Friday, July 28, 2006wearing. I got rid of a large brown bag's worth (to be dropped off at Goodwill this weekend) and it feels pretty good.
So when I got dressed for work this morning I decided to wear something other than the same 2 rotating bras that I wear on a daily basis. I have quite a bit more than 2 bras in my underwear drawer and I need to use them. I pulled out a lacy number that my mom gave me years ago and was quite pleased by the perkiness factor looking back at me in the mirror. Off to work I went (after putting clothes on, thank you very much).
Now I remember why that bra was lying in the drawer for so long. It makes noise when I move. A lot of noise. I just reached across the keyboard with my right hand to get the pen on my desk and a giant SQUUUUEEEEEAKKKKKK came out of my right armpit. (Underwire plus some kind of funky fabric makes weird noises.) Lovely. It's a regular cacophony when I flap my arms like a chicken. I had to tell my suite-mate that my bra was making noises today and it's not because I have fake boobs, I swear. Which lead to laughing and her longing to have larger breasts (a feeling I do not share) and an inflatable bra. We thought this would be a cool invention for the bust-challenged and I suggested that it be manually operated on each side (for the lopsided amongst us) so I immediately turned around and googled "inflatable bra" to see if it had been invented yet. Damn, it has, but it's a little outdated and pointy, methinks. This one is a bit better.
I've come to the conclusion that this rambunctious bra needs to go into the brown bag of castaways pronto and that I need a better fitting bra. What brand is your favorite? I've been buying Victoria's Secret for a few years but am not convinced they're that great. [I need good, long-lasting quality and a good, supportive fit. Smooth is preferred to lacy bumps. Anyone tried the Wacaol or Chantelle that Bitch Ph.D. talks about?) |
Thursday, July 27, 2006
(Cue scary music and door knob rattling here.)
Okay, not really, but I have had two people contact me out of the blue lately.
The first one googled my (real) name and found my email AT WORK. It really was more of a surprise than freaky though because I used to know her. It had been 11 years since I saw, heard, or thought about her. I know that sounds harsh, but it was a long time ago and I've sinced moved geographically and ideologically. See, I knew her back when I lived in Washington and was a hard-core, tongue-talking Pentacostal*. Since I've shed that past life and all the baggage that comes with it (guilt, shame, self-aggrandizement, othering, moral superiority, etc.), I naturally have not been in cahoots with my former fundy freinds. So it was a surprise to receive an email out of the blue from a ghost of my past. Not that I harbour ill feelings for her at all, quite the contrary; she was one of the only other young people (I was 18 at the time) caught up in that new lifestyle with me. She wrote me to say hello and to tell me that she had thought about me over the years and wondered what I was up to. She also told me that she now has 5 (FIVE!) kids and did Huz and I have any? I quickly responded to her email telling her that it was great to hear from her and how surprised I was to receive her email, how I couldn't believe she had 5 kids and that Huz and I dont' have any yet because we've been in school since then, where we are now and what we're doing, etc.
Want know how that stalking episode ended? With my response email. Yep. I took the time to be all surprised, to remember the past, who she was (and who I was when she knew me), and to respond to her email filling her in on my life as it is now. And she never responded. Nice.**
My second stalker found me via my blog and also knew me from before. She found Through My Lens via a friend's blog and started reading my rants. She recognized me from a party a year ago and secretly read about me, my marriage, and my cats (and all the other stuff I dump on this here public space) for quite some time before contacting me. She emailed me and told me she thought she had met me at a school party and that she loved my pictures (way to compliment yourself into my heart!) and maybe could we have coffee some time? Sure, I said. I'm always up for meeting new people and making more friends.
We've gotten together a few times and now I've really gotten myself into trouble. Not that she's not cool or anything, she is, but I'm scheduled to teach her how to cook this weekend. What!? I'm no chef! I can't teach you how to cook! Okay, maybe I can, though I'm no self-acclaimed chef or baker extraordinare. Got that? Okay, glad we're clear.
Having established that, I do need to brag about using the grill for the first time - all by myself - a few weeks ago. It was a hit***. I lit the coals, waited until they got hot and ashy, dumped them into the grill (well, okay, I asked Huz to do that part), and made a fantabulous dinner.
Behold, girl meets grill, thank you very much:
Grilled Chicken with a citrus tarragon sauce:
Served with an heirloom tomato and fresh mozzarella salad:
We ended this meal with some homemade Strawberry Margarita popsicles that Huz and I made (too bad I could only find these cheesy sippy cup molds at Target, huh?****):
*Betcha didn't know that about me, did you? Alas, it's true.
**And, no, I didn't even tell her that I was no longer a Pentecostal or holy roller. Maybe she picked it up in my story; I'm not sure.
***Get this - I've been married 11 years and Huz said that this was probably the best meal I've ever made. Dude!
****Why does Target.com have more stuff than the actual store!? I just ordered a great popsicle mold that an adult can use with dignity. |
Wednesday, July 26, 2006these.
The ad demonstrates how wonderful it is to buy ten of these frozen striped wonders and heat them in the microwave the next time you throw a party.
Yeah, right. If that's your idea of good food to serve friends, remind me to forgo that fiesta. |
Monday, July 24, 2006friends. As many times as we've hit the road in a UHaul, this could have easily happened to us.
I'm so glad to find out that it doesn't just happen to me.
A post about my middle sister.
It was pretty nasty to peek down into it, but I just had to. It grossed me out so badly that I took off running and ended up on my street. I think Huz just shook his head at me.
This makes me feel a little better about the size of my bathroom even though mine's got ugly terra cotta-wanna-be tile all over it. Oh, and it relieves me to know that I'm not the only one who anthropomorphizes everything. |
Sunday, July 23, 2006
As you can see, the tomato plant quickly outgrew the tiny foot and a half long stakes I initially put around it. I put a wire cage around it next, but after this weekend's windy storms it got knocked over twice (I was more upset about this than I should have been but it's my first garden and I was so proud of it actually having tomatoes growing on it; also I anthropomorphize everything so it wasn't just "a plant" that was going to die, it was "Tom!") so I ran to Home Depot to get 6 foot bamboos stakes this time. I also gave it a trim (a lot of leaves and non-fruit bearing limbs went bye-bye so that it's not so heavy now), so I think it's going to survive. Good thing, cuz I can't wait to try these babies out.
You may also notice that the cilantro plant that was initially planted in the center of the garden is gone. They don't last long before flowering and turning into coriander, which we have no use for, so I yanked it out yesterday. I also added a rosemary plant because I make a mean rosemary and red onion foccacia.
The basil and parsley are doing well.
And the mint is going nuts. I've made several pitchers of mint iced tea so far and need more mint ideas. Got any?
Friday, July 21, 2006| Stace and Sean on your brand new little girl, Ever! :) |
Thursday, July 20, 2006this. It made me embarrassed because I've realized how impatient we as a society (this includes me) are. We want what we want and we want it now, no holds barred. Feel like going out for a burrito even though the refrigerator is full of food? Then go to Baja Burrito without a thought. Only 19 years old but want a baby? Hasn't happened immediately? Just go to the Dr. and get yourself a nice, fat dosage of Clomid. No problem.
We've got a BandAid for everything in our society because we're convinced that we have a right to everything and we deserve it RIGHT NOW. I am preaching to myself here as much as to anyone because, as you know, I am only (it is only, right!?) 30 and just got off the Pill after 11 years and find myself worried that I haven't started ovulating after only 3 measly months. I know it's silly to worry this soon and the article only made me realize it all the more.
If it happens, it happens. If not, we'll figure it out then. Does this lack of fierce desire mean that I don't really want children? Does it show that if I did conceive I wouldn't deserve it or that I wouldn't be a good mom? Is there something wrong with me because I wouldn't pay thousands of dollars to get infertility treatments - both because I can't afford it and because I don't have a burning desperation to be a mother? (I mean, I want a child and I want to be a mother, but I don't feel desperate about it or that my entire identity rests upon it, you know?) |
Monday, July 17, 2006this, but I wasn't. Even though I googled it until my fingers hurt, there was no evidence that anyone else had tried this out there (or maybe they tried it and utterly failed like I did. Ahem.), but I just had to. Tired of the River Neville on my kitchen floor every day, I went to PetSmart to give it a try.
But, alas, cats are not hamsters. Not that they aren't smart enough to learn, mind you, but it is my opinion that they are just SO intelligent and autonomous (take THAT dog lovers!) that they just plain REFUSE to learn. There's a difference, I swear.
Here are my sad attempts to get them to use a water bottle.
Neville was like, "Yeah, I see that this is a bottle that has water in it..."
"...but I'm more interested in my food, thanks."
Cambie had to get it pointed out to her.
But didn't do much more than this one sniff on her own.
Oh well. Neville is enjoying his daily splashy pool time in the kitchen and then his drink from the bathroom sink. (Cool water droplets, eh?)
Thursday, July 13, 2006
He was like, "are you SURE!?" And then went to town with the razor.
He showed me what he'll eventually look like if he continues to loose hair. I was laughing so hard that I had tears coming out of my eyes and the camera was shaking.
I think it's funny how he got the same facial expression shaving as I do when I put on makeup.
Anyway, I wasn't so sure at the beginning, but I think the end result is HAWT.
He has a nice shaped head, don't you think?
(Oh and can you see my cool Chicago poster that I framed and matted myself [thank you very much]? I'm loving it.)
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
I'm covered with bug bites. A couple of weeks ago I took 3 minutes tops to water the garden (which I need to show you pictures of - it's doing great!) and got about a dozen mysterious bites on my thighs and hips (I was wearing shorts and a tanktop) that ARE STILL THERE. Then I went on a run last night and came home sporting 4 more fresh, swollen bites on the back of my knee.
Give me a break bugs! I know I'm tasty, but leave me alone for a while! Try Huz out for a change! |
Friday, July 7, 2006
2. Going to a restaurant and sitting outside on a warm summer night
3. Drinking wine (for me) and beer (for Huz) while chatting over loud music
4. Eating yummy pizza with a slightly sweet crust (I love this place!)
5. Giving Huz a strip tease to a John Lee Hooker song (listen to #15)
What's a good date night look like for you? |
Thursday, July 6, 2006
What an unbelievable deal! A gorgeous green-eyed, soft as cotton grey-haired ten (or twelve) pound ball of love for FREE! In addition, you get chewed up flip-flops, a dining room chair with teeth-marks puncturing the seat cushion, and a coffee table with two corners gnawed right off. Oh, and you get a sopping wet floor because he thinks he has to use his big, shovel-like paws to drink.
Seriously, though. I'd never part with my little boy, but the other stuff? Annoying. The drinking by scooping out bucket-loads of water has gotten really bad lately. We know Neville's drinking when he hear the major swimming pool splashes from the kitchen. I've tried placing plastic placemats under the water dishes but they just end up getting soaking wet underneath. Then I bought trays to literally catch the puddles, which works pretty well, but the floor is still getting wet and I have to dump the trays into the sink every day. Then it's back to more swim-time action for Nevsie. *sigh*
I'm seriously considering trying to train him and Cambridge to use this.
Wednesday, July 5, 2006
I was feeling very sluggish after this crazy, long nap of mine, so I brewed myself some joe. Only one cup, mind you, but it's enough so screw me up. I knew this would happen; I can't have coffee after like 3p.m. or I'm up at 1a.m. Yeesh.
So here I am. In the study with only the companionship of a curious or shitting cat (they're visiting me on a rotating basis and the catbox is right next to me - who knew that 12:39a.m. is prime shitting time!?) and my BRIGHT, BRIGHT laptop.
*How can some people take naps (you know that annoying term: "Power Nap") and feel refreshed afterwards? I know it's supposed to be 15 minutes for this to happen, but a.) how can you only sleep for 15 minutes and b.) how do you feel refreshed and not more tired like I do? Granted, I did sleep for 2 freakin' hours, but still.
Regarding my previous entry, I'm not hugely stressing about the ovulation thing, but it is on my mind. I don't pace around wringing my fingers about it and I don't pull my hair into little sections and twirl it around and around on my finger (like my little sister used to do). But, I think about it. It's almost as if I don't know how to function unless I have something to worry about. Watch me. I can make a list of worry right now:
Victoria's 12:52a.m. List of Worry
1. Cambridge's eye is cloudy and has a growth on it. Her antibiotic drops have done nothing to make it go away. Taking her to an eye specialist with probably be expensive, as he/she will likely suggest surgery and we've already spent $2,000 on her abdominal surgery just last summer. But I love her and I want to take care of her. Sigh.
2. My basal temperatures aren't spiking and, thus, I'm not ovulating. (Yes, I've only been off the Pill for almost 3 months. Chill out, Victoria! You were on that thing for 11 years; it's natural that your body will take time to get back to normal.)
3. The wasps that keep getting into the study will still be alive and kicking, despite our best efforts to kill them with spray, whenever we do have a baby and the study will be his/her room. The wasp will sting the baby and the baby will have to be rushed to the hospital. (This is an example of future worry. Like, way, way, way into the future kind of worry.)
4. Huz (or Zuh as I like to type) won't get a teaching job once he finishes his Ph.D. and he'll be the smartest, most over-qualified Kinko's manager in the world. (Okay, so I'm not realistically worried that he won't get a teaching job because he's wicked smart, people, but I am worried that it may take a while and what (what I ask you?) are we to do until he gets one?)
5. What will I do when our friends Thunder and Emily buy a house and move farther than a block away? What about if Lydia and Patrick, who live upstairs from them, move away too? I won't have any friends close by that I can just walk over and visit. That will suck.
6. What if I never figure out what career path to take? What if I get stuck in the corporate 9-5 for the rest of my life and never feel challenged or fulfilled? That will suck too.
7. I need to start working out more consistently. With the idea that I'll soon be getting fat and pregnant in my head, I've found it difficult to stay motivated in the running/weight lifting department. That, and it's freakin' hot and humid here (I hate the hot, hot heat) and running after work is laughable at best.
And there you have an example of all the worries swirling around in my head. Now if only I could siphon some off and store them in a pensieve, that would be awesome. |
Sunday, July 2, 2006
When I got engaged back at 18, I remember thinking that I'd die before I actually got married; that I wouldn't be able to experience that new wonder of life. Obviously, I didn't die.
Then after I was married for almost a year, Huz and I prepared for a big move from Washington to Louisiana. Again, I thought I'd die in a car accident or something before experiencing that grand, new adventure. Needless to say, this didn't happen either.
Now that I'm starting to prepare for yet another exciting new stage of life, I have my doubts and irrational thoughts. Will we be able to conceive? What if I have an ectopic pregnancy? What if I have a miscarriage? What if we're sterile? What if I'm a bad mother? What if we can't really afford a child? What if...? The list goes on. The biggest one, though, is am I ovulating? I started charting my basal temperature about 2 months ago and I'm freaking out a bit because I have yet to see a real, definitive spike in temperature that indicates ovulation (progesterone causes the body temperature to rise, thus this is the tell-tall sign that ovulation has occurred). I'm well aware that the Pill can prevent ovulation from occurring for weeks, months, or even years in some women. I'm also aware that we haven't really even been trying yet, but I'm charting so I can see how my body works so that when we do, we can effectively "try." I know most say, "Oh, just have fun and it'll happen," but I don't know if that's true.
ARGHH. There I go again with the negativity. What is my problem!? Why can't I take life in stride, open my eyes to the positive things, and just be content? I hope that my concern and my irrational thoughts (at least I don't think I'm going to die this time) about this aren't causing my temperatures not to spike.
I need to learn to rest and to just...be. Deep breath. |