Nevermind
There was another post here, but my husband very rarely suggests I remove something from the site, and… actually, he has never before suggested that I take something down. But today he did. And even though I am extremely annoyed at him right now, he’s probably being more sensible than me.
So here is what I can tell you, instead: The effort I put into preparing a given recipe is inversely proportional to how good the food turns out. Take a bunch of crap out of the fridge and throw it in the crockpot? Delicious! Painstakingly slice and dice and carefully brown the meat and reduce the sauce and braise and such? Meh.
You’re welcome. (The other post was more interesting, but whatever. I apparently enjoy throwing my work away.)
I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore
So last night we grabbed a couple of friends and headed out to a little dive for beer and wings, because that seemed like a fitting way to celebrate our last child-free night. No matter how hard I try, I just cannot get the kids interested in hot wings. (Or beer. Damn kids.)
So anyway, first someone brought us some water and then DIED, or at least that’s what we assume happened, because after a good half hour of sitting there with just water, Otto had to go track down someone to wait on us. The gentleman he brought back was extremely sweaty and I could not stop staring at his hairline, where his hair was plastered down with wet and beads of sweat clung to his forehead. “What do you suppose he’s doing that’s MAKING him that sweaty??” I asked, after he left; but even as I said it, I realized that was one of those questions I really didn’t want answered. read more…
And then I dreamed I shaved my head
So, as it turns out, it’s rather difficult to follow-up a deep, dark angsty post in any meaningful way, and today I’m tired enough that I’m not even inclined to try. Last night’s dream notwithstanding, life has continued on exactly as before, because it turns out that the world does not have the courtesy to stop spinning whenever I’m having a spiritual crisis. Dammit.
Anyway, um, the nice folks at BlogHer are doing a survey:
It would be swell if you would take a few minutes to answer a few questions, especially if you’re a regular around here. You could even win a free pass to BlogHer ’08, which would be cool. But more importantly, you’ll be saving the planet. Or just helping to make sure that my ads aren’t any more obnoxious than absolutely necessary. So. Thanks!
Sometimes love don’t come easy
Otto has one of these, and this morning I played with it for a while. I wanted to take a picture of something I love that feels like it’s hard to grasp, right now, because Lensbabies pictures always look like you’ve captured something fleeting.
Hello Operator, please give me number 9
I have a love-hate relationship with the phone. On the one hand, it IS a device for making with the talky-talky, and anyone who’s ever met me knows that I am quite enamored of the talking. OBVIOUSLY. And I clearly recall having spent the majority of my teenage years with a phone stuck to my head. But now in real, adult life… well, the phone, it vexes me.
Of course, telemarketers are part of the reason I find it vexing. And yes, there’s that whole DO NOT CALL list, but it turns out that there’s so many caveats on that list, it’s next to useless. Anyone with whom you’re already doing business, for example, is allowed to call you about new products. So my credit card companies are free to call me up to offer me THE REGISTER to prevent identity theft and pay my bills should I become incapacitated and possibly administer foot rubs to my husband if I’m unavailable… all for the LOW LOW PRICE of one pound of flesh per month! Stuff like that. read more…
Carefree newlyweds
Hey, remember when Otto and I got married? And then went on the world’s shortest honeymoon while I coughed up a lung? Wasn’t that fun? I mean, except for the lung-coughing part?
And then we had to part ways (again!) and later, when it was time for me to move down here, which involved a long drive and then mortgaging ourselves into submission before the children arrived.
My point here is that it’s possible that Otto and I never really had a good stretch of time to just hang out, just the two of us, and enjoy our newlywed bliss. read more…
Resetting clocks and hiding bodies
Well, it’s been a pretty wild weekend. Otto returns later today, and I still have some cleaning to do before he does. For example, I need to clear a path to the office, so that the DSL guys can come hook me up this afternoon.
Also, I need to hide the cookies. Oh! Wait—I already ate the cookies. Well, then! One less thing to do.
Honestly, I had big plans for my weekend, what with the BEING ALL ALONE for two whole days, but in the end I remained the uneventful bore that I am. The only difference, really, was that without Otto here, I was free to watch as many stupid programs on TLC as I wanted without him making fun of me. And I do loves me some TLC trainwreck programming, it’s true. read more…
No thank you
1) Some freak stumbling across some pictures of my shoes and then contacting me to ask if I have any for sale, claiming to be a thrift store owner. Suuuuure you are, Sleazy McFetish.
2) Having to get up at 4:30 to get the family out the door for their flight up to New England.
3) Having my daughter decide at 5:00 in the morning that she forget to pack something. A, I do not care, B, it’s a good thing you’re about to leave for a week, and C, get out and let me go back to bed.
4) Being wide awake at 5:15 after everyone has left and I am free to go to sleep.
5) Snow. In Georgia. In March. (Whaaaaaaa?)
6) Knowing I should be working, even though it’s Saturday.
7) Acne. Just because, well, OBVIOUSLY.
Charter owes me a latte
We’ve been having huge problems with our broadband service, lately, possibly because all cable companies are run by soul-sucking incompetents, or possibly because my personal electro-magnetic field has thus far managed to disrupt my internet service, on occasion, everywhere I have ever lived. It matters not, I suppose.
And so there have been countless calls to Charter to report the agonizing slowness of our connection speed, and all of the fabulously unrelated questions we get asked when we make those calls. Because, you know, whether or not I have a lot of MUSIC ON MY COMPUTER, that would affect my connection speed, apparently. Also, I have taken to lying and saying that we’ve unhooked our router and have one computer directly hooked into the cable modem, just so that we can skip the part where we spend twenty minutes with them trying to convince me the router is broken. (Hint: It isn’t.) read more…
Sometimes it doesn’t take much
This Love Thursday, I’d like to acknowledge that I married the sort of man who will tell someone “we just ordered my new computer and I’m dancing!” and then—when they say “I’d like to see that”—makes a video and posts it to the internet.
Truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Laughter is good for the soul, and Otto will be nourishing my soul with his utter dorkitude for a long, long time.
Happy Feet from woulda on Vimeo.
And while Otto is obviously my one true love, yesterday’s dance led to remembering another favorite LOVAH of mine. read more…