31 December 2007

My New Year's Resolution?

To have more fun. Duh.

Man, fuck making New Year's resolutions. I fail to see why the calendar turning over should make such a huge difference in your life.

In fact, I kinda hate people who make resolutions. At least the ones who resolve to get in shape/lose weight/whatever and come to my gym and fuck everything up. Oh! Even better -- Bally is running commercials encouraging all those New Year's Resolutioners who will be making my workout hell for at least the next six weeks.

At least I got one last stress-free gym visit in this morning. Starting this week, I'll have to move my visit to the gym back an hour at least. If I try to go at the same time as usual, I'll never get a treadmill or an elliptical machine and I'll have to skip half my weights. This means I'll be getting home later and getting to bed later. When I get less sleep, it'll be that much tougher to get my ass to the gym everyday.

Fucking New Year's Resolutioners. Please quit your pathetic charade in a timely manner. You know, you probably shouldn't even start. Did you realize you're the suckers who subsidize the memberships of those of us who actually go to the gym, right? I mean, you can keep paying. I'm cool with that. But you should probably just stay home. It's cold outside and you're probably tired after work. Doesn't your couch look comfy? That's it. Give in to the TV. Nicely done.

30 December 2007

I love it when a plan comes together.

Holy shit. The Ugly Christmas Sweater pub crawl was a fucking smashing success. I think there were more than 30 people when the group was at its largest. But better than just a lot of people coming out was the fact that nearly everyone participated and did so with some serious gusto.

The few people who didn't participate did end up getting shamed and a little bit, and I think they regretted not having sweater fun with the rest of us. We had lots of turtlenecks and vests. A few people went whole hog with an entire outfit. The best though, were the boys -- especially the straight boys. I did not expect sequins or a cardigan.

For whatever reason, we seemed to have too little time at each bar. I was yelled at for having to be the cruel taskmistress keeping us all on schedule. This never happened on any of the other pub crawls and the distance between the bars was generally a lot shorter on this one.

I suppose the trouble with time management and the high incidence of stragglers was probably due to the fact that we had such a huge group and people were eating at different places along the crawl. Honestly, 30 people really seems to be about the limit for this kind of thing. I basically had to finish my drink and start going around and telling everyone we had to leave.

I feel like I barely talked to half the people who were there -- especially at the bars in the middle of the crawl. We started slow, so I got some time in with my girls at Liquor Lyle's and then we hung out at The Herkimer until pretty much everyone had left.

But you know who I did get to talk to for more than just a couple minutes? Muffy Willowbrook! When we got to Mortimer's we sat down at a table next to some people and a couple of them (who turned out to be Muffy's Bestie and their friend Jen) were wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. We didn't know if they were doing the same thing as us or if they were just being ... festive.

Fortunately, Muffy asked my friend Princess Kay of the Milky Way if she was on the pub crawl and we got to commence to hanging out. Muffy and her crew are ever so much fun and I think we're going to need to hang out more in the future. It was fun to fill her in on (and gossip about) some of the cast of characters here who were at the crawl and others who were not. Oh, and JP, we're going to break you down and get you to hang out with us. You've been warned.

My cousin and her friend had planned to stay here, but it turned out they had to go home and got a ride from a sober friend. I was pretty stoked at the thought of no overnight guests, but Macho Man and the World's Worst Wing Woman ended up crashing here. I almost had The Slat here, too. Thankfully, he was able to get home and I didn't have to share my bed with the World's Worst Wing Woman. I sleep like ass with people here as it is, I didn't need to be sharing my bed.

I do not know what was up with Macho Man last night. When we were standing outside The Bulldog waiting for a couple of people to head over to our next bar, the CC Club, he marveled at how good my skin looked. Then at The Herkimer, he was going on and on about how I was just cute as a button. Clearly, he was drunk off his ass.

The winner of the contest was The Prison Librarian. There was some stiff competition -- what with the outfits and the boys really manning up. But The Prison Librarian went a step further. She embellished her sweater with bells and patches and cotton balls. She won the not-so-fabulous prize. This is something that we're going to do every year, I think. Maybe next year we can get word out a bit earlier and do it earlier in December. But I think this weekend worked pretty well.

Several people who were on their first pub crawl asked what we had planned for the next one. I think The Future Mrs. Dirk and I are going to take a bit of a break before we plan the next one. It'll be better to wait until it warms up a bit anyway. There are so many options -- we missed half the bars in Northeast. We haven't done anything solely Downtown yet. There's the West Bank ... maybe even St. Paul!

29 December 2007

Too much eyeliner.

I need an occasion to wear too much eyeliner. I don't go out to clubs any more. I won't be going to a show until probably February. Those are both good times to wear too much eyeliner.

I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I quite like that whorey, raccoon-eyed look from time to time. We're talking well past just a smokey eye, here. It's a smokey eye with lots of black eyeliner, preferably smudged.

Maybe I'll do it just for the fuck of it on New Year's Eve. I mean, if I can't wear too much eyeliner on New Year's Eve, regardless of what I'm doing, when can I wear too much eyeliner? Okay, I've worn too much eyeliner just around the house. However, I do that when I'm working on a new look or trying to see how colors or techniques work on me. Probably not the best idea, but I often do this while drinking. When I got my new black liquid eyeliner I had to test the cat eye. Not the Amy Winehouse-esque cat eye, mind you. I do it a bit more subtly. Maybe I should try out the wild version, though.

I'd put on a shitload of black eyeliner today for the pub crawl, but honestly, after eight hours or so of drinking it could very well end up being a mess. Guess I'll have to find some other occasion for which to get whored up.

28 December 2007

Attack of the Ugly Christmas Sweaters.

Holy shit, y'all. I nearly forgot about the Ugly Christmas Sweater pub crawl tomorrow! It's been so crazy with the holidays and work, it's been the last thing on my mind. Not anymore, though!

This could turn out to be a fairly massive pub crawl. Friends are bringing friends I barely know, who are bringing people I don't know at all. Shit, my cousin is coming. We didn't ask for an official RSVP this time because I didn't have to buy favors for the drinkers, so I haven't got a good grasp on who is coming and how many people they will be dragging with them.

Some people have yet to get their sweaters and if they fail to participate they will be mocked and ridiculed without mercy. Ragstock apparently has quite a selection, so it's not like they're hard to find. Suck it up and play along, jerks.

I still have to get the fucking prize for the winner. Jesus. I should get on that.

Here's our itinerary. You should come out if you want. Muffy Willowbrook will be there! It's always neat to meet people through the blog.

    1. Liquor Lyle’s – 5:15 p.m.
    2. Red Dragon –6:15 p.m. (Food)
    3. Mortimer’s – 7:45 p.m.
    4. Leaning Tower of Pizza – 8:30 p.m.
    5. The Bulldog – 9:15 p.m.
    6. CC Club – 10:30 p.m.
    7. VFW Post 246 – 11:15 p.m.
    8. The Herkimer – 12:00 a.m. to finish

26 December 2007

Apparently I didn't wish hard enough.

Hey, Fuckstain --

No one cares about your fucking chondroitin. Could you please just shut your fucking piehole so we can enjoy our Savasana in this 57-degree room?

Still hoping your dick falls off or you get some sort of drug-resistant strain of syphillis.

Namaste, asshole.


A few weeks ago, I got an e-mail telling me that a picture I took during The Flaming Lips show at the State Fair last fall had been short-listed for inclusion in this travel guide of the metro area.

I guess they just found it on my Flickr account. I do tend to take a ton of pictures at shows. And they're rarely any good (save for a lot of the pictures I took at the South show at the Varsity last Spring). It's hard to figure out which setting to use and honestly, I'm probably drunk and trying to hold a drink, my purse and the camera. It's no wonder my show pictures rarely turn out.

I may have taken a quick photography class in high school. I really can't remember, though. I know I did yearbook photos when I wasn't doing some other stupid high school involvement thing. Those were my only published photos.

Well, those were my only published photos until earlier this week, that is. I got an e-mail saying my photo was one of those chosen to be included. I know it's not a huge deal or anything. I mean, I'd never heard of Schmap! guides until I got the e-mail from them. And I don't get anything but credit for the photo.

Still, it feels pretty neat.

25 December 2007

Merry, merry.

Hope you all had or are having a lovely holiday. Mine was mostly painless, which is awesome.

God, I always feel so relieved to be back to my life, even if I was only away for barely more than 24 hours. Of course, with the lovely Christmas Day snow we're having, it took me two-and-a-half hours to get home (twice the normal trip). I did have to drop my sister off and pee, but that took all of five minutes.

I made it through Christmas Eve Mass and everything yesterday. I think I really impressed my mom in the kitchen. Finally! I made a horseradish, herb, garlic and salt crust for the prime rib and fuck me, y'all -- it was delicious. And my mom looooooved the cheesy potatoes I'd made for Friday night that we had leftover.

I even managed to sleep well in the tiny twin bed that has become mine when I go home. Granted, I was aided by a lack of sleep on Sunday night, a bottle of wine and a couple of Percoset. But hey -- a good night's sleep is a a good night's sleep.

Everything is unpacked. Well, my clothes and make up, anyway. My glass must be chilled by now. Guess it's martini time. Yay for working at home tomorrow! Boo for working, but I can do it in my jammies. I'll live.

23 December 2007

Unitard day at the gym.

I must have been a very good girl this year, because for the second Sunday in a row, Santa has given me a dude at the gym wearing a unitard. Today, the unitard-wearer was older than the guy last week. Plus, he had a gut. Awesome. Like the first unitarder, this guy wore a long-sleeve shirt underneath. This time, I was pretty thankful he did.

Santa has also brought me a shitty day for driving, so instead of feeling guilty and ending up heading to the farm later this afternoon, it will be perfectly okay for me to wait until tomorrow and hopefully better driving conditions.

I finished wrapping all my presents last night after I came home from the Christmas party (a lovely, lovely time), so I really have nothing to do today but get drunk and watch football. Well, I should probably do some laundry and maybe make a batch of pumpkin bread, but Jesus, I have all day. A little respite between all the family stuff and before the onslaught of friend time later this week through the end of the year is just what I need. Hooray!

22 December 2007

Corrupting our nation's youth.

Or maybe our nation's youth was corrupting me? Last night, my two-year-old cousin and I were toasting each other and then she would take a drink out of her sippy cup and say, "Now you drink your juice!" I mean I was drinking juice already. And by juice, of course, I mean red wine. She's going to do just fine in this family.

I also taught her my evil laugh. And she does it well. Kids can be a hoot sometimes when they're not yours.

21 December 2007

Done and done.

Whew. I am done with all of my Christmas shopping. I make it sound like such a fucking chore, but I spent about three hours out this morning and everything else I ordered online. And part of the time this morning was spent buying shit for myself. And by "part" I mean "most." I bought exactly one present at the mall, yet visited five stores and left with bags from all of them. That's not exactly true. I put everything into one bag because I Love the Earth.

And I managed to get all the food I need for our cousins' shindig tonight and the family Christmas tomorrow. I wish there was an easier way to say "my dad's side of the family." In normal conversation I just refer to "The My Irish Last Names." However, as much personal shit as I spew here, I'm just not at all comfortable with everyone knowing my last name. I suppose I could always pick a random Irish last name and use that. That seems kinda dumb, though.

Tonight should be a blast. My cousins are awesome. Just like the big family thing tomorrow, we will be drinking and eating entirely too much food and getting loud. My sister is bringing Guitar Hero. It's gonna rock.

Ooooh! I got my ugly sweater for the pub crawl next Saturday, too. I spent a bit more money than I wanted to, but my desire to avoid any sort of shopping that doesn't involve food or booze for a while seemed worth spending an extra $10 or so.

Since I took my half-day this morning, I should really get in the shower now so I can work from home, which of course means working pantsless. Sweet freedom! Wrapping all those presents can wait until tomorrow. Or Sunday, when I can do it drunk.

20 December 2007

Like a fart in a yoga class.

I was so distracted by Raquetball Fuckstick's antics last night after my yoga class that I very nearly forgot a most momentous occasion -- someone farted in yoga last night.

I've been waiting for that day for so long and it was ruined by my being in a horrible mood at the start of class and then my restored mood being ruined at the end. Granted, there have probably been many farts in my yoga classes and I just haven't heard them.

However, I have enough distance from the crappy goings-on of yesterday that I can now enjoy that fart properly. There were a couple of older guys (like, my dad's age or older) in class last night. They were in the middle in the back row, just a couple of mats down from me. We had just moved from a forward fold to a squat when it happened. I know it escaped from one of those old asses, I just don't know which one.

I'm going to make it a point to arrive late so I have to take a place in the back row near the oldsters. I am determined to get all the enjoyment I can out of farts during yoga class. They're way funnier and far less disturbing than many of the other noises I hear from my classmates. Honestly, if that pose is causing you to sound like you're suffering an agonizing death, you should probably stop doing it. Just a suggestion!

19 December 2007

Oh, we hear you.

Dearest Fuckstain,

We realize that you are a Very Important Raquetball Player. Did you realize when you busted into the studio to yell to the dude you had been playing with that the lights were off, the doors were closed, people were lying on the floor quietly and there was soft music playing?

Oh, you did notice, but you didn't care because you are too fucking cool to be considerate to other people who pay their gym memberships to be able to use the facilities, too. I understand. I mean, it was quiet in there, so you obviously needed to yell instead of speaking at a normal volume or God forbid, whispering.

And we all know you're cool. You didn't need to wait until our instructor walked away after asking you to please keep it down to tell us that someone asking you politely to lower your voice would only want to make you talk louder. Oh, honey. It was totes obvious! Bonus points for the sarcastic remark about the martial arts class in the studio across the hall. You're so fucking clever, I can't stand it! The shit you said about people with tattoos being stupid? Wow. That's cutting edge. And to say it within earshot of people who have tattoos? Dude. You rule.

In closing, I hope your dick falls off, you fucking asshole.

Yours in Christ,

Bumping up my self-esteem.

I saw this video yesterday on Jezebel. And sweet Baby Jebus, y'all, DO NOT WANT.

There's no way I'm ever going to be thrilled with my body. Even women with what others would consider "perfect" bodies hate something about themselves. But there is no way I'll ever be so unhappy as to consider carving myself up and inserting silicone or other foreign objects into my body. Nor will I be cutting things off/out unless there is a medically sound reason for it.

It's just not worth the risk of ending up looking like the woman in the video. Or Tara Reid. Or ending up dead like Donda West. No thank you.

In fact, after watching that video, I think my ass is pretty damn alright.

18 December 2007


I could have sworn that I'd had a post titled "Blah" at some point in the history of this blog. Seems like I was wrong about that. Or I didn't go back far enough because I'm lazy.

This goddamn fucking cold I have had for the last three weeks finally seems like it is on the way out. Of course, I launched into a coughing fit immediately after I finished typing that sentence. As bad, if not worse, than the actual feeling shitty has been everyone freaking out about the cough or my Lunch Lady Doris voice.

My mom was so alarmed at the sound of my voice on Friday night, she told me that I should stay home from her side of the family's Christmas party on Saturday. Why didn't I listen? It was torturous and all as usual. We did find out more shit about how horrible our grandparents are. It seems they actually told my mom and one of her sisters that they never really liked them. And they wonder why they never see us. Jesus.

Anyway, I am back on the mend. I've made it to the gym three days in a row! Though, I couldn't finish my cardio workout last night due to a headache, coughing and my lungs being on fire. But I only stopped about 10 minutes early. Yay me and all that.

My new birth control pills aren't quite the Holy Grail it seemed they might be when I took the first month's worth. Obviously, I knew the first month wasn't going to be indicative of future months. This is why I didn't write about how "OMG! My new pills are soooooo awesome!" after I finished the first pack. A girl can dream, though.

I did have a bit of the third-day-of-pills anxiety and I think I've got some PMS issues, but that could really be a combination of still being a bit sick, gray skies, knowing I can't take my vacation time next week, being broke and unable to finish my Christmas shopping until Friday or Saturday and general holiday stress.

But Jesus H. Christ, y'all, my tits so sore. I noticed it a bit last month, but it's almost ridiculous this month. Thankfully, I only notice it when I release The Girls from their restraints. There were no problems while I was on the elliptical machine last night, so that was good.

This is probably all just Tuesday being the suckiest day of the week, really. Honestly, what is the fucking point, Tuesday? You're just Monday in a hat. Come back when you're Hump Day and we'll talk.

17 December 2007

So much for that time off.

It would seem there is a project that Must. Be. Finished. by December 31st. This means that I will not be taking the holiday week off. Never mind that no matter what I do, the thing probably won't be finished anyway. But still. It has to be finished.

At least I'll have a built-in excuse for coming home after Christmas with the fam. And I'll be able to do pretty much all the work pantsless. I mean, from home.

Still, this really cuts into all the afternoon drinking I had planned.

16 December 2007

Gym attire.

Dear Guy at the Gym,

Your strappy unitard is going to be the highlight of my day today. I mean, what could possibly top that?

Next time though, just forgo the shirt underneath. It takes away from the inherent awesomeness of the unitard.


14 December 2007

Stop. Family time!

Shit. Now I've got "Hammer Time" in my head. Hahahahahaha! Now you do, too. Suckers.

The family time whirlwind starts tomorrow for me. We're having Christmas for my mom's side of the family at the farm. Honestly, the only reason I'm going is because it's at our house. How shitty could I be to not go when my mom's hosting? I'm not staying long, but that's not the point here.

I don't like spending time with most of my mom's side of the family. Nor does anyone in our family, including my mom. Her parents were pretty shitty to her when she was growing up. They often left for the weekend (sometimes taking just one of her four younger sisters with them) and left my mom to take care of her sisters. That's just the tip of the iceberg. The older we get, the more mom tells us things that make it much easier to understand her relationship with her parents -- especially with her mom.

When my mom and dad got married, my grandparents didn't speak to them for six months because their Lutheran daughter went and married my Catholic dad. THE HORROR. I'm not entirely sure how old I was when I learned about this, but it kind of helped us to figure out that our grandparents were treating their Catholic-raised grandchildren (me and my siblings and three cousins) differently than they treated their grandchildren who were raised Lutheran. We always noticed that they bought our cousins better presents and spent more time with them and whatnot, but we were all fairly old when we finally put it all together.

There is a ton of animosity among my mom's sisters, too. Someone is always fighting with someone else and then they take sides and seriously? How the fuck old are you? DO NOT WANT. I really started noticing this when I came back from college for the first time. Nothing like a little distance to give you perspective.

At least we no longer exchange gifts. That got to be such a fucking joke. No one put any thought into it at all. It was just gift cards or "Tell me what you want and I will buy it for you." Neato!

Next weekend, though, will be awesome. Next weekend we do Christmas with my dad's side of the family. It's like night and day between the two. I love, love, LOVE spending time with my dad's side of the family. We all congregate in the kitchen, where we eat and drink and get loud and have a great time. It doesn't matter what the occasion is -- holidays, random visits, shit -- it's the same after a wake or a funeral.

This year we're doing something new, though. My siblings and I are hosting a party for our cousins the night before the whole family gets together. I'm really, really excited about this. We're all old enough now that we can start doing things on our own. We should be doing this, really (and we've been doing it on a small scale for a few years now), because our parents aren't going to be around forever and this is the way we can carry on our traditions and stay in contact. The response from our cousins has been great, too. I can't wait. Just like all of our family gatherings, there will be a ton of food and lots of drinks (it'll just keep getting more fun as our younger cousins turn 21) and we will get loud and have a blast. My brother apparently has some ideas cooking around, but won't tell us until we're all together tomorrow.

We do exchange gifts on my dad's side of the family and again, the difference is so stark. My cousins (or their parents) put a lot of thought into their gifts and I always get awesome stuff. I agonized for months about what to get my cousin The Piano Man and I finally think I came up with something good. Alas, the Wisconsin clan won't be making it, so I won't get to see if my gift is a success. Such is life when everyone has so many families and is spread out around the country.

After that, it's on to Christmas with the immediate family, which has lost a lot of its luster. All a part of getting older, I suppose. At least it's still fun to watch my nephew open presents. And when that's over? It's time to spend several days celebrating with my friends -- happy hours, pub crawls, New Year's Eve ... I can't wait, y'all.

12 December 2007

How am I supposed to be calm now?

Damn it all to fucking Hell. My yoga class was canceled tonight. I was so looking forward to it. I only got to the gym four days last week and now this week I'll only be getting there three days.

I totally would have stayed and done cardio (I lifted last night), but I was just wearing a camisole with a shelf bra over my regular bra. There is just no way I can get on the treadmill or God forbid, the elliptical machine, without a sport bra over my regular bra. Stupid boobs.

The Boy I Currently Like (who, since he didn't object when I mentioned it earlier today, shall henceforth be known as Sweet Can) thinks I'm still sick because I was going to the gym instead of resting. So, I'll be resting tonight. And when I say "resting" I mean getting drunk on red wine and watching basketball. I was going to try to make a gingerbread cake to serve at the Thursday Night Football party tomorrow night, but I'll wait and do that after work tomorrow. Then my apartment will smell delicious when everyone gets here.

11 December 2007

Time off.

Oh, hurrah! I finally got approval today to take the week between Christmas and New Year's off from work. I have a buttload of vacation time amassed and since my plan to take a week off in October to go to a show every night didn't pan out, I figured this was my next best bet.

Now, of course, I don't even have to take a full week off. Christmas Eve and Christmas day are freebies and I'll have to spend them with the fam, anyway. No idea what I'll do the rest of that week, but I know KayGee and The Prison Librarian also have the week off, so I am hoping for some afternoon drinking shenanigans. This of course, would take place after my late-morning visit to the gym. It will be nice to have a few non-crowded days at the gym before the onslaught of New Year's Resolutioners. God, I fucking hate those people so much.

It is very likely that I would have taken New Year's Eve off, as well, since I'll be heading to Iowa to see a reunited House of Large Sizes play in Cedar Falls. This is my very first real trip to Iowa, y'all. How exciting! This trip should go much better than the disaster of a trip to Madison for New Year's Eve with the World's Worst Wing Woman a couple of years ago. New Year's Eve is totally amateur night and almost always a disappointment, but going to a show is something I do all the time. So, it isn't like we're making some special plan for a fancy dinner and buying a new outfit and all that. Just an overnight road trip to see a band we all really like. Honestly, if I'm with my favorite people in the world, it is going to be a fun time.

With two weekends of family stuff on the horizon and having to finish my fucking Christmas shopping, it's really nice to know I just have to get through the rest of this week and the next. Actually, I'm much further along with my Christmas shopping than I usually am at this time of year. I think I'm about halfway there at least. Still have to do stupid Christmas cards, though. This year, I'm only sending them to people who send them to me. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.

10 December 2007

Still hacking.

Gah. This cough will not go away. Actually, it is getting better and I think if I'd not spent most of yesterday at The Boy I Currently Like's place with him smoking, I might be in a little better shape. But I'll trade an extra day or two of coughing for that.

Whether it's because he feels better about getting his shit together or if the filthy e-mails finally got the better of him doesn't matter to me. I just wanted to see him.

I like to think my philosophy of making time to have some fun regardless of how busy you are rubs off on the people around me. College Roommate couldn't understand how I could completely blow off school on Fridays and Saturdays to go out and have fun. I eventually convinced her that this is what keeps one sane. Shit, I even managed to have a social life when I was working a full-time job, a part-time job and attending grad school. I don't remember a whole lot from those days, but I graduated and I'm not completely nuts, so it all worked out. Right?

Anyway, it was a lovely time hanging out with The Boy yesterday. We watched football, got pizza and did ... stuff. Bless his heart, that apartment of his is a state. I'm not going to worry much about the perceived messy state of my apartment the next time he comes over. Okay, that's a lie. I will. I'll just worry less. I'm always on guard against those damn dust bunnies, lest they achieve sentience and stage some sort of takeover.

The Bob Saget Football club went down in flames yesterday. This will be my worst finish ever -- the top six. I don't know if we play the fifth-sixth place game or not. I should probably check on these things. But there's no money involved, so what does it matter? Even though I lost in the first round of the playoffs, I should come close to breaking even with winning the division and my two high-point weeks. Stupid injuries fucked me over. At least now I can watch football and be less annoying about my fantasy players. I know that's good for everyone.

08 December 2007

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y night!

God love the Bay City Rollers. Why is this song not in my iTunes? I must remedy this post-haste.

I really must say (four Bloody Marys and one Alt bier later, plus the pinot noir I'm drinking right now) that being an Afternoon Drunk is pretty awesome. I mean, I went to yoga this morning, did dishes (twice!) and made low-fat lemon bars earlier today. What else was there to do besides go to the bar at 3:30 and start drinking?

I get to watch basketball all day and all night, regardless of where it is I'm drinking. Now that I'm home, I can watch basketball and play DJ with my own music and not have to worry about what the douchebags at the bar are playing on the jukebox. I mean, there's no Joy Division on there, so what's the point?

Even if it is cold as hell, I love this time of year.

07 December 2007

Do I detect an insouciant hint of lemon zest?

Good God almighty, do I love lemon-flavored things. The tenant appreciation luncheon for our building is today and while the spread was delicious (catered by Kafe 421 *drool*), the crowning jewel sits here with me at my desk -- a lovely, sweet yet tart lemon bar.

A lemon bar, really? Yes really. Lemon bars are one of my favorite things ever in the world. I did Let's Dish last night with my sister and they had snacks -- I went in to grab a bite-sized, chocolate-something-or-other-bar (bless their hearts for keeping them tiny, so I didn't feel bad about eating an entire bar) and a woman sitting near me said, "You should try the lemon one in the back." Jesus woman! There are lemon bars in here and you're letting me waste my time on chocolate? It was a lemony-cheesecake-y thing. And sweet, merciful crap it was delicious.

Side note about Let's Dish: My sister and I rocked that shit, y'all. If I we hadn't had to wait for a station to become available, we would have put together our four split meals in about 20 minutes. I was worried at first -- I felt like an idiot because I didn't know where things were or what the fuck I was supposed to be doing. I was all, "Seriously, I do know how to cook. I SWEAR. I just don't use so damn many plastic bags and what's this fucking crock thing you keep talking about?" But I rallied and finished my first meal before my sister was done with hers. I could see it being fun if you were drinking and with a ton of friends and not in a frenzy to get home and collapse from exhaustion like we were.

Now back to the lemony goodness. In college, College Roommate and I would go to Baker's Square and get this lemon-cheesecake pie thing. The lemon part was a layer on top of the cheesecake layer. I'd eat the lemon layer and she'd eat the cheesecake and crust. We made such a great team. I scrape the meringue off lemon meringue pies and just eat the lemon filling. And my Luna bars? Lemon Zest is the only flavor I'll eat. I inhale those. Granted, it's usually because I'm leaving the gym and starving. But for a protein bar, they're fucking delicious. I always say I feel like an asshole for eating a protein bar after I work out, but whatever. I'm hungry and it's LEMON-FLAVORED. I put lemon zest and lemon juice in my cous cous.

I even love the Lemony Snicket books! Sadly, they neither smell nor taste of lemons. Let's not get me started on Liz Lemon.

Looks like I'll be doing more baking this weekend. Curse you, lemon bars!

06 December 2007

Damn you, cheap beer!

Since I've been kinda sick all week (my coworker popped his head in my office during a coughing fit a bit ago and told me to go home because I sound terrible), I was planning on spending most of the weekend hanging out at home and doing little other than watching ridiculous amounts of basketball and football. Plus, it's supposed to snow again. Who wants to be out in that shit?

However, I received an e-mail today that put a crimp in my hibernating plans. It seems that Saturday is the The Herkimer's eighth anniversary and they're celebrating with $2.25 beers all day and all night. Yeah, like I'm going to miss that.

The Herk has become my go-to afternoon drinking spot on weekends. The Future Mrs. Dirk and I enjoy their cheap appetizers and two-for-one Bloody Marys immensely. After our most recent visit to plan the Ugly Christmas Sweater pub crawl, Macho Man called us "The Afternoon Drunks." The Future Mrs. Dirk said that's better than being an all-day drunk or a mean drunk. I must say I agree.

When I moved from Hennepin over to my current abode on Lyndale Avenue almost two years ago, The Herkimer also became my go-to first date spot. Though, I haven't been there for that purpose since I met Detlef there on whim in ... June?

Given the amount of time and money I spend there, I'm actually not a huge fan of their beers. The Alt is sometimes decent and I remember liking the Schwartz the last time I had it. And I'll drink the Dunkel in a pinch. I'm just not a fan of lagers, and that's what The Herk does. But you know, those beers are a hell of a lot tastier when they're only $2.25. Especially after two-for-one Bloody Marys during Happy Hour.

05 December 2007

Rat's nest.

Blah. Stupid winter clothes are murder on my hair. Well, mostly just on the underneath layer in the back. Like many girls with curls, my hair is all over the place. Some parts are curlier than others, some days are curlier than others and all that. However, my bottom-most layer (the one always touching my neck/shoulders/back) is way less curly than the rest of my hair.

This near-straightness combined with scarves, sweaters, hoodies, blazers and winter coats all come together to make me spend an extra five or 10 (Christ, some days I swear it's 20) minutes in the shower, painstakingly pulling single strands of hair out of these knots. It's the only way to get rid of them. Sometimes they're not bad and come out when I just run my fingers through my hair. But God forbid I wear my hair down for longer than the work day. That's when the really bad ones appear.

Sometimes it makes me crazy, y'all.

So, I had to start getting up a little earlier to make sure I could catch my bus, which is still coming five minutes early pretty much every day. Then I had to add extra shower time for desnarlization of my hair.

Now that it's snowed, I need a couple of extra minutes to navigate snowbanks and the sidewalk of that fucking asshole house behind Pizza Luce who refuses to shovel their goddamn sidewalk. God, I hate those people.

How am I supposed to wear my new boots if I have to walk through that bumpy, slippery mess? It's not like I work at home every day and can wear them around the house. Though, I did that yesterday. I had to make sure they looked good with a skirt. And they did. Color me shocked to see that when I hiked the skirt up a bit, it sure looked like I could even wear the boots with shorter skirts. Thank you, gym! Now I need to buy some more skirts.

04 December 2007

Sick day.

I guess it serves me right to get cocky about being sick without feeling sick. Now, in addition to sounding like ass, I feel like ass. But I'm still going to try to get some work done at home.

Turns out today was a good day to stay home. We're supposed to get more snow and Lord knows a hellish commute would only serve to make me more cranky than I already am.

Oh, but that's not all. My mom e-mailed my siblings and I to update us on the health of a family friend. Fredder, as we have so lovingly called him for years, and his wife are my parents' best friends. Our families grew up together. They have a daughter who was born two months after me and we were hanging out already when we were six and four months old; knocking my mom's plants over and eating the dirt. I guess that makes her my oldest friend. I spent so much time at their house as a kid. The first time we got drunk, we stole some of Fredder's beer (though, I was smart enough to drink the root beer schnapps we'd put into a pint jar, rather than the warm Schmidt's).

Fredder was diagnosed with cancer in the lining of his stomach four or five years ago. At the time, it seemed like he only had a few months to live. But some experimental treatments worked for him and he was doing well until probably this year. He's been deteriorating for the past few months, though. to the point that he's given away most of his stuff and whatnot.

Last week, his doctors told him there was nothing more they could do and he should look into hospice care. He's in a lot of pain. He can't eat and spends most of his time sleeping. My dad saw him on Saturday and Fredder said he just hopes he can make it to Christmas.

Lord knows I hate crying at work, so it's good I'm home sick today where I can be teary and red-eyed in the privacy of my own living room. Plus, the crying makes the coughing worse. I don't think I sound very pleasant at all today.

03 December 2007

More testicles mean more iron.

I sound like Lunch Lady Doris. I seem to have developed a bit of a chest cold and the coughing has wreaked all kinds of havoc with my voice. It's so sexy y'all. Years of singing, cheer leading and yelling at sporting events combined with thyroid surgery has left my vocal chords quite sensitive. If only I could sound more like Kathleen Turner or someone with an equally sexy, husky voice. But no.

It's kinda funny that I sound like Lunch Lady Doris, yet I've been channeling Betty Crocker for several days. They're kind of on opposite ends of the kitchen spectrum. On Thursday, I made pumpkin bread. Saturday, I baked chocolate chip cookies and yesterday it was brownies. Help me! I can't stop baking!

Actually, I have stopped, but only because I've run out of people to give this stuff to at the moment. The 'rents have a loaf of pumpkin bread and we ate one at the party Thursday night. I gave a bunch of cookies to Sweetness at Lyle's along with his Absolutely Random Birthday Mix cd and also gave a bunch to KayGee and The Prison Librarian. The remaining loaf of pumpkin bread, the rest of the cookies and all the brownies are presently sitting in a box (wrapped with bacon tape) waiting to be taken to the post office and delivered to yet another person.

Oh, but I'll see my sister on Thursday. This means I can make banana bread. Oh, hurrah! I cannot be stopped. Unless I'm out of honey. I should check on that.

I don't know if it's the weather or all this pent-up something or other that's fueling my insatiable urge to bake, but I kinda wish it would stop. I don't have enough room in my freezer for all this stuff.

Speaking of pent-up things, I was very calm today when I called Frederick's of Hollywood because they shorted me four pairs of Vanessa mesh boy shorts. How dare they! I was so sad when I opened up all that packaging to find a single pair. I was really looking forward to getting those undies. Teases.

Also, what's the point of wearing a camisole under a low-cut sweater if the camisole is barely covering your hooters? At least I tried not to look like whore today, I guess.

01 December 2007

Drinking during the snowstorm.

There's something terribly fun about going out to the bars during a snowstorm. I'm glad I finished my channeling of Betty Crocker in time to go out to Liquor Lyle's.