Thursday, June 29, 2006

so that you'll return to read my blog because i have something new on it, unlike nicholas

We're heading to Vermont tomorrow, at the crack of dawn. Check for our schedule :)

As many of you know, it poured here for several days. Water spewing out of sewers, teens swept away in raging creeks, metro stations flooded-- the whole shebang.

I really thought my garden would rot. Yesterday, after it cleared, I went out and found the poppies a bit battered-- but the dogs like to poop on them, so that wasn't new-- and everything else-- well, thriving. Weeds, basil, sunflowers, and all.

Somehow, despite my application of DEET-containing repellent, I got bitten multiple times. Which didn't surprise me so much, other than the fact that I was wearing pants and either one got down them or one bit me through the pants THREE TIMES on my bumcheek.

Someone made a huge mistake when they built DC on a swamp.

I made a kickass creamy roasted garlic soup over the weekend. Cleaned us all right out. for the recipe (just type in garlic soup).

Why do people like blocking out the light so much? I hate blinds. Blinds are invented by the D-man. There's a store near us that gives you in-store financing so that you cann afford the blinds of your choice. Going into debt for blinds. That's like taking out a loan to buy trashy magazines. Just leave the windows alone, people. Back away from the blinds.


My cubicle neighbor and I sit next to wall-to-ceiling windows that look out over a fairly picturesque street. I have total control over one blind, he has total control over another, and the one between us we fight over, but in really subtle ways. When he's out, I pull that bad baby all the way up. When he comes back, he lowers it half-way but keeps the slats open, and then when I go out for lunch, I return to find it closed and down.

Scrubs (the show)

Now, who thinks this is funny?

J.D. is somehow lying on the ground, prone at the feet of the girl he has a major crush on. They're supposed to go on a date that night. One of the ways the shows' creators try to convince us that they're perfect for each other is they both say "zoom, zoom, zoom" after they say something cutting.

Him: lying prone.
Her: "See you at seven-- and wear something slutty! zoom, zoom, zoom."

Its magnificance has not palled, even though I repeat it to K. daily. Man, I love Scrubs.


Something intellectual, because we are supposed to wonder here, after all:

Scratching my ear--

Oh, I dunno. Have a happy 4th, chickens.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

mawwiage is what bwings us together today

Conversation from last night:

K. and I are sitting, having bowls of the chicken soup I made over the weekend following a new recipe.

Me: It's just not that great.
Him: I like it.
Me: Is it the best chicken soup you've ever had?
Him: No.
Me: Then it's not good enough.

Conversation from this morning:

7:00 am
Him: Are you getting up?
Me: You get up first for once.

Injured sleep. Argue a few more times.

7.25 am
Me: fine. You win.

I get up and head blearily for the shower.

Him: it's not a competition.
Me: I'm getting in the shower, and you're still in bed. I'd say you won.

Victorious silence from the bedroom.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Burning Buttocks and Bush

I am a blog reader. Tiny Kingdom over at ivillage is handsdown my favorite. This post, while not her most outrageous or even her funniest, is really sweet.

In other news:

I was thinking about my peer group, the early twenties, and how I really don't know one person who likes Bush. I'm sure they're out there, but they just don't float through my vicinity. Then I was thinking how I might respect someone my age if they did like Bush, but only if they were a lone dissenter. I'm fond of lone dissenters, being an Appalachian southerner and all. And then I thought-- but wait! What the heck would they like him for? They have to have a reason, after all...economy? No. Foreign relations? No. Good work ethic? (DOES ANYONE REMEMBER when he was running for president the first time and we found he plays video games for an hour a day? And then after 9/11, no one ever talked about it again? WHAT happened to that?) So no to that as well. Environment? HELL NO, despite his little Hawaii water sop. Fiscal policies? I am practicing meditative breathing as I just leave it at-- no.

So no, lone dissenter, I would not respect you after all.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

bright and gay I shall remain

Many thanks to Nicholas and his creativity over at That's me, that's K., and those are things we've said on this blog-- but no, we have not actually made any CDs.

It's Wednesday, it's humid and gray, and my house is a mess, but most things are well with the world. I was reading a blog during my idle time the other day and found a girl, my age, whose profile identified her as a Quaker interested in "plain dress."

Not knowing precisely what this meant, I googled it. And found that there are many women and men around the country who follow varying levels of plain dress, from the girl who switched from sales to software development so that she could wear her bonnet, to the aforementioned girl my age, who wears conservative cuts and colors not made in sweatshops.

Who knew. I didn't have time to do extensive research, but it made me question my planned purchase of a skinny fuschia t-shirt on Friday. And for those men who don't know what a "skinny" t-shirt is, it's what I call those t-shirts whose material is relatively thin, but not transparent. Transparent are those insanely tissue-tees, which I can't ever wear to work because...well, you know why.

But still. It's nice to know that people my age are at least consciously considering their sartorial choices, even if I have no desire to join them.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Ponder of the Month:

Class, what do you like about yourself?

Me (hand going up and waving frantically): I'll go first!

And I will.

Things I Like About Myself:

-- I am so entranced by my pretty painted toes that I take off my shoes or stare at my feet at least three times daily. And not just today. I do this week after week, as I am a habitual toe-painter.

-- I make the bed nine out of every ten mornings.

-- I dare to love celebrities.

-- I feel guilty when I don't recycle.

-- I don't want to die before I get old. (many people do.)

-- I feed the people I love.

-- I got married young.

-- I read trash and quality.

-- my passion for medieval history.

-- I like hanging out with my family. Including K's family.

-- my deep suspicion of labor-saving and life-improving devices. Such as BlackBerries, Treons, Ipods, and the like. Although, as always, I love my dishwasher.

-- that I don't really care if my husband takes me out for dinner. 40 bucks on dinner and a movie is not a necessary monthly obligation. (And it's a good thing, mr. thrifty-pants).

--the ways I keep surprising myself.

At the risk of being selfish and self-congragulatory, it's a good thing to be nice to yourself. Kiss your knees. Have a mango and a cup of tea. You're probably a nice person.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

we don't have kids. But we do have...

The three dogs (our two, and a houseguest) are getting to be a bit much. This morning, K. and I clung to each other under the covers as the dogs raced around the bed, nails clicking maniacally on the floors, and ending with a grand finale of what can only be described as a catfight, despite their canine identities.

I think it was maybe seven am.

I can only think that the constant barrage of puke, poop, pee, hair, and stunts like opening the refrigerator (oh yes, they can, and they do-- we now have a lock) and removing the single slice of cheese I packed to melt over my lunch of minestrone is preparing me for motherhood.

We came home on Monday to vomit that stained the hardwood floor. I have no idea what it could have been.

Watching our shows on the porch last night, I realized that we had literally locked the dogs outside so that we could enjoy our evening in peace. They didn't mind, as hanging out in the yard and fearlessly attempting to assault every passerby is their idea of a well-spent day, but you know what?

We won't be able to lock our actual children outside.

And they'll grow up enough to open the child-safe lock. By which time, theoretically, they won't eat 15 raw eggs the way Shadow did, and then emit them in various forms all over the house...but still. My cheese might not be safe.

And they'll open the doors that we keep closed so that no one barfs or pees on our bed.


But you know what? If we get a bigger house with more land, we'll probably adopt another dog.

Go figure.