31 May 2008

Weather!

Last night it was raining and sunny. Of course, this produced a wonderful rainbow. As I was getting out of my car, a guy looked at me and said, "Now, that's a rainbow," in the parking lot of ... Rainbow Foods, of all places.

Tonight it's hail and sun! Oh, I love Spring in Minnesota. Macho Man said the hail at his place -- like a mile northwest of here -- was quarter-sized. I could actually hear it hitting his windows or whatever when I was on the phone with him. As you can see by the pictures below, it was considerably smaller over here in the Lyndale Neighborhood.

I'm just glad it's done before I head out with Macho Man and The Wife to see The French Kicks. Saturday night shows rule. And I'm glad I didn't even bother checking to see if anyone wanted to go to the City Pages Beer Festival tonight. Drinking beer surrounded by fratty douches while dodging hail? I'll pass this year. Thanks!


30 May 2008

How terribly timely.

In today's "No fucking way. Shut. Up." news, "Breast wobble could hold the key to women's chest pain." (Thanks to Jezebel for the link.) I say it's timely because I had to cut my workout short today due to boobie pain. Fuck that mess.

Obviously, I'm having some PMS-y hormonal issues causing all the tit tenderness. (The random, unfounded, undirected crankiness I'm feeling post-workout is another indicator. Uh, this never happens.) The Girls seem to be far more mobile and my Multi-Bra Boob Control System much less effective at this time of the month. Even though all I did tonight was cardio, I got a pretty good upper-body workout while I was on the elliptical machine because I had contracted every muscle I could in my upper body to try to reduce hooter movement. My efforts were not very successful.

Any girl with any sort of a rack, or quite frankly anyone with an ounce of common sense, should not be surprised by the results of this study. But if it spurs advances in sport bra technology, I'm all for it. I'm finally going to break down and order a really expensive sport bra tomorrow. It's time.

I actually could have sworn that I'd read this exact same article a few months ago. A quick search of my e-mail shows that I was wrong. But only kinda. The Boy I Currently Like sent me a link to this article back in September: Exercise unleashes a bounce bras can't handle. My reaction was essentially the same. "Gee, thanks for the news flash, Science."

Sometimes being a woman makes me feel really stabby.

In other news, I'm eating oven-roasted Yukon Gold potatoes with extra virgin olive oil, Herbes de Provence and Hickory Bacon Salt. It is absolutely delightful. It seemed that I was pretty heavy-handed with the Bacon Salt in prepping the potatoes, but I actually could have used more. So, I added some to the taters still on the cookie sheet. I think I'm in love, y'all.

29 May 2008

The mailman brought me something wonderful today.

I wondered what the fuck was in the box than fell out when I opened the screen door. Part of my Amazon order had arrived late last week and then the rest on Tuesday. Frederick's of Hollywood hadn't even shipped my new bras and undies yet. Did someone send me a present?

Then I picked up the package and my questions were answered. I'd completely forgotten an impulse purchase I made last week. It wasn't completely impulsive, I guess. I'd actually been meaning to order it for months, but I was unemployed and trying not to spend money on things I didn't actually need. Though, when you find out what it is, you'll question whether it was a necessity or not. Clearly, it was. But a lesser-tier necessity, I guess. And then I just spaced about it for a while.

Holy shit, y'all -- MY BACON SALT ARRIVED. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Yay!

I ordered the Sampler. My bright idea was to put some on some oven-roasted potatoes that I would make when I got home from the gym. But I was standing in the check-out line at Trader Joe's when I realized I forgot to grab a bag of potatoes. Fuck. I wasn't going to run and grab some, because I don't like being That Person. I considered stopping at Rainbow on the way home, but I didn't pee before I left the gym and I was dying. I did have some Yukon Golds here, but I wasn't sure of their condition. Turns out, it was not good. They are now in the trash. DAMMIT.

So, I just sprinkled it on my hand and tried it. First, it totally smells like bacon. Fucking delightful! I nearly just ordered the original because, why bother with peppered or hickory? How could either taste better than O. G. Bacon, bitches? Turns out that straight up, both of those taste better than original. But who knows what will happen when you put it on or in something.

Being a bacon snob, I don't think it tastes Just! Like! Bacon! It's more like bacony seasoning salt. But considerably better, if that makes any sense. And the saltiness is totally bumped up several notches. Makes sense, I suppose. Bacon is salty and salt is, well, salty. So Bacon Salt would be extra salty, right? Right.

The possibilities are endless. I'm dying to put it on potatoes of some sort. And meat. Perhaps I should defrost that New York Strip in my freezer and grab some potatoes on the way home from the gym or lake tomorrow night. Oh God, I'm So. Excited. Already, the Bacon Salt has outshone those maple-bacon lollipops I bought. I think they had potential, but the mapley sucker part tasted old and kind of fake. FAIL. I didn't even get to a bit of bacon before I got distracted and put it down and forgot about it. Oh well. Bacon candy bars and bacon salt are better than suckers anyway.

27 May 2008

Where has the time gone?

So, I'm at the gym tonight, plugging away on the treadmill. Because, what better way to get rid of the bad feelings inside me than to physically pound them out? I mean there's drinking, but this is probably the better method. Plus, I'm drinking now. So, I get the best of both worlds.

Anyway, I'm on the treadmill and "Flava In Ya Ear" (Remix, y'all!) comes up on the gym playlist. I'm trying valiantly not to mouth the words while I'm walking with a little funk in my step. Then, of course, comes the part where Puffy has to fucking butt in because he loves the sound of his own voice and I hear "'94 ... East Coast ..."

Hold up.

What?

1994?

THIS SONG IS 14 YEARS OLD? No motherfucking way. It seems like just yesterday I was shaking my ass to this shit in the club. Okay, I'm not gonna lie, I'm shaking my ass to it right now on the couch. But that's neither here nor there, really. It absolutely does not seem like 14 years ago. Sweet buttery Christ. Where have the years gone?

It doesn't really make me feel all that old. It's more like I question my perception of time. I was still in college? I'd only barely moved into my first apartment when this shit came out. I couldn't even drink legally! Man.

(Hilarious side note: The lyrics here list "Buster Rhymes' Verse." Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Awesome. Well, it was hilarious to me, anyway.)

26 May 2008

Pork! Guitar Hero! Long Weekend!

Okay, I only ate pork twice over the weekend, but I've been eating such little meat as of late that it seemed like as good a subject for this post as anything else might be.

I suppose my long weekend post actually starts before the weekend. Late Friday I gave my two weeks notice at work. My boss was surprised and sad. My coworkers were not at all surprised, but totally bummed. Who will bring them cookies now? Seriously, there was much cursing when I dropped the news on them. Awwwwwwww. Cute Coworker asked if I had started looking on my second day. He also told me later that he was authorized to offer me $1 million to stay and to let that marinate over the weekend. When I relayed that bit to the 'rents I told them they could offer me $15,000 more a year and I wouldn't stay. It's that bad.

After I dropped the bomb on the coworkers, they did straight-up say that the position has been a revolving door as long as they have been there. And I knew this, but it was good to hear someone say it out loud. It also busts the bosses. They flat-out lied when they told me it was a new position. Oh sure, it has a new name, but it's the same position that has been making employees leave constantly. Honestly. How many times does it have to happen before they figure out that they are the problem? Whatever. It's not my problem any more.

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, KayGee and The Prison Librarian came over for brat night on Saturday. It's something we do every now and again. They come over, I cook up some brats made from the pigs my dad raises and we have tasty fucking sides (potato salad and baked beans this time) and appetizer-y things and we drink and chat and it's always fucking awesome. I made Blondies for dessert. Holy delicious, y'all. We played Wii, too. I still don't have a second guitar, so KayGee and I had to alternate songs when we played Guitar Hero III. It had been entirely too long since I got some alone time with those girls. It was a lovely, lovely evening.

Yesterday, I spent a good chunk of the day in the southern suburbs doing some visiting. My goddaughter turned 10 on Thursday. I went out to deliver her present and visit with my friends. Her four-year-old brother had me in fucking stitches. Then I went to my sister's place because my nephew turns 10 on Wednesday and I had to give him his present. I beat them to the house, and when they came in my nephew said, "Do you want to stay for dinner to celebrate your new job?" Ach. My heart can't take that shit, y'all. So we hung out and ate pork chops from the farm. My nephew and I played Guitar Hero III for a while. He somehow had me playing on Hard and he barely beat me. Yay me! I'd just been playing on Easy the night before.

Today was all domestic. I did laundry and cooked. And of course, I had to do dishes because of the cooking. One of the things I made required roasted garlic, so I roasted some garlic for the first time ever. That was exciting. Sad that I think it's exciting, yes? Oh well.

And now I've got to do the final prep for the work week. I can hold on to the knowledge that I have just nine days left at this mouse-infested crap hole. I'll eat at my desk without shame or worry. I will wear jeans my remaining Fridays. I'll get there when I fucking get there in the morning. I'm less stoked about it at the moment than I should be, but I'm starting to stress about the new job already. Someday this will all settle down and I'll settle into a rhythm. I just have to hold on until then.

25 May 2008

I cannot comprehend it.

KayGee and The Prison Librarian came over last night for farm-fresh brats and drinking on the deck. More on that tomorrow or something. They told me a story about something that happened after we left Psycho Suzi's on the pub crawl last weekend. I'm writing about it because I think it might help me sort it out in my head and help me decide what I should do or even can do about it. I thought a lot about it this morning in the shower (that's my thinkin' place) and it makes me so mad and upsets me so much I was totally bawling.

KayGee's sister is engaged and getting married in September. Our friend Princess Kay of the Milky Way recently got engaged to The Doctor, as well. I guess the soon-to-be-marrieds were chatting on about wedding shit and at some point, KayGee leaned over to Sweetness and said something along the lines of, "So, California?" And they were chatting about that, when Princess Kay leans over, puts her arm around KayGee and starts in on some, "Wouldn't it be cool if you guys called it by some other name," spiel. She apparently kept on in that vein, saying "It would be the same, it would just have another name."

Um, what? I was flabbergasted when KayGee and the Prison Librarian told me this. Look, I know Princess Kay and The Doctor are kind of conservative. But a very considerable chunk of their friends are gay and lesbian. How can you think that way when you're talking about your friends and their lives?

We've been going through something similar in my family, as it turns out. My cousin proposed to her partner a year or so ago and she sent an e-mail out to the family telling us as much. Obviously, they have no plans to get married any time soon, because they live in Wisconsin and they can't. The subject has come up in random family discussions. My dad has said he wouldn't go to a wedding. A couple of my other uncles and my brother have pretty much said the same. I'm not surprised by this in one way, I guess. My dad is conservative and very Catholic. My brother and uncles (two of them, anyway) are of a similar mindset. But this is their niece; she is our cousin. I was even more shocked to find out most of my aunts feel similarly, though I think they'd go to a wedding. "Well, we don't approve of what she's doing, but we'll go to support her anyway."

While I'm not that surprised by the sentiment amongst my dad's siblings, I still am kind of shocked. How could you even interact with them at family gatherings if you'd skipped out on the wedding because you don't approve of same-sex marriage? I don't understand it. Why can't you just love your niece and support her? Be thrilled she's happy; that she found someone she loves and she wants to spend the rest of her life with. You've done it for all the others. Are you saying you love her less because she's a lesbian? That ain't right. Not at all.

As much as my family's attitude upsets me (seriously, I'm crying again), Princess Kay voicing her previously-hidden views seems so much more horrible to me. My family members don't have many gays or lesbians in their lives. But Princess Kay? She is a huge fag hag. How can you look at a wide swath of your friends and think they're somehow lesser citizens than you? Half of our immediate group of friends is in same-sex relationships. How can you look at these people you care about -- that you love -- and tell them that you don't think they should have the same rights as you? "Hey, thanks for throwing an engagement party for us. I'd never do the same for you because I don't think you should be able to get married." It's just so fucking wrong and I cannot wrap my head around it.

I don't think I can be friends with her any longer. I don't know how to tell her that or if I even should, since I heard the story second-hand. But this is a huge deal. At the moment I think I'll wait to see if she apologizes to the people she hurt with her comments. My usual M.O. in a situation like this is avoidance until I get over it or the other party eventually goes away. That doesn't seem like a valid option in this case. I suppose avoidance will work for now. Fuck.

Okay, I'm done with this poorly-thought-out post. I need a drink (okay, another drink) and I'm getting puffy and congested from the crying.

23 May 2008

What I wouldn't give ...

To be sitting on my deck right now, sipping one of the lovely bottles of oatmeal stout I bought at Trader Joe's last night.

I swear to you, this is the longest. day. ever.

22 May 2008

Just in case you forgot.

I had some time to read Jezebel today and came across this gem of a post. Goodness gracious, whatever would we do without Allure to tell us how to shower? Shit. There's even a video on the website!

Turns out I've been doing it all wrong, especially the shampoo and conditioner part. Stupid long, curly hair. You're making me shower incorrectly. Oh, I'll never learn.

21 May 2008

Not a bad day.

I mean, as Wednesdays tend to go. I was pretty tired, but I'm always fucking tired by midweek. Or Tuesday. Okay, Monday. It was nice out. I totally fucking rocked monkey pose in yoga tonight like is wasn't no thang. Well, I didn't get the arms in. But I wasn't aware until I looked for a photo that the arms were even a part of the pose. We do it so rarely in my classes, and quite frankly, the only people in my class tonight who could do the pose were me and my instructor. My hips were open as fuck y'all.

Sure, Cute Coworker and I got yelled at several times today for things getting missed and tiny errors that may or may not have been our fault. But you know what? I don't give a shit because I accepted a job offer today. I'm going to be a research analyst again, but doing business research. It's a great opportunity to expand my knowledge base -- I'll be working with different kinds of data in a different setting. Initially, I was a little worried about going from public policy to business, but through the process I've realized that I'm really, really curious. If someone presents me with a question, I want answers. And that is that.

I haven't said much about the whole process as I was going through it. I'm not really sure why, but it was a conscious decision. It's been a lengthy process -- around a month. And I was recruited by the company, which was a little weird. They finally called late yesterday to make the offer. I guess I had them a little worried when I asked for a day and the benefits information to look over. Truth be told, I had another interview last week, but it was for a temporary (six to nine months) research position. While that gig was more in my field and probably more prestigious, at this point I'm looking for security. And benefits.

They're still trying to figure out my start date. I will have to go to New York for training and I think they're trying to get that all figured out before we confirm things. So, I'm waiting on that confirmation to give notice at my current shit hole. And yes, I'm a sucker because I'm giving two weeks notice. I won't be using them for a reference and I hate it there, but I guess I just can't be that much of a dick. I'm sure this will some how come back to screw me.

So, since the end of January, I've lost a job, started a job and I'm about to quit that job and start another. Hello, stressful situations! I'm a little surprised at how well I've held it together. Which is not that well, but it so could have been worse. You guys have been super supportive as have all my friends and family. Hugs for all!

20 May 2008

Things are afoot.

And that is just what I needed after another craptastical day at work. I screwed something up. Not sure how it happened, but we caught it and it got fixed, so no big deal, right? Wrong. The thing is, if we get this contract we will lose money on it. The Boss said yesterday that we probably should have just not done it, but oh well, we've come this far so let's finish it.

Are you fucking kidding me?

While I wait for the things that are afoot to become a bit more concrete, please enjoy this video I got from a link that Geoff sent me.

Pork. That shit warms the cockles of my cold, dead, hog-farmer's-daughter's heart.

19 May 2008

"She just buys a lot of wine."

Damn right I do, Mr. Trader Joe's Cashier Boy. And this was another one I didn't recognize. Honestly, it's one thing if it is one of the crew members who sees me so often they know where I work out or recognize my awesome coat, but when it's someone I've never seen before? Does my reputation as a lush precede me? I walked up to the registers carrying five bottles of wine in my arms along with my reusable tote half-filled with groceries at the same time as a woman with a single bottle of pinot grigio.

She saw me and said, "Oh, go ahead hon."
I was all, "No, don't worry about it. I'm fine. I'm good at carrying all of this stuff."
"Do you have kids?" she asked.
"Hahahahahahahahahaha. No," I replied.

And in steps the cashier with the remark about my alcoholism. I do so love Trader Joe's. I had really only planned to buy about three bottles. But I saw a new cheapish red table wine I'd never tried. And they had two bottles of my current favorite on the shelf -- Sainte Croix Syrah-Merlot. It is fan-fucking-tastic, y'all. So, I had to buy those since they were out last time.

I knew the very nice woman who was going to let me go first had a pinot grigio in her hand because I used some of that very same wine last night to make this delightful risotto with asparagus, mint and lemon. I'd never made risotto before. It was pretty easy, if not a little time-consuming. But really, you have all the time while you're stirring and waiting for the stock to absorb to cut up the asparagus and mint and zest and juice the lemon. And oh, the lemon! It's absolutely heavenly.

Abrupt subject change alert: For those of you keeping score at home (which I figure is no one), my nephew nailed another kid in the head last night in his first inning of pitching. Sweet! This time he hit the kid square in the back of the helmet, and kinda hard. The kid went down pretty fast and my nephew actually looked a little scared/sheepish. Which is good, coming from the kid who when asked if he feels bad when he hits someone said, "No. They should get out of the way faster."

It's everything I can do to keep myself from toting my little iPod boombox along to a game and blasting "Wild Thing" when he walks out to the mound. I'm going to start calling him Rick Vaughn.

18 May 2008

Pub Crawl = No Hangover?

How terribly, terribly odd. I expected today to be pretty much lost. I had been planning on spending the day on the couch, flipping back and forth between the Twins game and Law & Order marathon until I felt well enough to get off my ass and maybe do dishes or something.

But here it is mid-afternoon and I've been to the gym, Target and Lunds. I've showered and done dishes. I'll be heading out to my nephew's baseball game in a couple of hours and I fully intend to make asparagus risotto when I get home. I'm kind of only going to the game because my mom is bringing asparagus and rhubarb up from the farm. I'd been planning to make the asparagus risotto, anyway, but if I can get some homegrown asparagus to use, why the hell shouldn't I?

I have an abundance of energy and lack of hangover today because by the time I got home last night I was pretty much sober. There were some glitches along the way last night. The big glitch was Psycho Suzi's. We actually didn't have much trouble getting a table, but we did have to split up. My sister and her friends decided to go down the street to eat, and in hindsight it might have been a good idea for all of us to go.

We were there for about two hours. It took forever to get our food. Our server kind of ditched us and by the time our pizza finally arrived, we were out of drinks. I had been out for a while. We were cold and hungry and running out of drinks left us all losing our buzzes and getting tired.

We might have been okay if we'd just ordered appetizers. My Plate o' Bacon and the rest of our stuff came out pretty quickly. But everything was basically cold. And that Plate o' Bacon was not everything I'd hoped it would be. One of these days I'll show y'all a real Plate o' Bacon. I took off before the rest of the crew, as my sister and her friends were at the next bar and we'd already had to skip Grumpy's because we had to wait so long, so I didn't hear our server say she was going to quit because she was so frustrated with the staffing last night. Or something.

Inadequate staffing seemed to be the theme of the night for most places we visited. Honestly, y'all had to have known it was Art-a-Whirl weekend.

Still, though, it was fun. As we were walking from Stasiu's to Psycho Suzi's an older Camaro drove past with an old lady leaning out the window yelling at us, "Whoooo! You guys rock!" Um, Grandma's off her meds again!

At Jimmy's, a frighteningly tan dude was chatting up my sister's friend and me. Honestly, he was more orange than the Tammy Faye-in-training skankle I saw at the gym last week. She was just getting that overly-tan-almost-orange look; this dude looked like the Orange Guy from House. He was all, "So, where are you girls from?" Seriously? Meanwhile, his friend is yelling, "Hey! I'm a dirty rocker boy. Find out where they're going. See if we can come along." Um, why don't you get off your fat ass and come ask us yourselves? Yeesh.

We actually skipped not only Grumpy's, but also Mayslack's and Nye's. We ended the night at the Knight Cap. Seemed like as good a place as any. Macho Man and his young friend (the Gopher football walk-on), met us there. Those fuckers had me in stitches. Plus, they gave me a ride home. All-in-all it was a fun night, despite the little setbacks and whatnot. My sister's friends were throwing out theme ideas for the next one -- Fashion Faux Pas was the best among them. So, you know, look for something like that next time.

I might let someone else take the reins next time. They're not the easiest things in the world to organize; and sometimes I hate having to be the Schedule Taskmistress and yell at everyone to get their asses in gear because we're late for the next bar. And the "Why didn't we go there?" shit gets annoying, too. Of course, if I leave it up to someone else, we'll probably never have another pub crawl. So ... who knows.

16 May 2008

Is it time to go home yet?

Oh my God, I can’t even tell y’all how glad I am that this week is almost over. It’s been a struggle just to get out of bed every day. Not to mention trying to get through the day without bawling or crawling under my desk or into my bed and under the covers to hide from the world. I don’t know what the problem is, but I’ve had enough of it. I feel like I want to hurl at the moment. Today is going to seem interminable.

And now my mom just sent an e-mail saying Best Friend Ever’s dad had a second heart attack. I really just want to go home.

But tomorrow’s the pub crawl, so I have that to look forward to. Though, it seems there’s another pub crawl going on in Nordeast tomorrow and it’s apparently supposed to have like, 200 participants. So, you know, if you’d rather do that one, I guess I can’t really blame you. Mrs. Dirk said we’ll overlap at a couple of bars – Grumpy’s and the Yacht Club. Awesome. We’ll never get a drink at either place. The nice thing about having a smaller group (though, I’d hardly call a group of 30 or more “small” and that’s what we had last time) is that we can be flexible. So, um, be prepared?

For those of you who haven’t met me yet, I’ll be the loud-mouthed taskmistress in the “I Heart Dirty Rocker Boys” t-shirt getting plastered so I can be nice to people.

14 May 2008

Excuse me, sir. Could you kindly shut the fuck up?

Dear Racquetball Dickwad,

I'm terribly, terribly sorry you have to wait for the court to be free. I'm shocked; shocked, I say! that this guy is overstaying his court time. You're quite the humanitarian to wait patiently for Old Man Douche and Friend to finish their game. You could have made a huge stink, but no.

While you're waiting, have you noticed that the room is very quiet and dark? There's soft music playing with some chanting over it. An instructor is speaking quietly in a soothing voice while a bunch of people stand on mats with their eyes closed and their hands over their hearts in something of a praying position. Hey! It's yoga class. So, of course, this is an excellent time to get your phone out and start chatting with God knows who about something that I am certain is very, very important.

GET OFF THE PHONE, ASSHOLE. Or at the very least, couldn't you step out into the hall? Please? It's bad enough that we have to deal with Racquetball Fuckstain every week (apparently, he called our instructor a bitch a couple of weeks ago). Not to mention the little fucking martial arts kids yammering after their class. Oh, and running around uncontrolled, unsupervised and barefoot all over the locker rooms and around weights. Don't you dare bitch when your precious baby gets knocked over or ends up with broken toes.

Anyway, I'm really sorry you can't be alone with the thoughts in your head for five minutes and you must validate your existence and popularity by calling your friends while you wait to play racquetball. If you could just do it elsewhere so as not to fuck with my zen state of mind, I'd a appreciate it.

Namaste, Buttlick.
Jess

13 May 2008

The definition of DO NOT WANT.

It's Tim Pawlenty talking about his sex life. I still haven't read the story, because I don't feel like puking all over the place. But from what I gathered from some comments somewhere on MNspeak, he made some lame-ass, fishing-opener-related joke about his wife not giving up the cooch. God, can you blame her?

Gross. Thinking about T-Paw getting it on is as bad as, if not worse than, thinking about my parents doing it. Seriously. DO NOT WANT.

In other Stupid Republican News, the Republican National Convention muckety mucks unveiled their um, convention apparel?

First of all, that poor fucking kid. Second of all, ZUBAZ? Yeah, that's some classy shit, GOP. I'm going to work on getting a permit to protest shitty fashion during the RNC.

Photo by Elizabeth Flores for the Star Tribune

Damn you, fancypants coffee.

I hate it when a more expensive version of something is miles better than a cheaper version. Over the last few weeks, the French Roast coffee I'd been getting for ages from Trader Joe's was not tasting good at all. I was choking it down in the morning. The smell was awful and the taste it left in my mouth? GROSS. When I ran out, I grabbed some Eight O'Clock French Roast. That was even worse. And I've always liked the Eight O'Clock beans in the past. What the fuck?

Sunday, I went to Lunds mainly because I wanted to grab some flowers for my sister (for being a mom and all). But I needed coffee filters and was about to run out of my gross Eight O'Clock beans, so I bought coffee as well (and a bunch of expensive cheese, too. Honestly, I shouldn't even be allowed in there). I was looking to grab something lame and cheap because usually the brand of coffee isn't that important to me. I can often make cheap shit taste just as good as expensive beans.

I ended up with Lunds & Byerly's (at least it's the store brand?) Organic French Roast. I didn't mean to go all fancypants, but I hadn't had any coffee yet. I was operating in a fog. Plus, it was on sale and the organic version was only 50 cents more than the non-organic. The Eight O'Clock beans got the heave-ho last night when I set everything up so I could just turn on the coffee maker this morning.

Sweet Baby Jesus, this coffee is delicious. I'm in love. I cannot remember the last time I had coffee this good. It is so much better than anything I've made at home or anything I've bought. Though, I rarely go out to buy coffee. I stopped at the Urban Bean on Saturday because I'd forgotten to buy filters, but other than that, I can't remember the last time I stopped at a Caribou or God forbid, Starfucks.

Now I'm going to have to visit Lunds semi-regularly. This is a bad idea because I always spend entirely too much money there. But this coffee rocks my socks, so I have no choice.

12 May 2008

Home Skillet.

Tonight I gave my new skillet a test drive. And holy crap, y'all -- I love it! How have I managed to get along without a deep, 12-inch skillet all my life?

My test recipe was Peanut Noodles. Well, I used that as a base. I added garlic (two of the biggest cloves I've ever seen in my entire life), doubled the red pepper flake and at least tripled the ginger. I used whole wheat spaghetti and rice wine vinegar instead of regular spaghetti and cider vinegar. Oh, and I added red bell pepper and shrimp.

It is fucking tasty as hell. I'm impressed with myself. This is totally something I could make for other people. It's nice that I can experiment with stuff and then take it for lunch for a few days if it works out. While I'm fairly confident in my baking skills, I really feel like my regular cooking skills can be somewhat suspect. Cooking allows you to be creative. I'm not creative. This is why baking, with all of it's precision really appeals to me.

Oh sure, I'll experiment with trying to make healthier baked goods. But substituting Egg Beaters for eggs or applesauce for oil is still a precise thing. It's not adding shit or completely changing things out. Still, though, today I feel like I've taken a big step forward. Yay me! I got a little creative with a recipe and it turned out well.

It'll be back-to-the-basics for dinner tomorrow night. The Boy I Currently like is coming over and we're going to have chicken and mashed potatoes. I'm totally getting a rotisserie chicken. God, I'm obsessed with those things. I have no idea why. I think because I can get so many different uses out of them. I buy one every other week or so and after I pick at it for a bit, I pull all the meat off and use it for sandwiches or quesadillas or chicken pot pie (or just eating it out of the container when I come home from the gym because I'M STARVING)... and now I can see myself using it in the peanut noodles. Mmmmmmmmmmmm!

Clearly, I'm growing up if I'm getting excited about cooking. Or I need a life. These things probably go hand-in-hand.

11 May 2008

Quote of the day.

Courtesy of my nephew, after his pitching his second, three-strikeout inning (the first featured a few walks, too).

"None of the kids got on base, except for the one I hit in the head!"

10 May 2008

Shop 'til you need a damn nap.

I'm not entirely sure how I managed to do so much shopping today, 'cause I was tired, y'all. Went to bed early and woke up like, three hours later. I do get a lot of shit cleared off my DVR while I'm up in the middle of the night. So, I guess that's good.

At about 5:30, I finally managed to drag my exhausted butt back to bed. I was okay with missing yoga, but if by some miracle I woke up in time, I'd go. Of course, my mom called at 8:30 and woke me up. Just in time for me to get ready and go to yoga! It could have been worse -- I could have been with The Boy I Currently Like and had a repeat of the day I spent with him ignoring my phone that led my sister and mom to believe I was dead in an alley somewhere. Oh, silver linings, I love you!

After yoga, I went to Kohl's and Super Target. Then around mid-afternoon, I went to the fucking Mall of America (I had a good reason, I swear to you), then Kohl's again and then fucking Southdale (couldn't deal with the MOA to do everything I needed to do). Honestly, it probably wasn't all that much actual shopping time -- an hour in the morning and maybe two hours or so this evening. But sweet buttery Christ, do I hate shopping.

I got a lot of shit. A dress, two skirts (including a little pink, plaid, pleated number), a couple of shirts and like three little cardigans which can also be worn as shirts. Probably not to work, though. Plus, I got 12-inch skillet, a gym bag and visited Aveda and The Body Shop. And let's not forget all the Target shit and supplies for making cheesy potatoes for our Mother's Day ... dinner? (We're doing early dinner before my nephew's game). Yet there is so much more shit I need. GAH. It never ends, does it? I think I'll be doing some of the rest of my shit on the Interwebs. There was a skirt I saw on the Kohl's website that I coveted, but didn't see in either store. Of course, buying shit on the Interwebs when I'm not entirely sure what size I am at the moment is a crapshoot.

Oh, and I didn't take a fucking nap. I have a memo I need to write, laundry to do and dinner to eat. At least I've started all of those things. Well, I haven't started eating dinner. I have started making it, though. The wine is flowing, too, so I don't imagine that memo will get much attention until tomorrow. Thank the Baby Jebus I work well under deadline. Sure, I could be doing it today. But why would I do that when I'm sure I'll have a couple of hours tomorrow night after my nephew's \game to do it. And if the weather's shitty, I'll have even more time! Procrastination rules.

(Dick Bremer just said "creek." Now, you may be saying, "Uh, who cares?" But he said it the way country people say it -- "crick." Awesome! Ah, I feel all warm and fuzzy now.)

08 May 2008

Pub Crawlin' -- 2008 Edition

I cannot believe I've not posted this yet. It's pub crawl time again! We're heading back to Northeast this time, on May 17 (that's next Saturday!), because there were too damn many bars to hit the first time around.

    Gasthof– 5:00 p.m.
    Stasiu’s– 5:45 p.m.
    Psycho Suzi’s Motor Lounge – 6:30 p.m. (Dinner!)
    Grumpy’s NE – 8:00 p.m.
    Jimmy’s Bar and Lounge – 8:45 p.m.
    Shaw’s Bar & Grill – 9:30 p.m.
    Mayslack’s – 10:15 p.m.
    Northeast Yacht Club – 11:00 p.m.
    Nye’s Polonaise Room – 11:45 p.m. to Finish


The theme is May Flowers (Hawaiian shirts, leis, flowers-in-hair, wrist corsages ... you get the idea). And hopefully we won't have to deal with any damn rain showers. You should totally come to this one, dear readers. It's gonna be bitchin'. Commenters and recurring ... um, characters? will be there. And you got your Bush money, so you should really be out stimulating the economy. You don't hate America, do you? Of course you don't. What better way to stimulate the local economy than to give your money to several local watering holes?

If you want more details, drop me an e-mail. There's a link right up there in the right-hand corner. Really, though, you should totally come.

How terribly stimulating.

I got my economic stimulus cash yesterday – a whole two days early! I only checked my account because Cute Coworker got his and we were both scheduled for May 9. As soon as I said I did get mine, too, he suggested we blow off work and go to the bar. If only the boss wasn't around.

While I would love to save this money, I really have a ton of shit to buy. It's mostly stuff I intended to buy with my tax return, but unemployment got in the way of that. I need a second guitar for my Wii so I can finally have Guitar Hero parties (priorities, people!). My list for MAC is very long, but at least there I can get some free shit with my recycling. I desperately need more work clothes. And Christ, the pants I bought when I started a month ago are already a little big. I really, really need new sport bras. My stop-gap solution of the Multi-Bra Boob Control System is not working very well these days. And of course, I need regular bras and underwear. As it turns out, I didn't lose any weight while I was unemployed – I pretty much stayed the same for two months. That was actually a good thing. If I'd kept losing, I would have needed new clothes when I didn't have an income. Now that I’m working and on a regular-ish schedule, I'm back to losing weight. So it’s still clearance racks and Old Navy for me.

What are y'all going to do with your Bush money?

I feel totally lame because I turned down two opportunities to go out this evening so I could go to the gym. But after a month of being back in the working world, I finally feel like I'm back on schedule and I'm having a really good week, work out-wise. I don’t want to blow that. Yoga was incredible last night. I had my very first yoga orgasm, after pigeon pose. One of my instructors was always saying that we carry a lot of our emotions and past experience in our hips, so sometimes hip-opening poses can be really intense. This sounds totally hokey, I know, but I can tell there is something a little more intense about hip-opening poses.

A few months ago, I was a little overzealous in a class tweaked my left knee in pigeon pose. It had been kind of bothering me ever since, so I'd not had a really good stretch on that side in ages. I guess the problem was gone last night because I had the most intense experience I have ever had in a yoga class while I was doing pigeon last night. The stretch was so deep and it felt incredible. Even though I was all stretched out on the floor and not moving around or anything, I was breathing very hard – I was practically panting. It was everything I could do to not make completely inappropriate noises when I came out of the pose back into downward facing dog. Oh my God. It was amazing. I swear, I still feel all afterglowy about it.

07 May 2008

Funky?

Is it true? Am I really coming out of my funk, as JP said in a comment a couple of days ago? Maybe my personal funk started dissipating when the funk from the rotting mouse in my computer went away.

Something must be changing, though. If that wasn't the case, I would have been all dejected and shit yesterday when The Boy I Currently Like had to cancel on me because he was having a long day at work. A couple of weeks ago, it would have felt like the end of the world. Melodramatic much? But it would have just felt like shit piled upon shit and I would have been supremely upset.

Yesterday, though, it wasn't a big deal at all. I don’t know if I can pinpoint the change exactly; it's probably a number of things. Even though I dislike my job and feel like my talents are being squandered, I'm settling in here. I'm starting to have money so I can go out and do things, which is really excellent now that the weather is slowly improving.

Also, I'm feeling pretty okay about where I stand with The Boy – so much so that I actually told him. And it wasn't even a big deal. That it wasn't really anything for me to casually mention I feel okay about where I stand with him is actually a big deal to me. I was going to say that in the past it was something I'd have agonized over. However, if you have to mull over whether to tell someone you think you’re cool with each other, um, you’re not there yet.

I've tried to be pretty careful with what I've said about The Boy here, since I know very well he could read it. You wouldn't think it would be a big deal if I’m not saying anything bad about him, but I still try to be careful all the same. When we first started talking, he said my confessional style of writing was a bit much for him sometimes. That's been in the back of my mind since he said it. At the same time, however, he knew what he was getting into. I mean, I'm not going to be all lame and gushy. That is so not my style. But you know what? I like him. So there.

It isn't just all about him, though. When I started this blog, no one was reading. It was totally easy to say whatever cringe-worthy thing I wanted because I knew no one was going to read it. At some point, people started reading (I've said it a million times, but I'm still continuously amazed people give two shits about what I have to say). However, they were strangers, so I could still say whatever the hell I felt. They didn't know me. But now there are lots of people reading, and some of them are people I know. Or they are people I could be meeting in the future. Is it weird for someone I might meet at a MNspeak Happy Hour to know all kinds of soul-baring things about me? Are we going to talk about this shit on the May Flowers pub crawl (post coming soon on this, I swear)? What about the people I don't want to know? Do I want them knowing all of this crap about me?

I suppose it all goes back to writing for your audience. When I had no audience, I was really writing for myself. And although this is my blog where I write about my stupid life, I have an audience now. With that audience comes at least some sort of obligation to write things they would want to read in a way they want to read it. Maybe one of these days, I will get the balance figured out.

05 May 2008

When is "done," exactly?

There was a little tag on my doorknob when I got home from work tonight from the Minneapolis Water Works. It would seem that the water main in the area (up at the corner?) is going to be shut off at 11:00 Wednesday night. And it will be off until: DONE. Uh ... you really can't do any better than that? Maybe a range of a few hours? Anything? I just don't want to have to haul all of my shit to the gym to shower in the morning. That would be a ginormous pain-in-the-ass. Coming Thursday: My rant about how much the City of Minneapolis completely fucked up my day by not having my water on and forcing me to go to the gym to shower.

So, it turns out my boss was out of the office yet today. Score! And she's out most of next week, too. I can maybe start being able to deal with this shit. I promised Cute Coworker cookies on Saturday and I delivered today. He and Adrian (not her real name) loved them. I make good cookies, y'all. It was nice to see The Boy I Currently Like, plus my family, over the weekend after I made the cookies. I love it when I have the urge to bake and then get to see a bunch of people who will gladly eat the baked goods.

I finally walked around Lake Calhoun for the first time this year tonight. It was loverly. My ovaries were stressed by all of the adorable dogs. There were two dachshunds! I can't take too much of that shit. Why it took me so long to finally walk around Calhoun instead of doing my cardio at the gym is beyond me. Maybe because the weather has been craptastic? It just really hadn't crossed my mind too many times, which is a bit odd, since I drive past the lake on my way to and from the gym.

Walking around the lake instead of going to the gym allowed me to work out, do laundry and go to Trader Joe's. Sweet! I think I found a new obsession -- the sharp cheddar pub cheese. It's a gourmet spreadable cheese. Sweet Jebus, y'all, I think I could just eat it out of the container with a spoon. And! There is a version with jalapeƱos. Mmmmmmmmmm. Or, I imagine my reaction when I eat it will be "Mmmmmmmmm."

I also had a lovely time catching up with KayGee tonight, too. It's so rare that I spend almost an hour on the phone, but we had a lot of stuff to chat about. It felt like we hadn't talked in a million years. She reads the blog, but of course you don't get all the detail in a blog post. Plus, there are things like MC Crazypants that I just can't talk about here. It's nice though, to not have to explain every detail about everything. Hooray for blogging!

04 May 2008

I think I can face the week now.

Yeah, I had to work yesterday. Yes, I had to interrupt my lovely sleep with The Boy I Currently Like to call in to make sure I didn't have to work today. But I think I can get through this week.

Cute Coworker told me when I called in that he found and disposed of the decomposing mouse that was causing the office funk. It was in my computer. IN MY COMPUTER, y'all. I believe a call to the Health Department is on the horizon.

Yesterday, Cute Coworker didn't think Stuart Little could really be rotting away inside the actual computer housing, but apparently he took my words ("Dude, mice can get into the tiniest places. I bet it is in there.) to heart. I thought The Boy was in dreamland while I was on the phone, but I guess he overheard my side of the conversation. He said Stuart probably not only died in my computer, but he probably lived there, too. And he is probably right, because, where the fuck else would Mike the Office Rat live if not in my computer?

My boss comes back this week, though. We did just fucking fine without her this past week. Yes, I realize how ridiculous it is to say that we did just fine without her and I had to work over the weekend. But honestly, the stuff during the week went smoothly when Cute Coworker and I were left to our own devices. Now we get Eating Issues McGee back to micromanage us.

I think I can make it through the week because I feel a ton better after getting to spend a good chunk of quality time with The Boy. And ("I Turn My Camera On" is on tonight's The Simpsons. AWESOME!) we have plans for Tuesday (spicing up Monday in a Hat, y'all!). That fixes my dilemma about whether or not to see South at the Turf Club that night. I love them and I've only missed one of their shows in town. However, it would have been a late night taking the bus to and from St. Paul. I'm also kinda broke this week. And trying to make it through three more excruciating work days after the show is something I did not want to face. I'll live without seeing them. Guess I'm growing up or something.

Plus, I got to go to my nephew's first baseball game tonight. This is their first year pitching (he's nine, going on 10). It ended up being not nearly as painful as I thought it might be. My nephew is apparently the closer. This means that he pitches the last two innings. There was no closer needed for this game. They won quite handily. And Jesus H. Christ, y'all, that child has a rocket arm. His accuracy, though? Well, he only hit one batter. It should be an interesting season.

03 May 2008

Bacon, boobies and cookies.

Geoff sent me a link a couple of days ago to a picture of a woman wearing a bra made of bacon. It was totes awesome. He said that whenever he sees bacon, he thinks of me. Obviously, this is my mission in life. That picture made me get a package of Family Farm bacon out of my freezer. I do not intend to wrap it's fatty, salty goodness around my boobies, though. I'm going to eat it. Besides, even though my Family Farm bacon is very substantial, it's not going to hold my boobies up.

Though, apparently, I am finally losing weight in the chestular region. I only notice because Leftie is no longer constantly threatening to break free from her bonds. The World's Worst Wing Woman said it has been happening for a while and it's really noticeable. Then again, she's the one who was implying I had an eating disorder after I'd lost about 15 pounds. *insert eye-rolling here* The only other person to say he thinks I've had boobular shrinking is one of my gays. If anyone knows, it's him. He's always feeling me up. In other body-related news: I think my ass is coming back. I am heartened by this.

I ended up being on standby to go in to work today. And I had to go in. I have to call in at 1:00 tomorrow to make sure they don't need me. There is absolutely no reason they should. There is no reason they should need to be in tomorrow, either. Cute Coworker said they're going to work tomorrow for political reasons -- our boss wants to make it look good to the owner. I KNEW IT! There is no reason for these people to be working 12 hours a day. They only do it so the boss thinks they're working oh-so-hard. What. Ever.

There really wasn't much for me to do today. I kept asking what I could do next, because if you're making me come in on a Saturday, you damn fucking well better keep me busy. I could have left after two or three hours, but the boss kept finding stupid little things for me to do. It seemed as if he felt that they'd suddenly need me if he said, "Okay, go home."

Having to go to work made me turn down Muffy Willowbrook's invite to a BBQ. I'm such a pussy. I had to force myself to go out last night to see The Slats. And shit, it took me four glasses of wine to get to the point where I didn't want to punch someone. I would have loved to have hung out with Muffy, Commander, Bestie and Zennifer (and Bestie's son!), but I've not had much energy to do anything since I got home other than bake. And the baking is a totally zen, relaxation thing for me. I made banana bread and I'm just now finishing up chocolate chip cookies. God damn, the cookies are good, too, y'all. Crisp on the bottom, soft on top and all warm and full of melty, chocolate goodness. I can bake some motherfucking cookies, dammit. If you will be seeing me in the next day or so, count on getting some cookies.

I can't believe I'm on call for tomorrow. Christ.

01 May 2008

If you're working on Saturday, home is better than the office.

But at least we know the poison is working on the mice, 'cause they're starting to smell. So, I may have to work at full day on Saturday, but I probably won't see a mouse. Score!

I'm not even that upset. I'm totally annoyed, and was delivering hateful glares to the boss when the subject was broached this morning, though. But I guess I'm resigning myself to the fact that this is my life. For now. It probably won't be that bad, what with my coworkers being there, too. And the weather is supposed to be shitty. The thing that makes me stabby is missing Saturday morning yoga. I missed last Wednesday night because of work and missed last night because I was getting drunk before the Elbow show.

Working late tomorrow night is not an option. I will be seriously pissed if I have to miss The Slats show. I am fairly certain the last show I saw was the Halloween show when me, Mrs. Dirk and a friend who is kind of becoming not a friend anymore dressed up as The Slat for Halloween. It was a rockin' costume. But that was like, a million years ago. (You should really come out to see some local rawk at the Hexagon Bar. You know you want to.)

It does help that I've been getting some perspective over the last couple of weeks. My cousin's wife had their baby on Friday. She wasn't due until early July. Their little girl died early this morning. And Fredder has been getting steadily worse. Hospice has been to the house. It's only a matter of time now. I'm getting worried about being able to get the time off for his wake and funeral, because it's getting to that point.

Alrighty, then. I'll be publishing now, so as to end this Debby Downer bullshit.

We believe in love, so fuck you.

Dear Sweet Jebus. Elbow rocks my world like no other.