Back From BC

You might have noticed that J and I are not exactly the partying kind. This is from a combination of working and habits from when we were broke and the fact that we are not exactly college kids anymore. We like to have a good time but it's pretty rare that we go out and act like drunken fools.

So we did it for a whole damn weekend.

J had a business trip last week and I joined him for a little fun in Victoria, BC.

I am so worn out y'all. I acted like a grown up and rode up there with (GASP) a stranger and did NOT die (shocks me too). I re-discovered the vodka gimlet (I re-discovered it again and again actually, I believe the vodka gimlet and I are BFF and also possibly married in some more forgiving countries). A very fake woolly mammoth scared the shit out of me. I got picked up and then called a baby killer by the same obnoxious guy.

Oh the hits just kept on coming.

Due to some shenanigans on Saturday we didn't sleep pretty much at all. And then we got home last last night. So for now I will sleep in.

But tomorrow . . .pictures of the MAMMOTH!

Melodramatic?

Oh poor L. I spent at least half of her day whining about my damn hair. I am not adjusting to the length or professional coloring well (actually I like the color but I am not adjusting to not being able to do it at my own damn convenience very well, I don't have an appointment until the 12th--that is like next year). And I was like FIND ME A HAIR CUT WOMAN.

I just bitched and whined at her for hours via email. I don't even know why it was bugging me so much today. Well I do. It isn't so cute and I am bored with long hair but I promised J I would keep it long a little while longer (since I am never growing it out again) so I am toughing it out. I guess it isn't toughing if you whine the entire time.

But it made me think about all the shit that L and I talk about all day. Hair and makeup, clothes, vacuum cleaners. The best way to clean the dishwasher. We talk about her kids and lightly on politics, our parents, our junior high school, thongs and what to eat for lunch.

What did people do at work before the internet? And what would I do if she wasn't on her email all day?

Die of loneliness.

Pre-Death Cleaning

J is getting smashed on his business trip. I came home to the dogs having shit all over the basement.

Then I smashed the fuck out of our old microwave cart with a mini sledge hammer. Buster and Darla were all wild eyed like I have this history of hitting them with sledge hammers. Which is not true except that one time when they barked at imaginary bugs for seven hours straight but you understand.

Then I cleaned the kitchen and floors because when your husband goes away the best thing to do is start acting like a repressed housewife. Actually, I just wanted it to be reasonably clean in case we died in like a ferry accident or something. So my mother wouldn't know we live like animals.

How Many Times Can I Use The Word Fuck In One Entry

I am so frustrated with the fucking Cubs I can barely stand it. It isn't just that Lou is mis-managing the games, or players or wasting at-bats or that they lost to the CARDINALS at WRIGLEY (though those things are certainly causing some screaminess here) but that they could be, SHOULD BE so much better.

It's just annoying as hell and they are killing my grandpa. He is probably clutching his heart right this second because of your stupid bench management issues LOU PINELLA SO FUCK YOU.

Ok I feel better now.

I have wee case of the fuck this's. My (internal) answer to everything that happens right now is FUCK THIS. Traffic? Fuck this! Seriously bullshitty drama at work about sitting on desks (apparently this is unprofessional and all of ye who participate shall be stoned in the square)? FUCK THIS!

J is leaving town on business tomorrow (fuck this) which will lead to doggy drama (fuck this harder) and he will have fun while I continue to deal with all the desk sitting fall out (fuck this like a goddamn porn star).

I suspect that my case of the Fuck This's will end Friday when I join him in Canada for a little weekend away (and forgive me, a little Fuck This).

Jowls

Further proof that J and I are an excellent match? We were in bed last night watching Gene Simmon's Family Jewels (I know) and Shannon Tweed reveled the results from her face lift. She got the fat under her chin sucked out. And it looks damn good. I looked over at him and said, "that is what we are getting each other for our fiftieth birthday's dude." To which he replied, "Fuck that, who do you think you are married to? Fortieth birthday."

We are jowly people. We might be fat-assed middle Americans working the beer bellies at that age but damn it we will not have the giant jowls.

On another note have you ever bought a lip gloss that you think is just perfect? It's that corally pink that you have been looking for, with a little shine but not glitter? It's the kind of shade that makes you look healthy and polished, not too teen, not matronly. But then you see it in another light and realize that you look like you had S&M sex with a My Little Pony and maybe you shouldn't rock that for day? And then ten minutes later than that you love it again?

Just me? DAMN

The Cubs Lost Today So I Am Skipping Baseball Tonight Anyway

Dirty confession time:

I want to like the Yankees. My team is in the National League and god knows I expect J to cheer for the Cubs (and WOE to him if he fails to do so enthusiastically). I should cheer for his team right? There is much to admire about the Yankees, they play all business baseball, do the right things at the right time. I love so many of the players (Jorge, Mo, Giambi).

But I can't do it. I really can't.

It's Red Sox v. Yankees weekend and the Yankees were just leading game 1 in the 8th with a three run lead. They brought Mo in and he coughed up the lead. That isn't fair, exactly. He has long been vulnerable to bloop shots (he jams hitters) and with runners on base the infield played in and got caught with their pants down. And I started clapping and screaming and cheering.

I guess 2007 isn't the year that I become a Yankee fan.

In other news, Art from Everclear is getting married. Again. I don't actually care about him being married--I'm married and I will still having baking dreams about him--but does the dude ever learn? Hope it works out for him this time. I don't know, on what marriage do you start thinking "hmmm, maybe I am not just picking the wrong person . . ."

At any rate, I think Art may be soon replaced by Robert from Dinner Impossible. There is something impossible hot about that geeky head on the buff body with the accent. And the dude can cook. Maybe in these dreams he will bake for me.

Accidents May Happen

J just dumped ten gallons of hot water on our kitchen floor (and the wood floors in the hall) by breaking our humidifier (savior of allergy season) and turned our house into a swamp.

Then I dumped Kool Aid on my brand new briefcase.

As he put it, no laptops were harmed during these incidents so we should be grateful. And not touch any liquids for a while.

Back To The Petty

I know that L linked me (welcome y'all!) but I am just exhausted from being so fucking angry. The past couple of days have just been this vat of rage and disappointment. I cannot believe what assholes people are (pundits saying that victims should have fought back because he only had handguns GOD) and the racism and the threats of more violence. Damn y'all. It is 2007.

I thought we were better than this.

Actually I didn't. I want us to be though.

At any rate, it's back to normal petty nonsense which is what this site is really about. This past weekend I bought some new earbuds for my I-Pod (really AB? RIVETING) and I wanted this set that were twenty five dollars because I am cheap and that seems like a lot to me so I really didn't want anything that was 50-80 bucks which is what most of them were. We get to the checkout stand and these were really 40 dollars (fucking Best Buy always has their shit mislabeled and no price tags and BULLSHIT). J gave me all kinds of shit about being so cheap and how these would sound so amazing and I should live a little.

So I bought them. Because apparently I cave when my husband makes fun of me (this is also how I got the I-Pod to begin with, also every single nice thing I own I think). And they really do sound amazing. I mean I almost missed my stop on the bus because the are noise cancelling and I didn't hear the driver (must be attentive DAMN) but the quality is fantastic.

And then I lost them.

After ONE DAY.

My ten dollar ones I have had for way over a year. Making them about .003 cents per use. But the new fancy nice ones are forty dollars per use because I am an idiot.

I did find them today. On the ground. Under my car. Where I had run them over and let them get rained on. They seem to still work (I admit I was a little concerned plugging them in because electricity is like magic to me and maybe the little wizard in my I-Pod would be angry about the earphones?).

I just can't have nice things.

Enough

So. Virginia Tech.

I feel a little bullshitty first world, middle class problemy posting about my angst yesterday during the aftermath of the shooting. I have to say I really couldn't process what was happening yesterday and in some ways I still can't.

There are no words for how horrible this situation is--I was watching CNN and the reporter said that as they brought out the bodies cell phones kept ringing and buzzing as families members frantically tried to reach the deceased.

I don't know how people recover from that.

What is overshadowing what should be a country mourning a tragedy is the blatant racism coming out of this.

Let us get this straight, this man did not shoot those people because he is Korean. It has nothing to do with his immigration status, this is not Angry Asian Man Syndrome. This is a sick person with a motive that we do not know yet.

My friend L and I talked about this a lot today. She was worried how people would percieve her family after this. If they would be treated like Muslims after 9/11? Being part of a minority means that you get to wince when some one from your group is accused of a crime. Especially if that crime re-enforces stereotypes. I just hated when Jack Abrahoff was in the news because I knew that the money-grubbing Jew jokes would start.

Ever notice that despite the fact that most shootings of this nature are committed by white men their race isn't discussed. If a white man did this we would be talking about how this is from heavy metal music or some other bullshit. If he were white white students would not be concerned about violence against them and leaving campus. If he were a Russian immigrant RUSSIA WOULD NOT APOLOGIZE FOR HIS ACTIONS.

Do we see the bullshit here?

Since converting to Judaism I now see the white privilege that I have lived (and still do) in. I am a nice average looking white woman with blond hair. No one checks their locks when I walk by, no one reflexively holds their handbag tighter, people do not assume I am really great at math. This is how it should be for everyone. But we all know that it isn't. We all have prejudices built into our behaviors. And the challenge for us all, individually and collectively, is to admit that and call ourselves on it. To try to change our behavior.

This is not about political correctness, which I believe is a myth (seriously, people always talk about how people aren't short but vertically challenged but have you EVER heard some one really demand you use that term). This is about using words that are respectful. This is about not making assumptions about some one's character based on their appearance. We have taken care of the outward institutionalized stuff in this country--we are desegregated, we have laws against discrimination--but we need to embrace the attitudes that the country was built on. "I'm not politically correct" is the siren call of the asshole. It is an excuse to be rude, to hurt people, to offend and it blames the victim. And I am tired of it. It is the exaggerated equivalent of calling a guy named James "Jimmy" even though you know he hates it. It infantilizes him, it makes him feel powerless and it makes you a piece of shit. Humiliating those who cannot defend themselves is easy.

I have not spoken up when people say these things in front of me. I didn't want to appear too sensitive or be accused of being politically correct and BULLSHIT. I shouldn't care about that. And I won't. It's not censorship to explain to people they are offensive, it's not wrong to do what you can to make it stop.

This man did a horrible thing and irreparable damage. He destroyed families and a university and our sense of security. Hold him responsible. And honor those who died by not blaming his race but in remembering the victims.

I Don't Drive A Mini-Van So FUCK OFF

It comes as no secret to anyone reading this that I have issues.

J and I got married pretty young and for some reason to a lot of people this translates into I forced him into getting married and have destroyed his life. Because of course married people never have sex, or fun, or enjoy their lives. And I am a tad (have you noticed?) shall we say defensive about it. In fact, I totally become that humorless shrew that sitcoms portray wives to be (how to network execs go home to their wives after approving that shit) on the subject. I fucking hate it.

I am going to say this one time into the universe and then attempt (ATTEMPT) to let it go. J asked me to marry him. At no time have I put a gun to his head. Believe it or not, sometimes men want to get married. I KNOW. It is shocking since obviously women have been programmed since birth to trap themselves a husband who they can suck the joy from and destroy his spirit!

I love my life. Love my husband, love the city I live in, love my job--my life fucking rules. And I am fairly certain that J loves his life too (unless he is a secret agent that is just toiling in this marriage as some elaborate IT related cover which um OK I guess is possible). The big difference between his life as a single man and life as a married man is that he doesn't live in a dump, the food is better and he isn't really allowed to pork hot chicks anymore (except me, naturally). Contrary to sitcoms and the editors of Details Magazine married people do the things that single people do--they go to concerts and out to dinner, they have SEX (shocking, I know, don't tell my mom), they have FUN. Or maybe they don't. I know a lot of boring-ass single people too. We don't party much, you won't find us doing keg-stands, at least not on school-nights, but I am pretty sure that I wouldn't even if I were single. Drinking like that isn't really fun for me anymore. But being married is a good thing for me.

I don't judge anyone for not being married. I think a lot of those people have a great life happening. They might travel more than us (which is at all basically), or have less family-friendly careers. I don't think anyone has to be married or have kids to be happy (though I continue to maintain that if you constantly regale me of tales of your wild and crazy life that it is probably isn't that wild and crazy and reeks of desperation).

I'm going to (TRY to) stop caring about what these people think of me. I am tired of being out with a bunch of men and having to prove that I am a cool wife (though I totally fucking am so bite me) or having them silently look at me like I have ruined J's life. Yes, he cares about wood flooring now--we all GROW AND CHANGE. From now on anyone who gives me a shit about it will get a shrug.

Or a kick in the balls.

I'm just growing and changing here.

Weekend Wrap Up

Uncle Chris was here this weekend and he wanted to see the best that Everett had to offer in evening entertainment.

Somehow we ended up at a frightening dive Chinese restaurant at 2am with me consulting a bunch of strange men about my haircut and trying to get a cab home.

This seemed like a fine idea until we had to play a double header in softball today.

Was a gorgeous day. Sunny and warm. Since I am just subbing on this team I just wanted to not make an ass of myself and be better than nothing. High standards.

But I got a couple of hits and even had a good running play. YES RUNNING PLAY. I know. ESPN filmed it, I am sure it will be on Sportscenter tonight.

We saw The Pathfinder yesterday. I think we have the front runner for next year's Razzies. Some seriously terrible acting, gratuitous violence that wasn't particularly interesting and somehow their costume designer failed to realize that Native American is not the same thing as a Hawaiian HULA DANCER.

Feel free to skip. I mean, I liked the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie.

An Indication Of Health

I had to go into the lab today for some blood work (for those familiar with fertility workups the Day 22 blood work with a thyroid chaser). I felt incredibly sorry for the people in the waiting room of the walk-in clinic where the wait was already at two hours.

The lab tech who worked with me looked exactly like Katie Holmes. Not in a mildly similar way, but in a damn, I knew her career was in the toilet but this is ridiculous way. Also, not like I want some one who has had a lobotomy to jam a needle in my arm.

I am possibly the easiest person ever to draw blood from but she managed to bruise the hell out of me anyway. I suppose that is a talent.

The kid waiting next to me was coughing in such an ugly manner and getting a chest x-ray that I am sure I will have the plague or pneumonia any second now. Of course I don't think he was dying because he ogled my boobs rather obviously.

Do dying boys look at breasts?

He was like fifteen so probably.

She Would Be So Proud

My mother taught me that people who were brought up right wear new clothes and accessories that they buy immediately. Her theory is that if you love something you will want to use it right away and that if you don't then you probably shouldn't have bought it.

This theory has served me well. I tend to make few shopping mistakes.

Which is why I spent my afternoon plotting my outfit around my new shiny (in turquoise). I still haven't figured out what I am going to wear tomorrow but I think the skipping I did after buying that is a good sign of happiness to come.

Even better? Through various deals and earning of my advanced shopping badge I even got it for much less than that price.

I can feel my mother beaming at me from here.

Skeletons Best Kept In the Closet Not Making Out On A Desk Where People Can See You

Have you ever wanted to unlearn something you know?

I rode in on the bus this morning with a friend. She works in another part of Workplace but we know a lot of the same people. And she told me a bit of information about some coworkers that I don't want to know.

Turns out that this person cheated on his girlfriend, that works at Workplace, with another woman at Workplace. And this woman is his current girlfriend. Apparently, everyone knows about it and the two carried on in the office and in public until the original girlfriend found out and left him (they lived together).

This is so out of the realm of my business it is ridiculous.

But I can't help it. It bothers me. To me cheating on your spouse (which in this case, you are living together so I mean that is close enough) is a cruel thing. But to do it at work (how professional!) especially when all three of you work in the same place (which DEAR GOD PEOPLE DON'T FUCK OTHERS AT WORK THIS IS NOT HARD) just seems vindictive and mean.

He is such a nice man. But I cannot help but feel differently about him now.

He'll never notice. It's none of my business. But I am still feeling a little WTF about it you know? I guess we all have our skeletons.

Letters to Everyone

Dear People in the Elevator At Work,
I know! It's crazy that you have to like wait for everyone on the elevator to like get out of the elevator. That like requires patience and shit. It's just a bummer how we are all bound by the laws of physics and no matter how much you shove you just won't fucking fit in here until we all get out. WHO KNEW?
Love,
Girl Who Will Totally Fucking Shove You Back Bitches

Dear Self,
Stop coveting white handbags. You cannot even keep your pale blue trench coat clean--have you seen the cuffs lately? You would get ink on it, dump a diet coke inside of it and have a red lipstick smear all over the place on the very first day. You are a disaster. Get over it.
Love,
Self, I am totally not kidding stop with the wanting WHITE no matter how fresh and springy you think they are.

Dear Weather,
Fuck you. I was wearing spring shit today and it is COLD AS HAM here.
Love,
The United States (I shouldn't bitch, at least it isn't snowing here. YET)

Dear Fast Food Chinese Lunch Place,
I didn't actually want you. But I figured your spicy beef would be a solution to my belly um NEEDS. I had my hungry beer goggles on and you were good enough. And then you went and had a broken credit card machine. You are the cock tease of the food court.
Damn you and your hot pepper flakes,
The blond girl who had to stop herself from having a tantrum at your counter, I know PMS much?

Dear Bob Howry and Cliff Floyd,
Get the stick out boys. This is supposed to be the season y'all don't break my heart. I know it's early but a disturbing trend. And Lou? Start playing Murton. None of this pinch hitter nonsense. Put that adorable little redhead in the game.
Thanks,
I Can't Screech When I Am Watching The Score Tracker At Work But I Can NOW

Silver Linings

I guess in the big scheme of things I should just be thankful that when Darla barfed in the bed that I was no longer in it.

Happy Pesach

As with all marriages we have a division of labor in the AB household. I would say it is roughly 50-50, with both of us taking up the slack of the other when needs warrant it. Yes, we have mysteriously divided it up along traditional sex-roles a little more often than I would have pictured in my women's college days but you know what? I hate mowing the lawn. And he dusts terribly. But part of the division of labor that I loathe is that I seem to be in charge of home life. I doubt that will change but I don't want to Mommy the man so I have very carefully (and sometimes resentfully) resisted being in charge of our spiritual life.

Part of converting is figuring out what you need from your religion. Judaism isn't just going to temple or reading the Torah, it is being part of a community and living your life a certain way. And it looks different for every person. So while I was the driver behind meeting with the rabbi and going to class and I certainly do more to study and learn than he does I do not want to be in charge of his Jewish life. So with Passover this week I asked idly what he wanted to do and he didn't really answer. For me, I can be Jewish without ever attending temple (honestly, the most compelling things in Judaism happen outside of temple), even though I like going, so I wasn't going to worry about it. So color me fucking annoyed when he was a little bratty about not having a Seder to attend at the last minute.

BUT. I toughed it out and found us one (because if I waited for him well . . .this is how I was looking the day that Passover began) for last night. I hate calling strangers and meeting with strangers and have about eighty kinds of social anxiety and this hit every one of those buttons.

I am so glad we did it.

It was a community Seder. Attended by J's old boss (who's wife needs to pull the stick out because there is NO NEED to be so passive aggressive Missy) and no one else we knew. And it ruled.

We sat at a table with a bunch of old Christian ladies. They were curious about the holiday and had the most cheerful attitude. They were really trying to learn and experience. They ate all the food (one even begged me to find out what kind of horseradish we were eating and I think she ate most of a jar). They got drunk on the wine and asked lots of questions (Jesus really didn't have a Seder? I thought that was the Last Supper?). They were a delight.

Best part? We weren't the new Jews. To them we were experts. The only annoying part is I am pretty sure they thought I was a shiksa and gave J credit for being born Jewish. Damn him and his dark hair! He claims that even I dyed mine I wouldn't pass but SIGH.

They said they were going to come next year and want to sit at our table.

Passover is the holiday most celebrated by Jews around the world. And it is not celebrated in the temple but in the home. That is really the essence of Judaism (though the woman leading the Seder last night claimed it was the wine which good point). This is part of what makes it hard to convert--you have no one to learn these traditions from, no one to celebrate them with. But this is what makes it special. One of the most important times of the year is celebrated in the home, with your family (or the family you have created). I feel lucky that we got to share it with everyone last night.

It's Only Opening Day

And I have already told Joe Morgan to SHUT THE FUCK UP eleventy-thousand times. I know he is a Hall of Famer and all but could he not suck David Eckstein's dick the entire broadcast?

Since MLB still hasn't gotten their thumbs out of their asses and got the damn cable deal done I am facing a season of no Extra Innings. They have until midnight but could we get this deal done so I can watch some baseball.

I have to work tomorrow and so does J, so we can't gorge ourselves on baseball even if the package does get done. So even though it's Mets v. Cardinals tonight I am having to enjoy this. So many people my age don't like baseball and I guess I understand why. Being a baseball fan takes time, it takes effort. It's a game that is best if you follow the game, pay attention, love a team, love the players. It isn't a drop-in game. And I find that a lot of people just don't want to be active fans--they want the game to just unfold in front of them and entertain them. But baseball is at it's best when you are screaming at the TV (because Joe Morgan is an annoying ass) and disagreeing with the manager and even in the stands you are bitching with the other fans. That is why I am so heartbroken y'all--I AM GOING TO MISS SWEET LOU'S FIRST CUBBIE MELTDOWN IF THEY DON'T GET THIS DEAL DONE.

That might kill me.

So all y'all who don't like baseball, I feel sorry for you. There is nothing like Opening Day. There is nothing like loving a sport so much that you know entirely too much about it. I hate Cardinal fans, HATE THEM, but I love them at the same time. Because at least they love baseball. Even if their manager is a drunken cocksucker and they inexplicably just gave him a standing ovation.

Assholes.