Monthly Archives: August 2007

Because I think it is important to have goals in life.

Goals for this glorious Labor Day weekend:

  1. Finish reading Wicked, because my self-imposed limit of 50 pages per day was shot to hell yesterday when I just couldn’t stop reading. I only have a little bit left to read and I need to know what happens.
  2. Get home before Matt tonight so he won’t be the one to haul inside the box of shoes that I ordered online the other night. Then, put them in with existing shoes in the hopes that he will not notice that there are new pairs in the mix. Have you met my new friend Endless yet? He is cheap and easy, which are good qualities to find in a website.
  3. Figure out how to survive on 2 granny smith apples, mustard, coke zero, and a few slices of (moldy) cheddar cheese, because those are the only things in our refrigerator and I hate grocery shopping. Plus, the deal is that usually I will do the grocery shopping if Matt will bring everything inside and put most of it away. I suppose it would be mean of me to make him do that when he can barely even walk (the toes, alas, are still broken and still painful).
  4. Convince Matt that he would love nothing more than to see The Nanny Diaries with me. This also involves convincing him that it’s not a chick flick.
  5. Get my Wii age down to a more respectable number. (At least it’s down from where it was when I started, which was seventy-freaking-nine.)

Have a great 3-day weekend!

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Filed under Holidays, My Sweet Babboo, Retail Therapy

And this little piggy went wii wii wii all the way home.

Last night I was upstairs reading (Wicked! I am reading Wicked because I am going to see the musical in Sept and I am so excited that I am limiting myself to 50 pages/day so that I don’t read it too fast!!) while Matt was downstairs playing with the Wii. I was kind of half asleep when he came upstairs but I was still awake enough to notice that he was carry an ice pack and a bottle of Tylenol.

When I asked him what was wrong he said that he had stubbed his toe really badly and it hurt a lot. I was satisfied with that answer and so I drifted off to sleep without asking any further questions.

That is, I drifted off to sleep until Matt’s tossing and turning and moving made it apparent that something was wrong.

“What are you doing?” I asked in a tone that may have indicated that I was less than concerned about his well being and more than concerned about my beauty sleep.

“Umm… well remember how I said I stubbed my toe? Well it was more like two toes. And they hurt REALLY BAD.”

After examining the toes in question we determined that they were 1) bruised and 2) swollen, and Dr. Google seems to think that they are likely broken or fractured. I put his foot up on pillows and got some more ice and told him that they’d hurt less if he STOPPED MOVING already and let me sleep. Then I thought about it.

“Wait. What did you stub your toe on again?”

“The coffee table downstairs.”

(Processes this for a minute.)

“Was this while you were playing Wii?”

“Maybe.”

“So you BROKE A BONE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES??????”

“Well of course it’s going to sound bad when you take it out of context like that.”

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Weekend Recap via Haiku

Saw The Bourne Ultimatum
Matt Damon is hot
And I love movie popcorn
Neighbors have a yappy dog
Bark bark bark all night
I hate them so freaking much
Wine makes everything better
Especially when
Combined with Nintendo Wii
Sunday we cleaned our pigsty
Laundry and errands
And then we watched Zodiac
I started reading Wicked
In preparation
Of seeing the musical
Now sadly it is Monday
I am back at work
Someone bring me more coffee

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High Intrigue

Last night I got home from work around 6:30; I arrived to a boyfriend who had his heart set on playing a game that we rented for the new Wii. We headed downstairs but we couldn’t figure out how to make the two player option work so we headed upstairs (around 7:30) to our office/computer room to try to make Google solve the problem. (The game is WarioWare, it turns out that the 2 player option doesn’t unlock until someone has played the game, and it also turns out that the creators of this game were on drugs. Like LOTS of drugs because there is no way someone was coming up with this shit without some kind of hallucinations.)

One of the windows in the office looks out directly over the driveway/front yard, and when we glanced out that window both of us reacted with the same phrase: What the hell? Except that hell was not the word used.

The reason for our profanity was the car parked directly in the middle of the front lawn. Do you think I am exaggerating?

car-1.jpeg

I realize that this picture really sucks (also, please ignore the white trash broken basketball hoop, it was like that when we moved it and it wasn’t exactly high on the list of things to do/fix) but it’s still clear that this is not OK, right? (Oh, I don’t know if you can see it, but that’s Matt standing by the car, looking in to see if there is anything in there.)

Also, here is a helpful diagram that I did in about 30 seconds in MS paint so excuse the fact that it is crappy:

diagram1.jpg

After we cursed a lot, we decided to go over to our neighbors and ask politely if they knew what was going on. (In case you don’t know, we live in a duplex, and I really don’t like the people who live on the other side. We also share the driveway with the other house that you see on the diagram, but that yard area is our property.) The woman who lives there answered the door and said she had no idea who the car belonged to. I was surprised because they have done some pretty stupid stuff in the past (too lazy to link, but there are some posts about it around here somewhere) but we said OK and headed over to the other house.

The people in the other house were just as annoyed as we were and since they are very quiet and nice and not at all like our other asshat neighbors we had never suspected them in the first place. However, there is an older woman who lives there who I know keeps an eye on everything that goes on (nosy nosy) so I thought she might have seen something. And sure enough, she swore that she had seen the person from the car go into the asshat neighbor’s house.

At this point Matt and I didn’t really know what to do, but I was definitely conjuring images of what might lurk in the car. (Bodies in the trunk! Clearly I have seen a few too many episodes of Law and Order.) We went back to our house and tried to figure out the best approach. We had been talking the whole time about calling the police but we weren’t sure if we should do that. We were also pretty sure that our neighbors were lying but we didn’t really know how to handle that.

Then we figured, let’s go over to our neighbor’s and tell them that since they don’t know who the car belongs to, and the other neighbors don’t either, we’re going to call the police. That way, either they have to admit that they lied, or they are going to have to figure out what to do when the police get there. We assumed they’d play dumb and admit it once we went over there, but instead they were all, “Yeah, sure you can call the police.” So I did.

I called the non-emergency number and the woman who answered kept asking me if the car was parked on the lawn. Yes, it is, that’s what I said the first two times. I gave her the license plate number of the car and she said someone would be out in a few minutes.

Matt and I sat in the living room, waiting for either someone to go out to the car or for the police to arrive, when we saw the headlights of the car go on. We were out the door in about 2 seconds, but the car was already speeding down the driveway too fast for us to see much. We had no idea where the people came from, but it looked like two guys in the car.

The police dude came about 2 minutes after that, talked to us quickly, said he had run the plates and that we should report anything else that happened. He was so bored with the whole thing that he was yawning while talking to us. Thanks. I feel safe now.

So basically, there are two options here:

1. Our neighbors lied to us, they definitely knew who the car belonged to, and for whatever reason they think it is perfectly acceptable to tear up the lawn and lie to us. This makes sense because they have done asshole things before (including letting people park on the grass, although not usually in the direct center of that part of the lawn) and because it was pretty suspicious timing that the car had been there for over 2 hours but as soon as we told them we were calling the police it was out of there. Hmmm.

2. There really was a strange car parked there and no one knows why or who it belonged to. Someone was trespassing on our property for an unknown purpose. This might be true because our neighbors seemed like they were telling the truth when they said they didn’t know who it belonged to.

Now, if it seems like I am overreacting, think about how either of those options would make you feel. Either we are living next to people who would pull an asshole stunt and then lie about it, or some creep was on our property without our permission. Neither is appealing and I feel perfectly justified in calling the police and making a report. I’m pissed and to be perfectly honest, I’m a little freaked out.

This is probably the longest and most rambling post in blog history, but I feel the need to publish anyway. Hopefully you can see past the mudane details to realize that it was quite the interesting night in our household as the neighbor-saga continues (I think. Unless they were telling the truth.)

Any advice on what we should/could do? I don’t think there is much, but you can be damn sure I’ll be buying some flood-lights this weekend.

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Filed under Home Sweet Home

Like a bat

When I was in first grade, my teacher pulled my mom aside one day. “I don’t think your daughter can see the blackboard. You should probably take her to the eye doctor.”

When questioned by my parents, I refused to admit that I was having trouble seeing. “Oh, those walls? I just walk into them for FUN. Yeah. Bruises are cool.” Unfortunatly for me, my parents were wise to my 6 year old ways and dragged a very sullen me to what had to be the meanest eye doctor ever. He concluded that my genetic destiny was indeed coming to fruition (both parents have horrible vision) and somehow, neither he nor my parents stopped me from picking out the ugliest frames in the entire world for my new glasses.

(Thick. Plastic. Bright pink. And the fact that even at age 6 I needed coke bottle lenses didn’t help.)

Well, despite everyone’s efforts to convince me that glasses were cool, I wasn’t buying any of it. I frequently refused to wear my glasses, and actually for the first 6 weeks of second grade my teacher didn’t even know I wore glasses because I never had them on. It didn’t help that everytime I actually DID wear them, I couldn’t see anyway – my prescription was changing so fast that I was getting new lenses every 2 months or so.

I distinctly remember being a butterfly in the 2nd grade class play, and on the night of the big show, in the excitement of putting on my tissue paper/coat hanger wings and carefully applying glitter makeup to my face, I forgot my glasses at home. (Whether I ‘forgot’ or actually truly forgot is up for debate.)

When it was my turn to go on stage with all the other pretty butterflies, I turned and walked directly into the wall. I then wobbled on stage, head spinning and wing slightly crumpled from the impact, to a very blurry world. After that I wore my glasses somewhat regularly.

But, my prescription was still changing. My eye doctor (not the same mean one but a much nicer one) suggested to my parents that contacts might help to slow it down. (I have no idea why he suggested this or if there was any truth to this.) In my mind, this was a VERY. GOOD. IDEA. In my parents’ mind, there was wariness but a willingness to give it a try.

And so, a few weeks before my 8th birthday, I was sitting in a room in the eye doctor’s office, trying to put in my brand new contacts. I can only think of two complete days since then that I have worn glasses all day. My hatred for glasses is strong – I am one with the contacts.

My vision continues to be terrible. (I inherited both my mother’s extreme near-sightedness and my father’s astigmatism, so what can I say.) However, it has gotten to a point where my prescription doesn’t change as frequently. Although, every once in a while I will realize that I can’t see a damn thing anymore. This is precisely what happened about a week ago.

It started when Matt and I and Liz and Matt were on our way to the Philly Zoo. I was driving and Liz was navigating and it’s a good thing she’s a good navigator because I couldn’t see those signs for shit. Then, on our drive home from NJ Matt was quizzing me – “See that sign? Tell me when you can read it.” Usually I would finally be able to make out the words when we were about .2 seconds away from the sign. Not good.

Now, I will say that my vision is much worse in certain circumstances. When it is dark out, for example, I have a really hard reading things, which I’m told has something to do with astigmatism and the way light hits my eyes. But for the past few days I’ve been noticing that I just can’t see anything. The world has been in a blur not unlike that effect in Photoshop that I think is called Gausian Glaze (or something like that, you know which one I mean). While it, in a way, makes certain things look more tolerable (food from the work caf, the snarling face of a certain co-worker, Excel spreadsheets that make my eyes glaze over anyway) it’s probably not all that conducive to my general well-being or desire not to have the forehead wrinkles of an octogenarian.

So, I guess it’s off to the eye doctor for me, where hopefully he will tell me that I am an excellent candidate for Lasik surgery (fat chance, with my high prescription and high astigmatism which means thin little corneas for me) and oh, by the way, it’s free today, and we’ll even knock you out while we do it and you will dream of puppies and unicorns and wake up pain free with perfect vision.

I guess that’s too much to hope for but as long as I don’t have to ever wear pink plastic glasses again that’s good enough for me.

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N to the J

Oh boy, I have so much to tell you all about my trip to New Jersey. But first, can I tell you what I just did? As in just did less than 10 minutes ago and my face is still red from the embarrassment? (And also from sunburn from the previously mentioned NJ trip, but more about that later.)

So, my responsibilites at work changed recently and now I am working on a new (huge) project (with lots of responsibility and visibility and other business sounding words) which means that I work with this guy who is both incredibly smart and incredibly nice, while also being  incredibly intimidating to me (probably because of the smart and the nice). So I walk into his office with Co-worker and we notice that he has a new lamp, one of those ones that is tall with the bowl-like shade, like this one. Co-worker comments that the lamp should be turned ON, as lamps usually are, and Very Smart Man says that it takes a special bulb and he doesn’t have any of that kind of light bulb.

So I, trying to be nice, say that I have a lamp that takes special light bulbs, and I happen to have some at my desk, and let me just check to see what kind of bulb it is, and because the lamp is tall I have to lean it down so that I can peer into the top and that is when the (heavy) (glass) cover falls off. And shatters. On me.

In case you are not getting the picture, let me reiterate that not only have I now broken this man’s new lamp, but the glass shattered because of the force with which it hit my body. (Um, ouch.) It did not merely fall to the floor and shatter. And there is now glass EVERYWHERE. And I am so freaking embarrassed. Luckily, other than deep shame, I experienced no further injury, and hopefully the glass shards will come out of his carpet. Oops.

So anyway. New Jersey. Was awesome. The end.

Oh, but I kid. It was awesome though. We left on Wednesday night and made very good time getting to Liz’s house. We hung out for a while before giving in to exhaustion and calling it a night.

On Saturday, we went to the Philly Zoo, where we saw:

lion.jpeg

 Lions!

tigers.jpeg

 Tigers! (And even tiger cubs, which are pretty darn cute.)

elephant.jpeg

And… well, I didn’t get a picture of any bears. But here’s one of an elephant.

It was fun and a great day to see the animals, since apparently they are happy when it is overcast and drizzly. Actually, we were too, because when the sun actually did come out, it was hot as balls. Luckily we were pretty much ready to leave at that point.

On Friday, we went to the beach.

beach.jpeg

Guess what color I am now! I’ll give you a hint: it’s not tan. It’s my own fault though, for being a jackass about reapplying. We walked really far down the beach, far away from where the sunblock was, and while I could have stopped and shelled out 20 bucks for some new, overpriced sunblock, I remained stubborn and frugal. And now I am paying for it. With PAIN.

On Saturday, Matt and I stuffed ourselves in a local Jersey diner, and then we hung out with Liz and Matt a little more before they had to head for the airport. We hit the road at that point, and remember when I said that we made really good time on the way down? Yeah, no so much on the way back. Let’s just say that the GW bridge can officially bite me and our original prediction of getting home at 6:45 became 9:45 which equals OMG GET ME OUT OF THIS CAR NOW. But we made it, and we spent Sunday relaxing and doing various chores and now it is Monday and I am back at this hellhole my place of employment.

The trip was awesome. If I had one complaint though (besides the traffic on the way home, and the sunburn, and the fact that I cut the bottom of my foot at the beach) it would be that Matt wasn’t exactly as social as I would have liked him to be. I feel like Liz and her Matt didn’t really get to know him, which dissapoints me because I really wanted them to know him and like him and see what I see in him. I certainly don’t think that they disliked him, and I should know by now that he does not deal well with new people, and it takes him a while to warm up to people, and I’m not trying to change him, but… but… it made me a little bit sad. Especially because he has thrown me in a million situations with his family and friends where I have fended for myself and been social and ended up having a good time and getting to know people – I wish he could have done the same. But like I said, I’m not going to change him, so I need to accept it and hope that Liz and Matt saw that he really is nice and smart and funny underneath an initially antisocial attitude.

If there was one high point of the trip, it was when Liz and I had a few minutes to sneak upstairs and read old notes from high school. We were champion note passers and we found some real gems. It was especially interesting to decipher the codes and nicknames that we used – I remember thinking that I would never forget all of our nicknames for people but wouldn’t you know it took me a good 5 minutes to remember who “The Commie” was. Oh, we were so mature. But clearly I haven’t grown up at all since I found it to be freaking hilarious.

Good times. Good times.

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Tomorrow! Tomorrow! (Must sing title, Annie-style.)

Today I am at work and it is boring and I stubbed my toe getting out the tub and now I have a bruise on my toe which is weird and then later I am getting a haircut and then going home to play Wii and work out and watch some crappy TV and maybe read too but none of that matters because today is boring but tomorrow! Tomorrow I get to see Liz.

Tomorrow Matt and I are driving down to New Jersey, to the town that Liz and I grew up in. She will be there visiting her family and I took this as a sign that I should go pretend that I am part of their family like I did in high school. Luckily Liz thinks that this is a good idea too and so she won’t mind when I show up and demand that we play board games and braid each other’s hair just like we did in high school (except that now we are old enough to drink wine).

This will also be the first time that we meet each other Matts. (Yes, her fiance’s name is Matt, too.) I kind of feel like I already know her Matt from the descriptions that she has given, and I bet she feels like she knows my Matt both from talking to me and from reading this blog. But that won’t stop me from giving him the hairy eyed once over to make sure that he is good enough for my Liz.

I hope the Matts like each other but I’m really not even sure it will matter since they’ll both be too dazzled by the power that is the Liz and Rebecca combination to think of anything else. I’m sure we’ll all get along splendidly though, and anyone who looks as though he/she is not having a good time will be fixed right up with a glass of wine and possibly a new braid in his/her hair.

We are planning to go to the Philly Zoo at some point, which is very exciting to Matt because he grew up in Massachusetts where the only zoos are L.A.M.E. (Seriously – one lion? And some crappy birds?) We are also planning to go the Jersey shore – originally Matt balked at this because neither of us particularly love the beach, but then I explained to him that the Jersey shore is not like any other beach and it is entirely possible to amuse yourself for an entire day without ever setting foot in sand or water. There will be arcades! And mini-golf! And crappy little shops to go into and make fun of their crappy little merchandise!

I am so excited to see Liz, and to meet her Matt, and also to see Liz’s family, especially her mom. (She’s a really great lady and when I tell Liz that she is turning into her mother I always mean it as a really good compliment.) Basically, it will be 100% pure awesomeness.

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