My Santa dress is now about three sizes too big and it may be
inoperable. Cross your fingers for me, Internet.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Problem:
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Fatshions
I present to you, DRESS SHOPPING WITH ELIZABETH!
My friend Alyssa is getting married on New Year's Eve and my brother is getting married on New Year's Day. Therefore, I need TWO dresses because:
A. What if I spill on NYE?
B. Facebook will know that I wore the same dress two days in a row, and I can't have THAT!
Soooo, I've been on the lookout for dresses for a month or so and have found four that I like and have been able to narrow those down to TWO. Perfect! Now my only problem is in deciding which to wear to Alyssa's wedding and which to wear to my brother's wedding. I thought I knew but then my mom LOVES the dress I was going to wear to Alyssa's wedding so I just don't know.
So here they are, in order of how much I like them...
This one is being returned, so don't tell me that you love it:
It is fun and gold and has a FRINGE! But it's also a bit too sausagey and not as pretty as the two winners.
Also being returned:
It was better than option #1, but still not a winner. I did like the gold and black burnout though:
THIS is the dress I want to wear to my brother's wedding:
I love the fabric and the cut and it's just totally awesome. I'd *prefer* that it was a v-neck instead of that boat neck so I might see if a tailor can fix that for me, but if not, I like it enough as-is.
I really didn't think I'd like this one and that it wouldn't flatter me, but I tried it on and WHOA! I kinda like it! And it has sleeves!
It's hard to see the ruffles in that picture but LOOK HOW CUTE:
So now I have until December 31st to make up my mind...
(And OMG YOU GUYS THOSE DRESSES ARE IN SIZES I HAVEN'T SEEN IN YEARS!!!)
My friend Alyssa is getting married on New Year's Eve and my brother is getting married on New Year's Day. Therefore, I need TWO dresses because:
A. What if I spill on NYE?
B. Facebook will know that I wore the same dress two days in a row, and I can't have THAT!
Soooo, I've been on the lookout for dresses for a month or so and have found four that I like and have been able to narrow those down to TWO. Perfect! Now my only problem is in deciding which to wear to Alyssa's wedding and which to wear to my brother's wedding. I thought I knew but then my mom LOVES the dress I was going to wear to Alyssa's wedding so I just don't know.
So here they are, in order of how much I like them...
This one is being returned, so don't tell me that you love it:
It is fun and gold and has a FRINGE! But it's also a bit too sausagey and not as pretty as the two winners.
Also being returned:
It was better than option #1, but still not a winner. I did like the gold and black burnout though:
THIS is the dress I want to wear to my brother's wedding:
I love the fabric and the cut and it's just totally awesome. I'd *prefer* that it was a v-neck instead of that boat neck so I might see if a tailor can fix that for me, but if not, I like it enough as-is.
I really didn't think I'd like this one and that it wouldn't flatter me, but I tried it on and WHOA! I kinda like it! And it has sleeves!
It's hard to see the ruffles in that picture but LOOK HOW CUTE:
So now I have until December 31st to make up my mind...
(And OMG YOU GUYS THOSE DRESSES ARE IN SIZES I HAVEN'T SEEN IN YEARS!!!)
Monday, November 23, 2009
Mrs. Sean
Okay so Walkera and I FINALLY made it to Mission Street Food, a showcase type thing for up and coming chefs. They hold it twice a week in a Chinese dive in the Mission and proceeds go to charity, blah blah blah. Saturday night was an international twist on the standard American Thanksgiving dinner so Walkera and I enjoyed the following:
French Onion French Dip: turkey confit, duck fat-onions and gruyere fondue on acme roll, served with turkey jus
Turkish Turkey: smoked, fried and za'atar dusted wings, served with tzatziki and salad of pear, celery, feta, and cranberry
Dirty South Stuffing: cornbread, collards, ham hocks, giblets
Mashed Potato with Beef Mole
Sake-Mirin Creamed Corn
Szechuan Green Bean Casserole
Lung Shan's Vegan Delight: shitake and oyster mushroom dumplings in miso soup
Six of our seven courses:
And for dessert we had bourbon & corn flake ice cream (breakfast flavor) and a delicious little baby pumpkin pie with orange flavored cream, which has inspired me to try adding a teeny bit of orange blossom water to my whipped cream for Thanksgiving.
It was all really good and we definitely plan to return and would recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind eating from the same plates as your dining companions or sharing tables with strangers. Plus, $5 corkage, we love you.
So all that is fine and good and we'd do it again but it was made even better because OMG WE HAD AWESOME TABLE COMPANIONS! One in particular, but I'll get to him in a minute...
We were seated with two SF hippie types in knitted hat-type-things. We thought they were a couple but they mentioned working together and she mentioned being married but he mentioned being polyamorous so really, all bets were off. He was VERY tall and kinda cute in a looks-like-he-lives-Burning-Man-style-365-days-a-year kind of way (i.e., NOT my flavor) and he told us that they didn't order everything on the tasting menu (like we did, oink) because the last time he did that, his date dumped him at the table so he thought it was bad luck. I'm pretty sure Walkera wouldn't dump me over creamed corn and green bean casserole so I wasn't worried about this bad juju.
He also said that The Slanted Door (a fancy Vietnamese-ish restaurant) was bad luck because he'd been dumped there and he'd also dumped someone there. Noted. Except really dude? How are we defining these "break ups"? When he went to pay the bill I asked his married lady friend if she thought he thought a break up was necessary after maybe only a few dates because otherwise? That's a lot of girlfriends! I don't remember her exact answer but I do remember thinking that he seemed overly eager to think things needed "breaking up" when perhaps a mutual fizzle would be more appropriate and less dramatic.
So they left and a handsome young man came to wipe down their half of the table and we joked with him that if he didn't mind, I'd like to put in a request for our next table mates to be two single, handsome, straight and tall men. He laughed and just then the hostess came by and he told her that we had a request. She gave it some thought and then 60 seconds later she brought us almost exactly what we ordered -- two handsome, straight and tall men.
We laughed and said "PERFECT!" The gentleman we'd later ADORE walked up, saw me and Walkera and said "PERFECT!" The hostess looked pleased with herself.
So there we were, smushed around a tiny table with two handsome men. Jamie was probably the more traditionally handsome one and he was roommates with one of the waitresses so he was a Mission Street Food regular and definitely seemed to be popular with the staff in general. Jamie was also a cocky shit.
But Sean....ohhhhhhhhhhhh Seaaaaaaaan. He isn't AT ALL my type or Walkera's type but holy hell -- he turned us into giddy school girls and we spent the whole ride home discussing exactly what it was about him that made us melt.
(Note to Walkera: He had a bite of our ice cream when you were in the bathroom. I think that means we're engaged now, FYI.)
Gentlemen, here's a tip:
Sure, Sean was very tall and plenty handsome in an all-American, wholesome blond guy kind of way, but when Walkera or I spoke, it's like the whole world turned off for him and all he heard was the sound of our voices.
As in, he paid attention. But with intensity.
And hooooooooooo boy...all of a sudden Walkera and I had the hots for a blond man.
UNPRECEDENTED!
A blond man fresh out of a breakup and who lives in Washington DC, but a blond man nonetheless.
At some point I got up to use the ladies room and the hostess grabbed me on my way to tell me that "OMG IT WAS MOSTLY AN ACCIDENT THAT I WAS ABLE TO SEAT THEM THERE, BUT HOW PERFECT, RIGHT?"
"DUDE, FOR SURE!"
"Jamie has a girlfriend but he's SUCH A GREAT GUY!"
"Ehhh, Jamie is certainly handsome but WE LOVE THE OTHER ONE!"
And we laughed about it all again.
And then when Walkera and I went to the cashier to pay we stood there for a few minutes rehashing it all with the cashier (who also thinks Jamie is AWESOME) and the hostess.
This was pretty much the conversation on the drive home:
I love Sean.
Me too.
Jamie was handsome, but dude, talk about cocky.
I know.
He wasn't even nearly as awesome as Sean.
I know...too bad he lives in DC.
I love how focused he was on me when we were talking.
Totallllly. Me too. He was way more awesome than Jamie.
Why did everyone there love Jamie SO MUCH?
Dude, I don't know, but I love Sean.
Me too.
Rinse and repeat.
In Summary:
Walkera and I both want to be Mrs. Sean.
Mission Street Food is tasty and surprisingly interactive.
French Onion French Dip: turkey confit, duck fat-onions and gruyere fondue on acme roll, served with turkey jus
Turkish Turkey: smoked, fried and za'atar dusted wings, served with tzatziki and salad of pear, celery, feta, and cranberry
Dirty South Stuffing: cornbread, collards, ham hocks, giblets
Mashed Potato with Beef Mole
Sake-Mirin Creamed Corn
Szechuan Green Bean Casserole
Lung Shan's Vegan Delight: shitake and oyster mushroom dumplings in miso soup
Six of our seven courses:
And for dessert we had bourbon & corn flake ice cream (breakfast flavor) and a delicious little baby pumpkin pie with orange flavored cream, which has inspired me to try adding a teeny bit of orange blossom water to my whipped cream for Thanksgiving.
It was all really good and we definitely plan to return and would recommend it to anyone who doesn't mind eating from the same plates as your dining companions or sharing tables with strangers. Plus, $5 corkage, we love you.
So all that is fine and good and we'd do it again but it was made even better because OMG WE HAD AWESOME TABLE COMPANIONS! One in particular, but I'll get to him in a minute...
We were seated with two SF hippie types in knitted hat-type-things. We thought they were a couple but they mentioned working together and she mentioned being married but he mentioned being polyamorous so really, all bets were off. He was VERY tall and kinda cute in a looks-like-he-lives-Burning-Man-style-365-days-a-year kind of way (i.e., NOT my flavor) and he told us that they didn't order everything on the tasting menu (like we did, oink) because the last time he did that, his date dumped him at the table so he thought it was bad luck. I'm pretty sure Walkera wouldn't dump me over creamed corn and green bean casserole so I wasn't worried about this bad juju.
He also said that The Slanted Door (a fancy Vietnamese-ish restaurant) was bad luck because he'd been dumped there and he'd also dumped someone there. Noted. Except really dude? How are we defining these "break ups"? When he went to pay the bill I asked his married lady friend if she thought he thought a break up was necessary after maybe only a few dates because otherwise? That's a lot of girlfriends! I don't remember her exact answer but I do remember thinking that he seemed overly eager to think things needed "breaking up" when perhaps a mutual fizzle would be more appropriate and less dramatic.
So they left and a handsome young man came to wipe down their half of the table and we joked with him that if he didn't mind, I'd like to put in a request for our next table mates to be two single, handsome, straight and tall men. He laughed and just then the hostess came by and he told her that we had a request. She gave it some thought and then 60 seconds later she brought us almost exactly what we ordered -- two handsome, straight and tall men.
We laughed and said "PERFECT!" The gentleman we'd later ADORE walked up, saw me and Walkera and said "PERFECT!" The hostess looked pleased with herself.
So there we were, smushed around a tiny table with two handsome men. Jamie was probably the more traditionally handsome one and he was roommates with one of the waitresses so he was a Mission Street Food regular and definitely seemed to be popular with the staff in general. Jamie was also a cocky shit.
But Sean....ohhhhhhhhhhhh Seaaaaaaaan. He isn't AT ALL my type or Walkera's type but holy hell -- he turned us into giddy school girls and we spent the whole ride home discussing exactly what it was about him that made us melt.
(Note to Walkera: He had a bite of our ice cream when you were in the bathroom. I think that means we're engaged now, FYI.)
Gentlemen, here's a tip:
Sure, Sean was very tall and plenty handsome in an all-American, wholesome blond guy kind of way, but when Walkera or I spoke, it's like the whole world turned off for him and all he heard was the sound of our voices.
As in, he paid attention. But with intensity.
And hooooooooooo boy...all of a sudden Walkera and I had the hots for a blond man.
UNPRECEDENTED!
A blond man fresh out of a breakup and who lives in Washington DC, but a blond man nonetheless.
At some point I got up to use the ladies room and the hostess grabbed me on my way to tell me that "OMG IT WAS MOSTLY AN ACCIDENT THAT I WAS ABLE TO SEAT THEM THERE, BUT HOW PERFECT, RIGHT?"
"DUDE, FOR SURE!"
"Jamie has a girlfriend but he's SUCH A GREAT GUY!"
"Ehhh, Jamie is certainly handsome but WE LOVE THE OTHER ONE!"
And we laughed about it all again.
And then when Walkera and I went to the cashier to pay we stood there for a few minutes rehashing it all with the cashier (who also thinks Jamie is AWESOME) and the hostess.
This was pretty much the conversation on the drive home:
I love Sean.
Me too.
Jamie was handsome, but dude, talk about cocky.
I know.
He wasn't even nearly as awesome as Sean.
I know...too bad he lives in DC.
I love how focused he was on me when we were talking.
Totallllly. Me too. He was way more awesome than Jamie.
Why did everyone there love Jamie SO MUCH?
Dude, I don't know, but I love Sean.
Me too.
Rinse and repeat.
In Summary:
Walkera and I both want to be Mrs. Sean.
Mission Street Food is tasty and surprisingly interactive.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
German Bikers Who Are Not Pirates
Okay so here's where I admit something unflattering about myself so that I can tell you a story. Longtime readers of the other incarnations of my blogging world will be all "What? Dude, I think we all already know all the unflattering stuff about you, Ms 'Look at This Picture and Tell Me if This is an Ingrown Hair or a TUMAH"
BUT YOU GUYS, that was back before MY FAMILY and other normal people started reading me and I had to start keeping it clean.
So here's the thing I have to tell you in order to tell you a story:
I have unwanted hair and I pay a lady to stick a magic wand into each hair follicle and electrocute it.
AND NOW YOU KNOW.
(I would also like to say that I AM NOT ALONE IN MY HAIRY PLIGHT! I'm just willing to admit it.)
I'm sure this isn't proper facial hair removal etiquette and I should probably avert my eyes to allow the other hairy beasts with appointments before and after mine some privacy, but I can't help but peek and speculate about their specific problem areas. A few weeks ago there was a man whose wife wanted him to get his eyebrows permanently tamed (Confidential to my favorite WoW player: FYI) so that was a brief thrill, but for the most part, they're all tubby middle-aged women who are probably there for the same chinny chin chin whiskers that I'm there for.
BUT LAST NIGHT I heard the last appointment finishing up and the hair zapper lady and the client stood at the counter (you can't see the client until they actually emerge from behind the door) discussing payment, next appointments, Thanksgiving plans, etc. I heard the client's voice and I was excited that OMG IT'S MY FIRST TRANSGENDERED PARTNER IN HAIR REMOVAL! AND SHE WAS GERMAN! AND SHE WAS A BIKER!
(Carrie will feel me on my excitement at encountering another German biker, but she didn't mention also being a pirate, so the trifecta was left incomplete.)
Except I WAS WRONG because she walked through the door and it turned out that she was just a biological woman who appeared to have some sort of excessive growth hormone issue, which I assumed was why she was like 6'6", had a deep-ish voice and was (based on the conversation) being treated for a facial hair problem.
We smiled at each other as she walked past me and then the hair removal lady was like "Wait!" and then motioned for me to stand up and compare my height to the German biker.
I'm 5'11" and I'm riiiiight at the upper end of the "tall but not freakishly tall" spectrum and, in my experience, women who are much taller than me DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. *Especially* women like this lady who was EXCEPTIONALLY tall.
But okay, fine, I can make polite conversation about it.
"Yeah, you win! You're taller than me!"
"Oh but at least you can wear heels, I wouldn't dare."
The German biker gave me a really kind smile and I really wanted to hug her and whisper that I had no idea why the hair removal lady thought this would be amusing and that I was sorry but enjoy the lonely hearts Thanksgiving you're hosting for your biker friends and your trip home to Germany for Christmas!
And then she left and the hair removal lady immediately blabbed that she used to be a he and then went on for a few minutes about how sweet she was and how the biker community has really embraced her and I've been thinking about the whole exchange ever since.
Specifically:
1. It's bad enough that she'd directly compare a freakishly tall lady to a regular tall lady -- like the freakishly tall lady really WANTS to hear that WHOA, YOU'RE WAY TALLER THAN THIS OTHER REALLY TALL LADY!
2. BUT DOES SHE THINK A TRANSGENDERED LADY REALLY WANTS TO BE COMPARED TO A BIOLOGICAL WOMAN LIKE THAT? "Oh hey, look at this biological lady who is so much more passable than you are!"
2a. And really, while we're at it, why would a biological woman want her physical attributes to be compared with someone who used to be a man?
3. I don't understand what either of us were supposed to get out of that whole interaction.
4. For a 6'6"-ish transgendered lady, she was kinda passable in a possibly-has-gigantism kind of way.
In Summary:
I have unwanted facial hair.
Single bikers in the area have something to do for Thanksgiving.
BUT YOU GUYS, that was back before MY FAMILY and other normal people started reading me and I had to start keeping it clean.
So here's the thing I have to tell you in order to tell you a story:
I have unwanted hair and I pay a lady to stick a magic wand into each hair follicle and electrocute it.
AND NOW YOU KNOW.
(I would also like to say that I AM NOT ALONE IN MY HAIRY PLIGHT! I'm just willing to admit it.)
I'm sure this isn't proper facial hair removal etiquette and I should probably avert my eyes to allow the other hairy beasts with appointments before and after mine some privacy, but I can't help but peek and speculate about their specific problem areas. A few weeks ago there was a man whose wife wanted him to get his eyebrows permanently tamed (Confidential to my favorite WoW player: FYI) so that was a brief thrill, but for the most part, they're all tubby middle-aged women who are probably there for the same chinny chin chin whiskers that I'm there for.
BUT LAST NIGHT I heard the last appointment finishing up and the hair zapper lady and the client stood at the counter (you can't see the client until they actually emerge from behind the door) discussing payment, next appointments, Thanksgiving plans, etc. I heard the client's voice and I was excited that OMG IT'S MY FIRST TRANSGENDERED PARTNER IN HAIR REMOVAL! AND SHE WAS GERMAN! AND SHE WAS A BIKER!
(Carrie will feel me on my excitement at encountering another German biker, but she didn't mention also being a pirate, so the trifecta was left incomplete.)
Except I WAS WRONG because she walked through the door and it turned out that she was just a biological woman who appeared to have some sort of excessive growth hormone issue, which I assumed was why she was like 6'6", had a deep-ish voice and was (based on the conversation) being treated for a facial hair problem.
We smiled at each other as she walked past me and then the hair removal lady was like "Wait!" and then motioned for me to stand up and compare my height to the German biker.
I'm 5'11" and I'm riiiiight at the upper end of the "tall but not freakishly tall" spectrum and, in my experience, women who are much taller than me DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. *Especially* women like this lady who was EXCEPTIONALLY tall.
But okay, fine, I can make polite conversation about it.
"Yeah, you win! You're taller than me!"
"Oh but at least you can wear heels, I wouldn't dare."
The German biker gave me a really kind smile and I really wanted to hug her and whisper that I had no idea why the hair removal lady thought this would be amusing and that I was sorry but enjoy the lonely hearts Thanksgiving you're hosting for your biker friends and your trip home to Germany for Christmas!
And then she left and the hair removal lady immediately blabbed that she used to be a he and then went on for a few minutes about how sweet she was and how the biker community has really embraced her and I've been thinking about the whole exchange ever since.
Specifically:
1. It's bad enough that she'd directly compare a freakishly tall lady to a regular tall lady -- like the freakishly tall lady really WANTS to hear that WHOA, YOU'RE WAY TALLER THAN THIS OTHER REALLY TALL LADY!
2. BUT DOES SHE THINK A TRANSGENDERED LADY REALLY WANTS TO BE COMPARED TO A BIOLOGICAL WOMAN LIKE THAT? "Oh hey, look at this biological lady who is so much more passable than you are!"
2a. And really, while we're at it, why would a biological woman want her physical attributes to be compared with someone who used to be a man?
3. I don't understand what either of us were supposed to get out of that whole interaction.
4. For a 6'6"-ish transgendered lady, she was kinda passable in a possibly-has-gigantism kind of way.
In Summary:
I have unwanted facial hair.
Single bikers in the area have something to do for Thanksgiving.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
My beautiful ring is at the jeweler for maintenance...
...so I'm wearing the awesomely horrible one that made Sarah think I
needed a non-God-awful ring in the first place.
I bought a new coat!
It's boring-ish and black, but the best part is the two-sizes-smaller-
than-expected part!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Things
1. This is a WAH WAH WAH WE SHOULD ALL HAVE SUCH PROBLEMS problem but I tried on every pair of pants in my closet yesterday and they're all too big. Sooooo, I'm in an all-jeans-all-the-time mode until I can find new pants. Easy, right? NOOOO. I'm fat *and* tall and the options for the tall and the fat are limited, especially if I don't want the stretchy black pants at Lane Bryant that every other fat girl has. I'm fine with a pair of these, but not a whole collection.
2. I finally remembered to email a bunch of peeps to tell them that I had moved and to give them the new (old) address and the email inspired one of my oldest friends to be all "OMG AND YOUR PHONE NUMBER USED TO BE 297-8379!" and I was all "OMG AND *YOUR* PHONE NUMBER USED TO BE 293-7463!"
I should have learned another language when I was eight years old because it seems that things I learned back in the day have really stuck, but could I tell you what I had for lunch yesterday? Mmm, probably not.
3. The Duggars on Awkward Family Photos!
4. So you know that pomegranate pulled pork that I didn't like at all? I commented on the blog where I found it and said that I didn't dig it and the chick never approved my comment. It's her recipe and her blog and all but sheeeeeesh...the other comments are all "OOH! I SHOULD TRY THAT! SOUNDS DELISH!" but nobody who actually did make it. Now I know why.
5. That's all I have for you today, Internet.
2. I finally remembered to email a bunch of peeps to tell them that I had moved and to give them the new (old) address and the email inspired one of my oldest friends to be all "OMG AND YOUR PHONE NUMBER USED TO BE 297-8379!" and I was all "OMG AND *YOUR* PHONE NUMBER USED TO BE 293-7463!"
I should have learned another language when I was eight years old because it seems that things I learned back in the day have really stuck, but could I tell you what I had for lunch yesterday? Mmm, probably not.
3. The Duggars on Awkward Family Photos!
4. So you know that pomegranate pulled pork that I didn't like at all? I commented on the blog where I found it and said that I didn't dig it and the chick never approved my comment. It's her recipe and her blog and all but sheeeeeesh...the other comments are all "OOH! I SHOULD TRY THAT! SOUNDS DELISH!" but nobody who actually did make it. Now I know why.
5. That's all I have for you today, Internet.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Baklava with Nutella!
Please let it not suck! How could it, right? But I'm asking the ether
(net) just for good measure.
Things
1. I'm disappointed to report that the pomegranate pulled pork wasn't delicious at all and now I have to eat three pounds of it anyway. I added some brown sugar to cut the sharp and kinda bitter spiciness of the sauce so I'll survive and all, but I'm disappointed that I don't "get" to eat pulled pork this week...I have to.
2. I am pleased to report that I hit my goal of running Saturday's Mermaid 5k in less than 45 minutes. 43:15, to be exact! So that's great, but I still only came in 154th out of 201 5k'ers, which isn't that great -- especially considering I was passed by some run/walkers.
I'm interested to see if I can beat that time when I run the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving, but I'm not holding my breath because that's a much bigger race with a really frustrating bottleneck toward the end and I will probably be trapped behind 100 babies in strollers. I'll shoot to beat last year's time though -- 52:11. Ooooh, except there's a new course this year! Hopefully we'll stay off the Guadalupe trail and I'll be able to KICK SOME ASS.
3. I am also pleased to report that I am the new owner of a brand new refrigerator and that my delivery window was very conveniently right smack dab after my race so I crossed the finish line and beelined to my car so I could sit in the lobby and patiently wait for the appliance magic to happen:
They didn't quite turn out as pretty as the sample and I almost didn't bring them because they looked pretty sad on the plate, but I'm glad I did because they were a hit. But seriously, they're fat with fat and a side of fat so what's not to love about them?
5. The only other item of interest for today is that Walkera and I were supposed to go see our boyfriends Billy Joel and Elton John tomorrow night but they postponed the show. DAMN THESE OLD PEOPLE AND THEIR INABILITY TO JUST SUCK IT UP!
2. I am pleased to report that I hit my goal of running Saturday's Mermaid 5k in less than 45 minutes. 43:15, to be exact! So that's great, but I still only came in 154th out of 201 5k'ers, which isn't that great -- especially considering I was passed by some run/walkers.
I'm interested to see if I can beat that time when I run the Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving, but I'm not holding my breath because that's a much bigger race with a really frustrating bottleneck toward the end and I will probably be trapped behind 100 babies in strollers. I'll shoot to beat last year's time though -- 52:11. Ooooh, except there's a new course this year! Hopefully we'll stay off the Guadalupe trail and I'll be able to KICK SOME ASS.
3. I am also pleased to report that I am the new owner of a brand new refrigerator and that my delivery window was very conveniently right smack dab after my race so I crossed the finish line and beelined to my car so I could sit in the lobby and patiently wait for the appliance magic to happen:
4. I think I've already posted about the string of bad luck I've been having with recipes (the pork was just the most recent flub) but they haven't allllllll been bad. For example, I made these to take to a wine and appetizer party at Ali's house on Saturday:
They didn't quite turn out as pretty as the sample and I almost didn't bring them because they looked pretty sad on the plate, but I'm glad I did because they were a hit. But seriously, they're fat with fat and a side of fat so what's not to love about them?
5. The only other item of interest for today is that Walkera and I were supposed to go see our boyfriends Billy Joel and Elton John tomorrow night but they postponed the show. DAMN THESE OLD PEOPLE AND THEIR INABILITY TO JUST SUCK IT UP!
E.coli, schme.coli.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Checking my progress...
I went to look up my 2009 resolutions so I could see exactly how far behind I was in my book reading goal and IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when I realized that I'm actually within reach of achieving all of these!
1. Read 15 books
2. Make an effort to look friendlier
3. Move back to the 408
4. Lose 30 pounds
#2 is because my just-sitting-there face isn't pretty AT ALL and I know that I look cranky even when I'm not at all and I realized that when I smile at someone from the just-sitting-there state what is a decent smile in MY mind, really only counteracts the downturn of my mouth and the smile ends up making me look neutral.
SO, I decided that I should try to walk around with that smile on my face so that I'd look neutral and then if I ever wanted to actually smile at anyone, I should cheese it up and then that would just look like a regular smile.
I *have* been doing this so CHECK!
3. CHECK! I was even telling my mom that I don't think I'll ever move back into that apartment and that I should sell it and buy something in the 408 instead. We'll see how all that works out, but I'm not selling it for at least a couple of years. It does bum me out that someone else gets to live in my beautiful little apartment, but I really like her so I hope she feels at home there.
4. I'm at like 24 pounds lost so now I'm extra motivated to get rid of those last six in the next seven or so weeks. Totally possible, even with the holidays and my lazy one-pound-a-week Weight Watcher style.
1. This is the one I have to work the hardest at. I've only read eight books so far this year:
Confessions of a Tax Collector (Interesting! And also puts the fear of an audit in me!)
Life With My Sister Madonna (WAH WAH WAH!)
Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination (L-A-M-E)
Sum (Weird and not really great or anything, but it frequently sparks conversation between me and my brother, who also read it and had a similar opinion -- that the author really must be insane.)
It Sucked and Then I Cried (Good, but blog is better.)
Think Like a Man, Act Like a Lady (I'VE BEEN DOING IT WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME!)
Pretty in Plaid (Jen Lancaster gets more and more full of herself with each book she writes.)
Motion of the Ocean (I don't really have anything to say about this one, but I don't want it to feel left out of the commentary in parentheses.)
Currently Reading: Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death
In Summary:
9 books (including the one I'm currently reading)
2 fiction (except I think that Sum book is actually in the spirituality category or something)
6 memoirs (always my favorite)
1 self help (I think this is the only self help book I've ever read!)
So now I have seven weeks to hit 15. I don't think it's possible, but you never know.
1. Read 15 books
2. Make an effort to look friendlier
3. Move back to the 408
4. Lose 30 pounds
#2 is because my just-sitting-there face isn't pretty AT ALL and I know that I look cranky even when I'm not at all and I realized that when I smile at someone from the just-sitting-there state what is a decent smile in MY mind, really only counteracts the downturn of my mouth and the smile ends up making me look neutral.
SO, I decided that I should try to walk around with that smile on my face so that I'd look neutral and then if I ever wanted to actually smile at anyone, I should cheese it up and then that would just look like a regular smile.
I *have* been doing this so CHECK!
3. CHECK! I was even telling my mom that I don't think I'll ever move back into that apartment and that I should sell it and buy something in the 408 instead. We'll see how all that works out, but I'm not selling it for at least a couple of years. It does bum me out that someone else gets to live in my beautiful little apartment, but I really like her so I hope she feels at home there.
4. I'm at like 24 pounds lost so now I'm extra motivated to get rid of those last six in the next seven or so weeks. Totally possible, even with the holidays and my lazy one-pound-a-week Weight Watcher style.
1. This is the one I have to work the hardest at. I've only read eight books so far this year:
Confessions of a Tax Collector (Interesting! And also puts the fear of an audit in me!)
Life With My Sister Madonna (WAH WAH WAH!)
Olivia Joules and the Overactive Imagination (L-A-M-E)
Sum (Weird and not really great or anything, but it frequently sparks conversation between me and my brother, who also read it and had a similar opinion -- that the author really must be insane.)
It Sucked and Then I Cried (Good, but blog is better.)
Think Like a Man, Act Like a Lady (I'VE BEEN DOING IT WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME!)
Pretty in Plaid (Jen Lancaster gets more and more full of herself with each book she writes.)
Motion of the Ocean (I don't really have anything to say about this one, but I don't want it to feel left out of the commentary in parentheses.)
Currently Reading: Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death
In Summary:
9 books (including the one I'm currently reading)
2 fiction (except I think that Sum book is actually in the spirituality category or something)
6 memoirs (always my favorite)
1 self help (I think this is the only self help book I've ever read!)
So now I have seven weeks to hit 15. I don't think it's possible, but you never know.
Things
Here's what I have to report today:
1. My tenant emailed me to tell me that the fridge is dead. This is a bummer but really, those appliances are old so I'm really not surprised AND she's going out of town tomorrow and said that she didn't mind if I replaced it while she was gone or if I had it delivered Wednesday afternoon when she gets home. Sooooo, I'll be spending my Saturday afternoon at Sears, investigating new fridges.
**EDIT** I just went looking around Home Depot and Sears' websites and I think this might be more difficult than I thought. Crap. I'm trying not to stress out about it but if the websites are to be believed, the fridges that meet my needs (color, style, size and under a thousand dollars) don't appear to be available to be delivered in time, which is LAME because "in time" = six days from now!
Soooo, I guess I'll be spending my evening at Sears, hoping for the best.
2. I'm doing the Mermaid 5k on Saturday. My goal is to finish in less than 50 minutes...because I'm a speed runner, obviously.
3. I'm having a day that makes me want to go home, sit on the couch and bury my head in Chinese food and Butterfingers.
AND DO YOU KNOW WHY, Internet? Because I was a poor planner and didn't pack a lunch today and I was rushed this morning so I skipped breakfast which led to a poor eating decision which is now sitting like a rock in my stomach and making me half want to take the Chinese food and Butterfinger route and the other half NEVER EAT AGAIN.
The silver lining here is that I didn't PIG OUT or anything so I'm glad to recognize that my body just does not enjoy having greasy breakfast foods in my stomach. I'm getting better at caring about the consequences *before* I say FUCK IT!
In fact, maybe even just thinking about that makes me feel better and less BLAH and that the whole day is not shot afterall.
4. But blah anyway because I still have refrigerator stress.
5. And blah because I can't go run the grease out of me after work because of the refrigerator.
6. So stress leads to blah which leads to stress which leads to blah.
Oh my.
Time to quit my pity party, for sure.
1. My tenant emailed me to tell me that the fridge is dead. This is a bummer but really, those appliances are old so I'm really not surprised AND she's going out of town tomorrow and said that she didn't mind if I replaced it while she was gone or if I had it delivered Wednesday afternoon when she gets home. Sooooo, I'll be spending my Saturday afternoon at Sears, investigating new fridges.
**EDIT** I just went looking around Home Depot and Sears' websites and I think this might be more difficult than I thought. Crap. I'm trying not to stress out about it but if the websites are to be believed, the fridges that meet my needs (color, style, size and under a thousand dollars) don't appear to be available to be delivered in time, which is LAME because "in time" = six days from now!
Soooo, I guess I'll be spending my evening at Sears, hoping for the best.
2. I'm doing the Mermaid 5k on Saturday. My goal is to finish in less than 50 minutes...because I'm a speed runner, obviously.
3. I'm having a day that makes me want to go home, sit on the couch and bury my head in Chinese food and Butterfingers.
AND DO YOU KNOW WHY, Internet? Because I was a poor planner and didn't pack a lunch today and I was rushed this morning so I skipped breakfast which led to a poor eating decision which is now sitting like a rock in my stomach and making me half want to take the Chinese food and Butterfinger route and the other half NEVER EAT AGAIN.
The silver lining here is that I didn't PIG OUT or anything so I'm glad to recognize that my body just does not enjoy having greasy breakfast foods in my stomach. I'm getting better at caring about the consequences *before* I say FUCK IT!
In fact, maybe even just thinking about that makes me feel better and less BLAH and that the whole day is not shot afterall.
4. But blah anyway because I still have refrigerator stress.
5. And blah because I can't go run the grease out of me after work because of the refrigerator.
6. So stress leads to blah which leads to stress which leads to blah.
Oh my.
Time to quit my pity party, for sure.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
From my internet, to yours.
1. I'm going to be really disappointed if this was staged:
It seems pretty authentic though, so I'm going to believe that's a real photo that HOPEFULLY is hanging up along someone's staircase RIGHT NOW.
2. I'm going to make this Coconut & Lime recipe this weekend:
3. THE HORRRRRRROR!
It seems pretty authentic though, so I'm going to believe that's a real photo that HOPEFULLY is hanging up along someone's staircase RIGHT NOW.
2. I'm going to make this Coconut & Lime recipe this weekend:
3. THE HORRRRRRROR!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
These two items just cost me $18.
Stupid Cooking Light and its stupid expensive recipes. It had better
be good.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Nobody likes the people who eat half doughnuts.
Do people reallllly try to return half eaten portions?!?!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Getting Baby involved in the self portrait process
They're blurry because while I LOVE that he's growing and learning how to grab for stuff (which, btw, blows my mind because it wasn't very long ago AT ALL that he was a passive participant in the self portrait photo sessions), holding a grabby baby and a camera AND keeping things steady is a skill I have yet to master.
So he's learning to help, but in the meantime, he has the cute DOWN PAT!
And if you were wondering if he smells as good as he looks, he does.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
1301.1 miles in three days!
Okay NOW it's time to tell you about Oktoberfest #2 which was the first event in a weekend full of events. Well...second event, if you count the alien sighting:
SEE? Aliens!
Did you know that aliens care about child safety seats too??
But back to the human-related events.
This whole trip started with the wigwams and then it somehow ballooned into the wigwams and Oktoberfest in Vegas because OH HEY, WHY NOT? Plus, for bonus WTF we threw in *camping* in Vegas.
Stop and think about that one for a minute.
Camping?
In Vegas?
Yes.
Not Vegas proper, but Red Rock Canyon, which is only a hop, skip and a jump from Las Vegas so one minute "we" were setting up a tent and 15 minutes later we were listening to the Oktoberfest #1 CD and pulling up to our dinner destination for the evening.
So if you're keeping track, that's one night in a tent outside of Vegas and one night in a wigwam in San Bernadino.
VIP all the way, baby.
BUT SERIOUSLY, ELIZABETH? CAMPING?
Yep.
It really wasn't so bad though and DARE I SAY, I'd be willing to do it again?? Maybe not in VEGAS, but at the beach or in the wilderness or something and as long as I have a trusty camping concierge with me to make it all happen.
For example, I was not in charge of any of the camp set up activities:
Or any of the camp break down activities:
I'm sad to say I ended up not using my standing-up-to-pee device (other than the test-run in my bathroom at home) because the bathrooms, while without the running water I was promised, were like the nicest outhouses I've ever used and were a 30 second walk from the tent:
Plus, the moon was really bright and there were people in surrounding camp areas so I felt bashful about busting out my lady-pee'r so I just used the official bathrooms.
Once camp was all set up and our very expensive $10 fee was paid to the BLM I put on my pearls and my fantastic gold jacket and we hit the town for David's traditional Oktoberfest bonanza:
We made friends:
That's James, AKA the sweetest waiter EVER.
This is Fritzie (Joan, I told her about YOUR Fritz!):
Fritzie was there celebrating her first anniversary with her lady, whose name I do not recall:
I tried to teach David about the self portraits:
But he was not particularly cooperative:
I can report that the songs and the festive atmospheres at both Oktoberfest #1 and #2 were the same but Teske's didn't have the same dirty giant-horn-related party games, the beer stein holding contests or the girl's beer chugging contests that the Vegas version offered.
The big let-down of the night:
I pussed out when it came to entering the girl's beer chugging contest.
The problem was that they announced that it would happen in 30 minutes so I stopped drinking my own beer so I'd have room to chug what I thought would be an entire liter of contest beer. BUT THEN it took closer to an hour before they got on with it and this delay sobered me up to the point where I was no longer willing to go get in front of everybody and show them my mad skills.
The salt in the wound: It turned out that the ladies only had to chug HALF liters which is CHILD'S PLAY and I didn't even need to stop drinking in order to accommodate that puny little amount.
GRR.
David and James were very disappointed in me.
The party eventually wound down and the restaurant was closing so we moved on to stop #2, a place David assured me would be really cool and it was really cool except that when he directed me into the Peppermill parking lot and I was like "OMG LET'S GO TO THE FIRESIDE LOUNGE!" He didn't know that there used to be a Peppermill in Cupertino and that I was already well acquainted with the magic:
We made it back to the "hotel" safely and then after a not-so-awesome night's sleep on the ground (turns out, my camping companion snores, which was an exciting bonus that I rectified for the next night by sending him to buy me some ear plugs), we got up, packed up and went on a scenic drive of Red Rock Canyon.
I was like "Please be sure to get less of me in these fat pants and more of the rocks" and this is what I got:
Smart ass.
Take two:
More rocks:
And then we drove to San Bernadino and OMG ARE YOU BORED OF THIS UPDATE YET??
Well let me spice it up for you:
That's right, I'm on a tractor in front of a wigwam.
The interior of the wigwam was pretty standard motel'y and the shower SUCKED but it didn't end up on my life list because I thought it would have 400 thread count sheets and a jacuzzi tub, but it was clean and only half of the TV channels were fuzzy. Besides, after my two hours of sleep on the desert floor the night before, I kind of didn't care. I was READY for a shower (however ineffective) and a real bed (however firm).
It was Halloween night and in my head I had grand plans that we would go tie one on at a local San Bernadino bar or whatever but the reality is that A) I WAS TIRED and B) San Bernadino SUCKS so we mustered up the energy to go out for a crappy dinner and, from what I hear, my ear plugs and I passed out about seventeen seconds after my head hit the pillow.
It's really a shame that San Bernadino is such a HOLE because the Wigwam Motel is great and I'd love to see them kitsch it up and have theme rooms or something but the unfortunate reality is that sure, it's on Route 66, but otherwise it's in a crappy area that I can't imagine anyone going out of their was to visit. Other than us, I guess.
BUT, it's like an OASIS:
Good ol' #117:
When we checked in we were told that #117 was near the garden...and sure...it was...kinda:
Mostly it was just a patch of sorry-looking plants. That's David going on a hunt for the chilis the guy said were back there and invited him to sample.
Goodbye, Wigwam #117!
BUT WAIT! THAT'S NOT ALL!!!
The McDonald's museum is just a hop, skip and a jump from the Wigwams!
I totally remember these hamburger jails and I also remember being TERRIFIED of ever getting in one because WHAT IF I WAS UP THERE AND A KID WAS BLOCKING THE EXIT AND I COULDN'T GET OUT AND MY MOM DIDN'T SAVE ME AND I DIED?!?!?!?!?!?
It appears that only 50% of us shared that concern because that's a 6'Something man you see crammed into that thing.
It wasn't really much of a museum though...it was more like a collection of crap. I'm sure my dad and his museum homies would be able to give the exact definition of "museum" versus "crap," but if the diorama right inside the door is a 4th grader's school project, then I'm going with CRAP:
There were plenty of giant-sized McDonald's characters for the photo opps though. This one in particular wasn't intended to be so suggestive but shoot -- the other pictures of me and the Hamburgler all feature excessive chin (on me).
Grimace! But like a furry mascot-looking version of him:
Yeah, I don't know what that face means.
The man himself:
SEE? OMG CHIN! It's horizontal AND vertical!
But enough of that.
And enough of this EPIC, 1300 mile blog post.
We had a great time, the end, HIGH FIVE!
SEE? Aliens!
Did you know that aliens care about child safety seats too??
But back to the human-related events.
This whole trip started with the wigwams and then it somehow ballooned into the wigwams and Oktoberfest in Vegas because OH HEY, WHY NOT? Plus, for bonus WTF we threw in *camping* in Vegas.
Stop and think about that one for a minute.
Camping?
In Vegas?
Yes.
Not Vegas proper, but Red Rock Canyon, which is only a hop, skip and a jump from Las Vegas so one minute "we" were setting up a tent and 15 minutes later we were listening to the Oktoberfest #1 CD and pulling up to our dinner destination for the evening.
So if you're keeping track, that's one night in a tent outside of Vegas and one night in a wigwam in San Bernadino.
VIP all the way, baby.
BUT SERIOUSLY, ELIZABETH? CAMPING?
Yep.
It really wasn't so bad though and DARE I SAY, I'd be willing to do it again?? Maybe not in VEGAS, but at the beach or in the wilderness or something and as long as I have a trusty camping concierge with me to make it all happen.
For example, I was not in charge of any of the camp set up activities:
Or any of the camp break down activities:
I'm sad to say I ended up not using my standing-up-to-pee device (other than the test-run in my bathroom at home) because the bathrooms, while without the running water I was promised, were like the nicest outhouses I've ever used and were a 30 second walk from the tent:
Plus, the moon was really bright and there were people in surrounding camp areas so I felt bashful about busting out my lady-pee'r so I just used the official bathrooms.Once camp was all set up and our very expensive $10 fee was paid to the BLM I put on my pearls and my fantastic gold jacket and we hit the town for David's traditional Oktoberfest bonanza:
We made friends:
That's James, AKA the sweetest waiter EVER.This is Fritzie (Joan, I told her about YOUR Fritz!):
Fritzie was there celebrating her first anniversary with her lady, whose name I do not recall:
I tried to teach David about the self portraits:
But he was not particularly cooperative:
I can report that the songs and the festive atmospheres at both Oktoberfest #1 and #2 were the same but Teske's didn't have the same dirty giant-horn-related party games, the beer stein holding contests or the girl's beer chugging contests that the Vegas version offered.The big let-down of the night:
I pussed out when it came to entering the girl's beer chugging contest.
The problem was that they announced that it would happen in 30 minutes so I stopped drinking my own beer so I'd have room to chug what I thought would be an entire liter of contest beer. BUT THEN it took closer to an hour before they got on with it and this delay sobered me up to the point where I was no longer willing to go get in front of everybody and show them my mad skills.
The salt in the wound: It turned out that the ladies only had to chug HALF liters which is CHILD'S PLAY and I didn't even need to stop drinking in order to accommodate that puny little amount.
GRR.
David and James were very disappointed in me.
The party eventually wound down and the restaurant was closing so we moved on to stop #2, a place David assured me would be really cool and it was really cool except that when he directed me into the Peppermill parking lot and I was like "OMG LET'S GO TO THE FIRESIDE LOUNGE!" He didn't know that there used to be a Peppermill in Cupertino and that I was already well acquainted with the magic:
We made it back to the "hotel" safely and then after a not-so-awesome night's sleep on the ground (turns out, my camping companion snores, which was an exciting bonus that I rectified for the next night by sending him to buy me some ear plugs), we got up, packed up and went on a scenic drive of Red Rock Canyon.
I was like "Please be sure to get less of me in these fat pants and more of the rocks" and this is what I got:
Smart ass.
Take two:
More rocks:
And then we drove to San Bernadino and OMG ARE YOU BORED OF THIS UPDATE YET??
Well let me spice it up for you:
That's right, I'm on a tractor in front of a wigwam.
The interior of the wigwam was pretty standard motel'y and the shower SUCKED but it didn't end up on my life list because I thought it would have 400 thread count sheets and a jacuzzi tub, but it was clean and only half of the TV channels were fuzzy. Besides, after my two hours of sleep on the desert floor the night before, I kind of didn't care. I was READY for a shower (however ineffective) and a real bed (however firm).
It was Halloween night and in my head I had grand plans that we would go tie one on at a local San Bernadino bar or whatever but the reality is that A) I WAS TIRED and B) San Bernadino SUCKS so we mustered up the energy to go out for a crappy dinner and, from what I hear, my ear plugs and I passed out about seventeen seconds after my head hit the pillow.
It's really a shame that San Bernadino is such a HOLE because the Wigwam Motel is great and I'd love to see them kitsch it up and have theme rooms or something but the unfortunate reality is that sure, it's on Route 66, but otherwise it's in a crappy area that I can't imagine anyone going out of their was to visit. Other than us, I guess.
BUT, it's like an OASIS:
Good ol' #117:
When we checked in we were told that #117 was near the garden...and sure...it was...kinda:
Mostly it was just a patch of sorry-looking plants. That's David going on a hunt for the chilis the guy said were back there and invited him to sample.Goodbye, Wigwam #117!
BUT WAIT! THAT'S NOT ALL!!!
The McDonald's museum is just a hop, skip and a jump from the Wigwams!
I totally remember these hamburger jails and I also remember being TERRIFIED of ever getting in one because WHAT IF I WAS UP THERE AND A KID WAS BLOCKING THE EXIT AND I COULDN'T GET OUT AND MY MOM DIDN'T SAVE ME AND I DIED?!?!?!?!?!?
It appears that only 50% of us shared that concern because that's a 6'Something man you see crammed into that thing.It wasn't really much of a museum though...it was more like a collection of crap. I'm sure my dad and his museum homies would be able to give the exact definition of "museum" versus "crap," but if the diorama right inside the door is a 4th grader's school project, then I'm going with CRAP:
There were plenty of giant-sized McDonald's characters for the photo opps though. This one in particular wasn't intended to be so suggestive but shoot -- the other pictures of me and the Hamburgler all feature excessive chin (on me).
Grimace! But like a furry mascot-looking version of him:
Yeah, I don't know what that face means.The man himself:
SEE? OMG CHIN! It's horizontal AND vertical!
But enough of that.
And enough of this EPIC, 1300 mile blog post.
We had a great time, the end, HIGH FIVE!
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