True(ish) Story: 2010

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Year-end (ish)

You guys, I am not doing that meme. I am fundamentally incapable of accomplishing it without a) being lame; b) trailing off in a cloud of laziness/ambivalence; or c) stewing in bitterness over the apparent glitch in the construct of the human memory allowing us to believe we are happier and more in love every single year (NOT LIKELY).

You SEE? Already this is awkward and downright NON-FESTIVE in it's crabbiness. Well, anyway. My failures at this year-end circle-jerking business are well documented. However. I do have some benchmarks, if you must know:

*I estimate that my happiness and thinness levels remain unchanged from last year. I did experience several happy EVENTS, obviously, but I was pretty happy at this time last year, and I remain so. While my body dimensions and weight are unchanged (as far as I know), I do think I am stronger and fitter than I was this time last year. Well, stronger anyway.

*I am EVER SO SLIGHTLY richer than I was last year at this time. Unfortunately, getting married didn't improve our financial situation since Tosc's house still hasn't sold and so we are paying two sets of bills (SARCASTIC SLOW CLAP).

*Other Key Performance Indicators:

My relationship with Carlos is, if anything, WORSE than this time last year. Sigh. This is a major source of tension and unhappiness and cocktail consumption for me, but I'm not sure what can be done about it. Other than go back in time, etc. etc. I don't have high hopes for 2011 either, when he will still have a new baby in the house and we will have to deal with making a decision on kindergarten. Plus, he will still be an Angry Bird. So...yeah.
My relationship with Tosc is better than it was last year. We've had a lot of financial, work, and family stress to deal with, and a lot of change in general with our marriage and consolidating our households. I think we've dealt with it really well. I'm sort of happy to be through the part where you get used to living with someone and being a spouse (again). But, I'm extremely happy with my decision to marry him. Which sounds...romantic. Whatever. I'm not in a barfy mood today. This is strictly business, people.
I think I was a better parent to Ava this year. I like older kids so much better, and 4 is a great age. The downside is that I missed her a lot more when I wasn't with her. I also mourned the loss of regular time alone with her, and I struggled with guilt that she now has to share her room, toys, and clothes with Tosc's kids. I worried that she would be left out, or feel like a third wheel, especially in the shadow of identical twins. I'm still working on all of that stuff, and I think it's going to be a hard parenting year with all 3 of the girls starting kindergarten and playing sports. Still, I definitely feel that I'm on the Good Enough spectrum.

So, a mixed bag then! Sounds about right. Overall, still happy, still thin, still (relatively) rich. As we say in MN, a guy can't complain. You?

Thursday, December 23, 2010

For the rest of us

Welp, here I am AT WORK. Seriously weak, workplace. SRSLY WEAK. To celebrate, in the spirit of Festivus, let's Air Some Grievances, shall we?

Grievance the First: People keep buying the girls all kinds of shit. We have no ROOM for more shit. Trust me when I say that we are on a 1-in-1-out basis for shit. Throughout the holiday season, when asked about gifts, I have suggested such things as art supplies, coloring books, bubble bath--you know, CONSUMABLES. Things that, by their very nature, will GO AWAY at some point in time. And what have our parents done with this suggestion? Kicked us square in the nuts via Easy Bake Ovens and 10-lb animatronic dogs. That's a true story, btw.

Grievance the Second: This grievance is with MYSELF and therefore lame, but you will SIT HERE WHILST IT IS AIRED. In a fit of early-onset dementia, I bought the girls POGO STICKS for Christmas. My thinking went like this: Hey! Outdoor-slash-active toy! No shit in the house (see above)! My thinking NOW is more like this: *imagines Series of Unfortunate Events followed by complete toy abandonment with Extreme Prejudice*. Argg. If you've been sitting on any heartwarming 4-year-old-on pogo-stick anecdotes, now would be the time to share them.

Grievance the Third: I keep TRYING, and FAILING, to eat large quantities of tortilla chips without horrific digestive distress. I'm like a goddamned rat pressing the shock bar for my pellets! When will I move towards the acceptance phase? Exactly which element of my original hypothesis requires further examination? Bah.

Grievance the Fourth: I'll be working all NEXT week too. A mere WAMP, WAMP does not begin to do this situation justice. We are talking about real human suffering here. SWING LOWWWW, SWEET CHARIOOOOT, COMIN FOR TO CARRY MEE HOOOOME!!!

Join -R- and me in airing your grievances!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

They had to omit the K to make it even more porny

Is anyone besides me still working this week? I'm not a big fan of this "Christmas-on-Saturday" bullshit, which turns my holiday "vacation" into a rejuvenating...three-day weekend. SARCASTIC SLOW CLAP.

We don't have the girls for Christmas, and we're not doing SHIT. HALLELUJAH. As the first order of business, we have big plans to pull the LoveSac in front of the TV and watch the entire first season of Spartacus.

Have you guys seen these LoveSac dealios? Ours came from Tosc's house (OBV). It's a little Jersey Shore, I'll give you that, but I moved quickly to the acceptance phase once I realized how comfy the damned thing is. It may be literally and figuratively filled with white trash, but that trash is in the form of MEMORY FOAM. Aces. Unfortunately, it's in my fucking LIVING ROOM, which puts a significant damper on the ambiance of any future Tour of Homes. Ah well. We're built for comfort around here. Story of my life.

Bee tee dubs, thanks for commenting on your Love Languages! There's still time, if you haven't. My top two are Physical Touch and Quality Time, which is why I'd rather lie on the LoveSac (erm) and watch Spartacus than receive an expensive gift or get smoke blown up my ass about what an awesome wife I am. Which is glaringly obvious to begin with, because HI THERE. LOVESAC IN THE FUCKING LIVING ROOM.

Monday, December 20, 2010

My primary is physical touch, thx for asking

Is anyone out there working on my unauthorized biography? Would you like to know what is DEAD LAST on my list of Love Languages? GIFTS. I could not care less about gifts. I don't want to buy gifts, I don't want to receive gifts, I don't want to make out a "wish list" or any of that happy horseshit. In fact, I would really rather you DIDN'T buy me a gift, because then I have to buy YOU a gift! Argg! It's an endless cycle of gifty HORROR!

Tosc is unwilling to accept the fact that I don't like gifts. As in, I don't like them in REALITY, not in some demure, marytr-ish, "oh, no pie for me I'm watching my figure" sort of way. I don't need anything, and furthermore we're MARRIED so what is the POINT. I mean, we're out of toilet paper and vodka, so if you absolutely must make a transfer of goods in my name, may I suggest you begin there? Put For: Tessie on the memo line if that makes you happy.

Am I the only woman on the planet who feels this way? I don't mean to seem ungrateful; in fact, I'm OVERLY grateful, which causes me to feel inadequate and obligated, which contributes to the uncomfortable nature of the entire gift exchange protocol. GAH.

PS-if you're my friend/family there's still time to not get me a gift. SRSLY.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Big Sister

So, Carlos and Carlosita had their baby last week, and I've got to tell you that it has been an unexpectedly pleasant experience all around. Well, for ME, obv, not for THEM, that's the beauty of Other People's Kids.

Ava is completely OVER THE MOON about being a big sister, although I'm sure that will at least partially wear off in short order. For now, it's fun to watch. It's actually sort of cool to be able to see your child interact with a sibling without, you know, having to HAVE THE BABY YOURSELF.

It's been positive in other unexpected ways too: Carlos is happy and therefore pleasant and accommodating, it's fun to shop with Ava for the new baby, and Carlosita is now a (birth) mother herself, which I anticipate to be a future benefit to our group dynamic.

I've been asked whether I feel a twinge of sadness or jealousy over the new baby, even subconsciously, as a final nail in the coffin of my marriage with Carlos. I have to say, so far, absolutely not. If anything, I'm secretly glad that Carlos and Carlosita have strengthened their bond, because I would hate to see them split up. The thought of them having a happy family life does nothing but please me, for Ava's sake and for mine. Plus, you know, I sort of consider MY OWN MARRIAGE to be somewhat problematic to the concept of getting back together.

I've also been finding that I have a lot of sympathy for Carlosita's current situation. I imagine it must be hard to be a first-time mom with a young step(ish) child hanging around. As with so many things about being a stepparent, it has all of the stresses and responsibilities and sacrifices of having kids, without all of the benefits. Plus, she and Carlos aren't married, plus her family lives on the east coast, plus she's now stuck in TX presumably for the next 15+ years, plus, plus, plus. I just feel bad for her.

In any event, NEW BABY! Yay! Her questionable life decisions are my adorable photo ops!

He is a cute little thing, I must say. And if I'm being completely honest, the mental picture of Carlos waking up several times per night while I enjoy a nice glass of wine and 8 hours of sleep is not wholly unpleasant. Heh.

If I hadn't smudged his wee little melon, you would see that he looks like Fussypants Junior! In fact, perfect pseudonym! FJ!

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

This only wasted like 30 minutes

Welp, it's my last workday before Thanksgiving, so obviously the longest day of my LIFE. 9 am? Haven't I been here for HOURS? You've got to be shitting me. Do you ever feel like a caged animal at work? Just me? Okay then.

Let's see, what do I have for you fine people? How about a Thanksgiving Hotdish of Stuff and Things?

*I'm cooking Thanksgiving dinner at my house again this year. I still haven't bought any groceries. So...awesome. Actually, it's probably for the best, since I bought some boursin cheese over the weekend (you know, for the GUESTS), and then Tosc and I went out for Monday Funday, had a few cocktails, and ended up eating the whole wedge with a bag of Cheetos. True story. I'm afraid I really cannot recommend Cheetos as a Cheese Vehicle. Unless it's the powdered variety. Well, we have to be resourceful the grocery-less week of Thanksgiving, now don't we?

*I moved into a new office (my SIXTH office in the 9 years I've been here). It's tiny (wamp), directly across from the breakroom (wamp, wamp), and loud as hell (wamp, wamp, SHUTUP SHUTUP SHUTUP). However. It used to be a physician exam room, and therefore I HAVE MY OWN POTTY. (!!) Living the dream. Just living the dream.

*It seems I never wrote a post about Alaska, did I?

Well, here's a pic. We did about 10 hours of hiking in 2 days in Juneau and Skagway. Tosc pretended to be all for it, but I sensed a little bitterness. Heh.

Speaking of feeling like a caged animal at work, the people who work as hiking guides in Alaska are totally my speed. In fact, all of Alaska suited me quite well. I wish I would have thought of spending college summers as a hiking guide. What an awesome job. Actually, I would STILL like to have that job. It's a low-maintenance, fitnessy drinker's paradise!

Instead I'm...a CPA in TEXAS. Pfft. Well, at least I've got that potty thing going for me.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

BOVSAI

A short list of Beefs of Varying Size and Intensity:

*This morning, one of Tosc's girls (let's call the twins Dana and Kelly) came into our bedroom after getting dressed, turned around, and said, "are these jeans FAT?" Um. OMG. No no no no no. She is FOUR, you guys. In clear violation of The Policy, I sort of had a minor freakout, going on about how she is a beautiful little girl, and that is not a respectful or kind thing to say about yourself, and BLAH BLAH BLAH THIS IS HORRIBLE. How? WHY? I just...GAH. I'm feeling a little defeated over the whole thing. So now FOUR YEAR OLDs wonder if they're FAT? Jesus CHRIST. Insert that fucking "Goodbye, Cruel World" cat-in-toilet poster here! Btw, Tosc wondered if she heard it from iCarly, or Wizards of Waverly Place, or one of those shows that we (yeah, yeah, yeah) let the girls watch at night before bed. I called bullshit, since Disney would be run out of the kingdom by a torch-wielding MOB for making overt "fat" references on a show favored by little girls. Whereas, it's perfectly FINE for women in REAL LIFE. (I think she heard it from her mother).

*I'm not going to MN for the holidays this year. Wamp, wamp. Slash yay? I don't know. I go round and round and ROUND with this shit, because everytime I go visit my family all I want to do is COME BACK HOME SERENITY NOW, and everytime I don't, I get all mopey. There is no pleasing me. The other wrinkle is the fact that I'm married now, and therefore have to deal with someone ELSE'S family. Buzzkill. Tosc's parents live less than an hour away, and they're very involved in his life (I prefer the phrase Up His Ass, but for some reason he balks). This is...new to me. My family is very hands-OFF and low-maintenance, and Carlos's is the same way. Plus, Carlos's family ALSO lives several thousand miles away, and so during our marriage if we didn't travel for the holidays, we had the time to ourselves. Since I'm In A Mood, I'll go ahead and rudely admit that it's one thing I miss about being married to him. Wait, is it ugly and unfair also a little trashy to Compare Husbands? Ah well. There it is. I'm sure there are plenty of things Tosc misses about his ex-wife. Although I doubt the "are these jeans fat?" thing is one of them.

*It's pretty much official that I can no longer eat tortilla chips in any acceptable quantity without becoming somewhat sick. Man, I sure am glad I decided to mostly give up grains, so that I could be rewarded for my efforts with this bullshit! WHY GOD WHY?

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Welcome to UnrecognizableLunchPhotos.com

Hey hey! It's another lunch photo!

Today I went with the barbacoa salad from Chipotle. No beans, rice, cheese, or sour cream, extra guac. It's a damned respectable concoction, if I do say so myself (digression: is it me or is the barbacoa not the CLEAR WINNER when it comes to Chipotle meat choices?).

I really hope I never morph into one of those assholes who can't stand their various foods TOUCHING each other. That would suck, not to mention render me virtually lunchless.

Also, it occurs to me that I use the term "salad" quite loosely. Well, I do START with lettuce. Then it just kind of...gets away from me, and before you know it, BOOM. $10 salad weighing in at over 1lb. It's a gift. Ish.

It's kinda like when you make burritos at home, and you're piling stuff on there, and piling stuff on there, until at some point you realize there is no way in HELL the contents of your burrito will ever be contained by using the generally accepted rolling method, and so basically you decide you're fucked, and you give up and get out the spork? Just me? OKAY THEN.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Lame

So, the no-grains, no-dairy thing is going fine. I guess. To be honest, I really don't miss grains, except for corn. True story. I would seriously kill for some tortilla chips right now.

The dairy is another story. I suspect I tolerate it pretty well, actually, but holy hell I had no IDEA how much I was really eating until I tried to stop. Salad dressing! Cheese! Cream! Sour cream! Cream cheese! Pretty much the entire cream-based family! It's like, everytime I think of something I would normally eat, THERE'S THE FUCKING DAIRY. Total buzzkill.

Anyway, this post is exactly the kind of food-related navel-gazing bullshit I can't stand, so I might as well share a lunch photo while I'm at it.

This looks like the bottom of a trash bin, I KNOW, but it actually wasn't half bad. It's my normal salad bar salad, minus the cheese (FML) plus this chicken cacciatore mess they had on the hot bar. I don't know what possessed me to plop that shit on there, especially since it was heavy as hell and therefore pushed my pay-by-weight salad well over two figures. A $10 salad with no cheese. Wow, there's a value.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Items

HEY-O!

Welp, I don't really know what's been up my ass lately, but I have been the polar OPPOSITE of entertaining in any capacity. In A Mood, basically. Hmm, what a unique and fresh perspective for the month of September! You guys KNOW how I feel about Texas in September, right? Probably the same way kids who have year-round school feel when summer rolls around, i.e. bitter, miserable, jealous, and most importantly, SORRY FOR MYSELF.

So! Tess, you ask! What's your status?

Item 1: Well, we went to Alaska. Guess where the pictures are? NOT HERE, that's where! I'll save a post on this until I have some pics. Spoiler: it was cool. Literally and figuratively. Wow, I am a master of the written word today.

Item 2: Ava has started soccer, and Carlos is the coach! Bonus Carlos QT! It's nice in a way, because the games are every Saturday, and so I get to see her even on "his" weekends, but on the other hand we are clearly the only divorced parents in the group, which is still kind of awk to me. And then there's the games themselves, which are exercises in cat herding, at best. The girls all run toward the same goal, cry when the ball gets taken away by the other team, etc. Jesus H. So, yeah. Soccer mom. That's me. The other moms are all, "let's sign up for snack mom rotation!!" and I'm all, "fuck, I forgot to charge my Kindle before the game!!" Pretty standard, really.

Item 3: Kindergarten. Still have no idea what to do about that particular cluster(kinder?)fuck. We're going to visit the local public school tomorrow, and we're also still considering the private kindergarten at Ava's daycare and a private Catholic elementary school. All of these options are horrifying in their own special way, and it's making me want to die. That's the gist. I also have a wicked case of middle-class guilt SLASH possible accidental racism going on. So I'm enjoying that. Obviously.

Item 4: Impending healthkick! To say that my general well-being has gone a LITTLE off the rails in the last few months would be like saying that I'm a LITTLE obsessed with TLC's Sister Wives. Embarrassingly inadequate understatement. So, for the month of October (which starts on a FRIDAY, what in the baby blue fuck that is WHOLLY UNACCEPTABLE), I am committing to the following things:

Seriously, no lie, WAY less alcohol (what do you MEAN this is not a "SMART" goal in that it is in no way either specific OR measurable?)
No sugar or grains (both make me wicked sick these days)
No dairy (WORST IDEA EVER)

I predict the dairy will be the hardest. Are you aware that I haven't had a pop OR a beer in over a year now? Of course, I replaced them both and then some with coffee and wine. It's really quite unfair that I am not yet The Picshah of Health. WAMP WAMP.

Item 5: Speaking of wine, Tosc and I (and by that I mean *I*) got a gift card to Wine.com for a wedding gift, and if I may go full circle on the Fuck You Texas thing, I JUST YESTERDAY got my shipment of wine, which I ordered in JULY. Why, you ask? Oh, due to "weather conditions in my area" they are unable to ship wine to TX between the months of MAY and OCTOBER. Sarcastic slow clap. SARCASTIC SLOW CLAP. As a bonus kick in the nuts, I had to have the wine delivered to my (very conservative) WORKPLACE, since it has to be signed for by someone over the age of 21. And of course, the entire box screams WINE.COM! on each and every available surface. So, thanks for that, wine.com. It's been a while since I ordered any porn, but I sure hope THAT still comes in a nice, discreet brown package. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH EITHER WINE OR PORN, but you know. Just sayin.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Multicultural and possibly offensive tidbits

*Although I still prefer black coffee, I found some coconut cream at the Asian market near my house, and so this morning I stirred a nice-sized glob into my usual cup. I love the taste, but I am fucking VIBRATING over here, you guys! Gah! Fun fact: drinking your coffee/tea with fat (cream, etc.) makes the caffeine absorb more efficiently. True story. I know, that TOTALLY sounds like an urban legend, but I am here to tell you: FACT.

*While Tosc will not go near the Asian market (*eyeroll*), he DOES approve of the Mexican market, for unknown and probably socially unacceptable reasons. Anyway, we were there yesterday shopping for produce and diabetes slash bakery items, when we saw a tank of LIVE CATFISH! Why god WHY? I am all for fresh fish, but a) catfish taste like they've been at the bottom of a dumpster for a good week on the best of days, and b) how do you package and bring home a LIVE FUCKING CATFISH? Do they just toss it over the counter, Pike Place Market style, and bid you good day? That fucker is not going to last long in a trunk in Texas in August, I'll tell you that much, in which case WHY NOT JUST BUY IT DEAD IN THE FIRST PLACE? Is there something about witnessing the death rattle that makes it somehow tastier? Are they selling them as pets? Mystery.

*Before we left MN, we went to the local meat locker and stocked up on over $100 worth of meat, including but not limited to blueberry-wild -rice summer sausage and burger patties made of BRATS. Omg. Texas may offer the Cuisines of the World, but it really needs to start bringing its A game in the overlooked culinary genre of Processed Meats.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

What's that, yesterday wasn't depressing enough?

Thanks to everyone who commented or emailed yesterday. Each and every response really did make me feel better, although I wasn't lying when I said I hated that post. I strongly dislike the way I write about serious topics, for the most part.

One reason is because I always think I'm making myself out to be some kind of saint, or martyr, or whatever, which clearly I am NOT. I don't think Carlos is a bad parent, and he certainly doesn't treat Ava the way he treats me. I would be very shocked if he ever DID, although I think exposure to his temper and mood swings is probably unavoidable.

He is just a very angry person for various reasons, many of which are legitimate, and as his ex-wife I am a convenient target for his rage and control issues. I do feel that I can handle it, and I sincerely hope that he is sparing Carlosita as a result. Ava is very attached to her, and I think she is likely a very good person, and the best thing for everyone is for him to avoid somehow running her off.

I do think he is angry/upset about my marriage to Tosc, and POSSIBLY about my reaction to his new baby. I am almost positive he is happy about the baby, especially since it's a boy. It's hard to explain to people how important having kids is to Carlos, or anyone with serious attachment/abandonment issues. I'm no Dr. Phil over here, but I was not at all surprised that he was going to have another child. I think being a parent is absolutely the most important thing in his life. I don't think he feels "trapped" in any way, as he reportedly has no plans to marry Carlosita, although I hope she is able to eventually talk him into it (especially since she is an elementary school teacher in Texas, where unfortunately being pregnant and unmarried could result in embarrassment for her).

I do think he STRONGLY dislikes the fact that he's tied to me for life (and now her as well). He is a cut-and-run type, and I'm sure it drives him AROUND THE BEND that he can't just cut me out of his life and never speak to me again. Heh. NOW who forgot to TITFTLOG, eh?

Seriously, though, PSA: if you're thinking about having a baby, you might ALSO want to think about whether you wish to be tied to not only the BABY, but also the CO-PARENT, FOR LIFE. Just sayin. You DO come to this blog for Life Advice, don't you? Oh.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Attached to the Outcome

Uch. So, the co-parenting thing is not going well, at the moment. Like, AT ALL.

Carlos and Carlosita are going to have a baby.

I am HAPPY about this, because Yay New Baby and because Ava is going to have a brother and because in theory Carlos should be happier and more distracted and that typically bodes well for me. Also, if I'm being totally honest, I kind of enjoy the idea of being the only parent (of the four) to be 100% dedicated to Ava.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason, my already tenuous relationship with Carlos has basically gone OFF THE RAILS since he told me. I THOUGHT things were going well, and I showed genuine excitement over the new baby, and he came over and picked up some of Ava's old baby stuff and blah de blah. And then last weekend he refused to let me see her (it was technically his weekend but we had agreed to switch). And just for good measure, he followed up with some nasty name-calling and other colorful commentary.

You guys, I was SO UPSET, and FURIOUS, and just...miserable. Sometimes this whole situation makes me feel like I have no control over my life, and I'm at the whim of a fucking crazy person whose life's work is torturing me, and I can NEVER GET AWAY FROM HIM, because we have a kid.

And, just in case I wasn't feeling bad enough, when we were in the middle of this texting war, Ava asked me why she wasn't staying with me, and I said "Because daddy won't let you"!

Yeah. Let that sink in. She started CRYING, you guys. That is bar NONE the worst fucking thing I have EVER done as a parent. I don't know WHY WHY WHY I didn't just say "because it's daddy's turn to see you and he misses you," like I usually do. I just...really, really hate myself for that, and I am not even fishing for back pats or whatevs. THAT IS HOW I FEEL.

Well. This is cheery. Aaaaand, exactly why I don't post when I'm In A Mood.

Point is, I know him, and regardless of how well we get along for brief periods of time, I can 100% COUNT ON things swinging back in this direction at some point. I tried ignoring him, I tried asking him if there is anything wrong or if I could help, I tried telling him I was not going to read abusive texts/emails. My goal, as always, is not to let the way he treats me affect the way I treat him.

And I'm good at that. The High Road is my fucking SPECIALTY. I've certainly had enough practice. But, damn, it TAKES A TOLL on me personally, and on my husband and daughter, and also it's not even ENOUGH to be proud of my actions. I have to learn to release my attachment to the outcome, which CLEARLY is going RULL WELL.

GAWD ALMIGHTY. I hate this fucking post. I hate him, and I hate myself and my unfortunate Life Choices. The end.

(you: Jesus H, what just HAPPENED?)

Here, cleanse your palate with a picture of Tosc and my sister's husband (a firefighter and a cop, in case you're playing along at home) riding a tandem bike, in what my sister hilariously titles, "Ace and Gary's Lake Vacation".

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Overwhelmed

Ugg, I am so overwhelmed right now, you guys! We are still trying to move stuff from Tosc's house, and get it ready to be sold, and pack all of his shit (the man is a raging T-SHIRT HOARDER) into my (our) house, and Ava's birthday party is this Saturday and we're going to MN next week and our cruise is in six weeks and FUUUUCK.

This is exactly why I am not an overscheduler. I just...shut right down. For example, we have boxes all over the house, and I haven't gone grocery shopping for Ava's party yet, and so last night (the last night before we have the kids all weekend) we buckled down and...watched like 5 consecutive episodes of Cash Cab. DAMMIT BOBBY.

Bee tee dubs, am I the only one who simply CANNOT MOTIVATE between the hours of 6 and 9 on weekdays? I keep hearing all of these moms complain about "coming home to the second shift" of laundry and cleaning and whatthefuckever and I'm all "HUH"? I don't do SHIT after work during the week, and I don't understand people who do. I mean, I'll cook dinner and clean up, but that is IT. The rest of the evening pretty much boils down to wine and Cash Cab. I'm tired, ftlog! What is wrong with you people? Sit the fuck DOWN once in a while, you're making me nervous.

Welp, now I'm just rationalizing. But, what is the blog good for, if not that? I ask you.

PS-speaking of making me nervous, my friend Aggie has a somewhat...ALARMING level of interest in the whole Twilight thing, and despite the fact that I am Team Jacob and she is Team Edward, and that she fails to support my position that Taylor Lautner is one of the hottest guys EVER TO WALK THE EARTH, I shall nevertheless encourage you to vote for her video in the Vitamin Water Eclipse contest on Facebook, if you are so inclined.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

FAQ

Q: Are we going on a honeymoon?

A: Um, DUH. What's the point in spending less than $100 on a half-assed, secret(ish) wedding if you don't go on a badass honeymoon? We're going on a cruise to Alaska at the end of August. Speaking of which, speak up if you've been! We're going roundtrip from Seattle, with stops in Juneau, Skagway, Tracy Arm, and Victoria, BC. Any ideas on what to do, other than bask in the glory of sub-100-degree temps and work on our bar tab?

Q: Do we now have 3 3-year-olds?

A: It's now 3 FOUR-year-olds, actually. They're just a few months apart in age. We get asked ALL THE TIME whether they are triplets, and we always say yes. Just easier that way. Even though Tosc's girls are CLEARLY identical, and look nothing like Ava. TITFTLOG.

They call each other "the sissies," and if that's not the cutest thing you've EVAH heard, then I would like to present you with your very own Platinum Emotional Cripple Card. We've been dating since they were all two, so they really don't remember otherwise. (Tangent: 3 hot pink car seats, GAH. Tosc's ride is quite the ManMobile.)

Q: How did the exes take the news?

A: Pretty well, all things considered. Tosc and his ex-wife have a much better relationship than Carlos and I do. They actually, you know, TALK ON THE PHONE and shit. Which is great. She was very gracious. Carlos, not so much. Pretty standard reaction from him (he said, and I quote, "Well, I'm sure you have your motives! [ed: such as...?? wtf] Poor [Tosc]! Hope he figures it out sooner rather than later!"). Ah well. He'll be fine. He doesn't do well with sudden movements out of the corner of his eye. I'm sure it's all very shady and probably a secret government conspiracy to take him down in his mind. Heh.

Q: So, how did that healthkick go, anyway?

(photo credit: duh).

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Mah-weed? MAH-WEED!

Hey, thanks for all of the congratulations. And barely a WTF, which is more than we can say for some of our REAL-life peeps. Christ. Is it really THAT big a shock? We've been dating for a year and a half, FTLOG. At this stage in life, you best kick someone to the curb long before that if you're not interested. Anyway. Let's move on to the "documentation," such as it is, shall we?

I include this photo, even though I feel uncomfortable just LOOKING at it, so that you can see my dress, and also to reiterate the unfortunate fact that I pull a lot of weird faces, especially when I'm nervous. AND I WAS, because if there's one thing I hate, it's being in an Emotional Sitch in front of other people. Omg. WORST.

Obligatory full-body shot. Again, I look wicked uncomfortable, mostly because Tosc's corsage thingee is RIGHT IN MY FUCKING FACE. That's what happens when you marry someone over a foot taller than you. Anyhoo, you can see the entire...ensemble, or whatever. You guys, I LOVE THIS DRESS. I THINK I like the shoes, but...I dunno. When I bought the dress a few weeks ago, I panicked about shoes and did what I always do, which is email Slynnro. And even SHE was like, "yeah, you're pretty much fucked". And I was all, "I KNOW, RIGHT?" Gah. As she said, white shoes can be the Slippery Slope to Tackytown. (heh)

The fam. I just want to say, in our defense, that it was hotter than fucking HADES in the church, and that we all sat through en entire church service before the wedding, and therefore you will please to excuse us if we all look a little beaten down slash...DEWY. Insert sweating-like-whore-in-church joke here.

Aww. Fun fact: I actually curled my hair, with a CURLING IRON, like 2 hours before this. Wait, what do you MEAN it doesn't look curly? Yeah. I KNOW. Fucking hair. Fucking Texas. Fucking complete lack of High Maintenance Gene.

So, here's the thing. I know good and well that some people are/were shocked that we got married, or think it was too soon, or whatever. And that's cool. I get that. But to be totally honest, I suspect that marrying Tosc might be the first really smart decision I've made in a while.

You know, years ago I saw an episode of that dumbass Wedding Story show on TLC, and before the wedding the bride told the cameras that she felt really "safe" marrying her fiancee. At the time, I thought that was the most pathetic/creepy thing I'd ever heard. SAFE! WTF! How romantic! Slash lame! I've been thinking about that a lot lately, because while I feel other, more barfy stuff as well, I feel wicked safe marrying Tosc. I mean, I feel physically safe and blah de blah, but I feel...other kinds of safe too. If you know what I mean. And that's about all I can say about that without taking the Express Train to Tackytown.

Alrighty. No more wedding shit. I just ate.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Duh

We got married, OBV. How was your 4th?

Friday, June 18, 2010

I should rename the blog "Squashtawk". Damn.

Well, the crockpot thing worked, TECHNICALLY, but the squash turned out really, REALLY soft, and was therefore less "spaghetti" and more...squash. If that makes sense. It didn't really have a stringy texture when I "shredded" it with a fork. Which didn't bother me, but if you're looking for some kind of FAKE SPAGHETTI sitch, I can't say that I recommend the crockpot. It was, however, delicious, provided you don't have any kind of irritating TEXTURE ISSUES.

This was my plate. Uh, and bowl. And personal squeeze bottle of dressing. Cauldron of wine not pictured. I know it's a shitty BatPhone pic, but you can kind of see how the base is basically...mashed squash. Which was fine by me. I'm not fussy, as long as it's covered in meat. Story of my life. Yes, I realize this is a rather...ROBUST serving size. That is how I roll, SKIMMERS. I've never been much for portion control. I totally ate it all, and it was damn good.

This was Ava's plate. Uh, no shit, right? I am not (YET) forcing Tosc to eat from a pink butterfly lunch tray, although if he keeps up with this picky shit I will strongly consider it. Anyway, Ava proclaimed that she didn't want any of the squash, so I just mixed hers up with her meat sauce and covered it in parmesan cheese. SHADY. Slash effective. She ate it. She ate this whole plate of food, actually, AND an orange sherbet push-up. Apple, tree, etc.

Tosc's plate looked just like mine, except he had bread and ranch. You guys. HE ATE IT. He even LIKED it, and suggested that we use chili and cheese/onions next time instead of meat sauce. I practically burst into tears! I'm getting a little misty now, just thinking of it! I think the key was not to position this meal as some kind of...pasta stand-in. Keep expectations low, that's my motto. That, and "cover it with meat."

/squashweek

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Thrilling squashtable update!

So, in an effort to relieve my intense bitterness over the oven-roasting time of your average spaghetti squash, I came up with a brilliant idea! Uh, if by "came up with" you mean stole from Artemisia's comment. CROCKPOT, baby.

This is one jar of pasta sauce, one lb. of ground beef, 1/2 lb. of mushrooms, and one chopped onion. Plopped the seeded squashtable on top, set it and forget it, thankyoucomeagain.

You know, I rarely use my crockpot, because in my estimation even the low setting runs WAY TOO HOT. This drives me nuts. Every time I cook something I end up with a festive ring of BURNT SHIT on the inside! If I wanted burnt edges I would use the FAST COOKER aka the OVEN! Bah. Did you know that older slow cookers cook at lower temps? True story. The food police made the manufacturers increase the cooking temp in the name of"food safety." Fucking pussies. Anyway, PSA. If you use an old crockpot recipe in a new crockpot, that shit is going to be CRISPY. This is how things like those Crockpot Condoms get invented. Well, that and laziness/earth hating.

Anyway, I'll let you know whether anyone spits it out.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Imagine if we ACTUALLY tried

If I had to give a Healthkick Status Report, I would give myself a...B. Minus. For example, I was all primed to cook spaghetti squash with meat sauce last night for dinner. Aaaand then we went out to On the Border for Ultimate Fajitas and cocktails. Wamp wamp. I just could not face the horror that is waiting an hour for a VEGETABLE. Squashtable. Whatever. Every time I turn around one of the healthkick blogs I read is proclaiming something else "not actually a vegetable." If spaghetti squash has found its way outside the Circle of Trust, I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT IT, mkay?

Anyway, do you guys eat that shit? Tosc has decided that he's willing to give up pasta. Sarcastic slow clap. We never even EAT pasta. At any rate, I'll take it. Baaaby steps away from the Michael Phelps Diet, yaknow? Let's pray we don't have another CauliflowerGate on our hands when I finally get around to making it. Although I did provide full disclosure this time, against my better judgement. Just eat it ftlog. The uncharacteristic declarative sentence/lack of caps signifies my weariness with this issue.

*****

HIGH SCHOOL SKINNY update! Last night Tosc was up until 5am! Good times!

Tosc: Uh, I guess I shouldn't take the HealthyTrim in the afternoons anymore
Me: slash AT ALL
Tosc: I tried to "cuddle" around 3:30, but you didn't budge
Me: I can't believe that didn't work

At any rate, I don't feel sorry for him. It's a hard knock life when you're HIGH SCHOOL SKINNY! Hope you've lost enough weight to fit underneath your desk for a nap!

Friday, June 11, 2010

Sucks to be my boyfriend, Version 1 of ??

So, Marie Green asked about Tosc's accent, and whether we could make fun of IT instead. Oh, don't worry people. We may have a dearth of BAH-ston accents these days, but when you're partnered with me, YOU ARE NEVER SAFE FROM RIDICULE. I think that much is clear.

You may have noticed that Tosc has the whole Oklahoma, good ole boy, boots and jeans thing going.

Exhibit A:

And B:

Precious. It works for him, amirite?

He does have a bit of an accent, but mostly it's the Tosc-ISMS that entertain. You know, he says things like "drunker than Cooter Brown", "we're gonna howl (party) to-naght", "that ole boy/gal", and "suckerbill" (interchangeable with "sucker". Usage: "look at the size of that suckerbill!").

So, all that is well and good, but my FAVORITE verbal quirk by far is his tendency toward old-fashioned, redundant phrasing. Consider how he says the following:

Telephone call
Plane flight
TV commercial
Text message

Now then. I KNOW this is just me being a TOTAL PAIN IN THE ASS, and in writing it doesn't even look that bad, but...HEE! WHO SAYS THAT? I mean, are the "telephone, plane, TV, and message" parts not IMPLIED? FTLOG! I don't know why this offends my delicate sensibilities regarding efficient speech, BUT IT DOES. What is he, 80? PLANE FLIGHT!

Actually, I sort of think he can't wait to be 80. And, there's Tosc in a nutshell.

Sorry babe. I think it's cute! Really! Except for the "ATM machine" thing. That has GOT TO GO. xo

Thursday, June 10, 2010

With Accents!

So, in the midst of all this healthkick bullhonkey, I forgot to tell you guys about a lower-case win I experienced last week!

Last Friday was Ava's end-of-year "program" at daycare, which was unfortunately prefaced by pert-near an HOUR of kindergarten graduation/photo montage what the FUCK. I'm starting to realize that the major downside of having older kids is having to sit through shit that IN NO WAY INVOLVES YOUR KID. And yet. THERE YOU ARE. On the parenting clock, trapped, and without your laptop/flask.

Anyway, Tosc left work early to come with me (KEEPER), and when we got there we immediately saw Carlos, his girlfriend (NEED A PSEUDONYM), and as a special bonus, my formah mothah-in-law, who is visiting from New Hamp-shah*. Well then. In theory, this is awk, because although Carlos both knows Tosc and knows we have been dating for over a year, this was the first time he had seen us together. Carlos and I have a pretty unique coparenting relationship in that we NEVER talk (we text or email), and we almost never see each other in person (we pick up/drop off from school).

But, the good news is that it went well! Everyone was civil and positively adult-esque! Even Carlos was all, "TOSC, GOOD TO SEE YOU!" Hehe. I think it really helped that Ava's grandma was there. Carlos always was super nice to me in front of his family (classic flicker).

Well, now I'm just being a bitch. Anyway, it went better than expected. The person I felt MOST sorry for was Carlos' girlfriend. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she looked positively MISERABLE. Poor girl. Especially when my former MIL ran up to me and gave me a big hug, called me SWEET-HAHT, started chatting about the family, etc. Had to be weirdsies. Sucks to be her.

So, anyhoozers, good to have that out of the way. Although it would have been cool to have a West-Side-Story-style rumble with switchblades and fistfighting and such. Ah well. Maybe next time.

*After we left, Tosc was all, OMG THE ACCENTS! Hehe. You guys have missed it, DON'T EVEN LIE.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

GET HIGH SCHOOL SKINNY!!!11

So, hilarious update on the healthkick. Tosc ordered up some fucking HEALTHYTRIM! Hahaha! Omg. I do love a good crash diet when it comes to entertainment value, but HONESTLY. I've never actually known anyone who took real, live, DIET PILLS! What is he, an 80s housewife? Sorority pledge? GodDAMN this tickles my funnybone, you guys. I am, like, INAPPROPRIATELY amused. The website says "GET HIGH SCHOOL SKINNY!", for the love.of.GAWD!

HAHAHAHA! Oh. My side hurts. This is the best day of my LIFE.

Incidentally, I hope it goes without saying that *I* will not be ingesting that bullshit. He is ON HIS OWN. Apparently SOMEBODY wasn't up for not drinking beer. SHOCKER. So, you know, stay tuned for that. Provided he doesn't drop dead, I'll keep you posted.

(Tosc rebuttal: how is this ANY DIFFERENT than the various vitamin potions you take in the name of Good Health? )

A) Shut up
B) I have wasted YEARS OF MY LIFE reading research on that shit, as opposed to HEARING ABOUT IT ON THE RADIO
C) None of MY vitamin bottles says "GET HIGH SCHOOL SKINNY"!!

Check, and mate.

Friday, June 4, 2010

This Healthkick shit is going to get RULL old

*I am not engaged! Crimony! I don't see the whole engagement thing happening again, to be honest. When and if I get married, I'm just going to, you know, GET MARRIED. Cut out the middle man. I did the whole yearlong, TITFTLOG waiting period last time, and look how well THAT turned out. As always, overthinking fucks me in the goat ass.

*Mashed cauliflower is magically delicious, you crabby fuckers! To make mine, I steam a whole head of cauliflower, cut up, (about 15 minutes in my steamer, make sure it's really soft so there aren't CHUNKS) and stick it in the food processor with 1/2 stick of butter, a good-sized glob of plain greek yogurt (you could use sour cream), a handful of sharp cheddar cheese, and a tablespoon or so of roasted garlic. Salt and pepper to taste. You can process it until you're blue in the face, because it doesn't get gluey like mashed potatoes. I PREFER it to mashed potatoes, actually, and it's a hell of a lot quicker. So SUCK IT, veggie haters! Meat avoiders, veggie haters, what the fuck do you people EAT? Whiskey and hardtack?

*The buffalo burgers (TATONKA!) were GOOD, but not GREAT. I think I may have overcooked them. They're just so...LEAN, a situation I am generally against when it comes to red meat. They did have a nice beefy flavor, but...I don't know. Verdict: MEH.

(Tangent: I CANNOT think of the word buffalo without mentally bellowing "TATONKA"!! Thanks a lot, elementary school Dakota class)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

You: On a healthkick

Jesus H. Christ, you guys, I'm not going on some awesome tropical vacation. I WISH. Once again, I think I've dramatically oversold The Thing. Either that, or you all are attempting to live vicariously through me, in which case you will soon regret that decision now that we're on this healthkick.

Not to harsh your contact high, but we're going up to the lakehouse, with the kids. We ARE having a party, though, OF AN UNDISCLOSED NATURE, on the 4th. (hehehe)(ftlog, the smart money is on a 4th of July party, IS IT NOT?)

At any rate, I managed to stay somewhat affixed to the wagon yesterday (there was wine, but also training), so I guess the healthkick is on. This is me excited. Here we are in Delaware.

So far my preparations have included shopping for spaghetti squash and angrily paging through the Diets That Work! edition of US Weekly. Horrors! I am terribly sorry, US Weekly, but Kelly Ripa is not a fucking size 2. Unless you meant 2T. I mean, she's perfectly lovely and cute as a button, blah blah Policycakes, I'm just SAYIN.

Also, I purchased some buffalo burgers at Costco! What are the chances that I can sneak THOSE past Tosc? I'm thinking at least 50/50, provided I take them out of the box before he gets home and also top his with cheese and a fried egg (classic ToscBurger). I'm hoping to avoid a redux of the time I tried to replace his regular mashed potatoes with mashed CAULIFLOWER. Hoo boy. He's got his eye on me after that debacle, which involved a grown man SPITTING OUT FOOD that was in no danger of causing anaphylaxis. I beg your pardon, your highness! I had no idea cruciferous vegetables were POISONOUS if not expelled immediately through the nearest orifice!

Anyway. On the bright side, we BOTH exercised yesterday! How about them apples? Actually, I worked out with my trainer while Tosc WATCHED FROM A NEARBY TREADMILL. Gawd almighty. Nothing like having your hot male trainer stretch your hammy while your boyfriend looks on. Sounds like the intro to a bad porn movie. In my defense, there were no UGLY trainers to choose from! Swearsies! They all look exactly the same: standard beefcake, dark hair, buzzcut, no facial hair. You know, Trainer Ken. Preeeetty much interchangeable.

Welp, we've covered Kelly Ripa, mashed cauliflower, and bad porn! I'd say the healthkick posts are a raging success so far!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Squirrelly

Man, I am squirrelly today. Too much coffee, plus I'm meeting my personal trainer at lunch, which always gives a mild case of the Nervous Tummy (WHY?).

Yesterday I decided I was going on a month-long healthkick, for a Thing I have on the 4th of July, so of course Tosc and I proceeded to go out for Tuesday Boozeday after work. Sarcastic slow clap. Back off! We didn't have any groceries! We had his kids at the lakehouse all weekend and we needed some QT! Insert middle-class sob story here!

Gawd, we are some spoiled emeffers, aren't we? Well, I don't want to hear it. Get your own divorce, and all this, AND MORE, can be yours! For the low, low price of...well. Let's not get fussy on the cost/benefit analysis, shall we?

At any rate, Tosc and I have come to realize that Monday Funday/Tuesday Boozeday does not really count unless it takes place outside the house. This is because when you are at a restaurant/bar you HAVE TO TALK. Which, you know, can be annoying, but in theory is a Good Thing. Usually. Unless he wants to talk about OSU football or one of the 8372 cars he's owned or some shit. Fuck that. Tell it to the bartender, buddy.

So, a reboot on the healthkick, then!

Pro: IN THEORY, Tosc is on this healthkick also, although his "strategy" is "stop drinking beer and drop a swift 20 lbs." First, of all: *snorting laughter* and second of all: HAHAHAHAHA!

Con: Wednesday the 2nd is just such an unacceptable date to begin a healthkick. I mean, really.

Pro: The Thing DOES involve a bathing suit, and a strapless dress.

Con: Everyone will be drinking anyway, so I will probably seem more "fit" than usual by sheer virtue of the Beer Goggles.

Pro: FTLOG, it won't kill me to eat less shit for one goddamned month!

Con: It's going to be hotter than Toby's Ass all month long, and as Swistle says, I only like to be one kind of miserable at a time.

Pro: I'll be extra cranky, so more hateful blog posts.

Con: I could just get wicked tan, get my teeth whitened and call it good.

Well then. I am overthinking this. In fact, this entire post is The Squirrel talking.

A "patriotic squirrel", if you ask Google Images. Which I'm not necessarily recommending.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Roundup

After the holiday weekend, Ava is going to be transitioning to the Pre-K class at daycare. In case you haven't been keeping up with the math, this is her last year of daycare before Kindergarten, to which I heartily say: FUCKING GAH!

If you're looking for a "where-has-the-time-gone-my-BAYBEEE!11" here, you can LOOK ELSEWHERE. I'm basically PRO on the growing up thing. I like my kid better and better the older she gets, and enjoy her more. Also, if we're being honest, I don't feel like the time has gone particularly quickly. COLLEGE, that went quickly. Vacations. Episodes of The Deadliest Catch. That kind of thing. Pregnancy, childbirth, tantrums, not sleeping through the night for years on end, NOT SO MUCH. Call me crazy.

Anyhoo, in an uncharacteristic turn of events, I'm sort of pre-hand-wringing over kindergarten. I don't like the public school that's in my neighborhood. Ava's daycare has PRIVATE kindergarten, and that might be a good option, but...IS IT? It WOULD buy us another year to think on the whole elementary school thing, and lord knows I love the lazy way out slash status quo, but if there's anything I DO worry about as a parent, it's education. Especially in Texas, and PIPE THE FUCK DOWN Texans, you know it's true.

I'm new to this whole sitch, because where I come from, they scrape together every young critter within a 50-mile radius just to have enough(ish) students for the ONE available public school. Aaand, you attend it for the next 13 years, done and DONE. But my kid is growing up near a major U.S. city, and there's CHOICES and shit. Me no likey.

I dunno. We are willing to pay up to the amount we currently pay for daycare for private school. But SHOULD we? It's not like our local elementary is DANGEROUS MINDS-bad, or anything. But it's not GOOD. And I don't want to move right now. And we CAN afford private school, within reason. But private school kinda gives me a raging case of the Judgemental Eyerolls, and what if it's NOT better? How the hell do you pick a private school anyway? How do I hint that I KNOW Carlos's girlfriend/fiancee is a teacher without looking like a total psycho? How do I set in motion a chain of events which culminates in Ava choosing a college on the east coast and me getting the fuck OUTTA HERE?

Yrgg. Welp, this is about as worked up as I get on parenting issues, so thanks for tuning in for that. Also, this whole thing is one big Middle Class Sob Story. I am off to punch myself in the face now. Good day.

Chill the FUCK OUT and have a muffin

(culinary magnet school?)

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Two Weeks

So, I never did get properly sick. Vitamin D FTW! And/or placebo effect. Whatevs. At any rate, I'm fixing to slow my roll on the Vitamin D to compensate for my other inadvisable habit of unchecked sunbathing. Don't want to go toxic. Well, not on Vitamin D, anyway.

Speaking of my health or lack thereof, the training is going like gangbusters! Most importantly, I found out that my trainer is a Tommy Boy fan when he asked me to push THIS across the gym floor and back:

Me: Looking forward to it
Trainer: I'm picking up your sarcasm
Me: That's good because I'm laying it on PRET-TY THICK

Aces. He's a keeper.

What else?

*We went to MN for Mothers Day/my sister's wedding dance!

Q: who are the extras? A: we've been friends with these people for, NO SHIT, like 25 years. There's a similar picture of us when my sister was probably Ava's age. Sunrise, sunset, etc. etc. Yeah, I'm drinking wine out of a plastic dixie cup, what of it? Anyway. This is all a tiresome review for those of you who are my friends on Facebook.

*Speaking of my inadvisable social media omnipresence, I added my Twitter feed to the sidebar. So, you know...enjoy that.

*I went to a sex lecture at work! Oh, fine, INTIMACY. Surprisingly, it was only SLIGHTLY awk, as I was the youngest person in the room by like 25 years. TFS. This one poor woman kept having to loudly repeat everything the lecturer said to her husband, who was like, 80, MINIMUM.

"SHE SAID THE LITTLE BO PEEP FANTASY IS TOTALLY NORMAL"! And so on. Awesome.

I even felt a little smug when the presenter suggested getting a book of questions, because Tosc and I do that! (They're not SEX questions, you pervs!)(As far as YOU know!) I have this one on my Kindle, and we sometimes bust it out during Monday Funday or whatever, if there's a lull in the conversation and no one at the bar to make fun of. Look at us, all INTIMATE and shit! (*emotional cripple shiver*)

*And since I mentioned Monday Funday, we were recently spending one at our favorite bar when we learned that one of the bartenders we like had quit, and that no one knew where he had gone. Wamp wamp. So, being the resourceful drinkers we are, we immediately put our heads together in the think/drunk tank and came up with what will surely be the best idea EVAR, should someone much more highly motivated pursue it. Are you ready? (you: SIGH). It's a website that allows you to find your favorite bartenders! You know, search by name or city or where they've worked in the past and find out where they are working now! GENIUS, AMIRIGHT? The bartenders are incentivized to sign up so that their customers can find them, and the bar owner are incentivized to advertise! BARKEEP.COM. I can basically die now, having had that idea. The End.

Friday, May 14, 2010

I (tentatively) still never get sick

So, the jury's still out on whether or not I am now, or will be at some future date, "sick." I don't feel any WORSE, but I'm not completely...WELL either. Weird. At any rate, I topped myself off with another 10,000 IU of Vitamin D, just in case. I wish I were exaggerating when I tell you that I just ordered an entire CASE of Vitamin D encapsulated in Wild Alaskan Salmon Oil. The gelcaps are PINK, you guys! Aww. So purty. I am a supplement sucker of the highest order, I think that much is clear.

Anyway, all of this bullshit with my alleged cold reminds me that I really do feel good (physically anyway) most of the time. As a result, I seem to go straight to huffy, indignant rage when I don't. So, that's an(other) attractive and pleasant quality. You know, I cannot imagine what it's like to be oh, say, TOSC or one of those other miserable fuckers who has allergies and GERD and restless leg syndrome and gispilicus in the gillectigazoink and WHATTHEFUCKEVER wrong with him AROUND THE CLOCK. I mean, honestly. The guy is a 6-foot, 225lb slab of meat with the constitution of Tiny fucking Tim. And I thought Carlos was bad with his impeccable health inexplicably accompanied by rampant hypochondria.

Welp, back to me. Clearly, I'm healthy as a goddamned horse, but then again there's always my rickety mental health if you really must check a box somewhere. Speaking of which, have you seen this Stanford lecture on depression? It's worth watching, if you have the time. Funny how I'll eye-roll and P-SHAW your illnesses all day long, unless they are MENTAL illnesses, in which case I will devote hours of brow-furrowing concentration to their careful study.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Hardware Update

*I started working out with a trainer. Three weeks of one 30-minute session per week, and yet I remain distinctly UN-ripped. Disappointing. At any rate, I'm enjoying it. Ish. It was becoming increasingly clear that I would never be motivated to lift heavy weights with any regularity on my own. I just cannot seem to unleash my inner Beefcake. Guess I'll let Kris the Hot Trainer take the reins for a while and see what treasures unfold. So, look foward to that. Fun fact: I went to college and grad school with Kris's sister. Uh. Whenever I meet one of my contemporaries from CBU I always get juuuust the mildest case of Nervous Tummy on the off chance they've seen me barf outside a bar, or I slept with their husband in 1997 or something. AWKWARD. I hate when that happens.

*I seem to be developing a teeny, TINY case of the sniffles, which, IF it materializes AND I'M NOT SAYING IT WILL, is no shit the first "cold" I've had in YEARS. BAH. This is ruining my smug "I never get sick" schtick! I'm going to have to reset my Cold-Free For 123482346 Days sign! GODDAMNIT! I was so pissed off this morning I took 20,000 IU of Vitamin D in an effort to send the motherfucker to an early grave. I have a Thing with Vitamin D lately. If I accidentally severed a limb (or intentionally severed a limb for that matter), I'd probably rub some Vitamin D on it and go about my business. It's like Windex. Or Tussin.

*Seriously, WHAT can I blame this weak excuse for a "cold" on? Kris the Hot Trainer? Karma resulting from the various antics of 1997? EL NINO? I NEVER GET SICK FUCK THIS SHIT.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Tosc takes pictures of the weirdest shit, Version 2 of ??

We've had sort of a mild obsession with grilled jalapeno poppers lately, which is no excuse for taking a PICTURE of the damn things, but there it is. Not exactly sure what's come over us, especially since they're a little fussy to make. (PSA: you should NOT finish your glass of wine after you accidentally fling the seeds of an entire jalapeno into it)

Also, you would think that a fucking accountant would TITFTLOG and ensure that the number of bacon slices is equivalent to the number of jalapeno halves, but alas, you would once again be mistaken. Although I guess having extra peppers is preferable to having BACON left over. That would be some BULLSHIT.

Just FYI, if you are ever out to lunch with Tosc and he sees smoke? Best of luck getting back to work in under 2 hours. He hunted this apartment fire down like a COONDOG today. Obviously, I stayed in the car while he sidled on up liked he owned the place, because that Mrs. Kravitz shit embarrasses me. Fat lot of good it did, since I still got the full commentary, WITH PICTURES, after he'd had his fill. Apparently these guys are "staging," whatever that means. All I know is, that deck was made entirely of 50-year-old wood, so I sincerely hope they had a plan B.

Looky my new shoes! I KNOW. GOD FORBID they come out with a fitness accessory and I don't rush immediately out to buy it. I've been wearing these to work out and even to run a little (I'm not completely adapted to running in them yet). They're wicked comfy, but I'm growing a little weary of CHIT-CHATTING about them with the looky-loos. Yes, they're like water shoes. Yes, they're comfortable. Yes, you can run in them. No, they're not expensive. Yes, I realize they're ugly as fucking sin. ANYTHING ELSE? Goddamn. Reminds me of being out in public with my Kindle. This is exactly why I try not to be an Early Adopter. Too much interaction with the unwashed masses.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Thank You, Drive Through

So, yesterday I took Ava to Backyard Burger for lunch, where I was once again reminded that she actually PAYS ATTENTION to what I do. Outstanding.

Listen, I LOVE a good burger. I think that's been well established. However, I'm relatively fussy about bun:nonbun ratio. As a result, I often eat only half of a sandwich bun, or remove it completely if the quality of the burger is high enough. I can do without the bun, in general, is what I'm saying. Hence my glee over the meatwich trend. ANYWAY.

I usually let Ava place her own order at restaurants, which as a former server I FULLY REALIZE is annoying, but I will thank you to SHUT IT. When I was a kid you could have TASED my ass, and I STILL wouldn't have talked to a cashier. Not Ava. Must be the east coast blood, IDK. Anyhoo, she ordered a hot dog kids meal, looked the cashier straight in the eye, and said, "NO BUN. Right, mommy?"

GAH! Throw me under the Food Police Bus, why dontcha! IT HOLDS THE BUN OR IT GETS THE HOSE. Jesus. For the record, I don't ORDER my food without buns, for the love of christ. That's straight-up Fussypants. I just take it as advertised and deal with it at the privacy of my own table! ("what are you doing? I'm REMOVING THE SUPERFLUOUS BUNS!").

So, that Policy thing is going well. Ish.

Anyway, the point of this entire post was to give you my standard fast food orders, as inspired by real-life bestie Aggie:

McDonald's: I never EAT at McDonald's, I only drink coffee. Their bun:meat ratio is completely unacceptable. I do like chicken nuggets though.

Wendy's: Double with cheese, 1/2 bun. Chili instead of fries. Possible frosty chaser, depending on success of Mood Regulation Strategies.

Taco Bell/Bueno: Tosc hates Taco Bell, and always makes me go to Taco Bueno. Don't get me started, because all he ever orders are bean burritos, and WHAT IS THE FUCKING DIFFERENCE? Last time I checked, reconstituted refried beans were PRETTY MUCH A COMMODITY! Ahem. Taco salad.

Jack-in-the-box: Southwest Chicken Salad

Sonic: Extra-long chili cheese coney. Possible PARTIAL bun, but definitely not the whole thing. If you completely SKIP the bun, you don't fully partake in the soaked-in chili cheesy goodness. It's a delicate balance. Such is life.

Chik-fil-a: Chargrilled chicken salad, bleu cheese dressing. No croutons. Fucking croutons are a crime against nature. Stale bread. Now there's a taste sensation I can pretty much do without.

Boston Market: 1/4 dark chicken, caesar salad (86 CROUTONS) or creamed spinach.

I think it goes without saying that I'll be requiring some of YOUR standard orders, particularly if you've got any freaky tendencies you're no doubt passing along to your innocent children.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Foul

Man, my mood is foul today. I sort of feel like crying, which of course I'm not going to DO. Pull your head out of your ass! Honestly, I'm embarrassed I even TYPED that, which is really fucked up, but there it is.

*I just got back from my biweekly lunch date with Ava, and they had all of the kids' Family Heritage Dolls displayed out in the hallway. Outstanding. I didn't know that shit was going to be ON DISPLAY. Kind of reminds me of the Thanksgiving Episode where I filled out a "thankful-for" leaf saying I was thankful for gingerbread lattes, and then when the teacher displayed them I saw all of the other parents said they were thankful for THEIR CHILDREN. Awkward. Anyway, there was a description by each doll, and one of them said, "Andrew lives in Texas, and his daddy lives in AUSTRALIA". The doll was holding a little Aussie flag. I'm not exactly sure why, but it just fucking BUMMED ME OUT.

*Tosc is at the fire station tonight and so we won't be doing Monday Funday. Sad trumpet. I sort of...MISS HIM today, which is straight-up clingy because we were practically attached at the hip for the last week straight. And normally I sort of look forward to his nights at the station so I can get some time to myself or whatever. I've often said that I'm actually quite well suited to being the partner of a firefighter. I'm not a worrier, and I like the semi-regular nights to myself. So I don't know what my fucking problem is today. Apparently, I'm attached to the young lad, who knew. Over the weekend we were discussing Jane's cancer (WHAT? It is TOO appropriate!), and all of a sudden I realized that Tosc is totally the "hold your purse" guy. I mean, that's HIM. I dunno. It kind of punched me in the gut, for some strange reason. I don't even know what that says about me. I'll try not to dwell on it (TOO LATE).

*I have to get my car inspected, and by that I mean my inspection EXPIRED like 3 weeks ago. Nice. Tosc is all, "just go do it on your lunch hour". Now then. Tosc is a car guy, meaning he likes nice cars and has always driven relatively new cars. Not to be an ass or whatever (HA! HAHA!), but the whole inspection thing is a completely different experience when you drive a nice, new car. MY car is over 12 years old, has over $150K miles on it, and has been in 2 wrecks THAT I KNOW OF. Whereas he pulls in to the shop, exchanges his $50 for an inspection sticker, and goes about his business, it's significantly MORE of a nail-biter for me, because you never know WHAT kind of bullshit they will find "wrong" with my car, and what it will cost to walk out the door with that precious, precious stickah. It's a little like Russian Roulette; at best you maintain the status quo, and at worst...BAM! SUDDEN DEATH! Or whatever. So, that will be fun. On the plus side, there's an auto shop in my neighborhood with a bar across the street. I ask you, why didn't *I* think of that?

Friday, April 16, 2010

If you must know

TA DAAA! It turns out that Carlos DIDN'T get his own "Family Heritage Doll" (I shocked myself by actually ASKING), leaving me responsible for cooking up an appropriate hybrid.

So that happened. Without the aid of glue, since of course I didn't have any. What, this is a KITCHEN, not a goddamned HOBBY LOBBY!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

The most offensive post I've ever written, on many levels

People, I have long had a dream that one day we would replace any and all bread products with FRIED MEAT, and I am happy to report that day has arrived. May I present yesterday's lunch, aka the Double Down from KFC!

Awwww yeah, baby. Actually, this picture doesn't even do it justice, as you can't see that there are TWO kinds of cheese and also BACON inside it. God bless America. This was, no shit, the best thing I've eaten in a long, LONG time. Oh pipe down Food Police, I had a salad too.

Anyway, here is where I could insert an obnoxious diatribe regarding food choices, but it's your lucky day, because I'm not in the mood. You haters can go on ahead and eat all the bread you want, that's just MORE MEAT FOR ME. I will say that the DD costs nearly $5, which is approaching my threshold for a fast food...."sandwich"? Thingee. So, there's that. Moving on, because I'm PRE-irritated about your reactions to this. NICE MOOD TESS.

Q: What in the holy hell is THIS thing?

A: It's a "Family Heritage Doll", where "doll" means "half-assed posterboard cutout inexplicably featuring opposable thumbs." Ava came home with it on Monday, and we are to decorate it to "showcase our family heritage," as she will be presenting it to the class on Friday. Now then.

First of all, this picture makes the doll look like a Real Hispanic, but I swear it's the lighting, because in person it's straight-up White Bread. Which is awk. Did they give the darker-skinned kids darker colored dolls? I do not know! This whole situation is a recipe for disenfranchisement and it gives me the Nervous Tummy! I need a doctor's note for this shit!

Second of all, let us reflect for a moment on my rich Family Heritage: I am a white accountant from Minnesota. How unique and deeply interesting. And Carlos got his OWN doll, so I can't even play the Fake Hispanic card. This is bullshit, man! How do you represent your dubious "heritage" using only a glue gun and various craft detritus to begin with? HALP!

At this point, I'm seriously considering scrawling REGULATION WHITEY across the thing with a Sharpie and being done with it. GAWD.

Welp, if you'll excuse me, I'm just a few Double Downs away from hell in a handbasket, so I must be going.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Nobody puts Baby in the corner

Fucking Monday Funday. I'm a littled peaked this morning, I'm not gonna lie. But at least I'm sitting here on my ass, drinking coffee and chatting with you fine people, and not at the fire station doing ROPES TRAINING like Tosc. OMG. Sucks to be him. You know, I'm constantly meeting douchebags who can't wait to tell me how they could NEVAH EVAH work at a "desk job," and how it would suck their very will to live, etc etc. Well, how's the flat screen and comfy chair lookin' now, my friend? ENJOY YOUR PHYSICAL EXERTION!

Speaking of TITFTLOG FAILS, our (female) bartender insisted on calling Tosc "baby" the entire night. Now then. I think we can all agree that this was a risky move, what with me being RIGHT FUCKING THERE THE ENTIRE TIME and all. Being the charitable and open-minded sort that I am, I even afforded her the opportunity to revise her strategy after I offered MY credit card to start the tab, making it clear that Baby would not be calculating her tip. (Fun fact: he never does. Even when he pays, I decide the tip). Still, she persevered. Interesting decision. Statistically speaking, the "baby" thing must pay off in the long run. With a high degree of variability, as sometimes Baby will tip you 50%, while other times Baby's girlfriend will stiff you completely and also dissect your clearly significant intellect on her blog.

Well anyway, this is purely an academic exercise, as I am pathologically incapable of leaving less than 20% tip. WAMP WAMP. Buzzkill. Damn you, previous restaurant job. Also, I didn't really care. I AM interested in the...DECISION TREE that led her to that particular course of action, though. What the FUCK.

Aaaand, I have penned yet another thoughtful, if slightly hungover, missive. As always, the pleasure is mine.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Bummed

Does anyone else feel like SO MUCH BAD SHIT is happening lately? Is 2010 REALLY going to have the balls to be worse than 2009? Fuck that, man. Not cool. Perhaps my mistake is in assuming that bad things happen in a linear fashion, with predictable and sufficient space in between. But, as the book I just finished points out, life is more like whacking a ketchup bottle: you may whack consistently, but the results are anything but.

Well, hope you enjoyed that Deep Thought by Jack Handey. Christ. Speaking of deep(ish) thoughts, I recently enjoyed another epic battle in my quest to get others to understand the Sunk Cost Theory.

FACT: Tosc and Ava and I have plane tickets to MN the weekend of Mothers Day.
FACT: The cost of each ticket was $175 (a good deal)

SITUATION: A highly desirable fire department is doing physical agility testing on the weekend we are supposed to travel to MN (we did not know this at the time we bought the tickets). Passing the physcial agility test is mandatory if Tosc wants to be considered for a job with this department (he does). There are no make-up dates for the test.

Now then. Which of the above FACTS are relevant to the above SITUATION? The answer is NEITHER OF THEM OMG OMG OMG. The plane ticket, regardless of price, is a SUNK COST. We will not be getting that money back, no matter what we do on Mothers Day. Even if the ticket had been $10,000, it should not be used as a basis for any future decision.

Why do I appear to be the only person on GAWD'S GREEN EARTH who understands this? And you know what's an even WORSE decision than choosing a clearly suboptimal path in order to not "waste" money that has already been spent? Paying even MORE money to change the ticket to some OTHER date, when he doesn't even WANT to travel! That's like buying even more fucking Enron stock just so that losing your original investment won't be so painful!

*pant pant pant*

Sigh. Hey, you know what would help? Foah the love of gawd, tell me about the many ways in which you fail to apply the sunk cost theory. Clean plate club, anyone? (OMG guilty).

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Hangover

Welp, I'm back from Vegas, which is wicked depressing on many levels, not the least of which is the fact that I can no longer carry a cocktail strapped to my person as I go about my daily activities. Weak.

You know, I actually think I drank LESS in Vegas than I normally would, simply because in Vegas there is absolutely no pressure to finish your drink before you leave a place. Have half a glass of wine left after your meal? NO WORRIES! Consider it a parting gift along with a starlight mint! In fact, take this sippy cup and lanyard so you can remain hands-free! At one point, I bought a drink at a casino bar, carried it with me INTO A SHOPPING MALL, and then to our table at a restaurant (!!), where I finished it with dinner. I mean, really. Ironically, the only place you CAN'T carry a drink in Vegas is a tattoo parlor. Thus ensuring that 100% of Vegas tattoos are administered to the sober. Christ. (Fun fact: Tosc originally wanted to get a[nother] tattoo in Vegas, but ultimately decided against it because then he wouldn't be able to go in the hot tub. Which is pretty much exactly why I didn't get one either. W.T.F.)

Speaking of Tosc, in a pretty standard move in which I epically failed to TITFTLOG, I put him in charge of photography during the trip. It's well documented that I will tote a $250 camera far and wide across the globe for years on end, without ever actually removing it from my purse. However. At this time I would like to present a photo essay showcasing the types of items Tosc finds worthy of a Vacation Photo:

The, and I quote, "pisser"at the Paris hotel, provided as "evidence" of the upscale nature of the hotel.

The fountain outside the Bellagio, featuring not the famous water show, but the significantly LESS famous MAINTENANCE DUDES.

Gigantic Man-vs.-Food burrito, which is free if entirely consumed in one hour. Tosc actually got up into this poor teenaged kid's grill to take this one. AND made me walk across the bar like 5 times "to check on the status". Which was, at each and every juncture, "disgusting yet insignificant progress".

Bickering gay couple sitting next to us at the bar. Actually, these guys were kind of awesome. This picture basically captures the essence.

Mulleted dude wearing cutoff 2003 Old Navy shirt and ponytail. Because we can't find any of THOSE right here in Texas. Jesus H.

SIGH. This is probably his screensaver by now.

Oh, and my sister got married too. Congratulations, you crazy kids. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have photographic evidence that someone let a fucking teenaged boy name their Mexican restaurant.