I have an unfinished post telling you about how I was going speed dating tonight but here's a sneak preview of the results: I sat it out at the bar. None of the men I saw were the future Mr Elizabeth. Leslie completed the exercise and agrees.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
My Teammate
I'd been thinking about how my very serious niece was actually very much like me -- she doesn't just *give* her friendship away.
Then today my SIL Who Does Not Wear John Deere Pajamas said that my niece has a personality very much like her Aunt Elizabeth -- very specific about what she wants and is very pleasant when she gets it, but very clear about not getting it when she doesn't.
I can totally respect that.
ATTA GIRL, BABY!
She looks very serious here (and very tiny in the high chair!) but she actually had a whole bunch of smiles for me today. I think she knows that I've got her number so she might as well like me.
Monday, June 27, 2011
I am a hot chicken who can't sleep.
1. I haven’t had a successful Weight Watcher day in like ELEVEN DAYS and now I’m scared to go to WW on Saturday and find out that I’ve gained 10,000 pounds. I’ve been shoveling the food into my mouth like I just got voted off Survivor and what’s annoying about it is that some of it is for sure out of boredom and some of it is just because of the crazy in my head, but there have been a few days when I’ve just been FLAT OUT HUNGRY and no matter how much I shoveled in, I was hungry 20 minutes later.
2. The last few weekends I’ve noticed that I tend to spend a significant amount of time just sorta waiting for time to pass until there’s something else to do. I’ve even caught myself looking forward to Monday so I have somewhere to go. This all seemed really sad and wasteful until I realized that OH! Normally I’d be filling this idle time with television! But since I don’t have a TV right now, I have a lot of downtime.
Sure, I *could* be writing or reading or exercising or doing any number of productive things, but instead I end up playing game after game after game of Bookworm on my phone or watching Netflix movies (I used to keep DVDs for WEEKS AND WEEKS AND WEEKS at a time and now I find myself tap tap tapping my fingers, waiting for a new DVD to arrive) or admiring the vacuum cleaner lines in the carpet.
3. I think part of the problem feeding (ha!) numbers one and two above is that I’m having trouble sleeping. I’m used to passing the hell out as soon as my head hit the pillow and then not stirring again until the alarm goes off the next morning. The issues I think I’m having here are:
a. I am a sleep-with-the-windows-open kind of person. I just flat out can’t do that in my current home because A) I live on a very busy street…and not just busy in terms of traffic (which I was usually able to sleep right through when I lived in San Francisco and I had ear plugs if I knew I was going to want to sleep in)…but “very busy” meaning “drunk people, fighting people, crazy people, etc. frequently walk by and/or SIT THEIR ASSES ON MY STOOP, which is right under my bedroom window, and conduct their drunk/fighting/crazy business” and B) I’m on the second floor and the master bedroom only has sliding glass doors so I’m very chicken shitty about sleeping with the door open because it seems like an invitation for someone to climb in and strangle me in my sleep. The end result is that I am hot when I sleep and am therefore restless.
b. My bedroom gets morning sun. The shades are thin. The sun comes up really early this time of year. I keep waking up IN A PANIC because I think I’m late, only to look at the clock and realize that my alarm isn’t even due to go off for another hour or more.
Solutions Being Enabled as of Last Night:
• Turning on the air conditioning while I sleep. This seems wasteful and I’m afraid to get the PG&E bill, but dude…I HAVE TO get some sleep.
• I was all out of ear plugs so I bought some more. I am still somewhat worried about not being able to hear a killer breaking in, but I think maybe I’ll be able to get over that. (My SF apartment was tiny enough that I could see almost my entire territory at once…this place is three times as big and all kinds of hiding spots for killers…a girl has to use all her senses to supervise such a large home.)
• I bought an EYE MASK! The first night I wore it I woke up with it in my hair, but last night worked pretty well.
Fun Eye Mask Note: Lauren and I were at CVS post-Dailey Method the other day and we couldn’t find the eye masks, but we did find eye patches. I considered just buying two eye patches, but she was all rocket science’y and suggested I look in the beauty department…and viola, eye masks!
So that’s my exciting update for today.
2. The last few weekends I’ve noticed that I tend to spend a significant amount of time just sorta waiting for time to pass until there’s something else to do. I’ve even caught myself looking forward to Monday so I have somewhere to go. This all seemed really sad and wasteful until I realized that OH! Normally I’d be filling this idle time with television! But since I don’t have a TV right now, I have a lot of downtime.
Sure, I *could* be writing or reading or exercising or doing any number of productive things, but instead I end up playing game after game after game of Bookworm on my phone or watching Netflix movies (I used to keep DVDs for WEEKS AND WEEKS AND WEEKS at a time and now I find myself tap tap tapping my fingers, waiting for a new DVD to arrive) or admiring the vacuum cleaner lines in the carpet.
3. I think part of the problem feeding (ha!) numbers one and two above is that I’m having trouble sleeping. I’m used to passing the hell out as soon as my head hit the pillow and then not stirring again until the alarm goes off the next morning. The issues I think I’m having here are:
a. I am a sleep-with-the-windows-open kind of person. I just flat out can’t do that in my current home because A) I live on a very busy street…and not just busy in terms of traffic (which I was usually able to sleep right through when I lived in San Francisco and I had ear plugs if I knew I was going to want to sleep in)…but “very busy” meaning “drunk people, fighting people, crazy people, etc. frequently walk by and/or SIT THEIR ASSES ON MY STOOP, which is right under my bedroom window, and conduct their drunk/fighting/crazy business” and B) I’m on the second floor and the master bedroom only has sliding glass doors so I’m very chicken shitty about sleeping with the door open because it seems like an invitation for someone to climb in and strangle me in my sleep. The end result is that I am hot when I sleep and am therefore restless.
b. My bedroom gets morning sun. The shades are thin. The sun comes up really early this time of year. I keep waking up IN A PANIC because I think I’m late, only to look at the clock and realize that my alarm isn’t even due to go off for another hour or more.
Solutions Being Enabled as of Last Night:
• Turning on the air conditioning while I sleep. This seems wasteful and I’m afraid to get the PG&E bill, but dude…I HAVE TO get some sleep.
• I was all out of ear plugs so I bought some more. I am still somewhat worried about not being able to hear a killer breaking in, but I think maybe I’ll be able to get over that. (My SF apartment was tiny enough that I could see almost my entire territory at once…this place is three times as big and all kinds of hiding spots for killers…a girl has to use all her senses to supervise such a large home.)
• I bought an EYE MASK! The first night I wore it I woke up with it in my hair, but last night worked pretty well.
Fun Eye Mask Note: Lauren and I were at CVS post-Dailey Method the other day and we couldn’t find the eye masks, but we did find eye patches. I considered just buying two eye patches, but she was all rocket science’y and suggested I look in the beauty department…and viola, eye masks!
So that’s my exciting update for today.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Future Giant!
My sweet, wonderful nephew loves ALL THINGS baseball, including his dad's old little league hat.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Vagina Army
I will not out this particular friend, but I happen to know someone who chews her gum like it’s going out of style. She knows it makes me CRAZY INSANE and she tries to keep it in check when we’re in places where it has a particularly negative effect on my blood pressure (like, for example, the car), but it’s a habit and she can’t help herself and I know that and I love her anyway.
But then when another homie sent along this little gem from the internet, I could not help but pass it along to her:
Fast forward a few days and she was telling me about how she went to the movies and the woman next to her was chewing her gum like a mad woman and how OMG IT TOTALLY *DOES* SOUND LIKE AN ARMY OF VAGINAS MARCHING THROUGH THE MUD!!!!
She’s switching to mints.
My work here is done.
But then when another homie sent along this little gem from the internet, I could not help but pass it along to her:
Fast forward a few days and she was telling me about how she went to the movies and the woman next to her was chewing her gum like a mad woman and how OMG IT TOTALLY *DOES* SOUND LIKE AN ARMY OF VAGINAS MARCHING THROUGH THE MUD!!!!
She’s switching to mints.
My work here is done.
I lost my modesty at Old Navy
First, I just have to say that DUDES, summer in the Bay Area went from 0 to 60 (or more specifically, 60-93) almost overnight.
So there I was, dressed in a lovely work-appropriate dress and sweater and heels. I had plans to go up to SF to meet Farah for dinner though and as the day went on and on and I got hotter and hotter, all I could think about was how trapped I was feeling in my dress and that the ankle straps on my shoes were going to strangle my feet and that they might turn black, shrivel up and fall off.
Totally reasonable.
(Also: The sushi for lunch probably didn’t help, green soy sauce bottle or not.)
I bailed out of work a few minutes early and drove myself to the local Old Navy so I could make a pit stop for some flip flops and save myself from being an amputee.
Once I was in Old Navy I saw a bunch of very dumpy, but very comfy looking dresses and was suddenly VERY ENVIOUS of all the regular sized ladies who had the luxury of just walking into a store and picking out a new dress. Except that shoot…Old Navy has what they call “vanity sizing,” which is code for “Everything runs a size or two too big so that your fat ass can see a smaller size on the tag and feel better about yourself.” This meant that maybe that XXL tenty-looking dress would fit me!
So I went on a seven minute Old Navy shopping spree and picked out a few things that seemed more comfortable and less DEATH BY WAISTBAND inducing than the dress I was already wearing, took my adorable but agonizing shoes off right there at the check stand and then stopped in the mall bathroom to change my dress. The mall bathroom, like all other mall bathrooms on the face of the planet, wasn’t air conditioned and the on/off dress process was sweatier than it needed to be but it turned out that the XXL tenty dress from Old Navy was probably even a size too big so I had no problem with the maneuver.
I walked out of my stall and realized that oh dear…the boob coverage of this tenty dress was minimal and the bra I happened to be wearing was strapless, therefore it was large and totally hanging out the front of the dress. But whatever, I would make due. I didn’t care.
I spent the entire drive up to SF fiddling with the dress, the straps, the bra…trying to figure out how to make it acceptable, but no dice. And then the closer I got to SF, the more the temperature dropped. In 93 degree heat, people might be more understanding of the emergency tenty dress and the hangy-outy bra…but in 75 degree San Francisco, people would wonder why the heck I couldn’t keep my shit together enough on this perfect, beautiful day to select appropriate undergarments.
BUT WAIT! I bought a few tank tops while I was at the Old Navy! I’ve seen people wear tank tops under strappier dresses to make them acceptable! I can do that too! Where to change though? Oh! I know! How about in my car, which is parked in this primo spot on the street, six feet away from people at their desks?
OKAY!
So if you happened to be minding your own business at your street-level desk yesterday evening and you saw a fat girl pulling her dress down to her waist and re-dressing herself, I apologize. The strapless bra is ugly, I know.
So there I was, dressed in a lovely work-appropriate dress and sweater and heels. I had plans to go up to SF to meet Farah for dinner though and as the day went on and on and I got hotter and hotter, all I could think about was how trapped I was feeling in my dress and that the ankle straps on my shoes were going to strangle my feet and that they might turn black, shrivel up and fall off.
Totally reasonable.
(Also: The sushi for lunch probably didn’t help, green soy sauce bottle or not.)
I bailed out of work a few minutes early and drove myself to the local Old Navy so I could make a pit stop for some flip flops and save myself from being an amputee.
Once I was in Old Navy I saw a bunch of very dumpy, but very comfy looking dresses and was suddenly VERY ENVIOUS of all the regular sized ladies who had the luxury of just walking into a store and picking out a new dress. Except that shoot…Old Navy has what they call “vanity sizing,” which is code for “Everything runs a size or two too big so that your fat ass can see a smaller size on the tag and feel better about yourself.” This meant that maybe that XXL tenty-looking dress would fit me!
So I went on a seven minute Old Navy shopping spree and picked out a few things that seemed more comfortable and less DEATH BY WAISTBAND inducing than the dress I was already wearing, took my adorable but agonizing shoes off right there at the check stand and then stopped in the mall bathroom to change my dress. The mall bathroom, like all other mall bathrooms on the face of the planet, wasn’t air conditioned and the on/off dress process was sweatier than it needed to be but it turned out that the XXL tenty dress from Old Navy was probably even a size too big so I had no problem with the maneuver.
I walked out of my stall and realized that oh dear…the boob coverage of this tenty dress was minimal and the bra I happened to be wearing was strapless, therefore it was large and totally hanging out the front of the dress. But whatever, I would make due. I didn’t care.
I spent the entire drive up to SF fiddling with the dress, the straps, the bra…trying to figure out how to make it acceptable, but no dice. And then the closer I got to SF, the more the temperature dropped. In 93 degree heat, people might be more understanding of the emergency tenty dress and the hangy-outy bra…but in 75 degree San Francisco, people would wonder why the heck I couldn’t keep my shit together enough on this perfect, beautiful day to select appropriate undergarments.
BUT WAIT! I bought a few tank tops while I was at the Old Navy! I’ve seen people wear tank tops under strappier dresses to make them acceptable! I can do that too! Where to change though? Oh! I know! How about in my car, which is parked in this primo spot on the street, six feet away from people at their desks?
OKAY!
So if you happened to be minding your own business at your street-level desk yesterday evening and you saw a fat girl pulling her dress down to her waist and re-dressing herself, I apologize. The strapless bra is ugly, I know.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
2011 > 1994
My firm's "prom" was last night at City Hall in San Francisco and was easily the fanciest party I'd ever been to.
I took Ho Ho Lo as my date and we met up with Janelle and her boyfriend for pre-prom drinks, where we had multiple bottles of "I wouldn't spend $70 for a bottle of champagne, but I'll spend $35 each on half bottles of champagne" champagne.
We partied like 30-somethings until our feet hurt and we decided to take ourselves home for late night onion rings and tuna melts and left the 20-somethings to get rip roaring drunk on the company dime.
And then we woke up in the 5AM hour (because we're both early risers no matter how hard we might try to sleep in), showered, dressed and drove home, discussing 80's movies and their requisite sax solos and then going "Dude, my feet still hurt but I am SO GLAD that I'm not hungover!" "Dude, ME TOO!"
But damn, we looked good:
And for contrast, let me remind you of how awesome I looked at the last prom I went to:
My 2011 prom date has a much nicer rack.
I took Ho Ho Lo as my date and we met up with Janelle and her boyfriend for pre-prom drinks, where we had multiple bottles of "I wouldn't spend $70 for a bottle of champagne, but I'll spend $35 each on half bottles of champagne" champagne.
We partied like 30-somethings until our feet hurt and we decided to take ourselves home for late night onion rings and tuna melts and left the 20-somethings to get rip roaring drunk on the company dime.
And then we woke up in the 5AM hour (because we're both early risers no matter how hard we might try to sleep in), showered, dressed and drove home, discussing 80's movies and their requisite sax solos and then going "Dude, my feet still hurt but I am SO GLAD that I'm not hungover!" "Dude, ME TOO!"
But damn, we looked good:
And for contrast, let me remind you of how awesome I looked at the last prom I went to:
My 2011 prom date has a much nicer rack.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
June 13th 2009, 2010 and 2011
I've already posted all three of these pictures but I don't care. I love this kid and there's gonna be a picture of me holding him every year on June 13th until he's too heavy. Or until he goes away to college. Whichever comes first.
Hopefully I'll keep getting thinner and he'll get better at sitting still.
Hopefully I'll keep getting thinner and he'll get better at sitting still.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Dailey Method
Oh hey. You know what's fun and exciting? Finding SURPRISE! pictures of yourself exercising on the www (I added a tiny arrow so you could find Waldo):
On the upside, I don't look all that much worse than anyone else.
And I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, my feet ARE NOT resting on the bar. I'm straight legging it. Those weenies and their bent legs aren't hardcore LIKE ME.
On the upside, I don't look all that much worse than anyone else.
And I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, my feet ARE NOT resting on the bar. I'm straight legging it. Those weenies and their bent legs aren't hardcore LIKE ME.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Office Worker
When I was 19 I dated Joe v1. His BFF at the time was a dude named Matt. Joe and I were joined at the hip with Matt and his girlfriend Kindra. Matt and Kindra broke up and not that long afterwards, Joe and I broke up too (in unrelated events). Matt and I stayed friends for a while but we eventually lost touch. There was one meet up for coffee sometime post-college, but that was about it.
Fast forward 10 years and I started working at this client site and I figured out or somehow already knew that Matt was an employee here. I looked him up, we said “WHOA! LONG TIME NO SEE!” and other than the high level update on life since we’d last seen each other, that was it.
A couple years later I started dating Joe v2. He and Matt had also sort of lost touch over the years (which I think had something to do with the fact that OOPS! Matt married one of Joe v1’s ex-girlfriends!) but still talked once in a while.
Matt and I didn’t talk during the Joe v2 period but I know he knew that Joe and I were back together. There wasn’t a particular reason for the non-talking other than Joe+Elizabeth+Matt+Kindra was 100 years ago and now Matt is married to Joe’s ex girlfriend (who I met once and she was NOT in the Elizabeth fan club) so we were never going to be Joe+Elizabeth+Matt+Meghan anyway.
And then I started working on a new project last summer, right in the middle of the whole breakup v2 fiasco, and one day I looked up and went “OH MY GOD.” Because you know what, Internet? Not only did Matt work somewhere here (there are a billion buildings so we were not at risk of running into each other and even if we did, I’m cool with Matt so I would be happy to see him), but OH HEY! IT TURNS OUT HIS WIFE DOES TOOOOOOO!
And she sat like 50 feet away from me.
My ex-boyfriend twice removed’s ex-girlfriend who was now married to the ex-boyfriend twice removed’s ex-BFF.
Yay for me. But bonus mice: I’m pretty sure Joe would have shit his pants if he’d known that he had so many ex-girlfriends working in such close proximity to each other.
I’m still not sure if this was the correct decision because Meghan was Matt’s wife and Matt is an old friend of mine so it would have been nice to be nice to her, but I was still stunned from the Joe v2 fallout and opted to stay quiet about it all. I don’t work in that building anymore so the daily risk of running into her in the bathroom (again) was over, but I wish I could have been like “OMG! Meghan! Hey!” and had everything be okay.
[Sidebar: I’ve had the same hair stylist for more than ten years, minus a year or so where I went to Shasta – the BFF of the wife of a dude I went to high school with (complicated, I know) but then eventually bailed on her and went back to Laurie, my one true hairstylist love who has never let me down. Well last week I was getting my hairs did and I looked up and saw Shasta WHO NOW WORKS IN THE SAME SALON AS LAURIE and I really wish I’d taken the opportunity be all “Hey! I know you! You are Amy’s friend! You cut my hair a few times!” but I didn’t (but I did tell Laurie that OMG SHE USED TO CUT MY HAIR FOR THAT SPLIT SECOND 100 YEARS AGO WHEN YOU WEREN’T DOING IT, which I’m sure will get back to Shasta) and I saw her recognize me as someone she probably knows and now that I opened my trap to Laurie, the cat is probably out of the bag but I missed my window to be cool about it.
My point here is that I HATE when I randomly weenie out and don’t call out that OMG I KNOW YOU because it makes it even more awkward in the long run.]
So I never said anything to Meghan, but whatever because I switched projects and switched buildings and blah blah blah.
And then one day I was on a web meeting (which is every day) and I was looking at the attendee list and I’M SORRY, WHAT? Turns out Matt is working on this project too! And now I’m in web meetings with Matt three or four times a week and even had to ask him to get this one particular document for me today.
And the whole point of this post is to give you the background for what really just boils down to one thing:
It’s really, really weird to hear him talk on these calls because in my head he’s 20 years old but suddenly it’s 15 years later and we’re adults and we’re talking about businessy things and we’re not eating burritos on the beach or shaving his head in my basement or discussing whether or not he should throw his mack at my friend Valerie (who is now married with two kids).
So when I hear him talk about TPS reports and the policy about that other thing and the strategy relating to that other thing, a little bit of smoke comes out of my ears. My brain can’t process that the dude who spent half of his 21st birthday passed out on the toilet (I have photographic proof) is now a player in my daily game of “Office Worker.”
Fast forward 10 years and I started working at this client site and I figured out or somehow already knew that Matt was an employee here. I looked him up, we said “WHOA! LONG TIME NO SEE!” and other than the high level update on life since we’d last seen each other, that was it.
A couple years later I started dating Joe v2. He and Matt had also sort of lost touch over the years (which I think had something to do with the fact that OOPS! Matt married one of Joe v1’s ex-girlfriends!) but still talked once in a while.
Matt and I didn’t talk during the Joe v2 period but I know he knew that Joe and I were back together. There wasn’t a particular reason for the non-talking other than Joe+Elizabeth+Matt+Kindra was 100 years ago and now Matt is married to Joe’s ex girlfriend (who I met once and she was NOT in the Elizabeth fan club) so we were never going to be Joe+Elizabeth+Matt+Meghan anyway.
And then I started working on a new project last summer, right in the middle of the whole breakup v2 fiasco, and one day I looked up and went “OH MY GOD.” Because you know what, Internet? Not only did Matt work somewhere here (there are a billion buildings so we were not at risk of running into each other and even if we did, I’m cool with Matt so I would be happy to see him), but OH HEY! IT TURNS OUT HIS WIFE DOES TOOOOOOO!
And she sat like 50 feet away from me.
My ex-boyfriend twice removed’s ex-girlfriend who was now married to the ex-boyfriend twice removed’s ex-BFF.
Yay for me. But bonus mice: I’m pretty sure Joe would have shit his pants if he’d known that he had so many ex-girlfriends working in such close proximity to each other.
I’m still not sure if this was the correct decision because Meghan was Matt’s wife and Matt is an old friend of mine so it would have been nice to be nice to her, but I was still stunned from the Joe v2 fallout and opted to stay quiet about it all. I don’t work in that building anymore so the daily risk of running into her in the bathroom (again) was over, but I wish I could have been like “OMG! Meghan! Hey!” and had everything be okay.
[Sidebar: I’ve had the same hair stylist for more than ten years, minus a year or so where I went to Shasta – the BFF of the wife of a dude I went to high school with (complicated, I know) but then eventually bailed on her and went back to Laurie, my one true hairstylist love who has never let me down. Well last week I was getting my hairs did and I looked up and saw Shasta WHO NOW WORKS IN THE SAME SALON AS LAURIE and I really wish I’d taken the opportunity be all “Hey! I know you! You are Amy’s friend! You cut my hair a few times!” but I didn’t (but I did tell Laurie that OMG SHE USED TO CUT MY HAIR FOR THAT SPLIT SECOND 100 YEARS AGO WHEN YOU WEREN’T DOING IT, which I’m sure will get back to Shasta) and I saw her recognize me as someone she probably knows and now that I opened my trap to Laurie, the cat is probably out of the bag but I missed my window to be cool about it.
My point here is that I HATE when I randomly weenie out and don’t call out that OMG I KNOW YOU because it makes it even more awkward in the long run.]
So I never said anything to Meghan, but whatever because I switched projects and switched buildings and blah blah blah.
And then one day I was on a web meeting (which is every day) and I was looking at the attendee list and I’M SORRY, WHAT? Turns out Matt is working on this project too! And now I’m in web meetings with Matt three or four times a week and even had to ask him to get this one particular document for me today.
And the whole point of this post is to give you the background for what really just boils down to one thing:
It’s really, really weird to hear him talk on these calls because in my head he’s 20 years old but suddenly it’s 15 years later and we’re adults and we’re talking about businessy things and we’re not eating burritos on the beach or shaving his head in my basement or discussing whether or not he should throw his mack at my friend Valerie (who is now married with two kids).
So when I hear him talk about TPS reports and the policy about that other thing and the strategy relating to that other thing, a little bit of smoke comes out of my ears. My brain can’t process that the dude who spent half of his 21st birthday passed out on the toilet (I have photographic proof) is now a player in my daily game of “Office Worker.”
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Favorite People
My magical photo-to-blog-post thing isn't working these days and usually the pictures aren't anything that I MUST! SHOW! THE! INTERNET! so I don't worry about reposting but this one is worth the effort:
If you didn't know, I adore those two.
She is getting less and less cranky and even had a smile for Aunt Elizabeth yesterday.
He is getting more and more charming by the minute, which I wouldn't have thought was possible since he has had me wrapped around his little finger since the day he was born and held onto my finger.
He loves baseball. LOVES baseball. My parents keep a yard stick by the front door for all their poking-at-things needs (which come up pretty frequently, believe it or not) and now that they are grandparents to a young man who ends up rolling toys under the couch, it has extra value. An unexpected value: My baseball loving nephew uses it as a bat (don't tell Grandpa) and gets into a batter's stance and swings (sorta...more like a golf swing than a baseball swing though) at his ball and then runs across the living room and "slides."
It's hilarious. But the part that BLOWS MY MIND at how observant he is? He has recently started putting socks on his hands as batting gloves.
He kills me dead.
And then tack on how sweet and loving he is to everyone, but especially to his baby cousin, and if I wasn't already dead from everything else he does, I'd die twice from how sweet he is to her.
If you didn't know, I adore those two.
She is getting less and less cranky and even had a smile for Aunt Elizabeth yesterday.
He is getting more and more charming by the minute, which I wouldn't have thought was possible since he has had me wrapped around his little finger since the day he was born and held onto my finger.
He loves baseball. LOVES baseball. My parents keep a yard stick by the front door for all their poking-at-things needs (which come up pretty frequently, believe it or not) and now that they are grandparents to a young man who ends up rolling toys under the couch, it has extra value. An unexpected value: My baseball loving nephew uses it as a bat (don't tell Grandpa) and gets into a batter's stance and swings (sorta...more like a golf swing than a baseball swing though) at his ball and then runs across the living room and "slides."
It's hilarious. But the part that BLOWS MY MIND at how observant he is? He has recently started putting socks on his hands as batting gloves.
He kills me dead.
And then tack on how sweet and loving he is to everyone, but especially to his baby cousin, and if I wasn't already dead from everything else he does, I'd die twice from how sweet he is to her.
Tick? NEVER!
Disclosure: I had really awful cramps yesterday morning, which isn't something I've really ever suffered from so I was feeling like a twelve year old girl who wanted to go home from school because she had her period.
I was telling the 25-year-old I work with about my OMG I MIGHT DIE TODAY status and she was like "I think that's just your biological clock starting to tick."
And #1, I LOLLED.
#2, GOD FORBID.
I was telling the 25-year-old I work with about my OMG I MIGHT DIE TODAY status and she was like "I think that's just your biological clock starting to tick."
And #1, I LOLLED.
#2, GOD FORBID.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Farah
So I have this (faux) cousin Farah who is an actress and singer in NY and she's doing a show here in CA right now, which is something I've already told you.
That chick is a SINGER, but I thought that all the fancy Broadway singers were SINGERS because she's the only fancy Broadway singer I know. There's been a fair amount of press flying around about her lately (or maybe there always is, but it's only recently being emailed to me by various family members?) that calls her out as being a belter, but again, I thought that was everybody who made a living that way.
Except then I went to go see opening night of her show on Saturday and I realized that DUDE! The other people in this show can sing, but Farah was the only SINGER! She only had one big, belty number but she was the only one who had one at all.
Here's one of the WHOA! items that has ended up in my in-box lately:
And Natalie, I thought you'd be interested in this one because they're talking about her time as a Pink Lady:
http://www.playbill.com/multimedia/video/4536.html
So, Internet...here are the points I'm trying to make on a hazy (outside and in my brain) Monday morning:
1. I've always known Farah kicked some ass and was a fantastic, entertaining performer, but I've only recently realized that she is in a league of her own. She has always been my bar for professional stage performers and I'm just now figuring out that she set the bar exceptionally high.
2. I'm proud of her.
3. I'm proud that she is not only an exceptional singer, but she's also an exceptional friend. It's a shame that her father's death is what brought us closer together, but there's nothing like a tragedy to remind you who your people are.
That chick is a SINGER, but I thought that all the fancy Broadway singers were SINGERS because she's the only fancy Broadway singer I know. There's been a fair amount of press flying around about her lately (or maybe there always is, but it's only recently being emailed to me by various family members?) that calls her out as being a belter, but again, I thought that was everybody who made a living that way.
Except then I went to go see opening night of her show on Saturday and I realized that DUDE! The other people in this show can sing, but Farah was the only SINGER! She only had one big, belty number but she was the only one who had one at all.
Here's one of the WHOA! items that has ended up in my in-box lately:
And Natalie, I thought you'd be interested in this one because they're talking about her time as a Pink Lady:
http://www.playbill.com/multimedia/video/4536.html
So, Internet...here are the points I'm trying to make on a hazy (outside and in my brain) Monday morning:
1. I've always known Farah kicked some ass and was a fantastic, entertaining performer, but I've only recently realized that she is in a league of her own. She has always been my bar for professional stage performers and I'm just now figuring out that she set the bar exceptionally high.
2. I'm proud of her.
3. I'm proud that she is not only an exceptional singer, but she's also an exceptional friend. It's a shame that her father's death is what brought us closer together, but there's nothing like a tragedy to remind you who your people are.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
NASBPOTD
I have a lot going on here: military, owls and animal print...so i'm changing my shoes.
Less is more, yo. I think that's a quote straight out of the mouth of Coco Chanel.
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