Okay, so today I go downstairs to the cafeteria to get a Noodle Bowl, and am delighted to find out that the Noodle Place gives you a fortune cookie with your food. I love fortune cookies, especially the vanilla-flavored ones (as opposed to the orangey ones) - it may be hard for your tastebuds to distinguish between the actual cookie and the paper fortune, but dangit, it's not about flavor, it's about the fortune. And sometimes the lucky numbers/say it in Chinese! feature on the back of the fortune. Frankly, there's a lot of enjoyment to be had in something so small and uncomplicated.
My delight was, however, significantly dampened when I realized that I had taken the World's Lamest Fortune Cookie (tm). You may ask, how Lame does a fortune cookie have to be to win the title of World's Lamest (tm)? I give you Exhibit A, my fortune:
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Take that step today!"
This is annoying on so many levels. First and foremost, it is NOT A FORTUNE. At best, it is advice - extremely vague advice at that, and not really very helpful, even if I WERE the type to make major life decisions based on what cellophane-wrapped desserts told me to do. But this sort of offense has reached near epidemic levels in the fortune cookie world, so it is hardly surprising. Secondly - that exclamation point. Fortunes should be vaguely, solemnly inspiring...not perky. There are starving aerobics instructors in Africa that would be thrilled to have that exclamation point - it's really just going to waste here. Perhaps most importantly, the fortune is not improved AT ALL by adding the words, "in bed!" Even the lamest non-fortunes become funny when you add "in bed," (i.e., It is better to give than to receive...in bed) and the best ones become that much better (i.e., You are the greatest person in the world...in bed). But not this fortune - the "in bed" appendix does nothing for it, and it's only marginally improved by the addition of "in my pants." But only because "in my pants" is an inherently funnier phrase than "in bed" - it still doesn't make any sense, but at least the "in my pants" is there to bring home the giggle. But oh...it gets worse. I flip my fortune over, only to find...no lottery numbers...no "how to say 'milk' in Chinese!" (that one's my favorite because dude, Chinese people are largely lactose intolerant - is it really a word I'm going to use much should I ever need to put my fortune-cookie language skills to use? Will I really ever find myself in a situation saying, "Dammit, if I only had the vocabulary, I could talk to this Chinese person about DAIRY!"?)...just the same damned fortune IN FRENCH. You know what? "Take the first step today!" in French? EQUALLY LAME.
Man. If a girl can't enjoy her Western bastardizations of Chinese culture, what reason is there to go on living? Or at least, to buy an overpriced noodle bowl?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Heart is where the Home is...
"Outside, autumn is over, and yet it's not quite winter. Indiana farmlands speed past in black and white. Beautiful. Until you remember that the world is supposed to be in color."
-ZZ Packer
I've been feeling homesick lately, but I think it's really much more a matter of being wintersick. I mean, I'm sitting here at my desk at work, looking out my window at the falling snow, and while Virginia got about 6" of snow over the weekend, it's mostly sunny and well above freezing there today. So even when it's snowing, it's still perfectly reasonable to go out, snap some pictures (I was out for all of maybe 10 minutes yesterday to take this shot, and my fingertips were numb by the time I got a single shot), play in the snow, whatever. I miss that. The overall dreariness of winter is starting to weigh on me - I'm tired of the world being in black and white, sick of being cooped up and not able to go out and play. Now I know how the dogs must feel when they're left in their crate all day while the family is out and about. But a couple of things have come my way over the weekend that have made me think about home more than usual. Apparently, my home state became the first to openly apologize for the institution of slavery on Saturday. I never know what to say about things like that - does such an apology really make anyone feel any better? Does it right the wrongs committed by our forefathers? And whose job is it to accept or reject said apology? I am, quite frankly, surprised that it took this long for someone to officially apologize, but I guess I'm glad it was my state that did it. Especially since it wasn't that long ago that we were officially observing Lee-Jackson-King Day every January - racial sensitivity is learned in baby steps, my friends. It's an odd little landmark, but it does make me miss the goofy split personality of the state. Virginia is deeply torn between the yuppie suburbia of the D.C. area, the down-home country simplicity of the small towns and farms, the urban decay of the larger cities, and the deep Southern gentility that tends to be associated with the capital of the Confederacy. It can be as infuriating as it is inspiring, but I have to say that I miss that environment and am a true product of it - being the child of Midwesterners, raised in the D.C. area but still south of the Mason-Dixon line, I enjoy being able to play a number of different roles in a particular situation - southern belle or damn yankee, city mouse or country mouse, culture vulture or crunchy granola, according to whichever role best suits my mood on that day. I like to think it keeps people guessing, when I'm sure it's more accurate to say that it convinces them I'm a lunatic. But my friends from back home get it.
But what really made me homesick was when I was goofing around on Flickr and found this. How does something like that NOT make you homesick? It made me realize that it's been many moons since I've seen VA during the fall season, and that is by far the best time to do all of the camping, hiking, wine tasting, sightseeing, and picture-taking that I so love to do. And so the ZZ Packer quote comes to mind - even in winter, the world SHOULD be in color, dagnabbit! Unless of course you're after a black and white shot, but I prefer those when they're by design, not by default. :) I may never move back to VA, but I don't think it will ever stop being Home. So I'm left in Toronto, watching the snow fall, and wondering how long it will be before the spring flowers will give me a reason to stop wishing I was there. Regardless, I guarantee I won't be whining about being far from home come August....
-ZZ Packer
I've been feeling homesick lately, but I think it's really much more a matter of being wintersick. I mean, I'm sitting here at my desk at work, looking out my window at the falling snow, and while Virginia got about 6" of snow over the weekend, it's mostly sunny and well above freezing there today. So even when it's snowing, it's still perfectly reasonable to go out, snap some pictures (I was out for all of maybe 10 minutes yesterday to take this shot, and my fingertips were numb by the time I got a single shot), play in the snow, whatever. I miss that. The overall dreariness of winter is starting to weigh on me - I'm tired of the world being in black and white, sick of being cooped up and not able to go out and play. Now I know how the dogs must feel when they're left in their crate all day while the family is out and about. But a couple of things have come my way over the weekend that have made me think about home more than usual. Apparently, my home state became the first to openly apologize for the institution of slavery on Saturday. I never know what to say about things like that - does such an apology really make anyone feel any better? Does it right the wrongs committed by our forefathers? And whose job is it to accept or reject said apology? I am, quite frankly, surprised that it took this long for someone to officially apologize, but I guess I'm glad it was my state that did it. Especially since it wasn't that long ago that we were officially observing Lee-Jackson-King Day every January - racial sensitivity is learned in baby steps, my friends. It's an odd little landmark, but it does make me miss the goofy split personality of the state. Virginia is deeply torn between the yuppie suburbia of the D.C. area, the down-home country simplicity of the small towns and farms, the urban decay of the larger cities, and the deep Southern gentility that tends to be associated with the capital of the Confederacy. It can be as infuriating as it is inspiring, but I have to say that I miss that environment and am a true product of it - being the child of Midwesterners, raised in the D.C. area but still south of the Mason-Dixon line, I enjoy being able to play a number of different roles in a particular situation - southern belle or damn yankee, city mouse or country mouse, culture vulture or crunchy granola, according to whichever role best suits my mood on that day. I like to think it keeps people guessing, when I'm sure it's more accurate to say that it convinces them I'm a lunatic. But my friends from back home get it.
But what really made me homesick was when I was goofing around on Flickr and found this. How does something like that NOT make you homesick? It made me realize that it's been many moons since I've seen VA during the fall season, and that is by far the best time to do all of the camping, hiking, wine tasting, sightseeing, and picture-taking that I so love to do. And so the ZZ Packer quote comes to mind - even in winter, the world SHOULD be in color, dagnabbit! Unless of course you're after a black and white shot, but I prefer those when they're by design, not by default. :) I may never move back to VA, but I don't think it will ever stop being Home. So I'm left in Toronto, watching the snow fall, and wondering how long it will be before the spring flowers will give me a reason to stop wishing I was there. Regardless, I guarantee I won't be whining about being far from home come August....
Saturday, February 24, 2007
It's the little rings that count.
File this under things that make me happy: While standing in line at H&M, there's a guy whose wife/girlfriend/significant other/babymama has left him in charge of watching their child in the stroller (one of those hardcore, all-terrain strollers with the big wheels with big fat treads on the tires) while she pays for her purchases. Guy gets a phone call. Guy's ringtone is..."Let's Get it On" by none other than Marvin Gaye. Now, it's not every guy that can pull off Marvin Gaye with a stroller, but this guy totally did. And while I was in his vicinity, he got, like, 3 phone calls. Guy is infinitely more cool than I will ever be. And it got me thinking, what does your ringtone say about you? Mine is currently "Beautiful" by G. Love and Special Sauce, but my phone rarely rings, so it's kind of a moot point. My old phone had "Baby's Got Sauce," also by G. Love, but I had to get a new phone when I moved and my current provider doesn't offer that particular title (a very sad day in my world). So I pose the question to you, my readers: what is your ringtone at the moment?
Other things that made me happy today:
- The exceedingly random selection of forgotten 80's hits that followed me around the mall.
- Sunshine. It was still ass cold, but the days are definitely feeling longer now, and the sun does a body good.
- The ADORABLE sundress I tried on at H&M. I didn't buy it, because I have not yet decided what color I want. I shouldn't buy it, because I don't have much use for dresses. But the problem is, now that I've lost the weight I gained in the last couple of years of grad school, I have found it is impossible to find pants that fit. It is, however, much easier to find dresses that fit. So, I should be buying dresses, not pants. So the only question is, where do I find someone who will take me to the places where it's appropriate to wear the dresses? They're not fancy...just not something I'm going to wear for a day of lab work. Dave, if only you were here to take me swing dancing, all of my problems would be solved.
- I had an...um...interesting dream about one of my crushes last night. Yes, I said "one of" - if you haven't figured it out by now, I am a total crush whore. Here's the weird part - in the dream, I was fully aware that there were four "chapters" to the dream. I came in at the start of chapter 2 (somehow I missed chapter 1, like when I come home from work late and miss the beginning of one of my TV shows...I think I may have slept through part of my own dream), and continued through chapter 3, but woke up right before chapter 4, aka the Good Stuff, started. What gives??? I mean, it's bad enough that I'm not getting any action in real life, but when I don't even get any IN MY DREAMS, that's just pathetic. I can't shake the feeling I had in the dream, though. It's making me see that person in a WHOLE different light, which is funny, since that light only exists in my subconscious.
- Vegas, baby. Vegas.
Other things that made me happy today:
- The exceedingly random selection of forgotten 80's hits that followed me around the mall.
- Sunshine. It was still ass cold, but the days are definitely feeling longer now, and the sun does a body good.
- The ADORABLE sundress I tried on at H&M. I didn't buy it, because I have not yet decided what color I want. I shouldn't buy it, because I don't have much use for dresses. But the problem is, now that I've lost the weight I gained in the last couple of years of grad school, I have found it is impossible to find pants that fit. It is, however, much easier to find dresses that fit. So, I should be buying dresses, not pants. So the only question is, where do I find someone who will take me to the places where it's appropriate to wear the dresses? They're not fancy...just not something I'm going to wear for a day of lab work. Dave, if only you were here to take me swing dancing, all of my problems would be solved.
- I had an...um...interesting dream about one of my crushes last night. Yes, I said "one of" - if you haven't figured it out by now, I am a total crush whore. Here's the weird part - in the dream, I was fully aware that there were four "chapters" to the dream. I came in at the start of chapter 2 (somehow I missed chapter 1, like when I come home from work late and miss the beginning of one of my TV shows...I think I may have slept through part of my own dream), and continued through chapter 3, but woke up right before chapter 4, aka the Good Stuff, started. What gives??? I mean, it's bad enough that I'm not getting any action in real life, but when I don't even get any IN MY DREAMS, that's just pathetic. I can't shake the feeling I had in the dream, though. It's making me see that person in a WHOLE different light, which is funny, since that light only exists in my subconscious.
- Vegas, baby. Vegas.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Things That Suck About Canada
Until now, I've mostly written very nice things about my adopted country, so I figured it was about time to let loose some minor grievances. So without further ado, I present my list of north of the border grievances:
1. Liquor prices. Yellow Tail is a perfectly fine bottle of wine for $5.99 (wow, that's some serious rhymage). For over $12, it is utter crap. A bottle of regular old Jim Beam should never cost $24, and neither should the cheapest cases of beer in the store. I don't care if we ARE talking Canadian dollars - it still ain't right.
2. Wind chill. This is what spawned the formation of this particular List - the winters in Toronto are nearly identical to those I left behind in northern Indiana, except for the wind chill. The wind chill is evil, and it needs to be stopped.
3. It's not delivery, it's DiGiorno, you hosers! NOT Delissio!
4. There is no #4, eh?
5. No VH1. Sure, MuchMusic pretty much consists entirely of recycled programming from VH1 and E!, but that doesn't help me when I want to watch the Flavor of Love finale with my friends back home. Not that I watch Flavor of Love...I mean...um...never mind. Also, all of my MTV shows are at least two weeks behind here. Not that I watch any of those either. What's MTV? Moving on...
6. No BBQ, no Chick-Fil-A, and no real Mexican food. Toronto in particular has loads of things going for it culinarily speaking, but is sorely lacking in these three areas. And before you Canadians reading this try to pipe in and say, "no, wait, I know a great Mexican place..." No, you don't. Trust me. You people don't know what good Mexican food is. It's not your fault, you just don't know any better. Same thing goes for real barbecue - I am more than willing to let you try to prove me wrong, but from what I've seen so far, I am appalled. I have stashed containers of leftovers in my suitcase and had the following conversation at customs:
"Do you have anything to declare? Carrying any alcohol, tobacco, or food items?"
"Just some cooked pork, sir."
I am willing to do it as many times as I must until the Canadian BBQ situation is rectified.
7. No real football. I've addressed this problem before, but feel it needs to be revisited. At this point, you've all either read or attempted to read my play-by-play of the Super Bowl. Responses to this entry have been as sharply divided as Britney Spears and sanity - and that split occurs precisely at the border. The Americans: "Awesome! Loved it!" The Canadians: "So, you...really like football, eh?" Sigh...they will never understand me here...
1. Liquor prices. Yellow Tail is a perfectly fine bottle of wine for $5.99 (wow, that's some serious rhymage). For over $12, it is utter crap. A bottle of regular old Jim Beam should never cost $24, and neither should the cheapest cases of beer in the store. I don't care if we ARE talking Canadian dollars - it still ain't right.
2. Wind chill. This is what spawned the formation of this particular List - the winters in Toronto are nearly identical to those I left behind in northern Indiana, except for the wind chill. The wind chill is evil, and it needs to be stopped.
3. It's not delivery, it's DiGiorno, you hosers! NOT Delissio!
4. There is no #4, eh?
5. No VH1. Sure, MuchMusic pretty much consists entirely of recycled programming from VH1 and E!, but that doesn't help me when I want to watch the Flavor of Love finale with my friends back home. Not that I watch Flavor of Love...I mean...um...never mind. Also, all of my MTV shows are at least two weeks behind here. Not that I watch any of those either. What's MTV? Moving on...
6. No BBQ, no Chick-Fil-A, and no real Mexican food. Toronto in particular has loads of things going for it culinarily speaking, but is sorely lacking in these three areas. And before you Canadians reading this try to pipe in and say, "no, wait, I know a great Mexican place..." No, you don't. Trust me. You people don't know what good Mexican food is. It's not your fault, you just don't know any better. Same thing goes for real barbecue - I am more than willing to let you try to prove me wrong, but from what I've seen so far, I am appalled. I have stashed containers of leftovers in my suitcase and had the following conversation at customs:
"Do you have anything to declare? Carrying any alcohol, tobacco, or food items?"
"Just some cooked pork, sir."
I am willing to do it as many times as I must until the Canadian BBQ situation is rectified.
7. No real football. I've addressed this problem before, but feel it needs to be revisited. At this point, you've all either read or attempted to read my play-by-play of the Super Bowl. Responses to this entry have been as sharply divided as Britney Spears and sanity - and that split occurs precisely at the border. The Americans: "Awesome! Loved it!" The Canadians: "So, you...really like football, eh?" Sigh...they will never understand me here...
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Days of Whine and Roses
Look, I know I said I would be done whining by now but...well...I'm not. It's been a bad day as far as my overall outlook on life is concerned and I'm feeling a little overwhelmed, so pardon me while I get some of the little, insignificant crap out of my system:
1. Um, hi, eHarmony? Why exactly do you have me set an age range for my matches if you're just going to match me with someone 2 years outside of that range? I wasn't even entirely comfortable with the age range you recommended for me, but was willing to see how it went - why you gotta try to push me?
2. Um, hi, weather? I really appreciate you warming up and all, but an already busted tailbone + black ice = a far greater quantity of suck than one person should really have to deal with just to buy some milk and a box of KD. Frankly, winter in general? I'm done with you. I'm itching to go out and do springlike things, but you just won't let me yet.
3. Um, hi, tailbone? You can really start healing any time now. I'm trying to do my part by not taking any painkillers that would encourage me to do further damage to you, but you're making it very difficult to get any work done without them. C'mon...meet me halfway.
4. There is no #4.
5. Um, hi, CHM 139 administrative crap? Let's just say my bruises aren't the only pain in my ass right now.
6. Um, hi, whatever car company it is that is using "Hail to the Chief" in your ads? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, President's Day is over. MAKE IT STOP. I mean, come on...there's gotta be something in the Patriot Act about that shit.
Okay, I think that's it for the things that I can safely whine about here. My horoscope today said:
Normally, you are attracted to experiences that enrich your life. However, now you are more likely to act impulsively on your desires. This can create a complex situation that requires you to work out the details of an unfolding relationship. Stay aware of what other people need, but also be sure to pay attention to your own physical and mental health.
I don't know if eating an entire box of KD for dinner counts as "acting impulsively on my desires," and I certainly don't know how that could have complicated an unfolding relationship (do I even have any relationships unfolding right now?), but the part about physical and mental health is hitting pretty close to home today. I hope this isn't indicative of another span of my horoscopes being accurate - they always freak me out when they do that.
Okay, speaking of impulsively acting on desires, I'm off to make some cocoa.
1. Um, hi, eHarmony? Why exactly do you have me set an age range for my matches if you're just going to match me with someone 2 years outside of that range? I wasn't even entirely comfortable with the age range you recommended for me, but was willing to see how it went - why you gotta try to push me?
2. Um, hi, weather? I really appreciate you warming up and all, but an already busted tailbone + black ice = a far greater quantity of suck than one person should really have to deal with just to buy some milk and a box of KD. Frankly, winter in general? I'm done with you. I'm itching to go out and do springlike things, but you just won't let me yet.
3. Um, hi, tailbone? You can really start healing any time now. I'm trying to do my part by not taking any painkillers that would encourage me to do further damage to you, but you're making it very difficult to get any work done without them. C'mon...meet me halfway.
4. There is no #4.
5. Um, hi, CHM 139 administrative crap? Let's just say my bruises aren't the only pain in my ass right now.
6. Um, hi, whatever car company it is that is using "Hail to the Chief" in your ads? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, President's Day is over. MAKE IT STOP. I mean, come on...there's gotta be something in the Patriot Act about that shit.
Okay, I think that's it for the things that I can safely whine about here. My horoscope today said:
Normally, you are attracted to experiences that enrich your life. However, now you are more likely to act impulsively on your desires. This can create a complex situation that requires you to work out the details of an unfolding relationship. Stay aware of what other people need, but also be sure to pay attention to your own physical and mental health.
I don't know if eating an entire box of KD for dinner counts as "acting impulsively on my desires," and I certainly don't know how that could have complicated an unfolding relationship (do I even have any relationships unfolding right now?), but the part about physical and mental health is hitting pretty close to home today. I hope this isn't indicative of another span of my horoscopes being accurate - they always freak me out when they do that.
Okay, speaking of impulsively acting on desires, I'm off to make some cocoa.
Things That Make Me Die Inside
Um...seriously??? Why don't we just call it what it is - America's Next Top Talentless Skank. I mean, that doesn't even have so-bad-it's-good potential - it's just so-bad-it-should-NEVER-HAPPEN.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Laissez les bon temps rouler!
It's Mardi Gras! And if, like me, you spent the weekend generally immobile while subsisting on nothing but marked-down Valentine's chocolate and pizza because they are the only foods that are within arm's reach and/or come straight to your door, then it really is Fat Tuesday. But if you DIDN'T spend the weekend gaining 5 lbs. like me, then you've got approximately 60 minutes left in which to get thee some gumbo. Personally, I went out for Indian food - not sure if that's really the idea, but hey, it was spicy, and I'm not sure jambalaya exists in Canada anyway. Zydeco does, however, as I was quite surprised to learn today, so maybe there is hope for the Great White North after all. Let the good times roll (at least until midnight)!
I am a veritable font of useless information
Ten Top Trivia Tips about Wahooty!
- Wahooty is 984 feet tall!
- If you lie on your back with your legs stretched it is impossible to sink in Wahooty.
- Japan provides over thirty percent of the world's Wahooty supply.
- If you keep a goldfish in a dark room, it will eventually turn into Wahooty.
- The word 'samba' means 'to rub Wahooty'!
- New Zealand was the first place to allow Wahooty to vote.
- South Australia was the first place to allow Wahooty to stand for parliament!
- You can tell if Wahooty has been hard-boiled by spinning her. If she stands up, she is hard-boiled!
- It's bad luck to put Wahooty on a bed.
- Wahooty can taste with her feet.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
You know what sucks?
Trying to put sheets on your bed with an injured back. So far, it's taken me 10 minutes to make the bed, and I've only gotten through the fitted sheet and pillowcases. Am I the most pathetic thing ever, or what? Anyway, for those of you trying to keep up, I think I'm through the worst of it. My tailbone is feeling a tiny bit better, and while the knots in my back and shoulders didn't really show themselves until today, they're usually worst on the second day after the damage is done, so it should only get better from here on out. I've got a really long day ahead of me tomorrow, but after that, I should be ready to quit whining and begging for sympathy. :) Thank you for your attention - soon we will resume our regularly scheduled programming of whining and begging for sympathy for my idiotic neuroses rather than my idiotic injuries. :)
Saturday, February 17, 2007
It's times like these...
When I wish I had a good source of some quality painkillers. The only thing worse than giving oneself an idiotic, mobility-limiting injury is not having anybody around to fluff your pillows, bring you groceries, or cook you dinner while you're suffering. My apartment is a mess, my back is killing me, and I am not looking forward to bending over piles of laundry tomorrow. I want my mommy. Life sure looks bleak in between ibuprofen doses.
"Americans are forever searching for love in forms it never takes, in places it can never be....
...it must have something to do with the vanished frontier." - Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Yeah, so I saw the G-bomb guy again last night.
You know how sometimes you meet someone, and you find yourself thinking about them more and more, and you figure you've built the whole encounter up into something more than it is? Like, you must be projecting some sort of fantasy onto this person - you don't really know them well, so you fill in what you don't know with what you wish they were, and the sparks you keep thinking about are really just a figment of your overactive imagination. When you actually come face-to-face with that person again, you'll wonder what all the fuss was about, right?
Huh. Not so much.
Let's just call this guy Berger - if you've never watched Sex and the City, then you won't get that, but just go with it.
It sucks when you've managed to talk yourself down from the dangerous ledge that is a developing crush on a guy with a girlfriend, only to spend another evening being carried right back up to an even higher one. Because the thing is, I now know that it WASN'T just me - Berger enjoyed hanging out with me a lot. He told me so. He notices things about me...the jewelry I'm wearing...the way I look without my glasses on...really absorbs the things I say to him...if he were available, this would be about the time he would be asking me out. But he's not, so instead I'll go at least another couple of weeks without seeing or hearing from him - just long enough to convince myself I really don't like him that much after all - only to repeat the cycle all over again. And the fact of the matter is, I know I'll do just that. Because I can't obsess over or encourage myself to continue this crush, because it's just an exercise in futility. But I also can't just stop liking someone I click with because it's so rare that I run into a personality that strikes a good balance between complementing and challenging my own. Of course, if he really does turn out to be my Jack Berger, it's a blessing that he's taken, because he'll only end up dumping me via Post-It and honestly, who needs that? So here's how I'm feeling about the whole situation:
think i'm going for a walk now
i feel a little unsteady
i don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
i could make you happy you know
if you weren't already
i could do a lot of things
and i do
...
y'know, i don't look forward
to seeing you again soon
you'll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
and i won't know what to do
and i won't know what to say
-Ani DiFranco, "Untouchable Face"
Oh, and speaking of challenges, I now have it on the authority of not one, but TWO heterosexual men that the VGLM is, in fact, very good-looking. One said, and this is a direct quote, "you need to tap that. That is all." Of course, the problem there is that while he may be single, he's probably even more untouchable than Berger. I mean, people make it sound so easy - don't you think I WOULD have tapped that by now if it were possible? The VGLM is so out of my league it's not even funny. It's not like I can just walk up to any guy I want and say, "Hey...you...c'mere. You and me. Let's go." Some women can pull shit like that off - I am SO not one of them. And I'm having a hard time figuring out what "my league" is these days anyway. So...yeah. Maybe that eharmony thing will help me figure it out, because I'm feeling kinda lost here.
In other news, I fell down a flight of stairs last night, so think of me as I try to let my tailbone heal for a couple of days. If I sound a little extra mopey, it's because being confined to a chair with nothing but a heating pad and ice pack with which to amuse yourself does tend to break your spirit a bit. But at least I did meet some more really cool people last night, even if they do all think of me as the dumbass who fell down the stairs. But better to be infamous than not famous at all, right?
Yeah, so I saw the G-bomb guy again last night.
You know how sometimes you meet someone, and you find yourself thinking about them more and more, and you figure you've built the whole encounter up into something more than it is? Like, you must be projecting some sort of fantasy onto this person - you don't really know them well, so you fill in what you don't know with what you wish they were, and the sparks you keep thinking about are really just a figment of your overactive imagination. When you actually come face-to-face with that person again, you'll wonder what all the fuss was about, right?
Huh. Not so much.
Let's just call this guy Berger - if you've never watched Sex and the City, then you won't get that, but just go with it.
It sucks when you've managed to talk yourself down from the dangerous ledge that is a developing crush on a guy with a girlfriend, only to spend another evening being carried right back up to an even higher one. Because the thing is, I now know that it WASN'T just me - Berger enjoyed hanging out with me a lot. He told me so. He notices things about me...the jewelry I'm wearing...the way I look without my glasses on...really absorbs the things I say to him...if he were available, this would be about the time he would be asking me out. But he's not, so instead I'll go at least another couple of weeks without seeing or hearing from him - just long enough to convince myself I really don't like him that much after all - only to repeat the cycle all over again. And the fact of the matter is, I know I'll do just that. Because I can't obsess over or encourage myself to continue this crush, because it's just an exercise in futility. But I also can't just stop liking someone I click with because it's so rare that I run into a personality that strikes a good balance between complementing and challenging my own. Of course, if he really does turn out to be my Jack Berger, it's a blessing that he's taken, because he'll only end up dumping me via Post-It and honestly, who needs that? So here's how I'm feeling about the whole situation:
think i'm going for a walk now
i feel a little unsteady
i don't want nobody to follow me
'cept maybe you
i could make you happy you know
if you weren't already
i could do a lot of things
and i do
...
y'know, i don't look forward
to seeing you again soon
you'll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
and i won't know what to do
and i won't know what to say
-Ani DiFranco, "Untouchable Face"
Oh, and speaking of challenges, I now have it on the authority of not one, but TWO heterosexual men that the VGLM is, in fact, very good-looking. One said, and this is a direct quote, "you need to tap that. That is all." Of course, the problem there is that while he may be single, he's probably even more untouchable than Berger. I mean, people make it sound so easy - don't you think I WOULD have tapped that by now if it were possible? The VGLM is so out of my league it's not even funny. It's not like I can just walk up to any guy I want and say, "Hey...you...c'mere. You and me. Let's go." Some women can pull shit like that off - I am SO not one of them. And I'm having a hard time figuring out what "my league" is these days anyway. So...yeah. Maybe that eharmony thing will help me figure it out, because I'm feeling kinda lost here.
In other news, I fell down a flight of stairs last night, so think of me as I try to let my tailbone heal for a couple of days. If I sound a little extra mopey, it's because being confined to a chair with nothing but a heating pad and ice pack with which to amuse yourself does tend to break your spirit a bit. But at least I did meet some more really cool people last night, even if they do all think of me as the dumbass who fell down the stairs. But better to be infamous than not famous at all, right?
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Thursday Tidbits
A handful of things I need to comment on this evening:
1. I just dropped $15 on marked-down assorted chocolates in red foil and/or heart shapes. And something called Tandoori Sizzler! Doritos. You can really taste that exclamation point.
2. I had my first Dim Sum experience today. This is v. exciting - as I think everyone reading this knows, I'm a bit of a foodie who spent seven years trapped in northern Indiana, where the selection of good ethnic eats is...shall we say...a wee bit lacking. And while I was raised by foodie parents, they are cheap foodie parents and eating out is not something we did except on exceedingly rare occasions while I was growing up. So I've had to develop most of my tastes via meals prepared by my parents or myself at home. Now, we are collectively quite a culinary force to be reckoned with, but dim sum is a decidedly "out" experience - you can't really do it at home, because the whole point is to watch the carts going by and pick out the things that look good. Plus, it helps to go with actual Chinese people who can tell you exactly what everything is so you can choose wisely. I'm a big fan of any food experience where the food comes to you in small amounts so you can get a little bit of everything to share with the group. This is why I am very sad that the tapas trend ended before I moved somewhere trendy enough to have a tapas bar. You may logically conclude from this that I also love buffets - this is where you would be wrong. You'll notice I specified that the food a) comes to you and b) in SMALL amounts. This is why the buffet concept does not work for me - I take too much food, and end up feeling sick and stuffed, overwhelming the pleasures of sampling diversity. Plus, I rarely find food on buffets that is as piping hot and fresh as the delightful little plates of dumplings and buns that wander by in dim sum. So yeah, I'm officially a fan. And I have to thank my new Chinese labmates for taking me, even though it does make me increasingly bitter towards my old Chinese labmates at Purdue who always made us go to greasy, flavorless Chinese buffets because they "can never find anything good to eat at American restaurants." It's so nice to have easy access to REAL Chinese food. And a big kung hei fatt choi to you all.
3. Reasons Ugly Betty is effing awesome: a) "Make it work." b) a decidedly Lost-esque sequence c) a decidedly My Name is Earl-esque sequence d) a decidedly Project Runway-esque sequence e) Henry e) Justin performing the entire score of Hairspray on the subway f) Henry and Betty FINALLY...WAIT...WHAT THE HELL??? HOW DARE YOU!!!! g) Lucy Liu h) Jerry O'Connell (wait...seriously? Can someone tell me how exactly THAT ends up with Rebecca Romijn???) i) whatever the song is playing over the final sequence.
4. There is no #4.
5. Dear Grey's Anatomy: Please stop this story arc. You're obviously trying to create a plotline that will evoke the drama and intensity of 9/11. I normally enjoy the outlandish melodrama, but only because it is outlandish. You are trying to stir up feelings that are all too real and fresh in the memory of the American people and introduce silly melodrama into that emotional framework. It is exploitative, and it needs to stop. I can't believe we still have another episode and a half of this crap.
6. Oh, and I am now officially a member of eharmony.com. In all honesty, I'm not optimistic, but hey, they were running a Valentine's special, so what the hell. I'll keep you all posted - it should at least make for some interesting blogging material, and I'm about due for a reminder that no date at all is better than a bad one.
1. I just dropped $15 on marked-down assorted chocolates in red foil and/or heart shapes. And something called Tandoori Sizzler! Doritos. You can really taste that exclamation point.
2. I had my first Dim Sum experience today. This is v. exciting - as I think everyone reading this knows, I'm a bit of a foodie who spent seven years trapped in northern Indiana, where the selection of good ethnic eats is...shall we say...a wee bit lacking. And while I was raised by foodie parents, they are cheap foodie parents and eating out is not something we did except on exceedingly rare occasions while I was growing up. So I've had to develop most of my tastes via meals prepared by my parents or myself at home. Now, we are collectively quite a culinary force to be reckoned with, but dim sum is a decidedly "out" experience - you can't really do it at home, because the whole point is to watch the carts going by and pick out the things that look good. Plus, it helps to go with actual Chinese people who can tell you exactly what everything is so you can choose wisely. I'm a big fan of any food experience where the food comes to you in small amounts so you can get a little bit of everything to share with the group. This is why I am very sad that the tapas trend ended before I moved somewhere trendy enough to have a tapas bar. You may logically conclude from this that I also love buffets - this is where you would be wrong. You'll notice I specified that the food a) comes to you and b) in SMALL amounts. This is why the buffet concept does not work for me - I take too much food, and end up feeling sick and stuffed, overwhelming the pleasures of sampling diversity. Plus, I rarely find food on buffets that is as piping hot and fresh as the delightful little plates of dumplings and buns that wander by in dim sum. So yeah, I'm officially a fan. And I have to thank my new Chinese labmates for taking me, even though it does make me increasingly bitter towards my old Chinese labmates at Purdue who always made us go to greasy, flavorless Chinese buffets because they "can never find anything good to eat at American restaurants." It's so nice to have easy access to REAL Chinese food. And a big kung hei fatt choi to you all.
3. Reasons Ugly Betty is effing awesome: a) "Make it work." b) a decidedly Lost-esque sequence c) a decidedly My Name is Earl-esque sequence d) a decidedly Project Runway-esque sequence e) Henry
4. There is no #4.
5. Dear Grey's Anatomy: Please stop this story arc. You're obviously trying to create a plotline that will evoke the drama and intensity of 9/11. I normally enjoy the outlandish melodrama, but only because it is outlandish. You are trying to stir up feelings that are all too real and fresh in the memory of the American people and introduce silly melodrama into that emotional framework. It is exploitative, and it needs to stop. I can't believe we still have another episode and a half of this crap.
6. Oh, and I am now officially a member of eharmony.com. In all honesty, I'm not optimistic, but hey, they were running a Valentine's special, so what the hell. I'll keep you all posted - it should at least make for some interesting blogging material, and I'm about due for a reminder that no date at all is better than a bad one.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
When arrows don't penetrate... Cupid grabs the pistol
Happy...eh, whatever. Sorry, folks, I just don't have it in me. Don't get me wrong - I think all of those "Valentine's day is a greeting card holiday" people are kidding themselves. Yeah, it IS a greeting card holiday...it IS pretty meaningless in the grand scheme of things...but no matter how cynical you are, you can't help but take stock of your romantic life on February 14th. It's kinda like New Year's that way - somewhere there's an unwritten law that says you have to feel lonely if you don't have someone, and be madly in love if you do. The problem is, most people I know don't have great Valentine's Days. Most of the time, I'm not with anyone on V-Day, and when I am, I find I have less than stellar celebrations for this holiest of crap holidays. You're either emotionally checked out of a relationship but don't have the heart to break up with them right around Valentine's, or you're involved in a relationship where the OTHER party is checked out. Even when I've been dating someone I was really into (and vice versa), it seems there's always some reason that a great romantic evening just doesn't happen. It's one of those things (again, not unlike New Year's) where you have such high expectations that really can't ever be lived up to. That being said, I've spent a lot more Valentine's Days alone than I have with anyone, checked out or not. And being a single girl of a certain age, I have resigned myself to certain rituals because they simply cannot be avoided:
1. Watch some sort of romantic movie
2. Drink copious amounts of wine
3. Buy heart-shaped box of chocolates on clearance
4. Wallow
5. Repeat as needed
6. (optional) Buy self flowers because dammit, they're pretty
Now this year I was smart and did (1) and (2) early - over the weekend. The movie of choice this year: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The wine: the cheap sauv blanc I alluded to in my previous entry. Usually I do the truly masochistic thing of a Before Sunrise/Before Sunset double-header, but I think I've hit on something with Eternal Sunshine. First of all, the movie takes place on Valentine's Day - that has to count for something. It always makes me cry, but doesn't leave me depressed. This is important. The problem with the BS/BS-DH is that it makes me yearn. Those movies appeal to my idealistic, sappy, hopeless romantic side, and make me long for that kind of ridiculous, passionate, imperfect and yet somehow ideal romantic connection - the sort of thing I mock ceaselessly when reality show contestants talk about it. Eternal Sunshine, on the other hand, is about what love really is - again, ridiculous, imperfect, and passionate - and usually finite. I often say that a person's greatest strength is often closely intertwined with their greatest weakness - that which we most pride ourselves on is often a clue to what we are most insecure about, and similarly, that which we love and find adorable in another person at first, we eventually resent and find irritating. Love, and relationships, need to be dynamic to survive. In my personal experience, I know I'm really in love when someone can thoroughly irritate me and yet I still think to myself, "I love this person" - the interactions change... some degrade while others strengthen... your very definition of what it is to love someone changes... and whether the relationship lasts or doesn't, you learn something just by feeling. Even when it doesn't work out - even if you KNOW it's not going to work out - loving someone is still worth doing. It may sound trite, but that's comforting to me. My Magic 8-Ball may have lied to me (it said I would go out on a date by Valentine's Day, and I've got approximately...40 minutes to go and am thinking it's a bust) but maybe someday soon I'll find someone brave enough to say, "Okay." In the meantime, I offer you, my humble readers, a wee Valentine:
There. Now you can tell your friends you got flowers for Valentine's Day.
1. Watch some sort of romantic movie
2. Drink copious amounts of wine
3. Buy heart-shaped box of chocolates on clearance
4. Wallow
5. Repeat as needed
6. (optional) Buy self flowers because dammit, they're pretty
Now this year I was smart and did (1) and (2) early - over the weekend. The movie of choice this year: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The wine: the cheap sauv blanc I alluded to in my previous entry. Usually I do the truly masochistic thing of a Before Sunrise/Before Sunset double-header, but I think I've hit on something with Eternal Sunshine. First of all, the movie takes place on Valentine's Day - that has to count for something. It always makes me cry, but doesn't leave me depressed. This is important. The problem with the BS/BS-DH is that it makes me yearn. Those movies appeal to my idealistic, sappy, hopeless romantic side, and make me long for that kind of ridiculous, passionate, imperfect and yet somehow ideal romantic connection - the sort of thing I mock ceaselessly when reality show contestants talk about it. Eternal Sunshine, on the other hand, is about what love really is - again, ridiculous, imperfect, and passionate - and usually finite. I often say that a person's greatest strength is often closely intertwined with their greatest weakness - that which we most pride ourselves on is often a clue to what we are most insecure about, and similarly, that which we love and find adorable in another person at first, we eventually resent and find irritating. Love, and relationships, need to be dynamic to survive. In my personal experience, I know I'm really in love when someone can thoroughly irritate me and yet I still think to myself, "I love this person" - the interactions change... some degrade while others strengthen... your very definition of what it is to love someone changes... and whether the relationship lasts or doesn't, you learn something just by feeling. Even when it doesn't work out - even if you KNOW it's not going to work out - loving someone is still worth doing. It may sound trite, but that's comforting to me. My Magic 8-Ball may have lied to me (it said I would go out on a date by Valentine's Day, and I've got approximately...40 minutes to go and am thinking it's a bust) but maybe someday soon I'll find someone brave enough to say, "Okay." In the meantime, I offer you, my humble readers, a wee Valentine:
There. Now you can tell your friends you got flowers for Valentine's Day.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Serving Suggestion
I just had to share my menu for this evening:
Mojo shrimp, served over a napa cabbage and red pepper slaw, dressed in a lime/cumin/cilantro vinaigrette. Accompanied by a cheap but quite enjoyable Chilean sauvignon blanc.
Simple, but INCREDIBLY tasty.
DAMN I'm good.
Mojo shrimp, served over a napa cabbage and red pepper slaw, dressed in a lime/cumin/cilantro vinaigrette. Accompanied by a cheap but quite enjoyable Chilean sauvignon blanc.
Simple, but INCREDIBLY tasty.
DAMN I'm good.
When you are lonely, let it shine on...
The sun is out!!!Or...at least it was.
Seriously - I needed my sunglasses when I walked to the grocery store this morning. I had forgotten how bright the world can be when the sun is shining brightly and the ground is covered in snow. And it's a balmy -6 outside - spring has sprung!!!!
Okay...maybe not. But seasons are in the eye of the beholder, right? And compared to a week ago, it feels freaking fantastic outside. Plus, I've been looking for an excuse to post my sunflower picture, because, while there are many technical things I don't like about it, I still think the flower is awfully pretty, and I haven't posted a photo in a while. So, with that, I shall resume my busy schedule of what the squirrel I saw this morning doesn't have the good sense to do - hibernation.
P.S. - hazelnut and french vanilla coffee + a little half and half + a scoop of hot cocoa mix = mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Play-by-play
Okay, in lieu of having proper fans to watch the game with me, I have decided to live-blog it. However, since I seriously doubt anyone will be reading this live, I will break with the typical live-blog format and write my latest entries at the bottom, thereby eliminating the need to scroll to the bottom and read in reverse order. To those of you sensitive to such things, I feel the need to warn you that there will be copious amounts of foul language involved. I can't help it...it's football, and my team is the underdog so I am preparing for the worst.
5:55 pm: Tuning in to the end of the preshow. Am seriously freaked out by presence of freaky harlequin cheerleaders. Am not sure whether or not to be freaked out by the marching band dressed as actual Chicago Bears - pads and helmets and all. My head says yes, but my heart says no, oh dear God no.
5:56 pm: Aforementioned Window Cooler Plan (WCP) has been abandoned due to inability to open said window. Not sure if swelling of window frame due to condensation or aforementioned Ass-Coldness of outdoors is to blame. Have substituted with Big-Assed Beer Mug Plan (BABMP), involving ceramic beer mug hand-crafted by my very creative but possibly slightly alcoholic brother. Mug is large enough that should it be necessary, it can hold two complete beers. Beer of choice is Laker Red, my current favorite Cheap-Ass Canadian Beer (CACB)...bourbon is Evan Williams Single Barrel (to make up for aforementioned CACB)...shot glass of choice is my prized Amish Country shot glass, because I do so love glassware with a sense of irony.
6:01 pm: Super Bowl commercial about significance of getting to the Super Bowl is about to make me cry. I mean honestly...how much must it SUCK to be the older brother to Peyton AND Eli Manning???? And digging up old high school geometry teachers is just too much. HOO-RAH!!!
6:03 pm: DAMN my chili and bread smell good. Can't believe I have to wait an hour before I can eat them.
6:10 pm: You know, in a straight up head-to-head mascot battle, the Bears have it hands-down. I mean, a colt can be wild, it's got a good kick, but a Bear? He's got big fuckin' fangs, and big fuckin' teeth. He's not looking at those big fuckin' fangs and big fuckin' teeth and thinking, "How am I gonna do it? How am I gonna kill the colt?" One swipe to the jugular vein and it's goodbye, horsey boy.
6:19 pm: Billy Joel just sang the national anthem. Now I have to give him props for an understated and classy rendition, but in the words of Randy and Paula on American Idol, it was a little pitchy. Anyone who doesn't believe me when I say that our national anthem is really FREAKING hard to sing, I submit this as Exhibit A. But thank you, Piano Man, for not embellishing it beyond recognition like everyone else seems to.
6:27 pm: OH HOLY SHIT!!! Now THAT'S how you start a football game!!!!
6:32 pm: They just commented on how the crowd is definitely favoring Chicago - this is my primary problem with the Colts. Indiana is NOT a football state - the fans are just too fickle. It's easy to be a fan when your team is doing well, but that's not truly supporting the home team. Back in the day when the Colts sucked ass for so many years, nobody was a Colts fan. Bears fans are real fans - they are devoted and loyal, no matter how badly their team sucks, and they follow their team when they're doing well and going somewhere big.
6:37 pm: Kickoffs returned for TD: 1
Interceptions: 1
GO BEARS!!!
6:47 pm: Peyton Manning, why you gotta break my heart? Smith, thank you for dropping the snap on the extra point. That, my friend, is what they call closure.
6:51 pm: Hagler, you sonofabitch. Who greased the ball??? WHOA!!! HELLZ YEAH! Whoever greased the ball, THANK YOU!!!
6:55 pm: My GOD I love this game!!!
7:02 pm: Watching the Colts offense, I am left with one question: Why so many Mannings?
7:04 pm: SONOFABITCH.
7:10 pm: Still not out of the 1st quarter, but am already getting seriously pissed off at the clearly pro-Colt commentators.
7:14 pm: In a lame act of cross-promotion for a lame new sitcom, they cut to the cast members in the stands. WOW does David Spade look wasted.
7:34 pm: Me + Peyton Manning = the love that dare not speak its name.
7:35 pm: Shit! ShitshitSHIT!
7:38 pm: Seriously...commentators...if you love Indianapolis so much, why don't you MARRY them???
7:40 pm: I have to say, after all of the promos, if Prince does NOT play "Let's Get Crazy" during his halftime show, I will be SORELY disappointed.
7:44 pm: I'm sure this is just the first of many times this will be said, but I want Brian Urlacher to have my babies.
7:47 pm: I LOVE commercials made in the States for a Canadian audience...A Bud commercial just featured a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from...The University of Canada. Because ya know, we only have one. Myself, I did my undergrad at the University of the United States, and hope to one day teach at the University of England.
7:51 pm: Aw, Grossman, why you gotta break my heart?
7:54 pm: Seriously, Urlacher, marry me.
7:56 pm: For the love of God, Colts, PLEASE stop trying to kick the ball. You're just embarrassing yourselves.
7:58 pm: It is now halftime, and I am pleased to report that my legs appear to have returned to room temperature.
8:06 pm: Prince appears to be wearing a kerchief, but he IS singing "Let's Get Crazy."
8:08 pm: Seriously...when did Prince turn into Aunt Jemima with a guitar? Oh how I long for the days of the assless pants.
8:10 pm: WHOA. Now he's apparently Ike Turner. Or is he Tina? Seriously, the kerchief is throwing me way off.
8:11 pm: As is the glow-in-the-dark marching band.
8:14 pm: "Purple Rain." Can't believe I didn't see THAT one coming. But that guitar is...interesting. Are you sure that shadow in profile is kosher in a post-Janet Jackson era? Because...wow. Is that a non-gender-specific symbol in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me? Let's just say that made up for you not playing any of your dirty songs. I salute you, Prince, and your..er...guitar.
8:17 pm: Eh...shoulda stuck with the kerchief, Prince Jemima.
8:28 pm: The score really doesn't show it, but my beloved Bears are clearly being outplayed. Grossman may have fewer interceptions than Manning, but it's hard to throw interceptions when you NEVER TOUCH THE DAMNED BALL.
8:33 pm: Seriously, boys, why don't you just curl up in the fetal position and suck your thumbs? It would be just as effective.
8:46 pm: No. I'm sorry. It is not a sack when the quarterback SLIPS AND FALLS ON HIS FACE.
8:47 pm: TWICE.
8:48 pm: Grand & Toy, PLEASE stop trying to take credit for the 1st-down line. That is an AMERICAN innovation, and you, my friend, do not exist south of the border.
9:01 pm: 1ST DOWN!!! WOOHOO!!! Can we say lowered expectations?
9:04 pm: BEAUTIFUL kick, Gould! You are spared the wrath of Beth.
9:20 pm: sonofaBITCH. We finally get a decent run in, and it's called back with a 10-yard penalty.
9:21 pm: Okay, Grand & Toy, where the hell was the fucking first-down line???
9:22 pm: GROSSMAN, YOU SUCK!!!! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING????
9:26 pm: Guys, now would be a good time to remember how to play football. Just a thought.
9:31 pm: OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.
9:36 pm: NOW THAT'S HOW YOU SACK LIKE A MAN. Peyton...you've got some grass on your helmet there...
9:58 pm: Well, that's it. Not a bad drive at the end there, boys, but it was far too little, far too late. Once again, it comes down to the fact that the Bears have a great defense, but while you can lose a game with bad defense, you can't win a game without an offense. I have to say, though, if my boys had to lose, I'm glad it was to guys like Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning - they're good guys, and they deserve it. But seriously, Urlacher - call me.
A few parting thoughts:
1. Things I have learned about Canadian men, courtesy of Budweiser, USA: a) they are all talented woodworkers, b) they surf in winter, c) they use their BFA degrees from the University of Canada to become tattoo artists, and d) they all have some form of scruffy facial hair (this one is actually not far off the mark, at least in winter).
2. In the Canadian feed of the game, Primus Telecommunications digitally superimposes a fake blimp onto shots of whatever real blimp is filming the game. First I have to give up the good commercials, do you really have to kick me while I'm down by subjecting me to a blimp in drag???
3. Yes, you read that right. I didn't get ANY of the good commercials this year, because Canadian TV is stupid. Thank God for YouTube.
4. At least my dinner was awesome.
And now I begin the long, cold 6 1/2 months without football...(sniff)....
5:55 pm: Tuning in to the end of the preshow. Am seriously freaked out by presence of freaky harlequin cheerleaders. Am not sure whether or not to be freaked out by the marching band dressed as actual Chicago Bears - pads and helmets and all. My head says yes, but my heart says no, oh dear God no.
5:56 pm: Aforementioned Window Cooler Plan (WCP) has been abandoned due to inability to open said window. Not sure if swelling of window frame due to condensation or aforementioned Ass-Coldness of outdoors is to blame. Have substituted with Big-Assed Beer Mug Plan (BABMP), involving ceramic beer mug hand-crafted by my very creative but possibly slightly alcoholic brother. Mug is large enough that should it be necessary, it can hold two complete beers. Beer of choice is Laker Red, my current favorite Cheap-Ass Canadian Beer (CACB)...bourbon is Evan Williams Single Barrel (to make up for aforementioned CACB)...shot glass of choice is my prized Amish Country shot glass, because I do so love glassware with a sense of irony.
6:01 pm: Super Bowl commercial about significance of getting to the Super Bowl is about to make me cry. I mean honestly...how much must it SUCK to be the older brother to Peyton AND Eli Manning???? And digging up old high school geometry teachers is just too much. HOO-RAH!!!
6:03 pm: DAMN my chili and bread smell good. Can't believe I have to wait an hour before I can eat them.
6:10 pm: You know, in a straight up head-to-head mascot battle, the Bears have it hands-down. I mean, a colt can be wild, it's got a good kick, but a Bear? He's got big fuckin' fangs, and big fuckin' teeth. He's not looking at those big fuckin' fangs and big fuckin' teeth and thinking, "How am I gonna do it? How am I gonna kill the colt?" One swipe to the jugular vein and it's goodbye, horsey boy.
6:19 pm: Billy Joel just sang the national anthem. Now I have to give him props for an understated and classy rendition, but in the words of Randy and Paula on American Idol, it was a little pitchy. Anyone who doesn't believe me when I say that our national anthem is really FREAKING hard to sing, I submit this as Exhibit A. But thank you, Piano Man, for not embellishing it beyond recognition like everyone else seems to.
6:27 pm: OH HOLY SHIT!!! Now THAT'S how you start a football game!!!!
6:32 pm: They just commented on how the crowd is definitely favoring Chicago - this is my primary problem with the Colts. Indiana is NOT a football state - the fans are just too fickle. It's easy to be a fan when your team is doing well, but that's not truly supporting the home team. Back in the day when the Colts sucked ass for so many years, nobody was a Colts fan. Bears fans are real fans - they are devoted and loyal, no matter how badly their team sucks, and they follow their team when they're doing well and going somewhere big.
6:37 pm: Kickoffs returned for TD: 1
Interceptions: 1
GO BEARS!!!
6:47 pm: Peyton Manning, why you gotta break my heart? Smith, thank you for dropping the snap on the extra point. That, my friend, is what they call closure.
6:51 pm: Hagler, you sonofabitch. Who greased the ball??? WHOA!!! HELLZ YEAH! Whoever greased the ball, THANK YOU!!!
6:55 pm: My GOD I love this game!!!
7:02 pm: Watching the Colts offense, I am left with one question: Why so many Mannings?
7:04 pm: SONOFABITCH.
7:10 pm: Still not out of the 1st quarter, but am already getting seriously pissed off at the clearly pro-Colt commentators.
7:14 pm: In a lame act of cross-promotion for a lame new sitcom, they cut to the cast members in the stands. WOW does David Spade look wasted.
7:34 pm: Me + Peyton Manning = the love that dare not speak its name.
7:35 pm: Shit! ShitshitSHIT!
7:38 pm: Seriously...commentators...if you love Indianapolis so much, why don't you MARRY them???
7:40 pm: I have to say, after all of the promos, if Prince does NOT play "Let's Get Crazy" during his halftime show, I will be SORELY disappointed.
7:44 pm: I'm sure this is just the first of many times this will be said, but I want Brian Urlacher to have my babies.
7:47 pm: I LOVE commercials made in the States for a Canadian audience...A Bud commercial just featured a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from...The University of Canada. Because ya know, we only have one. Myself, I did my undergrad at the University of the United States, and hope to one day teach at the University of England.
7:51 pm: Aw, Grossman, why you gotta break my heart?
7:54 pm: Seriously, Urlacher, marry me.
7:56 pm: For the love of God, Colts, PLEASE stop trying to kick the ball. You're just embarrassing yourselves.
7:58 pm: It is now halftime, and I am pleased to report that my legs appear to have returned to room temperature.
8:06 pm: Prince appears to be wearing a kerchief, but he IS singing "Let's Get Crazy."
8:08 pm: Seriously...when did Prince turn into Aunt Jemima with a guitar? Oh how I long for the days of the assless pants.
8:10 pm: WHOA. Now he's apparently Ike Turner. Or is he Tina? Seriously, the kerchief is throwing me way off.
8:11 pm: As is the glow-in-the-dark marching band.
8:14 pm: "Purple Rain." Can't believe I didn't see THAT one coming. But that guitar is...interesting. Are you sure that shadow in profile is kosher in a post-Janet Jackson era? Because...wow. Is that a non-gender-specific symbol in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me? Let's just say that made up for you not playing any of your dirty songs. I salute you, Prince, and your..er...guitar.
8:17 pm: Eh...shoulda stuck with the kerchief, Prince Jemima.
8:28 pm: The score really doesn't show it, but my beloved Bears are clearly being outplayed. Grossman may have fewer interceptions than Manning, but it's hard to throw interceptions when you NEVER TOUCH THE DAMNED BALL.
8:33 pm: Seriously, boys, why don't you just curl up in the fetal position and suck your thumbs? It would be just as effective.
8:46 pm: No. I'm sorry. It is not a sack when the quarterback SLIPS AND FALLS ON HIS FACE.
8:47 pm: TWICE.
8:48 pm: Grand & Toy, PLEASE stop trying to take credit for the 1st-down line. That is an AMERICAN innovation, and you, my friend, do not exist south of the border.
9:01 pm: 1ST DOWN!!! WOOHOO!!! Can we say lowered expectations?
9:04 pm: BEAUTIFUL kick, Gould! You are spared the wrath of Beth.
9:20 pm: sonofaBITCH. We finally get a decent run in, and it's called back with a 10-yard penalty.
9:21 pm: Okay, Grand & Toy, where the hell was the fucking first-down line???
9:22 pm: GROSSMAN, YOU SUCK!!!! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING????
9:26 pm: Guys, now would be a good time to remember how to play football. Just a thought.
9:31 pm: OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.
9:36 pm: NOW THAT'S HOW YOU SACK LIKE A MAN. Peyton...you've got some grass on your helmet there...
9:58 pm: Well, that's it. Not a bad drive at the end there, boys, but it was far too little, far too late. Once again, it comes down to the fact that the Bears have a great defense, but while you can lose a game with bad defense, you can't win a game without an offense. I have to say, though, if my boys had to lose, I'm glad it was to guys like Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning - they're good guys, and they deserve it. But seriously, Urlacher - call me.
A few parting thoughts:
1. Things I have learned about Canadian men, courtesy of Budweiser, USA: a) they are all talented woodworkers, b) they surf in winter, c) they use their BFA degrees from the University of Canada to become tattoo artists, and d) they all have some form of scruffy facial hair (this one is actually not far off the mark, at least in winter).
2. In the Canadian feed of the game, Primus Telecommunications digitally superimposes a fake blimp onto shots of whatever real blimp is filming the game. First I have to give up the good commercials, do you really have to kick me while I'm down by subjecting me to a blimp in drag???
3. Yes, you read that right. I didn't get ANY of the good commercials this year, because Canadian TV is stupid. Thank God for YouTube.
4. At least my dinner was awesome.
And now I begin the long, cold 6 1/2 months without football...
The Superbowl Shuffle
You're not a true football fan until you've made a beer run on foot when the wind chill is about -30. For those of you back home who think in Fahrenheit, not Celsius, you should know that -30 is about where the two scales coincide. In other words, REALLY FUCKIN' COLD. I expect to regain sensation in my legs in just a few short months. Now, this should help you understand why I will be watching the game by myself at home this evening. I had discussed getting together with a friend of mine, and he had hinted that he might have a wee party at his place or at least go out somewhere to watch it on a big screen. Every time I saw him last week, he said, "what are we doing for the Super Bowl?" To which I replied, "you tell me...it's your shindig." Needless to say, plans were never made, so I went back to my original plan of making chili and having plenty of beer on hand to take my mind off of the fact that the Canadian feed doesn't get any of the good commercials. Now, this morning, I get an IM from said friend, asking if I want to come over - he's putting together a last-minute gathering. I tell him I'm making chili. He says, "want to bring it over?" Now, as much as I enjoy a last-minute invitation to feed you and a bunch of your friends I don't even know, and as much as I look forward to hauling POTS OF HOT CHILI on the bus and subway, I think I'll pass. My official excuse was an abundance of work that needed to be done around the house and the need to plan ahead if I'm going to make an hour-long trip downtown on the weekend - both things that are, in fact, true. However, the real reason I wasn't tempted to go is that CANADIANS DON'T GET FOOTBALL. They were talking about PLAYING POKER DURING THE GAME. Oh, how I wish I was making that up. How would you like it if I invited you to my house to watch hockey and practiced my clogging through the whole damned thing???? You don't NEED to pass the time during a football game - let alone the Super Bowl. This is why coolers were invented - to reduce screen time lost in fetching another beer. Personally, I will be stashing my supply in my ass-cold window - on a day like today, it ensures an ice-cold beer without actually having to turn my back on the tv. This is also why chili is the ultimate football food - the pot can be abandoned on the stove and the food inside only. gets. better. I mean, yeah, any sporting event is better watched with other people, but not if those people don't get HOW VITAL THE EVENT IS TO OUR LIVELIHOOD...OUR NATIONAL SECURITY...NAY, LIFE ITSELF!!! Ahem. I don't normally get this worked up over the Super Bowl, but this year is different...this year is special. I am usually hard-pressed to pick a team to root for - my top teams never make it these days (we won't even mention how long it's been since my beloved Redskins made it to the big game) and while I can usually get behind an underdog or go with NFC loyalty, I can't get all that engaged in the outcome. However, this year, it's a matchup of my #2 and #3 teams - technically, I can be happy whichever way the game goes. I mean, I was raised in an Illinois household that just happened to be located in northern Virginia, but I lived in Indiana for 7 years, during the rise of Peyton Manning and the dawn of the era that shall forever be known as the Definite Lack of Suck Age for the Colts. So I not only have someone to root for, but I am rooting for that holy grail of football: the Really Good Game. And that, my friends, is why I cannot stomach the idea of watching it with a bunch of CANADIANS PLAYING POKER. Although that would make an AWESOME painting to hang in my rumpus room someday. Go Bears!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Now that I've met you, would you object to never seeing each other again?
Do you ever get the feeling that people think they know you, but they really have no idea who you are? I think it's part of the overall Human Experience - if everybody knows exactly who you are when they meet you, then what's the point of all of the interaction, conversation, and assorted fun stuff that comes later? But in my case, it's really been a long-term state of being. There are a precious few people in this world that truly Know me...and I'm starting to get sick of those who think they are part of that group but couldn't be more wrong. Here's a clue - if you've never pissed me off, you don't know me. Because I don't adore people unconditionally - you can screw up, and I will love you, but I will let you know. Now, I'm also passive-agressive as hell - I won't necessarily say that you've screwed up, but you'll know...or at least I like to think that you will. This is one of those things I am still working on in myself as far as how to properly and maturely deal with conflict, but I know that I love someone truly when they can piss me off and I still love them. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, that's the difference between "love" and "like." If I just like you, there's a good chance that if you piss me off, I'm done. It's not worth getting over. But if I love you, you can pretty much piss me off with impunity - I'll let you get away with murder as long as we patch things up after every instance. All I ask of you is the same treatment in return, and we'll be fine. I'm sure I can be infuriating - I've just never had anyone around me that managed to figure out how to call me on it without being a bully about it.
This brings me to a particular observation: I've been told that I am "probably intimdating" when I meet new people. This was an opposite-sex-specific reference, but I tend to think it applies both to relationships and friendships - I've been told for at least a decade by various people I adore that they were intimidated by me when they first met me. This makes no sense to me - I spent most of my life feeling like a painfully shy outcast. When I went to college, I was lucky enough to find a niche, where I felt comfortable and safe. But, every time new people try to join that niche, I'm naturally paranoid that they're going to upset the delicate balance of happy. It doesn't mean that I don't want to make new friends, but I've been screwed over enough times to know that friendship isn't easy - it takes time to trust someone and let them be a real part of your life. I'm not the kind of person who walks into a room full of people and has 5 new best friends - that's just not how I operate. But when I ask what might make me intimidating, the answer was something along the lines of, "well...I don't know...you're all Dr. Beth and stuff..." Okay, look. It's not like my opening line is "Hi, my name is Beth, but you can call me Dr. Miller." I know that when men are listing the qualities they find hot in a woman, a Ph.D. is not high on the list. The fact of the matter is, if people find me scary when they meet me, I guarantee it's because they're scared of the facade I put up to mask my insecurity and shyness. Hands down - no question. Because it's easier to appear aloof than to be judged for who we really are. We all do it to varying degrees - anyone who says differently is selling something. But whatever your impression of me the first time you meet me, I would stake big money big money no whammies STOP that it was a pale shadow of the real me. For better or worse, you. do. not. know. me. So please, stop acting like you do. Believe me, I'll let you know when you're getting close.
This brings me to a particular observation: I've been told that I am "probably intimdating" when I meet new people. This was an opposite-sex-specific reference, but I tend to think it applies both to relationships and friendships - I've been told for at least a decade by various people I adore that they were intimidated by me when they first met me. This makes no sense to me - I spent most of my life feeling like a painfully shy outcast. When I went to college, I was lucky enough to find a niche, where I felt comfortable and safe. But, every time new people try to join that niche, I'm naturally paranoid that they're going to upset the delicate balance of happy. It doesn't mean that I don't want to make new friends, but I've been screwed over enough times to know that friendship isn't easy - it takes time to trust someone and let them be a real part of your life. I'm not the kind of person who walks into a room full of people and has 5 new best friends - that's just not how I operate. But when I ask what might make me intimidating, the answer was something along the lines of, "well...I don't know...you're all Dr. Beth and stuff..." Okay, look. It's not like my opening line is "Hi, my name is Beth, but you can call me Dr. Miller." I know that when men are listing the qualities they find hot in a woman, a Ph.D. is not high on the list. The fact of the matter is, if people find me scary when they meet me, I guarantee it's because they're scared of the facade I put up to mask my insecurity and shyness. Hands down - no question. Because it's easier to appear aloof than to be judged for who we really are. We all do it to varying degrees - anyone who says differently is selling something. But whatever your impression of me the first time you meet me, I would stake big money big money no whammies STOP that it was a pale shadow of the real me. For better or worse, you. do. not. know. me. So please, stop acting like you do. Believe me, I'll let you know when you're getting close.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Things That Make Canada Funny, eh?
1. The girl on the bus who was drinking chocolate milk out of a carton while furiously studying the back of a package of nail color dilutor. My primary question being this: why didn't she drink the whole carton at once? She closed it, then reopened it a few stops later. Chocolate milk is not something that requires pacing oneself - it is a binge item. It's not like it was a gallon - we're talking a pint carton here, people. Much like nail color...does one really need to dilute it so one doesn't overdo the color ecstasy? Maybe she is just a poster child for moderation - Canadians do seem to believe in it in more ways than one. My other question is, why was it nail color dilutor, not nail coloUr dilutor? This is Canada babe...if you don't like it, take your filthy cosmetics to the States, bitch!
2. On the same bus, I swear I heard (and I am not making this up) the phrase, "I SO want to be a gym teacher." Dude. Nobody WANTS to be a gym teacher. They WANT to coach, they WANT to have an excuse to work out all day, but they don't WANT to make an obese 15-year-old run a 5K.
3. Some random guy on the same bus who was TOTALLY eavesdropping on the same conversation I was. But dude. You're wearing snowpants with honest to God PATCHES on the knees. You have no room to judge.
4. Friday Night After Dark on Showcase. Showcase is sort of like a weird hybrid between HBO and Showtime, but on basic cable. Starting around 10:30 on a Friday night, they begin airing what I call PornTV - a block of adult-industry-based reality tv programming, usually followed by a soft-core porn flick. Now, my question for you, loyal readers (all...what...5 of you?), is this: does it make me a bad person if I not only watch these programs, but am astute enough to catch the crossover appearances by certain performers? I mean, not only did I manage to notice that Dugmor (from Webdreams) appeared on Sin Cities (and get excited about it...like when I was watching Mean Girls and recognized Convo Hall), but during a segment I recognized Malezia's cornrows and said, "hey...she's been signed as a Vivid girl, so now she could even appear on Porno Valley!" That's three degrees of porn separation, folks. Yeah, I'm SUCH a loser.
2. On the same bus, I swear I heard (and I am not making this up) the phrase, "I SO want to be a gym teacher." Dude. Nobody WANTS to be a gym teacher. They WANT to coach, they WANT to have an excuse to work out all day, but they don't WANT to make an obese 15-year-old run a 5K.
3. Some random guy on the same bus who was TOTALLY eavesdropping on the same conversation I was. But dude. You're wearing snowpants with honest to God PATCHES on the knees. You have no room to judge.
4. Friday Night After Dark on Showcase. Showcase is sort of like a weird hybrid between HBO and Showtime, but on basic cable. Starting around 10:30 on a Friday night, they begin airing what I call PornTV - a block of adult-industry-based reality tv programming, usually followed by a soft-core porn flick. Now, my question for you, loyal readers (all...what...5 of you?), is this: does it make me a bad person if I not only watch these programs, but am astute enough to catch the crossover appearances by certain performers? I mean, not only did I manage to notice that Dugmor (from Webdreams) appeared on Sin Cities (and get excited about it...like when I was watching Mean Girls and recognized Convo Hall), but during a segment I recognized Malezia's cornrows and said, "hey...she's been signed as a Vivid girl, so now she could even appear on Porno Valley!" That's three degrees of porn separation, folks. Yeah, I'm SUCH a loser.
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