One of my docs just gave me a hundred dollar Visa gift card as an early Christmas present.
Jacket or no jacket? Massage or no massage? A facial? My skin has been documented right here as looking like crap. Paint for the house (since I really am going to get back into the home improvement, what with the weather about to majorly suck for three months)? Just use it towards presents for other people? Or keep it till March when I'll really be needing to buy something to cheer myself the fuck up?
I got no idea.
xoxo
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
hot rocks report
While I was forcing myself to watch the instructional video last night--despite the cheesy music, the bad production values, and the aesthetically displeasing massage room--it occurred to me that the hot stone massage consisted of 80% therapist messing about with the stones and 20% client actually being massaged. And playing around with it with G and M2 today, my impressions were confirmed. We were all united in thinking there were parts of it that might be a nice luxurious adjunct to a regular massage (like warm towels!), but that we wouldn't be lining up to get a whole treatment consisting of nothing but. But, on the other hand, I'm kind of curious now to get one some place that does a lot of them just to see if I could be convinced to find it fabulous.
It would be, like, research, rather than a waste of money, right? RIGHT?
NO, IT WOULD BE LIKE HALF A FUCKING LEATHER JACKET.
Ahem. I'll stop whining about that any day now. Any.day.now.
xoxo
Addendum: Actually, I take it back. It's a whole leather jacket. I just checked a local place. $165.
It would be, like, research, rather than a waste of money, right? RIGHT?
NO, IT WOULD BE LIKE HALF A FUCKING LEATHER JACKET.
Ahem. I'll stop whining about that any day now. Any.day.now.
xoxo
Addendum: Actually, I take it back. It's a whole leather jacket. I just checked a local place. $165.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
december misc, procrastination issue
I need to watch the DVD before tomorrow's meeting of the Everybody Must Get Stoned committee, plus I need to make up some Merry Xmas arnica for M2 and G, but whilst I screw around on the internet instead, let me tell you a few things.
1.) I am getting callouses on both hands right where my middle finger meets the palm. This is not good for performing massage therapy. My hands are supposed to be as soft as the proverbial baby's bottom, yo. You know what this means, don't you? It means I have to get weightlifting gloves and then look like a douchebag wearing them at the gym lifting my weeny little weights. The affronts to my dignity never end. Sigh.
2.) I am reading Keith Richard's autobiography (on the Kindle--no tendinitis, baby!) and quite enjoying it. Keef says when he became a songwriter, something changed in him. He became more detached, more of an observer, always watching people and listening to what they said, because any little action, any little snatch of conversation could be the genesis of a song. See? Me n' Keef are kindred spirits. If only he rode the Prison Bus, just imagine how much career success the boy coulda had.
3.) I know I promised pictures of Kitschmas at Andrea's (which is like Breakfast at Tiffany's, only with less Audrey Hepburn) but I'm not *quite* done.
4.) But speaking of Christmas decorating abominations--I've got a lot to say. Remember how when people used to go bananas and over-decorate, it made people drive by their houses to gawk and maybe netted a puff piece in the local newspaper? To judge from my neighborhood, those days are gone. Now the house covered in 200,000 lights with 43 different glowing statues in the front yard seems to be the norm, not the exception. I could walk around here for a mere five minutes with the video camera on my new iPod and document ten of them. And if I wasn't so damn lazy, plus technically unsure of how to use that video function, I just might! Really, somehow over the past ten years, the concepts of "restraint" and "good taste" seem to have vanished. (Though, honestly? This *is* the lower North Shore. Our major highway landmarks are a giant orange dinosaur, a field of fake cows, and a humongous tiki hut. Good taste and restraint are relative here.)
5.) My tongue hurts.
xoxo
1.) I am getting callouses on both hands right where my middle finger meets the palm. This is not good for performing massage therapy. My hands are supposed to be as soft as the proverbial baby's bottom, yo. You know what this means, don't you? It means I have to get weightlifting gloves and then look like a douchebag wearing them at the gym lifting my weeny little weights. The affronts to my dignity never end. Sigh.
2.) I am reading Keith Richard's autobiography (on the Kindle--no tendinitis, baby!) and quite enjoying it. Keef says when he became a songwriter, something changed in him. He became more detached, more of an observer, always watching people and listening to what they said, because any little action, any little snatch of conversation could be the genesis of a song. See? Me n' Keef are kindred spirits. If only he rode the Prison Bus, just imagine how much career success the boy coulda had.
3.) I know I promised pictures of Kitschmas at Andrea's (which is like Breakfast at Tiffany's, only with less Audrey Hepburn) but I'm not *quite* done.
4.) But speaking of Christmas decorating abominations--I've got a lot to say. Remember how when people used to go bananas and over-decorate, it made people drive by their houses to gawk and maybe netted a puff piece in the local newspaper? To judge from my neighborhood, those days are gone. Now the house covered in 200,000 lights with 43 different glowing statues in the front yard seems to be the norm, not the exception. I could walk around here for a mere five minutes with the video camera on my new iPod and document ten of them. And if I wasn't so damn lazy, plus technically unsure of how to use that video function, I just might! Really, somehow over the past ten years, the concepts of "restraint" and "good taste" seem to have vanished. (Though, honestly? This *is* the lower North Shore. Our major highway landmarks are a giant orange dinosaur, a field of fake cows, and a humongous tiki hut. Good taste and restraint are relative here.)
5.) My tongue hurts.
xoxo
Friday, December 3, 2010
in which our sad national trade deficit saves me from myself
I went to the Nordstrom Rack today. Why? Because it's sorta kinda right next door to Pier 1, where I was going to peruse the Christmas decorations and see if there was anything suitably blingy for my holiday decor. There was absolutely no reason for me to go into the Nordstrom Rack, rather than past it. I am NOT supposed to be spending money on nonessentials that are unrelated to Christmas. Especially since I've been actually using the heat in my house for the past couple weeks; next month's electric bill should be, ahem, interesting.
But in I went. I like to look at the marked-down designer purses. What can I say? We all have our hobbies. Then I wandered over into the "contemporary" clothing section. And there I saw it. A Michael Kors black leather biker-style jacket, originally almost $400, Rack-priced at $165. OMFG. The leather was like fucking buttah. It was so soft, so supple, I wanted to marry that jacket and make little wallet babies with it. Or something.
Andrea, I said to myself, you just bought the expensive shoes you really, really wanted because they were half price. And you just bought a runner for the foyer--desperately needed since you tore the gross carpeting out of there this summer when you were taking a fit that one day, and also on sale, but still. And you spent a crapload of extra money on food for Thanksgiving. You CANNOT have a new $165 jacket, no matter that it is the most beautiful jacket on the face of the earth and you would look smoking hot in it.
So I wandered over into the active wear to see if there were any cheap yoga pants (nope) and I looked at some Lucky Brand t-shirts, and the whole time I was saying to myself that the shoes were my birthday present to myself and the jacket could be my Christmas present and that if my dad were alive, I would have bought and brought it home and said "Look what you just bought me for Xmas! Don't you have good taste?!?" And then finally, I pulled myself together and I said Andrea, go back and look at that jacket one more time. If it's not made in China, you can have it.
But here's one of the things I bought in Pier 1 where I *did* actually purchase Chinese-made crap.
In case you can't tell, it's me in ornament form: barbell, headphones, bangs in the face, eye shadow at the gym. I don't know how I'ma display it without actually putting up the big tree, which I'm not, but it had to be bought.
Plus bonus gun show! (I think eating pumpkin ice cream makes your triceps grow, 'cause mine are freaking popping all of a sudden.)
I want that jacket. Boohoo. Feel bad for me. Heh.
Addendum: I think this is it. Tell me that wouldn't look the shit on me.
xoxo
But in I went. I like to look at the marked-down designer purses. What can I say? We all have our hobbies. Then I wandered over into the "contemporary" clothing section. And there I saw it. A Michael Kors black leather biker-style jacket, originally almost $400, Rack-priced at $165. OMFG. The leather was like fucking buttah. It was so soft, so supple, I wanted to marry that jacket and make little wallet babies with it. Or something.
Andrea, I said to myself, you just bought the expensive shoes you really, really wanted because they were half price. And you just bought a runner for the foyer--desperately needed since you tore the gross carpeting out of there this summer when you were taking a fit that one day, and also on sale, but still. And you spent a crapload of extra money on food for Thanksgiving. You CANNOT have a new $165 jacket, no matter that it is the most beautiful jacket on the face of the earth and you would look smoking hot in it.
So I wandered over into the active wear to see if there were any cheap yoga pants (nope) and I looked at some Lucky Brand t-shirts, and the whole time I was saying to myself that the shoes were my birthday present to myself and the jacket could be my Christmas present and that if my dad were alive, I would have bought and brought it home and said "Look what you just bought me for Xmas! Don't you have good taste?!?" And then finally, I pulled myself together and I said Andrea, go back and look at that jacket one more time. If it's not made in China, you can have it.
But here's one of the things I bought in Pier 1 where I *did* actually purchase Chinese-made crap.
In case you can't tell, it's me in ornament form: barbell, headphones, bangs in the face, eye shadow at the gym. I don't know how I'ma display it without actually putting up the big tree, which I'm not, but it had to be bought.
Plus bonus gun show! (I think eating pumpkin ice cream makes your triceps grow, 'cause mine are freaking popping all of a sudden.)
I want that jacket. Boohoo. Feel bad for me. Heh.
Addendum: I think this is it. Tell me that wouldn't look the shit on me.
xoxo
motivation
Just in case any of you were planning on sitting on your couch eating cake this weekend.
Go get some exercise, THEN sit on your couch and eat cake. Andrea said it was alright.
xoxo
Go get some exercise, THEN sit on your couch and eat cake. Andrea said it was alright.
xoxo
Thursday, December 2, 2010
it's that time of year
So, as I just mentioned *not* in this blog, I bought my first Christmas present today. The number of people I need to actually buy anything for this year is small. Money for the niece and nephew. Money in the form of an American Express personailized gift card for my son (along with the stocking stuffers). Money towards the group gift to our docs at work. Money to buy cookie-making supplies because the chicks in my department have decided we're doing a cookie swap instead of secret santa. (Have I bitched about *that* yet? Pain in my fucking ass.) Mostly it's all hand over cash and effin' bake. But there are a few friends I exchange gifts with, and one of those has been taken care of. Yay, me.
That, boys and girls, is the sum total of my holiday preparation so far. Other than the fact that I cleaned the hell out of my house prior to Thanksgiving, so now all I have to do is keep it clean. Somehow. I did ask D last weekend whether we should start decorating and he said, no, it was too early. Probably this weekend I will attempt a bit of that. After last year's Merry Kitschmas, I really need to outdo myself.
There will, of course, be photos. Stay tuned. As they say.
xoxo
That, boys and girls, is the sum total of my holiday preparation so far. Other than the fact that I cleaned the hell out of my house prior to Thanksgiving, so now all I have to do is keep it clean. Somehow. I did ask D last weekend whether we should start decorating and he said, no, it was too early. Probably this weekend I will attempt a bit of that. After last year's Merry Kitschmas, I really need to outdo myself.
There will, of course, be photos. Stay tuned. As they say.
xoxo
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
welcome to december misc
1.) Well, I experimented and it is possible to put my phone on silent and still have the alarm work. On the other hand, after I told my kid that I would kill him if he texted me at 4 am again, last night he emailed me to tell me we're out of Q-tips. So it's all a win-win.
2.) Every time the commercial for "The Fighter" comes on TV, I get all excited and tell D I can't wait till it comes out. My excitement has proved infectious and he thinks it's really cool that it was filmed in Lowell, etc. (Perhaps not infectious enough that I can convince him to see it in the theater, but where there's life there's hope. Or some other platitude.) Anyway, I was lying in bed this morning with those kind of random thoughts that flit through one's head flitting through mine, and it occurred to me that while it is a boon to have Wahlberg, Affleck, and Damon as big box office stars so that they can keep having movies set in eastern Massachusetts (all of which I am compelled to see) with leads who don't fucking butcher the accent, they're getting older. Which is to say, we need a new crop of Massachusetts boys as up-n-comers. Someone's gonna have to carry the torch so that in fifteen years the Boston Crime Film genre doesn't die out and leave me with nothing to see at the movies. God. Someone get on this.
2a.) Why doesn't Maura Tierney get roles in those movies? Is she typecast as a TV actress or is it just that she's too old by Hollywood standards to act opposite Affleck/Wahlberg/Damon? I always liked her when I used to watch ER. She's a good actor, and pretty in that "normal person pretty" way.
3.) I made the traditional after-Thanksgiving turkey soup, but I had so much leftover turkey (see: emergency preparedness extra turkey breast, which btw, caused M1 to say "only you, Andrea" which, yeah) that it is kinda like turkey sludge. Delicious though!
4.) The shoes I wanted for my bday were on sale for about half price on Zappos so I bought them. We're also getting a surprise bonus in our paychecks this week (for me $100, which is about $65 net) so I suppose I shouldn't feel guilty for treating myself.
That's all I have to say about any of that. Namaste. Bitches.
xoxo
2.) Every time the commercial for "The Fighter" comes on TV, I get all excited and tell D I can't wait till it comes out. My excitement has proved infectious and he thinks it's really cool that it was filmed in Lowell, etc. (Perhaps not infectious enough that I can convince him to see it in the theater, but where there's life there's hope. Or some other platitude.) Anyway, I was lying in bed this morning with those kind of random thoughts that flit through one's head flitting through mine, and it occurred to me that while it is a boon to have Wahlberg, Affleck, and Damon as big box office stars so that they can keep having movies set in eastern Massachusetts (all of which I am compelled to see) with leads who don't fucking butcher the accent, they're getting older. Which is to say, we need a new crop of Massachusetts boys as up-n-comers. Someone's gonna have to carry the torch so that in fifteen years the Boston Crime Film genre doesn't die out and leave me with nothing to see at the movies. God. Someone get on this.
2a.) Why doesn't Maura Tierney get roles in those movies? Is she typecast as a TV actress or is it just that she's too old by Hollywood standards to act opposite Affleck/Wahlberg/Damon? I always liked her when I used to watch ER. She's a good actor, and pretty in that "normal person pretty" way.
3.) I made the traditional after-Thanksgiving turkey soup, but I had so much leftover turkey (see: emergency preparedness extra turkey breast, which btw, caused M1 to say "only you, Andrea" which, yeah) that it is kinda like turkey sludge. Delicious though!
4.) The shoes I wanted for my bday were on sale for about half price on Zappos so I bought them. We're also getting a surprise bonus in our paychecks this week (for me $100, which is about $65 net) so I suppose I shouldn't feel guilty for treating myself.
That's all I have to say about any of that. Namaste. Bitches.
xoxo
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