For some reason the link to the Tuesday Blog isn't working in my previous post. Here it is:
http://www.half12.blogspot.com/
Friday, January 30, 2009
How Your Heart Can Break For A Stranger
Thankful I'm off work today. Thankful no one is here to see my bawling my eyes out. Thankful - knock on wood - I have a healthy child.
I can't imagine. I just can't imagine.
Please pray for Tuesday and her family - not just on Tuesday, but every day.
Plan B (this isn't about birth control)
On many occasions, I have marveled at the different high school experiences that Hubby and I had. I was a Good Girl. I never got into trouble (read: never got caught in anything more than minor mischief), I didn't drink, didn't smoke, and pretty much followed the rulz. Hubby on the other hand, did not. I'm sincerely amazed that he made it to and through college, much less to adulthood. Because of his partying ways, he somehow established the nickname, The Zorn. I don't get it, I don't understand it. But I have seen it in action and been amazed by the party power of The Zorn.
Because of this, I often worry about what the future holds for the Mini. Will he be The Saint or The Sinner? Or maybe a hybrid of the two? I've already decided that in order to delay additional graying of my hair and to help him make it to adulthood with a completely functioning body and all of his limbs intact, I must plan for the future.
Plan A.
At age 12, Mini will be informed that if he gets "A's" in junior high and high school, successfully obtains scholarships to pay for schooling, and maintains this success through college, upon graduation he will receive any and all money left over in his college fund to use as he wishes. Travel the world, down-payment on a house, cars, whatever. It is my firm belief that the promise of this money will encourage him to bury his nose in the books and eliminate any desire to duplicate The Zorn. If he were to labor under the misguided belief that the fund is larger than it actually is, I, of course, cannot control that. This is bribery of the highest order.
After further consideration, I came up with Plan B and immediately realized that Plan B is likely to have fewer loopholes or potential problems as Plan A (what if, by the time Mini reaches age 12, he's just not the absolute GENIUS that he is now?). So, Plan B is the New Plan A.
Plan B (but really A)
Commencing immediately, use of the computer will be encouraged. Monitored, of course. Since most habits, personality traits, characteristics are pretty much set in stone by age 5, I will spend the next 2 ½ years turning Mini into a computer nerd. If I shape him NOW to become a nerd, by the time he reaches high school, he will be more interested in pounded away on the computer keys, doing projects for science fairs and studying the migration habits of ants than he will in turning himself into the second coming of The Zorn.
Now, this is not to suggest that by being less like Hubby will make him happier, more successful, etc. But, it definitely increases his chances of survival.
Because of this, I often worry about what the future holds for the Mini. Will he be The Saint or The Sinner? Or maybe a hybrid of the two? I've already decided that in order to delay additional graying of my hair and to help him make it to adulthood with a completely functioning body and all of his limbs intact, I must plan for the future.
Plan A.
At age 12, Mini will be informed that if he gets "A's" in junior high and high school, successfully obtains scholarships to pay for schooling, and maintains this success through college, upon graduation he will receive any and all money left over in his college fund to use as he wishes. Travel the world, down-payment on a house, cars, whatever. It is my firm belief that the promise of this money will encourage him to bury his nose in the books and eliminate any desire to duplicate The Zorn. If he were to labor under the misguided belief that the fund is larger than it actually is, I, of course, cannot control that. This is bribery of the highest order.
After further consideration, I came up with Plan B and immediately realized that Plan B is likely to have fewer loopholes or potential problems as Plan A (what if, by the time Mini reaches age 12, he's just not the absolute GENIUS that he is now?). So, Plan B is the New Plan A.
Plan B (but really A)
Commencing immediately, use of the computer will be encouraged. Monitored, of course. Since most habits, personality traits, characteristics are pretty much set in stone by age 5, I will spend the next 2 ½ years turning Mini into a computer nerd. If I shape him NOW to become a nerd, by the time he reaches high school, he will be more interested in pounded away on the computer keys, doing projects for science fairs and studying the migration habits of ants than he will in turning himself into the second coming of The Zorn.
Now, this is not to suggest that by being less like Hubby will make him happier, more successful, etc. But, it definitely increases his chances of survival.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Ain't Too Proud To Beg
I got this award from Katy! But technically, she didn’t give it to me. I begged for it. With smiley faces.
The rules for the Honest Scrap award -The honorees are to: A) first list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep! B) pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap.
Part A. Honesty:
1. I have a weird fascination with natural disasters. Ever see “Catch and Release”? Jennifer Garner’s character starts revealing deep, dark secrets about herself and says, “I love natural disasters and I’m genuinely disappointed when the death toll isn’t higher.” Well, I’m not THAT bad, but I found it hilarious in the same way I found Coco’s booger collection funny. So maybe I can identify with that. No judging, thanks. I guess I have a little bit of a dark side.
2. I’m very anal (pardon the pun) about pinching off a loaf in public/shared restrooms. If I am ever unable to take care of business BEFORE coming to work, I have a very complicated way of getting it done between the hours of 7:30 and 4:30. And, if I’m being PERFECTLY honest, I never go poo-ey after 10-ish. For some reason, my biological make-up just doesn’t allow it.
3. I love restaurants. I love not cooking. I love being waited on. I love being given practically anything I ask for (within reason, of course).
4. When I was little, I wanted to be a garbage collector. Riding on the back of the truck looked so effing fun.
5. I have a hard time turning the household and toddler-related chores over to Hubby. Last night, it took everything I had to just sit on the couch and watch TV while Hubby gave Mini his bath. I think I have control issues.
6. I don’t have high self-esteem. In fact, it’s pretty low. Work compliments? Nah, they just haven’t figured me out yet. Looks? I hate my nose, I have a butt-crack wrinkle between my eyebrows, I need to lose 20 pounds to be at my wedding weight and I have horribly dry feet. Being a wife and mom? I don’t have the most patience in the world and think I could be doing a better job for them both.
7. I used to worry so badly about my parents – if I couldn’t reach them on the phone I would be in a near-panic state, convinced they’d been in a car wreck or had died from carbon monoxide poisoning. I think living so far away has sort of cured that for me.
8. If you had told me ten years ago that I would live any farther away from A-Town than Dallas, TX, I would have laughed at you. If you had told me that I’d move to Portland without knowing a soul in town, I would have told you that you were nuts. It just wasn’t something I ever imagined for myself.
9. I want to live in New York City and am insanely jealous of anyone that does. Watching The City makes me sadz. Whitney Port has my dream job AND lives in my dream city. What a Bitch.
10. I love to spend money, but never do.
Part B. Pass it on!
Lindsay
Kally
Impulsive Addict
Anniebanannie
Coco (although she just listed 100 things about herself, so she might be listed out.)
Shannon
Lisa
No worries if you don't want to do it! I'll still like you.
The rules for the Honest Scrap award -The honorees are to: A) first list 10 honest things about yourself - and make it interesting, even if you have to dig deep! B) pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you feel embody the spirit of the Honest Scrap.
Part A. Honesty:
1. I have a weird fascination with natural disasters. Ever see “Catch and Release”? Jennifer Garner’s character starts revealing deep, dark secrets about herself and says, “I love natural disasters and I’m genuinely disappointed when the death toll isn’t higher.” Well, I’m not THAT bad, but I found it hilarious in the same way I found Coco’s booger collection funny. So maybe I can identify with that. No judging, thanks. I guess I have a little bit of a dark side.
2. I’m very anal (pardon the pun) about pinching off a loaf in public/shared restrooms. If I am ever unable to take care of business BEFORE coming to work, I have a very complicated way of getting it done between the hours of 7:30 and 4:30. And, if I’m being PERFECTLY honest, I never go poo-ey after 10-ish. For some reason, my biological make-up just doesn’t allow it.
3. I love restaurants. I love not cooking. I love being waited on. I love being given practically anything I ask for (within reason, of course).
4. When I was little, I wanted to be a garbage collector. Riding on the back of the truck looked so effing fun.
5. I have a hard time turning the household and toddler-related chores over to Hubby. Last night, it took everything I had to just sit on the couch and watch TV while Hubby gave Mini his bath. I think I have control issues.
6. I don’t have high self-esteem. In fact, it’s pretty low. Work compliments? Nah, they just haven’t figured me out yet. Looks? I hate my nose, I have a butt-crack wrinkle between my eyebrows, I need to lose 20 pounds to be at my wedding weight and I have horribly dry feet. Being a wife and mom? I don’t have the most patience in the world and think I could be doing a better job for them both.
7. I used to worry so badly about my parents – if I couldn’t reach them on the phone I would be in a near-panic state, convinced they’d been in a car wreck or had died from carbon monoxide poisoning. I think living so far away has sort of cured that for me.
8. If you had told me ten years ago that I would live any farther away from A-Town than Dallas, TX, I would have laughed at you. If you had told me that I’d move to Portland without knowing a soul in town, I would have told you that you were nuts. It just wasn’t something I ever imagined for myself.
9. I want to live in New York City and am insanely jealous of anyone that does. Watching The City makes me sadz. Whitney Port has my dream job AND lives in my dream city. What a Bitch.
10. I love to spend money, but never do.
Part B. Pass it on!
Lindsay
Kally
Impulsive Addict
Anniebanannie
Coco (although she just listed 100 things about herself, so she might be listed out.)
Shannon
Lisa
No worries if you don't want to do it! I'll still like you.
Make It Count Monday
Yeah, yeah. So it’s not Monday. But dammit, this is MY blog and I can call it Monday if I want to. I was preoccupied with pictures of The Mini on Monday.
Today my MICM is a double barrel shout-out. This one goes to…my parents!
My momma
I really do have the best mom and know how lucky I am to have her. And I know how lucky she feels to have me as a daughter, because let’s face it - who wouldn’t? But, seriously folks… I know there were a lot of sacrifices that were made while my Sis and I were growing up and Mom was more than happy to make them. Or, if she wasn’t happy about it, she never let on! :o) I’m so glad that I was never a latchkey kid and that there was someone home after school when I got there. I’m so glad that once I got into Junior High, she never made me ride the bus… she always drove me to school in the big blue tank (that 76 Buick Regal was hot!) – which was infinitely better than one of the Yellow Dawgs. I’m so glad that, even though we weren’t the richest family in town, sis and I always had (almost) everything we wanted. I may have never had a pair of Guess jeans, but dammit it if I didn’t have a pair of Keds and a pair of Dexters. My momma is funny - intentionally and unintentionally – and is never funnier than when she gets tickled about something and you can tell she just might tinkle on herself.
Daddio
My daddio is Da Man. Anybody who knows him will tell you I’m not lying. He’s funnier than most people I know and loyal to the core. Dad worked hard so that we could have what we needed and to make sure we were all safe, so much so that he went halfway across the world to do it. When he was gone to Desert Storm in 1991 (first to go, last to come home!), I was in a bit of a selfish teenager phase. I’m not sure why, but when he was gone, I think I only wrote him one letter and I still feel guilty about it to this day. I talked to him on the phone when he would get a chance to call and I missed him like crazy. Maybe it was easier for me to deal with it that way. But, regardless, he never let on if this made him angry or hurt him in any way. That’s how awesome he is. One summer, the newspaper in town was having a contest – sort of a scavenger hunt with new clues each week – and my dad and I tried to figure it out together. We didn’t, but to this day it’s one of my very best memories with my dad.
My parents are fun, funny, smart, and steadfast. If everyone had parents like mine, the world would be a better place.
Today my MICM is a double barrel shout-out. This one goes to…my parents!
My momma
I really do have the best mom and know how lucky I am to have her. And I know how lucky she feels to have me as a daughter, because let’s face it - who wouldn’t? But, seriously folks… I know there were a lot of sacrifices that were made while my Sis and I were growing up and Mom was more than happy to make them. Or, if she wasn’t happy about it, she never let on! :o) I’m so glad that I was never a latchkey kid and that there was someone home after school when I got there. I’m so glad that once I got into Junior High, she never made me ride the bus… she always drove me to school in the big blue tank (that 76 Buick Regal was hot!) – which was infinitely better than one of the Yellow Dawgs. I’m so glad that, even though we weren’t the richest family in town, sis and I always had (almost) everything we wanted. I may have never had a pair of Guess jeans, but dammit it if I didn’t have a pair of Keds and a pair of Dexters. My momma is funny - intentionally and unintentionally – and is never funnier than when she gets tickled about something and you can tell she just might tinkle on herself.
Daddio
My daddio is Da Man. Anybody who knows him will tell you I’m not lying. He’s funnier than most people I know and loyal to the core. Dad worked hard so that we could have what we needed and to make sure we were all safe, so much so that he went halfway across the world to do it. When he was gone to Desert Storm in 1991 (first to go, last to come home!), I was in a bit of a selfish teenager phase. I’m not sure why, but when he was gone, I think I only wrote him one letter and I still feel guilty about it to this day. I talked to him on the phone when he would get a chance to call and I missed him like crazy. Maybe it was easier for me to deal with it that way. But, regardless, he never let on if this made him angry or hurt him in any way. That’s how awesome he is. One summer, the newspaper in town was having a contest – sort of a scavenger hunt with new clues each week – and my dad and I tried to figure it out together. We didn’t, but to this day it’s one of my very best memories with my dad.
My parents are fun, funny, smart, and steadfast. If everyone had parents like mine, the world would be a better place.
Monday, January 26, 2009
For a Limited Time Only
ETR (Edited to Remove) pictures of Mini!
First of all, I would like to send a Thank You to the person who put the sticky note on the bathroom stall door which said “No T.P.” on it, thereby helping me to avoid the dreaded drip dry. Even though you don’t read this blog – whoever you are – thanks for alerting us all to the absence of shit tickets. You have served human kind well today.
Katy has asked that I come out of the glass and share some pictures. The idea of this makes me very nervous. As it is, there are certain identifiers in my blog that could undeniably tie it to me and I’ve been very careful to avoid being detected. That said, I really would like to share some pictures of my Mini. So for today and today only, I am honoring Katy’s request.
A bit of photojournalism for you…
Here is Mini pretending to be asleep. If only…
:o) Picture deleted!
He doesn’t have a long shelf life in faking me out. He’s easily distracted by Little Einsteins.
:o) Picture deleted!
And now Leo, Annie, Quincy and June have worn out their welcome. Time to get up….
:o) Picture deleted!
…and give a smile to the Vessel (aka Me)
:o) Picture deleted!
What? Someone dared to tell the Mini no?!?!
:o) Picture deleted!
And now the demonic possession begins to manifest.
:o) Picture deleted!
I’ve heard that when you take pictures of people who are possessed, the image is distorted.
:o) Picture deleted!
And just as quickly as it takes hold, it is exorcised by the discovery of the Vessel’s (aka Me) headband.
:o) Picture deleted!
Have a great day everyone!!
First of all, I would like to send a Thank You to the person who put the sticky note on the bathroom stall door which said “No T.P.” on it, thereby helping me to avoid the dreaded drip dry. Even though you don’t read this blog – whoever you are – thanks for alerting us all to the absence of shit tickets. You have served human kind well today.
Katy has asked that I come out of the glass and share some pictures. The idea of this makes me very nervous. As it is, there are certain identifiers in my blog that could undeniably tie it to me and I’ve been very careful to avoid being detected. That said, I really would like to share some pictures of my Mini. So for today and today only, I am honoring Katy’s request.
A bit of photojournalism for you…
Here is Mini pretending to be asleep. If only…
:o) Picture deleted!
He doesn’t have a long shelf life in faking me out. He’s easily distracted by Little Einsteins.
:o) Picture deleted!
And now Leo, Annie, Quincy and June have worn out their welcome. Time to get up….
:o) Picture deleted!
…and give a smile to the Vessel (aka Me)
:o) Picture deleted!
What? Someone dared to tell the Mini no?!?!
:o) Picture deleted!
And now the demonic possession begins to manifest.
:o) Picture deleted!
I’ve heard that when you take pictures of people who are possessed, the image is distorted.
:o) Picture deleted!
And just as quickly as it takes hold, it is exorcised by the discovery of the Vessel’s (aka Me) headband.
:o) Picture deleted!
Have a great day everyone!!
Weird.
I didn't really watch any news this weekend, and this morning when I briefly heard the news about a shooting downtown, I cringed internally and then went about my morning. On the way to work, Hubby told me all about it. Apparently some random guy parked his car outside the building I work in, walked about 6 blocks away and started shooting at some teens waiting to get in an underage nightclub for a birthday party on Saturday night. The worst part, according to the story Hubby read? The club had been rented out by the Rotary Club and there were a bunch of foreign exchange students there for the party. One of the girls that died was from Peru and another was a local girl who was planning to study in France or Spain. Seven other people were shot.
Aside from the fact that two families' lives were just completely destroyed, I'm selfishly sad that this happened HERE. As you probably know from my previous post, I lived downtown when I first moved here. I've always loved the vibe and how alive it is. Yeah, you got your freaks, druggies and runaways, but that's part of its charm and for the most part everyone coexists rather peacefully. I've always felt so safe at any time of day or night. I suppose it doesn't really matter where you are, though. This sort of thing can happen anywhere, right?
Oh well....
Aside from the fact that two families' lives were just completely destroyed, I'm selfishly sad that this happened HERE. As you probably know from my previous post, I lived downtown when I first moved here. I've always loved the vibe and how alive it is. Yeah, you got your freaks, druggies and runaways, but that's part of its charm and for the most part everyone coexists rather peacefully. I've always felt so safe at any time of day or night. I suppose it doesn't really matter where you are, though. This sort of thing can happen anywhere, right?
Oh well....
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Writer's Workshop
I staggered over to Mama’s Losin It and really looked around for the first time. And, behold! What did I find? A Writer’s Workshop! I think I’d like to join the fun…so, I’m going to write about a memorable blind date.
Six years ago, I moved to Portland, OR from Dallas all by my little self. I was… geez…how old was I? Quick math…I’m 33 now, minus the six, 13 minus 6 is 7, change the 3 to a 2…that would have made me 27.
I was 27 and didn’t know a soul here. It was scary and exciting all at the same time. I had never truly been on my own like this before. I lived in an apartment on the 10th floor of a downtown apartment (with fantastic views, I should add) and could walk anywhere I wanted to go, even to work, which was only two blocks away. And it was at work that I started to find my footing, where I began making friends. Finding someone I was interested in was a different story. The only people I knew were the people that I worked with and you know the old saying…Don’t shit where you eat? Not that I’m comparing dating with shitting, but you get my drift.
I spent 9 months contentedly hanging out with my best Portland friend, Chris, going out for drinks, shopping with friends and spending my weekends anyway I wanted - which often consisted of wandering around downtown and watching tons of movies and TV. Yeah, the TVs and movies by myself sound sort of lame, but it was the BEST. I could even stay in my jammies!
Then, in September, a woman that I knew through the industry I work in told me that she wanted to introduce me to her co-worker, Michael. I told H. okay, mostly because saying no to something like that usually makes you look like a jerk. The more I thought about it, the more I was okay with it. I mean, how else was I going to meet someone? I wasn’t into meeting guys at bars. And I certainly wasn’t going to find one at church because people just don’t go to church here - unless they’re over the age of 70, closing in on death and want a little fire insurance.
A couple of weeks later H. came to the office with a guy in tow.
“Hi, K. I want to introduce you to Michael H.” I was MOR.TI.FIED. This is not how it’s supposed to work! It’s against the rules to catch one of the people off-guard like that. Right? But, I sucked it up and put on my smiliest, nicest, friendliest face and introduced myself.
And there wasn’t much of a response from Michael. I hadn’t thought the mortification could get any worse, but it did. But, then I was okay with it. A peace settled over me…because - how do I say this nicely? – the guy wasn’t really my type. What a relief that he could tell H. later that he just wasn’t interested and so I wouldn’t have to be the one to say, “No, thanks, but I’ll pass.” Or worse, he WAS interested, but shy, and I would say yes, because I don’t know how to say no, and end up on a date with a guy that clearly doesn’t know how to talk!!
My friend Chris happened to walk up to my desk at that moment and so I introduced her to H and to Michael. Chris, H. and I chatted while Michael stood there silently. After H and Michael left, I whispered to Chris, “I think that’s the guy that she wants to set me up with!!”
She shook her head with wide eyes, sorta laughed and said, “Noooooo. You can’t. No. Absolutely not. No.” Even she could see how painful a date with him would be.
A couple of weeks went by with no word from H. about setting me up with Michael. I was relieved. And oddly bruised. I mean, seriously, he could do SO MUCH BETTER than me? I’m not one to call myself pretty and occasionally have self-esteem issues related to appearances (I wouldn’t say no if I were offered a nose job). But, I don’t think I’m hideous enough that someone wouldn’t want to get to know me better.
Whatever, I told myself, it’s ridiculous to feel slighted by someone I wasn’t the least bit interested in.
And, then it happened on October 9th. H. came into my office and said the words I did not want to hear. “Michael wanted me to get your phone number.” Ugh. Instantaneous thoughts tumbled around in my brain. How do I get out of this? How do I say no thanks?!? Would she believe me if I told her I was a lesbian? It is Portland, after all. Oh dear, God, what do I do?!?! And I said the only thing I could think of…
“Sure, it’s 503-xxx-xxxx.” Did I just do that? Great. Now what? This guy is going to call and I don’t want to go out with him!!!
As soon as I could, I ran to Chris’s desk and told her that Michael wanted my number. “You told H. you weren’t interested, right?” I made a face. “K, you didn’t give her your number to give to him, did you?” I nodded. “Oooooh nooooo….You have to go out with him. That sucks for you.”
I walked home that afternoon with a pit in my stomach. Maybe he wouldn’t call tonight. Maybe there would be a stay of execution. Maybe….maybe….maybe. I walked in and saw the blinking light on my machine. Dammit. Everyone else I know calls on my cell phone. ShitShitShit. It’s either him or a credit card company. Either way, it wasn’t good.
With a heavy heart, I pushed the damn button. “Hi K”…strange, he sounds so outgoing… “this is Michael K. I got your number from H and wanted to call and introduce myself. My number is 503-xxx-xxxx.” Wait, what? I listened to it again. And again. Did I hear that right? Michael K, not Michael H? I almost did cartwheels. This was good news. Great news. The best. The Michael she had introduced me to was not the Michael she wanted to set me up with!!!! Yahooey-kablooey!!
And, so, I returned his call that evening. We talked for a while, getting the basics out of the way. He was leaving the following day for Philadelphia for work and wouldn’t be back until the 17th. And, Lindsay was coming to visit me for my birthday weekend on the 16th and staying until the 20th. So, we agreed to go out for Happy Hour drinks on October 21st. It was a Tuesday, so it was a safe out for both of us. If it wasn’t going well, I think both quietly knew that the old “I have to get home for a really early meeting” would work wonders.
October 21 came quickly. He was picking me up at my apartment at 4pm. I went home and changed clothes and waited. And waited. At 4:05 he called. He was lost. I couldn’t help but make fun of him for needing directions in a town that he grew up in from a gal that had only been here since January. Fortunately, he took the teasing well and showed up anyway at around 4:15. He took me to a great restaurant up in the hills with floor to ceiling windows and a fantastic view of the river and the city. We drank cocktails and ate appetizers and talked and talked and talked. In the blink of an eye, it was almost 7 and probably a good time to go home. When he dropped me off, we agreed to talk again soon.
By the end of the month, we were inseparable.
In January, I moved in with him.
In March, we got engaged.
And on October 9th, exactly one year after I almost refused to give H. my phone number, and exactly one year after the first time Michael K and I talked, we got married (ironically, with Michael H, a childhood friend of Michael K., standing there as a groomsman.)
And that is my story of a memorable blind date…and marriage…and little boy…that almost didn’t happen.
Six years ago, I moved to Portland, OR from Dallas all by my little self. I was… geez…how old was I? Quick math…I’m 33 now, minus the six, 13 minus 6 is 7, change the 3 to a 2…that would have made me 27.
I was 27 and didn’t know a soul here. It was scary and exciting all at the same time. I had never truly been on my own like this before. I lived in an apartment on the 10th floor of a downtown apartment (with fantastic views, I should add) and could walk anywhere I wanted to go, even to work, which was only two blocks away. And it was at work that I started to find my footing, where I began making friends. Finding someone I was interested in was a different story. The only people I knew were the people that I worked with and you know the old saying…Don’t shit where you eat? Not that I’m comparing dating with shitting, but you get my drift.
I spent 9 months contentedly hanging out with my best Portland friend, Chris, going out for drinks, shopping with friends and spending my weekends anyway I wanted - which often consisted of wandering around downtown and watching tons of movies and TV. Yeah, the TVs and movies by myself sound sort of lame, but it was the BEST. I could even stay in my jammies!
Then, in September, a woman that I knew through the industry I work in told me that she wanted to introduce me to her co-worker, Michael. I told H. okay, mostly because saying no to something like that usually makes you look like a jerk. The more I thought about it, the more I was okay with it. I mean, how else was I going to meet someone? I wasn’t into meeting guys at bars. And I certainly wasn’t going to find one at church because people just don’t go to church here - unless they’re over the age of 70, closing in on death and want a little fire insurance.
A couple of weeks later H. came to the office with a guy in tow.
“Hi, K. I want to introduce you to Michael H.” I was MOR.TI.FIED. This is not how it’s supposed to work! It’s against the rules to catch one of the people off-guard like that. Right? But, I sucked it up and put on my smiliest, nicest, friendliest face and introduced myself.
And there wasn’t much of a response from Michael. I hadn’t thought the mortification could get any worse, but it did. But, then I was okay with it. A peace settled over me…because - how do I say this nicely? – the guy wasn’t really my type. What a relief that he could tell H. later that he just wasn’t interested and so I wouldn’t have to be the one to say, “No, thanks, but I’ll pass.” Or worse, he WAS interested, but shy, and I would say yes, because I don’t know how to say no, and end up on a date with a guy that clearly doesn’t know how to talk!!
My friend Chris happened to walk up to my desk at that moment and so I introduced her to H and to Michael. Chris, H. and I chatted while Michael stood there silently. After H and Michael left, I whispered to Chris, “I think that’s the guy that she wants to set me up with!!”
She shook her head with wide eyes, sorta laughed and said, “Noooooo. You can’t. No. Absolutely not. No.” Even she could see how painful a date with him would be.
A couple of weeks went by with no word from H. about setting me up with Michael. I was relieved. And oddly bruised. I mean, seriously, he could do SO MUCH BETTER than me? I’m not one to call myself pretty and occasionally have self-esteem issues related to appearances (I wouldn’t say no if I were offered a nose job). But, I don’t think I’m hideous enough that someone wouldn’t want to get to know me better.
Whatever, I told myself, it’s ridiculous to feel slighted by someone I wasn’t the least bit interested in.
And, then it happened on October 9th. H. came into my office and said the words I did not want to hear. “Michael wanted me to get your phone number.” Ugh. Instantaneous thoughts tumbled around in my brain. How do I get out of this? How do I say no thanks?!? Would she believe me if I told her I was a lesbian? It is Portland, after all. Oh dear, God, what do I do?!?! And I said the only thing I could think of…
“Sure, it’s 503-xxx-xxxx.” Did I just do that? Great. Now what? This guy is going to call and I don’t want to go out with him!!!
As soon as I could, I ran to Chris’s desk and told her that Michael wanted my number. “You told H. you weren’t interested, right?” I made a face. “K, you didn’t give her your number to give to him, did you?” I nodded. “Oooooh nooooo….You have to go out with him. That sucks for you.”
I walked home that afternoon with a pit in my stomach. Maybe he wouldn’t call tonight. Maybe there would be a stay of execution. Maybe….maybe….maybe. I walked in and saw the blinking light on my machine. Dammit. Everyone else I know calls on my cell phone. ShitShitShit. It’s either him or a credit card company. Either way, it wasn’t good.
With a heavy heart, I pushed the damn button. “Hi K”…strange, he sounds so outgoing… “this is Michael K. I got your number from H and wanted to call and introduce myself. My number is 503-xxx-xxxx.” Wait, what? I listened to it again. And again. Did I hear that right? Michael K, not Michael H? I almost did cartwheels. This was good news. Great news. The best. The Michael she had introduced me to was not the Michael she wanted to set me up with!!!! Yahooey-kablooey!!
And, so, I returned his call that evening. We talked for a while, getting the basics out of the way. He was leaving the following day for Philadelphia for work and wouldn’t be back until the 17th. And, Lindsay was coming to visit me for my birthday weekend on the 16th and staying until the 20th. So, we agreed to go out for Happy Hour drinks on October 21st. It was a Tuesday, so it was a safe out for both of us. If it wasn’t going well, I think both quietly knew that the old “I have to get home for a really early meeting” would work wonders.
October 21 came quickly. He was picking me up at my apartment at 4pm. I went home and changed clothes and waited. And waited. At 4:05 he called. He was lost. I couldn’t help but make fun of him for needing directions in a town that he grew up in from a gal that had only been here since January. Fortunately, he took the teasing well and showed up anyway at around 4:15. He took me to a great restaurant up in the hills with floor to ceiling windows and a fantastic view of the river and the city. We drank cocktails and ate appetizers and talked and talked and talked. In the blink of an eye, it was almost 7 and probably a good time to go home. When he dropped me off, we agreed to talk again soon.
By the end of the month, we were inseparable.
In January, I moved in with him.
In March, we got engaged.
And on October 9th, exactly one year after I almost refused to give H. my phone number, and exactly one year after the first time Michael K and I talked, we got married (ironically, with Michael H, a childhood friend of Michael K., standing there as a groomsman.)
And that is my story of a memorable blind date…and marriage…and little boy…that almost didn’t happen.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Potty Humor
Farty McFarterson is at it again. It makes me laugh. But, not out loud. Just in my head.
In related news, I have to pee. Really bad. But I just went to the bathroom and one of the stalls is out of order and the other is occupied by someone makin' a stinky.
This means I have to hold it until it airs out. I wouldn't want someone to walk in, recognize my shoes under the wall of the one stall and think I'm the one who emitted such gaseous fumes. No, we can't have that.
I suppose I could go make a peepee on another floor, but that would be too easy.
Ugh, she just farted again. This is ridiculous.
Okay, there it was a THIRD TIME. My goodness, she better be careful or she just might mess her pants.
Maybe I should send her this SNL "commercial."
In related news, I have to pee. Really bad. But I just went to the bathroom and one of the stalls is out of order and the other is occupied by someone makin' a stinky.
This means I have to hold it until it airs out. I wouldn't want someone to walk in, recognize my shoes under the wall of the one stall and think I'm the one who emitted such gaseous fumes. No, we can't have that.
I suppose I could go make a peepee on another floor, but that would be too easy.
Ugh, she just farted again. This is ridiculous.
Okay, there it was a THIRD TIME. My goodness, she better be careful or she just might mess her pants.
Maybe I should send her this SNL "commercial."
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
A New Era
Back in June, huge lines snaked through downtown and the impossibility of making it into Tom McCall Waterfront Park was abundantly clear. Up Columbia to Fourth, down Fourth to Main. Down Main to Second. Down Second to Salmon, and up Salmon to way past the building where I work up on 6th. Hubby and I gave up and went to Veritable Quandary a block away, sat outside with mimosas and beer and watched others making the walk, all the while knowing that they were headed the wrong direction. The end of the line was about a mile away in the other direction. We had a good seat. We were outside, it was sunny and maybe, just maybe, we would hear his speech. We would definitely hear the roar of the crowd.
But, we just couldn’t give up. We knew that the volunteers couldn’t manage the line forever. And so, the impossibility of getting to the park was tempered by a slight buzz and the courage that comes with it. We paid our bill and blended into the crowd, making our way to the park. I’d been in a similar line before. I wasn’t a huge fan of the speaker that day four years ago, but wanted to go hear Bon Jovi play and see Leonardo DiCaprio introduce John Kerry.
But this line was different. There was palpable electricity in the air and sparks in people’s eyes. People much like me who had never felt any sort of passion for politics, never seen anyone who could inspire the hope and excitement for something NEW that we were all craving. We all packed into the park, with Mt. Hood in the distance, a cloudless blue sky framing the bridges into downtown and boats dotting the riverfront, pulled into place for this event just as they would be doing a few weeks later for the Fourth of July Celebration.
Eighty thousand people. Some estimated it to be eighty-five or more, and given the fact that so many people were standing on Naito Parkway, blocking intersections and standing in the median, I certainly could believe it. And then, suddenly there he was, a man that I had come to admire, who so confidently carried on his shoulders the hopes and dreams of a nation longing for a return to who we used to be. I could barely see him. He was just a blue dot on a stage, in front of an American Flag and a jubilant crowd. But it didn’t matter.
You see, what was important wasn’t necessarily him, or hearing him speak. It was being with all these people, these complete strangers, who, for just this brief time felt like friends. I stood in front of a fifty-ish African American man and behind a Muslim woman with her two children, and as different as we all were, we were there for the same reason. I know that at the end of my life, it will remain one of my most memorable moments. It was the day that I saw a true leader speak, the man who – against all odds – would become our President six months later.
Today, I sat again watching the same man speak, this time from 3000 miles away. The company I work for opened up the auditorium in our building and streamed CNN in for everyone who wanted to watch. It was standing room only in there…and in the café on the first floor, as well as the other two rooms over at our Plaza building opened for the same reason. There was a quiet in the building and in the streets around us as the ceremony began. This time when he spoke, he was speaking from a place that people like me helped to put him. My support, my donations, my talking to people (some times more successful than others) - it felt as if it was my success. Yes We Can. Yes I Can.
I know some cynical people think that those like me are suffering from a herding mentality. That those of us who are so excited, so happy today, are lemmings who have just led our country to the edge of the cliff. That may be.
But today? I’m happy. I’m hopeful. And I’m excited about what is to come.
But, we just couldn’t give up. We knew that the volunteers couldn’t manage the line forever. And so, the impossibility of getting to the park was tempered by a slight buzz and the courage that comes with it. We paid our bill and blended into the crowd, making our way to the park. I’d been in a similar line before. I wasn’t a huge fan of the speaker that day four years ago, but wanted to go hear Bon Jovi play and see Leonardo DiCaprio introduce John Kerry.
But this line was different. There was palpable electricity in the air and sparks in people’s eyes. People much like me who had never felt any sort of passion for politics, never seen anyone who could inspire the hope and excitement for something NEW that we were all craving. We all packed into the park, with Mt. Hood in the distance, a cloudless blue sky framing the bridges into downtown and boats dotting the riverfront, pulled into place for this event just as they would be doing a few weeks later for the Fourth of July Celebration.
Eighty thousand people. Some estimated it to be eighty-five or more, and given the fact that so many people were standing on Naito Parkway, blocking intersections and standing in the median, I certainly could believe it. And then, suddenly there he was, a man that I had come to admire, who so confidently carried on his shoulders the hopes and dreams of a nation longing for a return to who we used to be. I could barely see him. He was just a blue dot on a stage, in front of an American Flag and a jubilant crowd. But it didn’t matter.
You see, what was important wasn’t necessarily him, or hearing him speak. It was being with all these people, these complete strangers, who, for just this brief time felt like friends. I stood in front of a fifty-ish African American man and behind a Muslim woman with her two children, and as different as we all were, we were there for the same reason. I know that at the end of my life, it will remain one of my most memorable moments. It was the day that I saw a true leader speak, the man who – against all odds – would become our President six months later.
Today, I sat again watching the same man speak, this time from 3000 miles away. The company I work for opened up the auditorium in our building and streamed CNN in for everyone who wanted to watch. It was standing room only in there…and in the café on the first floor, as well as the other two rooms over at our Plaza building opened for the same reason. There was a quiet in the building and in the streets around us as the ceremony began. This time when he spoke, he was speaking from a place that people like me helped to put him. My support, my donations, my talking to people (some times more successful than others) - it felt as if it was my success. Yes We Can. Yes I Can.
I know some cynical people think that those like me are suffering from a herding mentality. That those of us who are so excited, so happy today, are lemmings who have just led our country to the edge of the cliff. That may be.
But today? I’m happy. I’m hopeful. And I’m excited about what is to come.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Make It Count Monday, Week 2
Okay, I think my good mood is partially back. Enough to write about my friend, Valerie, for Make It Count Monday!
I've known Valerie (a non-blogger, by the way!) since, well, it's hard to say. We went to the same junior high school, she was a year behind me and I knew OF her, but didn't really know her. In high school, I suppose we were acquaintances. At that time, she was more my friend Lindsay's friend. There was this pep club thing at AHS called Contnahomas (it means "Red Skirt") and Lindsay was the President and Valerie was one of the other officer people. So, that's the extent of my friendship withValerie during high school.
In college, we had a class together - my sophomore year, her freshman - and we sat together, mostly I think because we were each other's familiar face. We bonded at one point because our sisters were both pregnant at the same time. After that history class, we didn't really see each other or keep in touch. I think it was about a year later, we had yet another class together (small university so this is not that unusual) which included many instances of studying together. A friendship was born. Just a few short years later, we would become roommates during grad school.
Valerie is a very special and unique friend. She's that sweetest of personalities that everyone adores (and makes you feel like a grouchy bitch by comparison) and a sense of humor that can just shock you with a witty comment out of nowhere. Valerie and I have had very similar trajectories through life, same career choices, same geographic choices and have been side by side through a lot of life events. She was there when the planning of the wedding started (she's very big on lists and so was very helpful) and was there to answer my questions when I first realized I was pregnant.
But as important as all of that is, when I think of Valerie one word comes to mind: Laughter. She and I can laugh about everything and nothing all at the same time. Valerie's Kountry Kitchen/Experimental Cooking Night/Celebrity Cafe (with menu items like Anne Hech-browns, Kurt Brussel Sprouts, and Tom Hanks'n'Franks). And the trips...oh my goodness the road trips. New Orleans and our late discovery that labor day weekend is when they have Southern Decadence (aka Gay Mardi Gras), San Antonio (Dammit Wimberly!) and Taos - when I got sick and stayed at the hotel while she and Lindsay unwittingly hung out at a lesbian bar.
Valerie is back in Texas and now has baby number 2, who I have not met yet. So much of my adult life was spent with Valerie as my buddy, my friend, my confidant and now to not have her around is weird, unsettling and sad. I miss Valerie all the time and I don't think she realizes that, even though we don't talk as much as I'd like, she is always on my mind....especially when something funny happens.
I've known Valerie (a non-blogger, by the way!) since, well, it's hard to say. We went to the same junior high school, she was a year behind me and I knew OF her, but didn't really know her. In high school, I suppose we were acquaintances. At that time, she was more my friend Lindsay's friend. There was this pep club thing at AHS called Contnahomas (it means "Red Skirt") and Lindsay was the President and Valerie was one of the other officer people. So, that's the extent of my friendship withValerie during high school.
In college, we had a class together - my sophomore year, her freshman - and we sat together, mostly I think because we were each other's familiar face. We bonded at one point because our sisters were both pregnant at the same time. After that history class, we didn't really see each other or keep in touch. I think it was about a year later, we had yet another class together (small university so this is not that unusual) which included many instances of studying together. A friendship was born. Just a few short years later, we would become roommates during grad school.
Valerie is a very special and unique friend. She's that sweetest of personalities that everyone adores (and makes you feel like a grouchy bitch by comparison) and a sense of humor that can just shock you with a witty comment out of nowhere. Valerie and I have had very similar trajectories through life, same career choices, same geographic choices and have been side by side through a lot of life events. She was there when the planning of the wedding started (she's very big on lists and so was very helpful) and was there to answer my questions when I first realized I was pregnant.
But as important as all of that is, when I think of Valerie one word comes to mind: Laughter. She and I can laugh about everything and nothing all at the same time. Valerie's Kountry Kitchen/Experimental Cooking Night/Celebrity Cafe (with menu items like Anne Hech-browns, Kurt Brussel Sprouts, and Tom Hanks'n'Franks). And the trips...oh my goodness the road trips. New Orleans and our late discovery that labor day weekend is when they have Southern Decadence (aka Gay Mardi Gras), San Antonio (Dammit Wimberly!) and Taos - when I got sick and stayed at the hotel while she and Lindsay unwittingly hung out at a lesbian bar.
Valerie is back in Texas and now has baby number 2, who I have not met yet. So much of my adult life was spent with Valerie as my buddy, my friend, my confidant and now to not have her around is weird, unsettling and sad. I miss Valerie all the time and I don't think she realizes that, even though we don't talk as much as I'd like, she is always on my mind....especially when something funny happens.
Tagged, this time WITH graffiti
Today, I was all prepared to write my 2nd weekly Make It Count Monday Tribute. But, before my good mood had a chance to really settle in to the point that nothing could shake it, I got an email from the tenant at our house across the river in Vancouver. Apparently, a local artist is in the biz of sharing work at no cost.
How could this possibly ruin my good mood, you ask?
Because the “art” looks like this and resides on the side of the garage.
"The"? Really? Couldn't be more creative than that? At least we have a testament to our fine education system that the kids can spell something.
On top of it, I’ll be leaving work early to relieve my MIL of babysitting duties. Mini’s sitter’s kid has a fever today and we don’t want Mini contracting anything.
Maybe by the time I get home, my good mood will return and I can write today’s tribute. Or maybe I'll just write the tribute and it'll put me in a better mood.
How could this possibly ruin my good mood, you ask?
Because the “art” looks like this and resides on the side of the garage.
"The"? Really? Couldn't be more creative than that? At least we have a testament to our fine education system that the kids can spell something.
On top of it, I’ll be leaving work early to relieve my MIL of babysitting duties. Mini’s sitter’s kid has a fever today and we don’t want Mini contracting anything.
Maybe by the time I get home, my good mood will return and I can write today’s tribute. Or maybe I'll just write the tribute and it'll put me in a better mood.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
It's Asleep
It's almost 2pm here and Mini has been out since 11:30. I finished a book, watched a little TV and have had ample time to surf the internet. This is one step beyond miraculous. Two quiet days in a row? Unheard of!!
I hear Mini-noises, which means he's starting to wake up. I must go prepare myself.
I hear Mini-noises, which means he's starting to wake up. I must go prepare myself.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Tagged (and not with Graffiti!)
Thanks, Kally, for tagging me. I love this sort of thing! As with all games of tag, there are always rules.
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open to page 56.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 2 to 5 sentences, along with these rules.
5. Don't dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual book. Pick the CLOSEST!
6. Tag five other people to do the same!
The book nearest to me is Save Karyn by Karyn Bosnak. (Yes, it's one of my all time favorites, but I didn't have to go digging for it. I pulled it off the shelf on Monday to read for the umpteenth time just because I'm in the mood for a good laugh...) Here it is...
"The next day I woke up with a smile on my face. I got dressed for work and hopped on the bus. I was getting used to this commute. It wasn't so bad. I didn't have any cases today, so I got off a block early and went to Starbucks."
Too bad I couldn't use the page where she talks about getting her first Brazilian in a pubicle cubicle...or her encounter with Stevie Wonder where she humiliated herself by waving at him (a la Ryan Seacrest)...or her attempt at full time money/part time work with the purchase of "Winning in the Cash Flow Business". Yes, that would have been funnier and would have made you go right out and buy this book. (Being bloggers, you would all appreciate how she dug herself out of her financial hole). Sorry, I don't think I was supposed to add all of this additional information, but I don't always follow the rulz.
Now for the hard part...the tagging... (can I tag everyone? No? Okay...)
I choose....drum roll....
Lindsay
Katy
More Wine Please
Anniebanannie
Impulsive Addict
Business finished.
Now, on to other things...
Do you hear that? No? It's something I'm not familiar with. What IS that?
Oh, it's silence, you say? Yes, I've heard of that phenomenon.
Today is AWA Friday for me. The company I work for has Alternative Work Arrangements, so I work 9 hour days and get every other Friday off. Hubby is at work. Mini is at daycare. I have the house and TV all to myself. The Snowbeast is at my disposal, so I can toodle around town all I want today. I considered calling my genius hairstylist to possibly get a cut today (and discuss getting back to blonder cause I'm concerned about the grays I'm finding), but that was just too ambitious. As it was, I cleaned the downstairs (not sure about my motivation to do the upstairs), bought groceries, unloaded the dishwasher, got the laundry started, AND watched an episode of The City. I think that's enough for today and now I'll go downstairs, read a little Save Karyn, watch an episode of Paranormal State and eat some tuna. My furlough is dwindling. Only about 5 1/2 hrs before I go get Mini (who, by the way, woke up at 1am this morning, wanted waffles at 2 and didn't go back to sleep until 3).
TGIAWAF
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open to page 56.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 2 to 5 sentences, along with these rules.
5. Don't dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual book. Pick the CLOSEST!
6. Tag five other people to do the same!
The book nearest to me is Save Karyn by Karyn Bosnak. (Yes, it's one of my all time favorites, but I didn't have to go digging for it. I pulled it off the shelf on Monday to read for the umpteenth time just because I'm in the mood for a good laugh...) Here it is...
"The next day I woke up with a smile on my face. I got dressed for work and hopped on the bus. I was getting used to this commute. It wasn't so bad. I didn't have any cases today, so I got off a block early and went to Starbucks."
Too bad I couldn't use the page where she talks about getting her first Brazilian in a pubicle cubicle...or her encounter with Stevie Wonder where she humiliated herself by waving at him (a la Ryan Seacrest)...or her attempt at full time money/part time work with the purchase of "Winning in the Cash Flow Business". Yes, that would have been funnier and would have made you go right out and buy this book. (Being bloggers, you would all appreciate how she dug herself out of her financial hole). Sorry, I don't think I was supposed to add all of this additional information, but I don't always follow the rulz.
Now for the hard part...the tagging... (can I tag everyone? No? Okay...)
I choose....drum roll....
Lindsay
Katy
More Wine Please
Anniebanannie
Impulsive Addict
Business finished.
Now, on to other things...
Do you hear that? No? It's something I'm not familiar with. What IS that?
Oh, it's silence, you say? Yes, I've heard of that phenomenon.
Today is AWA Friday for me. The company I work for has Alternative Work Arrangements, so I work 9 hour days and get every other Friday off. Hubby is at work. Mini is at daycare. I have the house and TV all to myself. The Snowbeast is at my disposal, so I can toodle around town all I want today. I considered calling my genius hairstylist to possibly get a cut today (and discuss getting back to blonder cause I'm concerned about the grays I'm finding), but that was just too ambitious. As it was, I cleaned the downstairs (not sure about my motivation to do the upstairs), bought groceries, unloaded the dishwasher, got the laundry started, AND watched an episode of The City. I think that's enough for today and now I'll go downstairs, read a little Save Karyn, watch an episode of Paranormal State and eat some tuna. My furlough is dwindling. Only about 5 1/2 hrs before I go get Mini (who, by the way, woke up at 1am this morning, wanted waffles at 2 and didn't go back to sleep until 3).
TGIAWAF
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Let the Public Flogging Begin
Okay, so….. who watched American Idol last night? Finally, a show that doesn’t make me fall asleep at 8:30. Yes, folks, I stayed awake through the entire thing!
“Why?” you might ask. “How can this be? Is this your favorite show?”
No, I say. No it isn’t. My favorites are Lost and 24 and Ghosthunters (among others). But once I snuggle up on the couch and burrito myself in a blanket, I’m done. Finished. Gone-zo.
But you just can’t fall asleep during Idol when you get to see things you never see in real life…Ryan Seacrest attempting a high-five with a blind guy. An overly emotional “rocker”.
And this…
Michael Gurr (fast forward to about 7:50) - or just watch the whole thing to enjoy the Crying Rocker.
Anyway, about Michael Gurr....
Is it just me, or does he look very similar to creepy Todd from Wedding Crashers?
Edited to Add: STUPID YOU TUBE VIDEO IS GONE. UGH!!!!
“Why?” you might ask. “How can this be? Is this your favorite show?”
No, I say. No it isn’t. My favorites are Lost and 24 and Ghosthunters (among others). But once I snuggle up on the couch and burrito myself in a blanket, I’m done. Finished. Gone-zo.
But you just can’t fall asleep during Idol when you get to see things you never see in real life…Ryan Seacrest attempting a high-five with a blind guy. An overly emotional “rocker”.
And this…
Michael Gurr (fast forward to about 7:50) - or just watch the whole thing to enjoy the Crying Rocker.
Anyway, about Michael Gurr....
Is it just me, or does he look very similar to creepy Todd from Wedding Crashers?
Edited to Add: STUPID YOU TUBE VIDEO IS GONE. UGH!!!!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Make It Count Monday
I’m experiencing some frustrations and irritations. (A big shout-out goes to Joann Fabric for selling crappy picture wire. I really loved how the artwork that we just bought came crashing down last night at 12am. There is nothing better than picking up shards of glass at midnight and seeing lovely nicks in the canvas.) But this sort of problem is really very minor. It’s good to have “problems” like these.
And so I’ve decided to implement Make It Count Monday. You’re welcome to join in if you want. Make It Count Monday will be reserved for writing about someone I appreciate – and I’d love to read about people YOU appreciate, too (even if they don’t live in bloggyland). So, without further adieu, my first Make It Count Monday dedication goes out to…….drum roll please…..I SAID DRUM ROLL PLEASE…(that’s better)…
Lindsay!
Lindsay is one of a kind. She’s funny, loyal, hard-working, spirited, sassy, and fearless. Lindsay – or Lou-Lou as some call her! - and I became friends in the sixth grade. Because I have a steel trap for a memory, I even remember the first time I ever talked to her. It was in Ms. Hilgert’s Science class (sorry for the interruption in programming…Daily Flatulence Update…co-worker just farted again) and I told her that her daddy came and sat in my daddy’s lap at an auction at the NG Armory with an “Oh, Fred!” **That’s not my daddy’s real name, but I AM undercover you know.** Anyway, we giggled about it and the rest is history.
Our friendship grew steadily over the next couple of years, with its typical teen girl bumps and bruises (oh, boy, could we be competitive with one another!). By the time we got to high school, we were pretty much inseparable. And looking back, I know that I never would have made it without her. She knew all of my quirks and annoying habits and still liked me anyway. She knew my deepest, darkest secrets (deep and dark being relative for a good girl like me!) and never tried to blackmail me. She even shared my deep and abiding love for Joey-Joe McIntyre and NKOTB, which I secretly think is what bonded us in the first place. We accumulated many catch phrases over the years…
“Look out! Limb!”
“Does Elvis talk to you? Does he tell you to do things? Do you see…spots?”
“No weezing the ju-uice!”
…and how about this one…
“Uh-Uh, Jack, you got to CATCH ME.”
(just to name a few.)
After graduation, we both went to school at the university in our home town. Over that first year, I guess because of growing up and developing separate interests, we started growing apart. It wasn’t long before Lindsay and I weren’t a regular part of each others lives anymore. Isn’t that just what happens in life? Over the next several years, I found new friends…really great friends (one of whom will likely be the object of my next dedication!). Old friends faded away, new ones emerged. But at some point after college, Lindsay and I reconnected and our friendship picked up right where it left off. Here we are...20 years of friendship.
She’s been there with me through pretty much everything, and for that I appreciate her more than she’ll ever know. And I’m fairly certain she knows that if she wants to sit on the couch all day long and watch TV (or maybe a marathon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer – the movie! – Legend, and Flash Gordon), as a fellow couch potato and pop culture junkie, I’ll happily join her.
Lindsay is a true friend….
I wish for you all a true friend like her....one who can remember who you were, see who you are now and know that as different as you may be, you’re still really the same.
And so I’ve decided to implement Make It Count Monday. You’re welcome to join in if you want. Make It Count Monday will be reserved for writing about someone I appreciate – and I’d love to read about people YOU appreciate, too (even if they don’t live in bloggyland). So, without further adieu, my first Make It Count Monday dedication goes out to…….drum roll please…..I SAID DRUM ROLL PLEASE…(that’s better)…
Lindsay!
Lindsay is one of a kind. She’s funny, loyal, hard-working, spirited, sassy, and fearless. Lindsay – or Lou-Lou as some call her! - and I became friends in the sixth grade. Because I have a steel trap for a memory, I even remember the first time I ever talked to her. It was in Ms. Hilgert’s Science class (sorry for the interruption in programming…Daily Flatulence Update…co-worker just farted again) and I told her that her daddy came and sat in my daddy’s lap at an auction at the NG Armory with an “Oh, Fred!” **That’s not my daddy’s real name, but I AM undercover you know.** Anyway, we giggled about it and the rest is history.
Our friendship grew steadily over the next couple of years, with its typical teen girl bumps and bruises (oh, boy, could we be competitive with one another!). By the time we got to high school, we were pretty much inseparable. And looking back, I know that I never would have made it without her. She knew all of my quirks and annoying habits and still liked me anyway. She knew my deepest, darkest secrets (deep and dark being relative for a good girl like me!) and never tried to blackmail me. She even shared my deep and abiding love for Joey-Joe McIntyre and NKOTB, which I secretly think is what bonded us in the first place. We accumulated many catch phrases over the years…
“Look out! Limb!”
“Does Elvis talk to you? Does he tell you to do things? Do you see…spots?”
“No weezing the ju-uice!”
…and how about this one…
“Uh-Uh, Jack, you got to CATCH ME.”
(just to name a few.)
After graduation, we both went to school at the university in our home town. Over that first year, I guess because of growing up and developing separate interests, we started growing apart. It wasn’t long before Lindsay and I weren’t a regular part of each others lives anymore. Isn’t that just what happens in life? Over the next several years, I found new friends…really great friends (one of whom will likely be the object of my next dedication!). Old friends faded away, new ones emerged. But at some point after college, Lindsay and I reconnected and our friendship picked up right where it left off. Here we are...20 years of friendship.
She’s been there with me through pretty much everything, and for that I appreciate her more than she’ll ever know. And I’m fairly certain she knows that if she wants to sit on the couch all day long and watch TV (or maybe a marathon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer – the movie! – Legend, and Flash Gordon), as a fellow couch potato and pop culture junkie, I’ll happily join her.
Lindsay is a true friend….
I wish for you all a true friend like her....one who can remember who you were, see who you are now and know that as different as you may be, you’re still really the same.
Bush's Last Press Conference
Oh, happy day.
Is it just me, or does he look like he’s about to wag his finger back and forth and say…
“Oh, no you di-in’t.”
Is it just me, or does he look like he’s about to wag his finger back and forth and say…
“Oh, no you di-in’t.”
Friday, January 9, 2009
Foot In Mouth Disease
Today one of my male co-workers and I were at my desk talking to our boss about how we are partenered off for desk coverage. Co-worker, B, suggested that he would like to partenered up with me, but Boss Man objected, saying that I already have partner.
To which, in my infinite wisdome and thoughtfulness replied, "Can't we do a three way?"
I turned as red as the OU flag at my desk.
To which, in my infinite wisdome and thoughtfulness replied, "Can't we do a three way?"
I turned as red as the OU flag at my desk.
Dear Bob Stoops,
I'll keep this short.
I’m breaking up with you. I can no longer tolerate this abusive relationship. You do just enough to keep me hanging on, only to let me down when it matters most. And, I let you get away with it because you seem to always convince me that you’re a changed man and that in the end, you will finally pull through for me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me multiple times in bowl games over the last several years, shame on me. Next time, go for the three points so at 2 minutes left, you’ll be within a touchdown.
Oh, and Brent Venables looks like Skeletor. Please do something about that.
Sincerely,
KDK
And, now on to the stuff that makes me smile….
I got an award!!! My first one for this blog. Apparently, it’s just been sitting there for several days and I had no idea! Thank you Katy! Katy is awesome…I’ve known her since the 6th grade and just stumbled across her blog a few months ago by chance after not seeing or talking to her in, oh, probably 15 years! She’s funny, witty and, very obviously, a fantastic mom and hasn’t changed a bit from the gal I remember back in the day. My only problem is that I’m probably going to have to nominate people that have probably already received it.
So, if you’ve already been given this award, just tuck it away for a rainy day.ONCE YOU'VE BEEN AWARDED, THE RULES ARE:
1. Thank the person who was so thoughtful for giving you this award by linking their blog to this post.
2. Put the logo on your blog or post.
3. Nominate 10 blogs which show great attitude/gratitude.
4. Link your nominee to your post.
5. Comment them to tell them about the award they've won.
I nominate:
1. Dawn Dawn the Ghetto Mom. She’s a fantastic sis, even though she doesn’t blog nearly enough.
2. Kally. I can’t even remember how I found her blog, but I’m glad I did. Nice to know there’s another Okie in Orygone. I think Kally and I have been following each other since I was writing my FIRST blog, so I’m glad that I didn’t lose her when I went undercover.
3. Shannon. I have a certain order in which I read blogs and I save my favorites for last. Let’s just say, she’s one of the last. I wish I knew her IRL!!!
4. Ms. Lipstick. She’s one of the other “lasts” that I read. Love her blog and don’t usually start the day without it.
5. Lisa. I’ve been reading Lisa’s blog for a while now and am impressed by the grace with which she handles herself through the most trying situation I can imagine.
6. Coco. She’s funny, interesting and hates UT. What more could you ask for? This is one of my newest favorites, even if she is an obnoxiously proud Texan. :o)
7. Manic Mariah. Another one I’ve been following since I began blogging. Her brutally honest perspective on life is always a good read.
8. Mamalicious. Yeah, so she’s already received this award. Like, a million times. Deal with it. She’s another gal I know from good ole A-town. Her blog is the one that got me hooked!!
9. Sasha. Just don’t pronounce her name wrong! Love this blog for all the wonderful product advice. Like Holly, she’s inspired me…except she inspires me with her nails.
And last, but not least...
10. Lindsay. This gal is the most wonderful friend you could ever ask for. Only she never blogs. Ever. But, I’m going to keep giving her awards, because that’s how I roll.
I’m breaking up with you. I can no longer tolerate this abusive relationship. You do just enough to keep me hanging on, only to let me down when it matters most. And, I let you get away with it because you seem to always convince me that you’re a changed man and that in the end, you will finally pull through for me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me multiple times in bowl games over the last several years, shame on me. Next time, go for the three points so at 2 minutes left, you’ll be within a touchdown.
Oh, and Brent Venables looks like Skeletor. Please do something about that.
Sincerely,
KDK
And, now on to the stuff that makes me smile….
I got an award!!! My first one for this blog. Apparently, it’s just been sitting there for several days and I had no idea! Thank you Katy! Katy is awesome…I’ve known her since the 6th grade and just stumbled across her blog a few months ago by chance after not seeing or talking to her in, oh, probably 15 years! She’s funny, witty and, very obviously, a fantastic mom and hasn’t changed a bit from the gal I remember back in the day. My only problem is that I’m probably going to have to nominate people that have probably already received it.
So, if you’ve already been given this award, just tuck it away for a rainy day.ONCE YOU'VE BEEN AWARDED, THE RULES ARE:
1. Thank the person who was so thoughtful for giving you this award by linking their blog to this post.
2. Put the logo on your blog or post.
3. Nominate 10 blogs which show great attitude/gratitude.
4. Link your nominee to your post.
5. Comment them to tell them about the award they've won.
I nominate:
1. Dawn Dawn the Ghetto Mom. She’s a fantastic sis, even though she doesn’t blog nearly enough.
2. Kally. I can’t even remember how I found her blog, but I’m glad I did. Nice to know there’s another Okie in Orygone. I think Kally and I have been following each other since I was writing my FIRST blog, so I’m glad that I didn’t lose her when I went undercover.
3. Shannon. I have a certain order in which I read blogs and I save my favorites for last. Let’s just say, she’s one of the last. I wish I knew her IRL!!!
4. Ms. Lipstick. She’s one of the other “lasts” that I read. Love her blog and don’t usually start the day without it.
5. Lisa. I’ve been reading Lisa’s blog for a while now and am impressed by the grace with which she handles herself through the most trying situation I can imagine.
6. Coco. She’s funny, interesting and hates UT. What more could you ask for? This is one of my newest favorites, even if she is an obnoxiously proud Texan. :o)
7. Manic Mariah. Another one I’ve been following since I began blogging. Her brutally honest perspective on life is always a good read.
8. Mamalicious. Yeah, so she’s already received this award. Like, a million times. Deal with it. She’s another gal I know from good ole A-town. Her blog is the one that got me hooked!!
9. Sasha. Just don’t pronounce her name wrong! Love this blog for all the wonderful product advice. Like Holly, she’s inspired me…except she inspires me with her nails.
And last, but not least...
10. Lindsay. This gal is the most wonderful friend you could ever ask for. Only she never blogs. Ever. But, I’m going to keep giving her awards, because that’s how I roll.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The Snow Beast
I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to properly blog about Arctic Blast 2008, which occurred in the two weeks leading up to Christmas. Now, I’m all about the snow. I like it. Heck, I LOVE it. We don’t get it much up in the Great Northwest. (Just to give you an idea of what it was like, this was the biggest snow storm here in 40 years.) Now that we live in one of the higher elevations in Portland, I’m guessing we’ll be seeing it on a more regular basis. Anyhoo, after Snowmageddon 08 (great word, Kally!) I don’t need to see snow again for a long, long time. Snowmageddon even prompted us to cancel our trip up to Mt. Hood with some friends. No, no more snow for me. But, thanks.
But, I did want to share with you all my favorite part of our recent white out.
The Snow Beast.
The Something in the Glass Household is a one car family. Hubby and I work only a couple of blocks from each other downtown, we commute together, we shop together. In case it isn’t clear, we’re always together. If we have to split up for an outing, event, etc., we just use public transportation. I love our one car. It’s soooo me. Here is what it looks like:
A couple of weeks before Snowmageddon, we brought my old car home. A little over a hear ago, we sold it to my MIL because it was just sitting at our house. It’s not like it was up on blocks with the tires off or anything, but cars that sit usually just look trashy. Anyway, MIL was going to give it to hubby’s Nephew S. for him to drive when he got his license. Cut to almost a year and a half later and it’s still sitting in MIL’s garage because S. hasn’t gotten his license yet, and probably won’t for the foreseeable future. It was requested that we remove it from MIL’s garage to give her more room.
This is what it looks like, except white:
The timing of this was all very fortunate because the Pontiac is front wheel drive…and the BMW is rear wheel drive…which means the Pontiac would be the car to get us around in the snow when necessary (like for runs to the store for ice cream or late afternoon trips to Taco Bell…you know, important stuff). The Pontiac was a champ and is henceforth referred to as the Snow Beast.
Of course, no story would be complete without the caveat, so here it is… The Beast has seen better days. The driver’s side mirror was knocked off in an unfortunate accident and has been duct-taped on since being sold to MIL. And the driver’s side window seems to be broken and won’t go back up once it’s is rolled down.
So there we were, toodling around in the snow in a car with a duct-taped mirror and the window down. We had to bundle up like we were in a blizzard and cover up with multiple blankets just to stay warm. I know now what it’s like to feel very white trash. Hubby even got heckled by some lame pre-teens for driving in the snow with the window down. It doesn’t get much worse than that.
So, for the better part of two weeks, I felt like I was cruising around in the rental car from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. It was a humbling experience.
“Yeah, I know it’s not much to look at, Officer, but it’ll get you where you wanna go.”
I couldn't find a picture of that green and brown LeBaron convertible, so the trailer will have to suffice. I present for your viewing pleasure:
Planes, Tranes and Automobiles (Trailer)
But, I did want to share with you all my favorite part of our recent white out.
The Snow Beast.
The Something in the Glass Household is a one car family. Hubby and I work only a couple of blocks from each other downtown, we commute together, we shop together. In case it isn’t clear, we’re always together. If we have to split up for an outing, event, etc., we just use public transportation. I love our one car. It’s soooo me. Here is what it looks like:
A couple of weeks before Snowmageddon, we brought my old car home. A little over a hear ago, we sold it to my MIL because it was just sitting at our house. It’s not like it was up on blocks with the tires off or anything, but cars that sit usually just look trashy. Anyway, MIL was going to give it to hubby’s Nephew S. for him to drive when he got his license. Cut to almost a year and a half later and it’s still sitting in MIL’s garage because S. hasn’t gotten his license yet, and probably won’t for the foreseeable future. It was requested that we remove it from MIL’s garage to give her more room.
This is what it looks like, except white:
The timing of this was all very fortunate because the Pontiac is front wheel drive…and the BMW is rear wheel drive…which means the Pontiac would be the car to get us around in the snow when necessary (like for runs to the store for ice cream or late afternoon trips to Taco Bell…you know, important stuff). The Pontiac was a champ and is henceforth referred to as the Snow Beast.
Of course, no story would be complete without the caveat, so here it is… The Beast has seen better days. The driver’s side mirror was knocked off in an unfortunate accident and has been duct-taped on since being sold to MIL. And the driver’s side window seems to be broken and won’t go back up once it’s is rolled down.
So there we were, toodling around in the snow in a car with a duct-taped mirror and the window down. We had to bundle up like we were in a blizzard and cover up with multiple blankets just to stay warm. I know now what it’s like to feel very white trash. Hubby even got heckled by some lame pre-teens for driving in the snow with the window down. It doesn’t get much worse than that.
So, for the better part of two weeks, I felt like I was cruising around in the rental car from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. It was a humbling experience.
“Yeah, I know it’s not much to look at, Officer, but it’ll get you where you wanna go.”
I couldn't find a picture of that green and brown LeBaron convertible, so the trailer will have to suffice. I present for your viewing pleasure:
Planes, Tranes and Automobiles (Trailer)
Well, now...
Okay, now I know I declared this blog a Bummer Free Zone, but I read these two articles on CNN this morning. I know this stuff happens all the time, but to read one right after another just kind of made me sick to my stomach.
Oakland Riots A young African American kid interviewed in an iReport summed it up perfectly: “They need to start firing police officers and STOP firing teachers.”
Robbie Tolan You know what happens when you ASSume...an innocent guy gets shot and his career gets ruined.
Seriously….
WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?
Oakland Riots A young African American kid interviewed in an iReport summed it up perfectly: “They need to start firing police officers and STOP firing teachers.”
Robbie Tolan You know what happens when you ASSume...an innocent guy gets shot and his career gets ruined.
Seriously….
WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Dear Mack Brown,
So, you’ve declared your team the best in the nation. Number One, you say, no matter who wins the BCS Championship. Numero Uno, despite the fact that Utah has a stronger claim than yourself. Number One despite the fact that Sweet Pete Carroll is saying the same thing about his Trojans. What exactly is it that you makes you Number One?
Let’s just put aside the fact that the Big 12 South ended in a 3 way tie and the fact that Oklahoma beat both Texas Tech and Oklahoma State by much larger margins than you could even sniff at. Instead, let’s talk about the system that you are thumbing your nose at, now that it’s not working in your favor (believe me, you’d be singing a different tune if the Longhorns were headed to Florida tomorrow night).
You see, good or bad…the BCS system isn’t solely about winning and losing, or how much you win by, it’s also about the opponents you play and where you play them. These things can either weaken your argument for number one, or strengthen it. It’s about strategy, something that you are sorely lacking and I won’t speculate as to why (because that would make me look like an ageist).
So, let’s just look at some factors that contributed to the fact that your win over Oklahoma really did nothing for you in the end….
Who You Played: Non Conference Schedule
You played Florida Atlantic (where the hell is that?), Rice (seriously?) and Arkansas (the Razorbacks ain’t what they used to be). Here’s a little tip: Take Bob Stoops’ lead and add some serious contenders to your line up like Cincinatti, who went to the Orange Bowl, and TCU who went to the Poinsettia Bowl. Granted, it was the Poinsettia Bowl, but at least it was a bowl….AND they won. Throw in a trip to the West Coast or the Southeast. You might get a little more respect then.
Where You Played
You only took your boys out of state THREE TIMES. Three. Counting to three might seem really high to you, but trust me…it’s not. Oh, and one of those trips was to the Fiesta Bowl where you ONLY BEAT OHIO STATE BY THREE POINTS. I understand there are a lot of football games to be played in Texas, but you know what they say…variety is the spice of life. (Don’t get me started on my conspiracy theory that Texas Law only allows people to leave the state on a limited and highly regulated basis, otherwise they might realize there is a really big world out there, and – gasp! - leave…)
So, I hope this helped clear things up for you a bit. I know this might have come across as a little blunt or harsh. I’m sure you don’t have many people telling it to you straight. I’m happy to take on the role. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got much respect for you.
But you wear me out.
Sincerely,
KDK, Chief Steward
Something in the Glass Household
PS - if anyone reading this is from TX...relax. Take a deep breath, don't be offended. Oklahoma and Texas are like siblings, we can talk shit about each other, but it's all in good fun...
Let’s just put aside the fact that the Big 12 South ended in a 3 way tie and the fact that Oklahoma beat both Texas Tech and Oklahoma State by much larger margins than you could even sniff at. Instead, let’s talk about the system that you are thumbing your nose at, now that it’s not working in your favor (believe me, you’d be singing a different tune if the Longhorns were headed to Florida tomorrow night).
You see, good or bad…the BCS system isn’t solely about winning and losing, or how much you win by, it’s also about the opponents you play and where you play them. These things can either weaken your argument for number one, or strengthen it. It’s about strategy, something that you are sorely lacking and I won’t speculate as to why (because that would make me look like an ageist).
So, let’s just look at some factors that contributed to the fact that your win over Oklahoma really did nothing for you in the end….
Who You Played: Non Conference Schedule
You played Florida Atlantic (where the hell is that?), Rice (seriously?) and Arkansas (the Razorbacks ain’t what they used to be). Here’s a little tip: Take Bob Stoops’ lead and add some serious contenders to your line up like Cincinatti, who went to the Orange Bowl, and TCU who went to the Poinsettia Bowl. Granted, it was the Poinsettia Bowl, but at least it was a bowl….AND they won. Throw in a trip to the West Coast or the Southeast. You might get a little more respect then.
Where You Played
You only took your boys out of state THREE TIMES. Three. Counting to three might seem really high to you, but trust me…it’s not. Oh, and one of those trips was to the Fiesta Bowl where you ONLY BEAT OHIO STATE BY THREE POINTS. I understand there are a lot of football games to be played in Texas, but you know what they say…variety is the spice of life. (Don’t get me started on my conspiracy theory that Texas Law only allows people to leave the state on a limited and highly regulated basis, otherwise they might realize there is a really big world out there, and – gasp! - leave…)
So, I hope this helped clear things up for you a bit. I know this might have come across as a little blunt or harsh. I’m sure you don’t have many people telling it to you straight. I’m happy to take on the role. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got much respect for you.
But you wear me out.
Sincerely,
KDK, Chief Steward
Something in the Glass Household
PS - if anyone reading this is from TX...relax. Take a deep breath, don't be offended. Oklahoma and Texas are like siblings, we can talk shit about each other, but it's all in good fun...
Monday, January 5, 2009
Anatomy
Players: Mother
Child
Interior Setting – Master Bathroom
The bathtub is being filled with water. Toys floating on the surface include plastic fish as well as Thomas and Percy bathtub toys. A toddler watches the water fill from a few feet away. A vigilant mother gazes from her perch on the toilet. In stark contrast to her normal behavior, she is peeing with the door open in order to maintain her child’s safety.
Child Whatchu doin?
Mother: I’m peeing.
Child: Your penis go pee-pee?
End Scene.
And thus was our first conversation about how only boys and daddies have penises.
It brought to mind a favorite scene from a movie. If you guess it, you win. You won’t win a prize. You just win.
“Boys have a penis. Girls have a vagina.”
Child
Interior Setting – Master Bathroom
The bathtub is being filled with water. Toys floating on the surface include plastic fish as well as Thomas and Percy bathtub toys. A toddler watches the water fill from a few feet away. A vigilant mother gazes from her perch on the toilet. In stark contrast to her normal behavior, she is peeing with the door open in order to maintain her child’s safety.
Child Whatchu doin?
Mother: I’m peeing.
Child: Your penis go pee-pee?
End Scene.
And thus was our first conversation about how only boys and daddies have penises.
It brought to mind a favorite scene from a movie. If you guess it, you win. You won’t win a prize. You just win.
“Boys have a penis. Girls have a vagina.”
Friday, January 2, 2009
Goonies Never Say Die
Tonight Hubby is going to the Blazer game and I’m meeting up with my dear friend Chris, for her 30th birthday extravaganza. Because Hubby and I commute together to work, it will be necessary for someone (read: Hubby) to take the bus over to the Rose Quarter for the game.
We met for lunch at the Food Court in the mall and sat next to the fountain/indoor “pond”. Hubby and I never have cash on us. We are debit card junkies. Unfortunately, the bus doesn’t take plastic. I was rummaging through my purse for $2 to give him for the bus and was coming up with only change…and only $1.40 worth of it, to boot.
When he asked me where he was going to get the other 60 cents, I pointed to the fountain we were sitting next to and said, “Hello? There’s TONS of spare change right there.”
I told him he could play it off as a performance art piece by re-enacting a scene from Goonies.
“You see this one right here? This was MY wish. My dream. And I’m taking it back. I’m taking them all back.”
I tried to convince him you can never go wrong when invoking Corey Feldman, but he wasn’t comfortable with that idea.
So, I went to the ATM instead.
We met for lunch at the Food Court in the mall and sat next to the fountain/indoor “pond”. Hubby and I never have cash on us. We are debit card junkies. Unfortunately, the bus doesn’t take plastic. I was rummaging through my purse for $2 to give him for the bus and was coming up with only change…and only $1.40 worth of it, to boot.
When he asked me where he was going to get the other 60 cents, I pointed to the fountain we were sitting next to and said, “Hello? There’s TONS of spare change right there.”
I told him he could play it off as a performance art piece by re-enacting a scene from Goonies.
“You see this one right here? This was MY wish. My dream. And I’m taking it back. I’m taking them all back.”
I tried to convince him you can never go wrong when invoking Corey Feldman, but he wasn’t comfortable with that idea.
So, I went to the ATM instead.
Update on the Daily Flatulance Update
Okay, this whole DFU thing has given me enough material to work with that I probably won't ever write about anything else ever again. Not really, but it's tempting.
Last night, I was telling my good friend, Robert, this story. We used to work together before he decided to move to San Fran (as if he wasn't gay enough already). Anyway, we share the same since of humor and I knew he would laugh.
But he's a nurse and he confirmed what I had thought - that it probably is a medical condition. I felt bad. Until he said, "I bet it's a problem with her sphincter."
And then I started laughing all over again.
Last night, I was telling my good friend, Robert, this story. We used to work together before he decided to move to San Fran (as if he wasn't gay enough already). Anyway, we share the same since of humor and I knew he would laugh.
But he's a nurse and he confirmed what I had thought - that it probably is a medical condition. I felt bad. Until he said, "I bet it's a problem with her sphincter."
And then I started laughing all over again.
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