Leaving aside all other considerations, can we just discuss how abysmally stupid a person would have to be to be looking at illegal porn on his laptop in an extremely cramped public space like an airplane? I mean, is this one of those "cries for help, begging to be caught" kinda things or is this pedophile just that stupid? And I mean, WHY? Are you actually going to wank on an airplane? (Don't answer that. If that's common practice, I don't want to know, and god knows, I never even go anywhere anymore. But, ewwwww.)
I'm just assuming you know what I'm talking about but if not, here you go.
The other interesting point to be made is that since everyone's got camera phones and video now, you should think twice, thrice, and another time for good measure, before you do anything in public you don't want the cops, your boss, your mom, or your significant other to see. There's no plausible deniabilty when some stranger captures you on video. Big Brother may or may not be watching, but your fellow citizens probably are. Which is good when it means criminals and predators are caught, obviously, but perhaps not so good when you have certain parts of your life you'd like to keep compartmentalized from other parts. There's nothing illegal or immoral about, say, dressing up like Dolly Parton on the occasional Saturday night, but you might like to have the neighbors or the guy in the next cube over remain blissfully ignorant of your propensity to do so. Which could be difficult should you inadvertently end up on youtube, nomsayin?
In summary, what color should I paint my damn door?
xoxo
Monday, November 28, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
the door
Okay, I dunno what that wall color looks like on your monitor, but it's supposed to be a medium grayed-down aqua. (I say supposed to be, because I'm not sure it's not looking in reality somehow both brighter and darker than it did on the sample I've been looking at on my walls for two years. We'll see after it cures.) The door is poop brown. Ignore the blue painter's tape. The woodwork is oak (I think.) The carpet's being pulled out. I just bought an orange runner on overstock that's gonna only cover a bit of the hardwood.
My first thought is the door should be shiny black, because I like black and aqua together. It looks klassy. But what light comes through that door is the only natural light that hallway gets, and it ain't much. I'm afraid the darkish color on the walls is already too dark and a black door, even if shiny, would look horrid. The next thought is that the door should be cream or the like to lighten shit up. Except I don't wanna think how many coats of paint it would take to cover that brown. Then I thought...orange? That would be cheerful and Andrea-ish. Too much? Other suggestions?
Help me, blog readers of exquisite good taste and discernment.
Also? More 90s channel listening today has brought to my attention that they play far more Bush and No Doubt than would be correlated to how important either of those bands were. The only explanation that makes sense is that Gwen Stefani owns Sirius/XM and/or DirecTV. Hey, she's rich as fuck. It could happen.
xoxo
seasonal music and decor dilemma
I woke up with this song stuck in my head.
I was lying there in bed, waiting for my arm to become functional again after being lain on for x number of hours, and I thought "I will look that up on youtube when I get up and post the video on my blog, because it's seasonal." You know, because of the line "they have never been poor, they have never had the joy of a welfare Christmas" which is, face it, a genius line. Then my mind wandered and I started thinking about the time Mr Barma and I were in this bar and the teeny little Asian cocktail waitress had a huge tattoo that said SUBLIME and it was impossible to know whether she was a mega-fan of the band or whether she just had really solid self-esteem. Imagine my chagrin when I actually got out of bed and to my computer and realized that that song is *not* a Sublime song.
Sigh. The Benevolent L and I just went over this last summer. Bradley Nowell and Art Alexakis are not the same person. Bradley Nowell was the lead singer of Sublime and he OD'd. Art Alexakis was the lead singer of Everclear and he is, as far as I know, still very much alive. But listen to this:
Don't they have a very similar vocal quality? Plus, the 90s were a long time ago. How the hell am I supposed to keep this shit straight?
Anyway, the reason I had "I Will Buy You a New Life" stuck in my head when I woke up was that I must have heard it yesterday while listening to the 90s channel on satellite radio again while I was...wait for it...wait for it...painting my hallway. Yup, if it's a major holiday weekend, that means Andrea is painting shit again. When I finish painting later today, I will try to get a picture up, because I need advice, all y'all. The back door to my porch, which is painted a horrible poop brown, looks especially bad next to the new wall color and I need to know what I should do with it. But now I must go get ready and get my ass to the gym so I can come back and finish that.
Later!
xoxo
I was lying there in bed, waiting for my arm to become functional again after being lain on for x number of hours, and I thought "I will look that up on youtube when I get up and post the video on my blog, because it's seasonal." You know, because of the line "they have never been poor, they have never had the joy of a welfare Christmas" which is, face it, a genius line. Then my mind wandered and I started thinking about the time Mr Barma and I were in this bar and the teeny little Asian cocktail waitress had a huge tattoo that said SUBLIME and it was impossible to know whether she was a mega-fan of the band or whether she just had really solid self-esteem. Imagine my chagrin when I actually got out of bed and to my computer and realized that that song is *not* a Sublime song.
Sigh. The Benevolent L and I just went over this last summer. Bradley Nowell and Art Alexakis are not the same person. Bradley Nowell was the lead singer of Sublime and he OD'd. Art Alexakis was the lead singer of Everclear and he is, as far as I know, still very much alive. But listen to this:
Don't they have a very similar vocal quality? Plus, the 90s were a long time ago. How the hell am I supposed to keep this shit straight?
Anyway, the reason I had "I Will Buy You a New Life" stuck in my head when I woke up was that I must have heard it yesterday while listening to the 90s channel on satellite radio again while I was...wait for it...wait for it...painting my hallway. Yup, if it's a major holiday weekend, that means Andrea is painting shit again. When I finish painting later today, I will try to get a picture up, because I need advice, all y'all. The back door to my porch, which is painted a horrible poop brown, looks especially bad next to the new wall color and I need to know what I should do with it. But now I must go get ready and get my ass to the gym so I can come back and finish that.
Later!
xoxo
Thursday, November 24, 2011
anyone wanna come clean my kitchen?
No? Well, it was worth a try.
I guess I'll just lie here on my loveseat awhile longer, listening to the Reality Bites station on satellite radio and digesting. (Nothing says the holidays like Alice in Chains, yo.) Maybe the good-dishes-washing fairy will come while I get my grunge fix.
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.
xoxo
I guess I'll just lie here on my loveseat awhile longer, listening to the Reality Bites station on satellite radio and digesting. (Nothing says the holidays like Alice in Chains, yo.) Maybe the good-dishes-washing fairy will come while I get my grunge fix.
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.
xoxo
Monday, November 21, 2011
stop the insanity!
Remember this chick?
This post has nothing to do with her. I just wanted to use her catch phrase as my title and it dinged something in the recesses of my brain.
Nope, the insanity I would like to stop is the fact that last night on the way to my house, the Benevolent L and I saw three houses already completely festooned with Christmas lights, one on the Revere Beach Parkway, and two on 107. There was another one we almost counted, but it was decorated in orange lights and we kinda thought it probably was someone who hasn't taken down their Halloween decorations yet. Or maybe they're just gonna multi-purpose them.
N E Way, I do not approve of Christmas lights going up on people's houses the day after Thanksgiving, so I sure as hell do not approve of them in mid-November. I am sorry to bitch about this every year (look back, I'm pretty sure I have!) but it really pisses me off.
But you know what is hilarious? Another thing The Benevolent L and I were talking about is my now-official menopause, and I was telling her that the one bright spot she has to look forward to is that the hormonal mood swings are g.o.n.e. Things that used to irritate me so fucking much (at the wrong time of the month, obvs) no longer do so! I think that is leading us to more of a rant-free and possibly less entertaining blog, boys and girls, but take solace in the fact that some things, like Christmas decorations in the autumn, will continue to prod me to complain.
Plus, if the choice is between entertaining yous people and not having my boobs be sore twenty days out of every month like during the perimenopause hormonal flux, I will take the non-sore boobs. Sorry, but that is just the way it is.
xoxo
This post has nothing to do with her. I just wanted to use her catch phrase as my title and it dinged something in the recesses of my brain.
Nope, the insanity I would like to stop is the fact that last night on the way to my house, the Benevolent L and I saw three houses already completely festooned with Christmas lights, one on the Revere Beach Parkway, and two on 107. There was another one we almost counted, but it was decorated in orange lights and we kinda thought it probably was someone who hasn't taken down their Halloween decorations yet. Or maybe they're just gonna multi-purpose them.
N E Way, I do not approve of Christmas lights going up on people's houses the day after Thanksgiving, so I sure as hell do not approve of them in mid-November. I am sorry to bitch about this every year (look back, I'm pretty sure I have!) but it really pisses me off.
But you know what is hilarious? Another thing The Benevolent L and I were talking about is my now-official menopause, and I was telling her that the one bright spot she has to look forward to is that the hormonal mood swings are g.o.n.e. Things that used to irritate me so fucking much (at the wrong time of the month, obvs) no longer do so! I think that is leading us to more of a rant-free and possibly less entertaining blog, boys and girls, but take solace in the fact that some things, like Christmas decorations in the autumn, will continue to prod me to complain.
Plus, if the choice is between entertaining yous people and not having my boobs be sore twenty days out of every month like during the perimenopause hormonal flux, I will take the non-sore boobs. Sorry, but that is just the way it is.
xoxo
Thursday, November 17, 2011
intrigued, horrified...
It's all on the same continuum, right? This both makes me kinda want to gag, but also to try it. It looks very labor-intensive though. Maybe it's the kind of thing you make for guests you really don't like all that much, such that you get to mess around and make it, then have the added satisfaction of watching them politely eat it when they maybe want to gag? I've given up ever entertaining people I don't actually like, though, so I can't even do that. But maybe it's actually tasty? I know some people swear by Thanksgiving-leftover sandwiches, but that was never a "thing" in my family. As far as I am concerned, cranberry sauce goes on the side of your plate, gets eaten with a fork, and doesn't touch your other food.
What's up with Thanksgiving being so early this year anyway? It seems too close to my birthday, even though it's NOT on the earliest possible date. Maybe I'm just in denial because I ain't ready for all this holiday nonsense, followed by the two to three months of freezing cold and snow nonsense.
In other news, I really need a massage.
Happy Thursday!
xoxo
Saturday, November 12, 2011
really, I'm stepping up to the plate on titles any day now
So. In the last two days I have received two packages from amazon containing birthday presents. (Not too late to visit my wishlist, kids. You have till Friday not to be tardy. You'll just have to pay expedited shipping for your slacking.) One of them contained a medium-sized item (new George Forman grill with the removable plates) and one contained a small-medium item (Total Gym pull up bar). Both of them came encased in giant cloth bags cinched with ribbon. I mean, giant bags. You could fit small children in them. It's fairly hilarious.
My son, purchaser of the pull up bar, sneered at it and said, "I THOUGHT they were going to gift wrap that for me." I was like, "That's it. That *is* the gift wrapping." This was not apparently what he was envisioning when he paid the gift wrap surcharge. On the other hand, I'm sure that giant bag has the potential for many re-uses. Like we could...hide a toddler in there? I dunno. But I'm sure it'll come in handy someday.
It did crack me up. I'm sure this is a cost-cutting device, because now you don't have to pay someone to nicely cut and fold and tape wrapping paper. Some warehouse worker now just needs to select a giant bag that more or less fits the item, plop it in there, and cinch the bag. Et voila!
Does anyone remember the mid-90s amazon? Whenever you bought anything, you got a plethora of freebies: sticky notes, notepads, pens, all kinds of swag. I mean, I know it was advertising, but it was useful shit for free. Eventually, as they took over the world, that got downgraded to bookmarks. And now, not only don't you get anything for nothing, you don't even get real gift wrapping when you pay for it. I do think they were the online company that started the free shipping bandwagon, though, and now most places have it, so I do give them props for that. But, otherwise? Customer service/appreciation has gone down the tubes.
And such is life, I guess. I did notice yesterday that CNN had changed their Penn State terminology to "sex abuse scandal" so apparently I wasn't the only person enraged by their nomenclature on Thursday.
Happy Saturday, kids! Hide n' Seek with giant gift bags starts...NOW!
xoxo
My son, purchaser of the pull up bar, sneered at it and said, "I THOUGHT they were going to gift wrap that for me." I was like, "That's it. That *is* the gift wrapping." This was not apparently what he was envisioning when he paid the gift wrap surcharge. On the other hand, I'm sure that giant bag has the potential for many re-uses. Like we could...hide a toddler in there? I dunno. But I'm sure it'll come in handy someday.
It did crack me up. I'm sure this is a cost-cutting device, because now you don't have to pay someone to nicely cut and fold and tape wrapping paper. Some warehouse worker now just needs to select a giant bag that more or less fits the item, plop it in there, and cinch the bag. Et voila!
Does anyone remember the mid-90s amazon? Whenever you bought anything, you got a plethora of freebies: sticky notes, notepads, pens, all kinds of swag. I mean, I know it was advertising, but it was useful shit for free. Eventually, as they took over the world, that got downgraded to bookmarks. And now, not only don't you get anything for nothing, you don't even get real gift wrapping when you pay for it. I do think they were the online company that started the free shipping bandwagon, though, and now most places have it, so I do give them props for that. But, otherwise? Customer service/appreciation has gone down the tubes.
And such is life, I guess. I did notice yesterday that CNN had changed their Penn State terminology to "sex abuse scandal" so apparently I wasn't the only person enraged by their nomenclature on Thursday.
Happy Saturday, kids! Hide n' Seek with giant gift bags starts...NOW!
xoxo
Thursday, November 10, 2011
you know what is pissing me off? and more again!
CNN keeps referring to the Penn State business as a "sex scandal." No. A married politician cheating on his or her spouse is a sex scandal. A public figure's embarrassing sex tape being leaked is a sex scandal. A celebrity being arrested for visiting prostitutes is a sex scandal. Little boys being fondled and/or sodomized by a grown man in a locker room shower is not a sex scandal. It is a child abuse scandal. Rape =/= sex. Sorry, CNN, you morons, you.
.....................................................................................
In kinder, gentler, much more happy news, I think I forgot to tell you all, but guess who stopped by our offices last week? Our Lil MILF! She is alive, well, still working for the Commonwealth approving people for subsidized housing, still working on her degree, and still without a man. And full of hilarious anecdotes as usual. Miss her! I hugged the crap out of her before remembering she doesn't like to be hugged. Heh. She was hugging back though. I think working here, we desensitized her to the whole not liking to be touched business.
.....................................................................................
And can you stand one more (okay, maybe two more) stories about the online dating fiasco?
1.) So, last week, I added some stuff to my profile. An additional answer to the question "I spend a lot of time thinking about..." was how snoozeworthy all the profiles on here are; try harder, muthafuckas. And we wonder why I don't have me a man. I'm sitting home alone polishing my Miss Congeniality trophy every night. No, seriously though, if you're not gonna love me for me, I don't want you, muthafucka. But I was noticing that since I added that I hadn't gotten any mail from any new people who I hadn't already corresponded with. Which made me conclude that the men of OKC are either humorless, easily intimidated, or offended by comic profanity. Or all three! But then I got mail yesterday from this dude who said, "I *am* trying harder, muthafucka!" and "I think I may be in love", wink wink. Apparently he likes cranky chicks. He invited me to peruse his profile and write back if I thought we might click. Well. First of all he lives 72 miles away in East Bumfuck, NH. Secondly, whilst living in East Bumfuck, NH, he is "mostly off the grid", likes week-long wilderness trips, and thinks everyone ought to own a gun. But he also believes in most of the liberal blue state hooha I do, like gay marriage and abortion rights blah blah. So, I ask you: scary Libertarian survivalist or no? And I probably shouldn't respond to say thanx but no thanx, right?
2.) So the other thing that happened while I was on last night checking out possibly scary Libertarian survivalist profiles was that I got on the side of my screen a "you might like..." of a gentleman whose compatibility with me was apparently so low that on the profile tab where you can see how they answered their multiple choice questions and compare with your own answers, a tab which usually says something like "about you two", it instead said "y'all got problems." I think I laughed for five minutes when I noticed that. I should probably go on a date with someone who the computer says is 40% my enemy just so I can report on the conversation to you all. Maybe including cell phone footage of me throwing my glass of wine in his face or something! Good times.
Okay, that's all for now! Happy Thursday that's really like a Friday...muthafuckas.
xoxo
.....................................................................................
In kinder, gentler, much more happy news, I think I forgot to tell you all, but guess who stopped by our offices last week? Our Lil MILF! She is alive, well, still working for the Commonwealth approving people for subsidized housing, still working on her degree, and still without a man. And full of hilarious anecdotes as usual. Miss her! I hugged the crap out of her before remembering she doesn't like to be hugged. Heh. She was hugging back though. I think working here, we desensitized her to the whole not liking to be touched business.
.....................................................................................
And can you stand one more (okay, maybe two more) stories about the online dating fiasco?
1.) So, last week, I added some stuff to my profile. An additional answer to the question "I spend a lot of time thinking about..." was how snoozeworthy all the profiles on here are; try harder, muthafuckas. And we wonder why I don't have me a man. I'm sitting home alone polishing my Miss Congeniality trophy every night. No, seriously though, if you're not gonna love me for me, I don't want you, muthafucka. But I was noticing that since I added that I hadn't gotten any mail from any new people who I hadn't already corresponded with. Which made me conclude that the men of OKC are either humorless, easily intimidated, or offended by comic profanity. Or all three! But then I got mail yesterday from this dude who said, "I *am* trying harder, muthafucka!" and "I think I may be in love", wink wink. Apparently he likes cranky chicks. He invited me to peruse his profile and write back if I thought we might click. Well. First of all he lives 72 miles away in East Bumfuck, NH. Secondly, whilst living in East Bumfuck, NH, he is "mostly off the grid", likes week-long wilderness trips, and thinks everyone ought to own a gun. But he also believes in most of the liberal blue state hooha I do, like gay marriage and abortion rights blah blah. So, I ask you: scary Libertarian survivalist or no? And I probably shouldn't respond to say thanx but no thanx, right?
2.) So the other thing that happened while I was on last night checking out possibly scary Libertarian survivalist profiles was that I got on the side of my screen a "you might like..." of a gentleman whose compatibility with me was apparently so low that on the profile tab where you can see how they answered their multiple choice questions and compare with your own answers, a tab which usually says something like "about you two", it instead said "y'all got problems." I think I laughed for five minutes when I noticed that. I should probably go on a date with someone who the computer says is 40% my enemy just so I can report on the conversation to you all. Maybe including cell phone footage of me throwing my glass of wine in his face or something! Good times.
Okay, that's all for now! Happy Thursday that's really like a Friday...muthafuckas.
xoxo
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
update
I did wash my hair before going to Home Depot, but I also went to the gym before going to Home Depot, so the sweat probably cancelled out any beautifying effect. Indeed, not only did I not meet my contractor future second ex-husband today, the plethora of orange-clad gentlemen who usually flock to help me did not appear. It was kinda demoralizing. I must really look like shit today. However, even without any help, I found the Badger5, and it costs $99.99 there, as opposed to the $77.whatever it's going for on amazon. With tax, that's close to a thirty dollar difference! God bless the internet. Didn't see any (reasonably priced) kitchen faucets that grabbed me any more than the one I posted, either. I was glad to see the finishes in person, though. The "nickel" is definitely the way to go. D and Ms Crispix, you guys are absolutely correct.
Oh, and despite my apparent un-attractiveness today, I did get a nice compliment (and, hey, if I got it while looking like poop, it must have been genuine) at the gym. The older guy I told you said I deserved to have a case of beer bought for me the other week? Well, I saw him again today. I was doing rack pulls (at 135, muthafuckas) and I waved at him in between sets. He apparently had seen that I was having grip problems and mimed at me to use a mixed grip. Which I did, and it worked. (Thank you, Gym Guy Whose Name I Don't Know.) So afterwards, when I was doing my seated cable rows, he came over and said, "You're moving more weight than I can." He looked where in the stack I had the pin, smiled and shook his head, and said, "Scary!" Ha! Made my day. I may be poor and losing my looks, not to mention atrophying important body parts, but I'm in prime physical condition, yo.
xoxo
Oh, and despite my apparent un-attractiveness today, I did get a nice compliment (and, hey, if I got it while looking like poop, it must have been genuine) at the gym. The older guy I told you said I deserved to have a case of beer bought for me the other week? Well, I saw him again today. I was doing rack pulls (at 135, muthafuckas) and I waved at him in between sets. He apparently had seen that I was having grip problems and mimed at me to use a mixed grip. Which I did, and it worked. (Thank you, Gym Guy Whose Name I Don't Know.) So afterwards, when I was doing my seated cable rows, he came over and said, "You're moving more weight than I can." He looked where in the stack I had the pin, smiled and shook his head, and said, "Scary!" Ha! Made my day. I may be poor and losing my looks, not to mention atrophying important body parts, but I'm in prime physical condition, yo.
xoxo
live mics, expensive hot water n' decorating decisions, + more
Plus more!
I was gonna write this post last night but I was feeling a little bit too down.
I have a nice brand new hot water heater, which I will appreciate shortly when I attempt to bathe my (not really) stinky body, but the whole shenanigans cost a lot more than I was expecting. I had two very nice minions of Mr Waldman in my basement all afternoon, so obviously the labor was money. (Steer your children into a career in plumbing, boys and girls, and they can support you in your old age when your federal government stops sending you social security and the bank eats your 401k!) I'm also getting a new garbage disposal and very much needed kitchen faucet, but the very nice minions basically showed me the figures for what it costs if they supply the faucet rather than buying it myself (whoa!), so they're coming back when I have the parts. And then one of the very nice minions told me I should pick up my own garbage disposal too if they're gonna do that, 'cause that'll save me a big markup too. And helpfully told me exactly which one to get and what color box it comes in. Ell oh ell. They were very nice. Anyway, I found it on amazon for $77, which is 59% off list price, so I'ma order it tomorrow.
Oh, P.S., my very nice plumbers confirmed that 14+ years was a damn good lifespan for my water heater, because they usually last ten years or less. I think the hard water croaks them.
Meanwhile, I also spent hours yesterday, while they were here and after, looking at faucets online. I need one that fits a "four hole sink". [Insert that "sex orgies" joke I missed the other day here.] I think I have made a decision.
Nice, huh? $95 on amazon, which is also more than half off. I had to confer with my son on which finish would best go with our stainless steel sink, and he thought the less shiny, darker one, and I think I concur. If you think otherwise, vote now before I order my plumbing supplies tomorrow. I am gonna stop by Home Depot today too, just to make sure none of this stuff isn't cheaper there and/or that there isn't a faucet on their shelves that kicks this one's ass, but I'm pretty sure my bargain amazon prices with no tax will be better.
Now, onto international politics. I am lulzing over Obama and Carla's husband trash talking the Israeli dude and getting caught. Though, Mr Obama was pretty circumspect, you must admit. I woulda been, "Oh, yeah, isn't he a douche??!!!??" which is why I am not involved in international politics, boys and girls. Anyway, I think it's hilarious that there's all this handwringing over this. Are we supposed to believe/pretend that just because another country is our ally, their leader and our leader will automatically be BFFs? We all live in the real world, right? We all have to work occasionally with people we heartily dislike yet must make nice to, and we all in that situation will roll our eyes and vent about them when given the chance.
In domestic politics, I am pretty sure Herbert Cain is a douche. A sleazebag douche. Also, thank god that "personhood" law was defeated in Mississippi. BRB, banning oral contraceptives because some people don't understand human physiology!
Alright, I think I have given you all the news and opinions I had to share. Happy Wednesday!
xoxo
I was gonna write this post last night but I was feeling a little bit too down.
I have a nice brand new hot water heater, which I will appreciate shortly when I attempt to bathe my (not really) stinky body, but the whole shenanigans cost a lot more than I was expecting. I had two very nice minions of Mr Waldman in my basement all afternoon, so obviously the labor was money. (Steer your children into a career in plumbing, boys and girls, and they can support you in your old age when your federal government stops sending you social security and the bank eats your 401k!) I'm also getting a new garbage disposal and very much needed kitchen faucet, but the very nice minions basically showed me the figures for what it costs if they supply the faucet rather than buying it myself (whoa!), so they're coming back when I have the parts. And then one of the very nice minions told me I should pick up my own garbage disposal too if they're gonna do that, 'cause that'll save me a big markup too. And helpfully told me exactly which one to get and what color box it comes in. Ell oh ell. They were very nice. Anyway, I found it on amazon for $77, which is 59% off list price, so I'ma order it tomorrow.
Oh, P.S., my very nice plumbers confirmed that 14+ years was a damn good lifespan for my water heater, because they usually last ten years or less. I think the hard water croaks them.
Meanwhile, I also spent hours yesterday, while they were here and after, looking at faucets online. I need one that fits a "four hole sink". [Insert that "sex orgies" joke I missed the other day here.] I think I have made a decision.
Nice, huh? $95 on amazon, which is also more than half off. I had to confer with my son on which finish would best go with our stainless steel sink, and he thought the less shiny, darker one, and I think I concur. If you think otherwise, vote now before I order my plumbing supplies tomorrow. I am gonna stop by Home Depot today too, just to make sure none of this stuff isn't cheaper there and/or that there isn't a faucet on their shelves that kicks this one's ass, but I'm pretty sure my bargain amazon prices with no tax will be better.
Now, onto international politics. I am lulzing over Obama and Carla's husband trash talking the Israeli dude and getting caught. Though, Mr Obama was pretty circumspect, you must admit. I woulda been, "Oh, yeah, isn't he a douche??!!!??" which is why I am not involved in international politics, boys and girls. Anyway, I think it's hilarious that there's all this handwringing over this. Are we supposed to believe/pretend that just because another country is our ally, their leader and our leader will automatically be BFFs? We all live in the real world, right? We all have to work occasionally with people we heartily dislike yet must make nice to, and we all in that situation will roll our eyes and vent about them when given the chance.
In domestic politics, I am pretty sure Herbert Cain is a douche. A sleazebag douche. Also, thank god that "personhood" law was defeated in Mississippi. BRB, banning oral contraceptives because some people don't understand human physiology!
Alright, I think I have given you all the news and opinions I had to share. Happy Wednesday!
xoxo
Monday, November 7, 2011
i just lost half a post
...in which I asked for your advice and also made a really good joke. But now you will never read it. Son of a fuckin' bitch. It's too long to recreate.
Blogger, you owe me one.
xoxo
Blogger, you owe me one.
xoxo
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
lost treasures of the andreaolithic
So, yeah, I was down in the basement cleaning again the other day. As much as I like to blame the hoarding problem on my dad (RIP), since he cannot defend himself, the truth is, a lot of the crap down there *is* mine and D's. Case in point, I excavated a few boxes of glassware that were never unpacked when we moved here. Proof? All the breakables were wrapped in newspapers from 1995. And, no, I did not stop to read what was going on back then when I was unwrapping it all, though it was tempting. That's the kind of procrastination technique we here at casa Andrea try to avoid.
While I was unwrapping and unpacking and trying to make a decision about whether I was going to keep any of this crap (answer: no) or donate it all, I had it all lined up on the basement stairs. I almost climbed over it and went upstairs to get my camera, so I could share. As much as I would like to think I am not the kind of person who ever owned a.) music boxes b.) four matching cat-themed porcelain mugs or c.) one of those light-up ceramic Xmas trees, the proof is in a donation box downstairs. In my defense, the fact that all that shit was never unpacked suggests I didn't ever even want it. One cannot help what other people give one. I mostly blame my former M-I-L (RIP). She meant well, but that woman had the worst taste of anyone I have ever met. You know what else I found? Some giant margarita glasses, still with the Princess House stickers on them. OMG. I think I was roped into having a "crystal party" at one time in the early 90s, but I had mercifully blocked it from my memory. Can you people imagine me as the sort of person who would ever have a crystal party? I swear, at one point I tried to fit in with the other mommies, but it was hopeless.
And finally, I found some more shredding for D to do for me. I guess I don't need my bank statements from 1993. He's been doing it for an hour or so every night since I gave it to him. There's only so much of that you can do at once. Shredding is really tedious. Well, this morning I came down to find a pile of polaroids on my coffee table, that he apparently found in the box. Pictures of me from that era call up a lot of emotions: oh, look, remember when I was young and pretty? along with OMFG, the *hair*. But you know what shocked me? I had bags and circles under my eyes even then. If I looked like that in candid photos when I was 30-ish, I can only imagine what I look like now.
Plus, my vagina is atrophying. In case you forgot.
Love you!
xoxo
While I was unwrapping and unpacking and trying to make a decision about whether I was going to keep any of this crap (answer: no) or donate it all, I had it all lined up on the basement stairs. I almost climbed over it and went upstairs to get my camera, so I could share. As much as I would like to think I am not the kind of person who ever owned a.) music boxes b.) four matching cat-themed porcelain mugs or c.) one of those light-up ceramic Xmas trees, the proof is in a donation box downstairs. In my defense, the fact that all that shit was never unpacked suggests I didn't ever even want it. One cannot help what other people give one. I mostly blame my former M-I-L (RIP). She meant well, but that woman had the worst taste of anyone I have ever met. You know what else I found? Some giant margarita glasses, still with the Princess House stickers on them. OMG. I think I was roped into having a "crystal party" at one time in the early 90s, but I had mercifully blocked it from my memory. Can you people imagine me as the sort of person who would ever have a crystal party? I swear, at one point I tried to fit in with the other mommies, but it was hopeless.
And finally, I found some more shredding for D to do for me. I guess I don't need my bank statements from 1993. He's been doing it for an hour or so every night since I gave it to him. There's only so much of that you can do at once. Shredding is really tedious. Well, this morning I came down to find a pile of polaroids on my coffee table, that he apparently found in the box. Pictures of me from that era call up a lot of emotions: oh, look, remember when I was young and pretty? along with OMFG, the *hair*. But you know what shocked me? I had bags and circles under my eyes even then. If I looked like that in candid photos when I was 30-ish, I can only imagine what I look like now.
Plus, my vagina is atrophying. In case you forgot.
Love you!
xoxo
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
vaginal atrophy starts...NOW, and other news!
Oh, hai, kids. Did I tell you I went to my PCP last week? I can't remember. (And this is part of the problem.) Well, I did. And in the mail today I got my lab results. It's official. My estrogen has bottomed out and my FSH is through the roof. I'm in menopause. Woofuckinhoo! Not surprised, what with the hot flashes and the incredible, scary stupidity, but as detailed before, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. Not that I have a choice.
So I popped my letter from the doctor into my purse and went off to meet M2. We were meeting in Central Square and repairing to Inman Oasis to redeem my $5 soak from RueLaLa (the one that took me a month of calls and emails to get the voucher for, because apparently it was getting blocked in my email somehow? yeah, that one) and then go to lunch. There I was, on the Red Line, getting my phone out to text M2 that I was almost there, when I looked up to see the doors closing and then hear the overhead announcement that the next stop was Harvard. Son of a bitch. I thought we were only at Kendall. So I had to text M2 instead that I missed the stop and was hopping on a train coming back at Harvard. Sigh. When the fuck am I going to get my brain back? M2 says the stupidity and spaciness does not last forever. Either that, or your memory gets so bad, you don't actually remember you don't have one anymore. Oh, the lulz. Thanks, M2!
In any case, the soak was great, and then we went to the All Star Sandwich Bar, where I had a tuna melt and M2 had deviled eggs and salad, and we split (at her insistence) an order of poutine. I did not have the heart to point out that I was pretty sure that gravy isn't, y'know, technically vegetarian. Besides, once she mentioned it I really wanted that poutine.
And eventually I popped back on the commuter rail, headed for the gym. And started dozing. I think it was the poutine carbs. Felt like Thanksgiving dinner, yo. In any case, I woke up with a start, looked out the window, and saw we were passing Bridge Street and were about to go into the tunnel leading to Salem Depot. In other words, for everyone who's reading this and isn't Uncle and knows nothing about the North Shore, I almost missed my stop for the second time in one day. Which would have been really tragic had I not come to until Rowley or something. Sigh. I'm telling all y'all, I'm becoming a danger to myself and others.
I hauled my sleepy ass off the train and to the gym, where I proceeded to burp up poutine throughout my squats and my SLDLs. You haven't lived till you've continually burped poutine for fifteen minutes in the power rack, kids. Going to the weight room in Quebec must be quite the experience.
Well, I hope you all had a lovely Wednesday that lacked bad news about your private parts, transportation snafus, and digestive distress after tasty food. Kiss kiss.
xoxo
So I popped my letter from the doctor into my purse and went off to meet M2. We were meeting in Central Square and repairing to Inman Oasis to redeem my $5 soak from RueLaLa (the one that took me a month of calls and emails to get the voucher for, because apparently it was getting blocked in my email somehow? yeah, that one) and then go to lunch. There I was, on the Red Line, getting my phone out to text M2 that I was almost there, when I looked up to see the doors closing and then hear the overhead announcement that the next stop was Harvard. Son of a bitch. I thought we were only at Kendall. So I had to text M2 instead that I missed the stop and was hopping on a train coming back at Harvard. Sigh. When the fuck am I going to get my brain back? M2 says the stupidity and spaciness does not last forever. Either that, or your memory gets so bad, you don't actually remember you don't have one anymore. Oh, the lulz. Thanks, M2!
In any case, the soak was great, and then we went to the All Star Sandwich Bar, where I had a tuna melt and M2 had deviled eggs and salad, and we split (at her insistence) an order of poutine. I did not have the heart to point out that I was pretty sure that gravy isn't, y'know, technically vegetarian. Besides, once she mentioned it I really wanted that poutine.
And eventually I popped back on the commuter rail, headed for the gym. And started dozing. I think it was the poutine carbs. Felt like Thanksgiving dinner, yo. In any case, I woke up with a start, looked out the window, and saw we were passing Bridge Street and were about to go into the tunnel leading to Salem Depot. In other words, for everyone who's reading this and isn't Uncle and knows nothing about the North Shore, I almost missed my stop for the second time in one day. Which would have been really tragic had I not come to until Rowley or something. Sigh. I'm telling all y'all, I'm becoming a danger to myself and others.
I hauled my sleepy ass off the train and to the gym, where I proceeded to burp up poutine throughout my squats and my SLDLs. You haven't lived till you've continually burped poutine for fifteen minutes in the power rack, kids. Going to the weight room in Quebec must be quite the experience.
Well, I hope you all had a lovely Wednesday that lacked bad news about your private parts, transportation snafus, and digestive distress after tasty food. Kiss kiss.
xoxo
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