriac ex-girlfriend that lives in Tennessee, or some such place, and I wanted to hang out with him so I wanted him to finish it up. He has all day today and tomorrow to fuck around and have his alone time. So I appreciate it a great deal when he realizes what I mean when I say, "Sooo...she's all right, then?" three times in the course of 2 minutes, and finishes up in order to come and join me on the couch for a cuddle. He's a darling of a boyfriend, really, so I do feel pretty bad about "picking" on him, as he calls it. But then again, he has been changing his socks when he gets home from work, and he showered this morning, which was quite a lovely surprise, and on Friday and Saturday, he was even voluntarily talking about his teeth issues. And it was good stuff he was saying. And I was so pleased, I almost BURST!

I love my boyfriend, with all my heart. (But I still think girls are better than boys, dammit...)

Friday, February 03, 2006

A couple of weird things...

- When I take the Tylenol Sinus - Severe Congestion medication I have for the sinus headaches I get, my choocha (a.k.a. my taco, for those of you unfamiliar with the term "choocha") smells like acetaminophen for a few hours afterwards. What does acetaminophen smell like when it's being emitted by the chooch? Well, it's hard to describe. But it's not good. Nope...not good at all. Kind of like band-aids and pickles and...well, do you need any better description than that? OH! And when I have my P and have to replace feminine products now and again while this lovely scent is being put forth from my loins, my life is complete, lemme tell ya. Last night, every time I had to pee (and the one time I needed to change the fem. product), it was quite a treat. Yep...a treat indeed.

- Since I have been at my new job, I have been presented with no less than 3 other job possibilities. This kind of pisses me off, as I spent the entirety of November roaming around wondering if I would ever be useful to anyone ever again, and cried a whole lot because I felt so cruddy about it. I gained at least 8 pounds in November, thankyouverymuch. Anyway, the third one came today, in the form of my old temp company calling me to find out if I would be interested in working for the company I worked for at the end of the summer for 2 months. They have an accounting position open, of all things. Now, I learned MS Access specifically so I could go and earn $12 goddam.50 an hour at that company, and I have NO accounting experience at all outside of the basic accounting shit that an admin must do in their day-to-day life, and while I liked it there enough, I wouldn't be able to do that shit full time. Well, depending on the salary they wanted to pay me, that is. But since I have found The Most Perfect Job Ever at The Most Fun Company Ever, I feel quite lucky that these offers are happening when they are. It must be for a reason, I figure.

- I have to express my utter amazement at one thing: my boyfriend can go for days without showering, and he doesn't smell bad. It's so weird!!! He hasn't showered since last Saturday (for those of you that're counting, that'd be 6 days now without a shower), and while 2 of the days since then have been spent pretty much loafing on the sofa reading his goddammed Harry Potter nonsense, 4 of the days have been spent in a kitchen, cooking and prepping and yelling and stressing about shit.

If I went for 6 days without a shower, and just came to my pretty sedentary, motionless job day in and day out, I would smell like a horse at the end of it all. A horse that had travelled far and wide while carrying a 250 pound load on it's back through a hot and steamy landscape, stopping now and again to enjoy a roll in some dirt, or perhaps some shit on the side of the road.

So how does he do it, I wonder? (The better question of WHY does he do it has been asked many times over, and stubborn ass that he is, I think he goes for long periods of time between showers now just because I bug him about it...which is sooooo not endearing of him, lemme say.) I'm not sure if he has special sweat glands that allow him to actually freshen as he sweats, or what. But Lord KNOWS he must be sweating, and I just don't understand how that works, exactly. I mean, his feet smell like DEATH at the end of the day. I escaped to the bedroom earlier than usual one night last week, they were smelling so icky. But in the morning, it's like some sort of fairy has come during the night and sprinkled him with clean-up dust, or something, because the stench is gone, and he doesn't smell.

Very. Confusing.

Also, for those of you that might wonder, the hole in his tooth is still there, he's never gotten it fixed, and it is eating the boyfriend alive I just know it. I worry about it, but I try not to too much because it's his mouth and not mine. All I can do is ask him to please try to make his breath smell prettier, and that's that. I just don't understand someone completely disregarding their health in such a way, is the thing! I understand fear. I understand being willing to put up with some pain. But it's gone on too long, and it HAS to stop at some point, right? I don't know. I'm afraid that if I assert myself into the issue much more than I have, it'll literally chase him away, and that's not what I want, so I leave it alone much of the time. But I care about him, and want him to be happy and healthy, and it's hard for me to deal with, and I've been wanting to say this all for a long time but I've kept it inside because I don't want to violate the boyfriend's privacy (some of our friends read this blog), but I can't keep it in any longer! I almost think an intervention is necessary, or something! I can't do this alone, you know? Maybe if I talk to his mom when she's in town in a couple of weeks. God, I wonder if she can help me with this. She must be concerned too, right? That might be the best course of action...ok...glad I talked it out.

Man! I didn't know that was all in me wanting to come out! Sorry for the spewage. Gotta get back to work now, of course...Jeezy!

SuperBowl, schmooperbowl. Ooh! They should call it THAT instead! How cute...

Ok. The money is gone. I think Lyn jinxed it. :P (You owe me $1.5 million now, Lyn. Small bills, please. I hate having to break $100’s.) Naw…really, the bank figured it all out, just as Lyn warned would happen. So we’re poor again. Aahhh…feels good. Just the way it should be.

I couldn’t stand it…after a week of watching calories veeerrryyy closely, and managing to stay below 1500 for 3 days (I had 1622 yesterday…oops!), I weighed myself this morning. And I’m down 3 pounds since the last time I weighed myself (which was last Wednesday - the 25th), thank God. I was gonna start performing mini-liposuction treatments using my vacuum at home if weight didn’t start coming off soon! But it seems that eating less was what was needed, which makes total sense. I’ve figured out that I was probably going well above the 1800 calories/day I thought I was eating for the past few weeks - watching calories closely like this has shown me just how wrong I had to have been. And it’s getting easier as the week goes on, too. I have a 300 calorie lunch today which will leave me room for 2 beers tonight, which will be nice. I’ve earned it. I’ve only had one glass of wine all week, dammit!

Who’s looking forward to the SuperBowl? I don’t give a flying shit about it, so there! As far as I’m concerned, either team could win and it’d be fine. I’ve already lost the office pool, and after the whole USC vs. Texas debacle, I’ve sworn off betting on sports for the rest of my life. Sunday will be a day of rolling about doing nothing, working out, and then heading to watch the game at the Moose with whomever decides to watch it there. Hopefully my friends will be there, and at least I’ll have a chance to hang out with them. That’ll make the day worth my while.

My coworker has what seems to be an appendicitis, and has been advised by the nurse on call for her benefits company to go to an emergency room. For some reason, she’s made an appointment to see a doctor at 1:30 today instead. I don’t get it. But it’s her body, so I guess it’ll just have to be what it is. Crazy silly girl. I hope it doesn’t burst…she looks like she’s in a BUNCH o’ pain. Maybe in another hour, she’ll change her mind. I dunno…

Hoping that today will be another short one, but there aren’t any guarantees on that, as I seem to have plenty of work piled on my plate for the day. Oh well…I was here a bit late last night, too. Makes up for all the days I run a bit late in the morning – which is pretty much every day! So I guess I owe it to them. This place is so laid back about that sort of shit, though, it’s awesome. No one has said a thing about my running late in the morning. I’m supposed to get here at 8, and I tend to get here between 8:05 and 8:15. I try! I do…but for some reason, no matter how early I get up, or how ahead of the game I am getting ready in the morning, something slows me down. This morning, I was on it. I had my lunch and my breakfast ready to go by 7 a.m. and went to wake the boyfriend up before I brushed my teeth. He got up, and then at about 7:20, he started talking about some work stuff. So we got caught up in this conversation about the shit that’s going on, and suddenly he realized he was late, and I still didn’t have any make-up on, and there it went. My little being-ahead-of-the-game bit was gone. I didn’t get out of the house until 7:50, and it’s pushing it for me to leave at 7:45! So I got to work late. Again. No biggy, though. Like I said, this place kicks ass…

Ok, enough with the boring rambling. I need to go find a coworker that needs a letter, and then get on with the day. I can’t believe it’s already 11! Everyone have a lovely Friday…