Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I went with WFUV. I mean, c'mon. They're playing things like Kenny Loggins, Genesis, James Brown singing "Hot Pants" and M.C. Hammer. If that's not inducing some fun in your workday, what would?
But I do feel bad about Robert Goulet. I'll have to play him tomorrow. RIP Mr. Goulet.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
* Using both American AND Fontina cheese.
* Cooking the sandwich over low heat slowly.
Perfection can't be rushed.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
*I'm not psychic. I can't tell if you're changing lanes if you don't use your turn signal. There's a reason it's there. Use it.
*If you're not moving faster than the lane to the right of you, get out of the one you're in. The left lanes are called "PASSING LANES" for a reason. They're not there for you to park your ass in for the length of the parkway.
*Your vanity plate/rear window decal/license plate border is not cute. It's not witty. It's not funny. It's just pissing me off even more and making you look like a loser. (Hence my start of collecting loser vanity plates.)
*Merging is not something you can be creative with. Just get onto the parkway as soon as you can and get out of the way. There's no reason to zoom around traffic trying to accomplish this so you can get 5 car lengths ahead of everyone else.
*I'd also like to know how those ridiculous landscaping trucks are legal. How is it remotely legal to have grass clippings and other assorted stuff flying out the back of your truck. How is it remotely legal to have 4 or 5 illegal immigrants hanging out in the back of said truck? If they were so concerned with the illegal immigrant problem here, they could seriously just follow these trucks around and solve a good portion of it.
There. Rant complete. Thank you.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Please send your pants designer back to design school. Or at least get him some face time with Tim Gunn. I don't know why your pants designer despises women's waists so much that just about every pair in your stores are "low waisted". Nor do I know why you'd create "low waisted" maternity pants. They fit okay in the dressing room, but after wearing them for an hour and a half I want to rip them off. My growing belly needs support and I certainly don't need to be hitching my pants up every time I get up off my chair.
Nor do I understand why your pants designer doesn't subscribe to the theory that "less is more." Why do most of your pants have inexplicable pockets or drawstrings around the ankles? Why do my "low waisted" maternity pants have the most unflattering pockets? And why are there darts around my knees?
I understand that a large majority of your consumers are the youthful, hip, slender types, but there are more of us out there. You used to make great, simple clothing. And your dresses and tops are affordable and stylish. But your pants have just always left me sad.
One Who Cannot Wear Your Pants Even When She Isn't Pregnant
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
But then they changed their format. Now I can't find anything. No little weekly calendar and all I get is my weekly synopsis. So I figure let me try the bulletin boards there and see what other women who are due in December are up to.
They're all crazy. Seriously. They all have little animated cartoons of themselves all pregnant-like in their signature. They all post things like "What's for dinner tonight?" Ummmm.....let's see, I have to teach a lesson and I work all day, so whatever Trader Joe's is demoing is for dinner. The following posts there weirded me out:
"What outfit can't you wait to dress your baby in?" - How about I'm just looking forward to getting them out of my body in one piece let alone thinking about what I'm going to dress them in.
"What are you wearing to your shower?" Ummm.....aren't showers supposed to be a surprise?
They just all give me the heebie jeebies.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Monday, October 08, 2007
And today, the 2 most highly anticipated items on my list to do are to make homemade macaroni and cheese with a new recipe that comes highly acclaimed on chow.com and a pumpkin pie to stink up the house with yummy baking smells. *sigh*
I was checking my email before dashing out to the Sunday matinee just in case there were any last minute directives from the music director. But there was an email from my dad. It was a journal entry had made 2 Februarys ago about a nice dinner we had shared and how it gave us some normalcy from the then hard routine of radiation treatments (I had driven 50 miles from work to radiation and then another 30 or so home - 5 days a week for 3 1/2 weeks). And under that was a new entry about how far everything has come and how I have this new miraculous event going on and where we all were 3 years ago. And WHAM! It was like a wet towel hit me in the face. How could I have forgotten? I mean, fall always reminds me of that hellacious time, where we didn't know what was going on with me, what was wrong, what would fix it. And I just lost it. Cried and cried and cried. Luckily, it's a long-ish, quiet drive to the theatre because I cried the whole way there. It was as if something had been bottled up for a long time and had to be let out.
By the time I got to the theatre, I was a little more composed. Crying had stopped and I was ready to just go it and play. I decided to just throw myself into the score in front of me and get lost in it. And it worked. I played really well (or so I thought!), and enjoyed the music. It's really a good score and we're at the point where we know our parts and are really just cooking together. The tempos are familiar and we just click along with it. I'm not even feeling pukey when those 2 honkin' cello solos come up now, I'm more comfortable with those.
So even though I was dragging my feet to get up and ready yesterday, it was the best thing in the world for me to have played. Cleared my head, got me going and made me feel good. While I was playing I kept saying to myself, "F&ck you cancer, you haven't taken ANYTHING away from me." A little cliched, yes, but true.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Coming home from IHOP (mmm...pumpkin pancakes) we saw an ambulance in front of the topless bar, or rather "gentleman's club" as they tote themselves as being. We tried thinking of the various scenarios that would warrant an ambulance at such an establishment:
An 80-year-old gentelman got too excited looking at boobies.
A bar fight.
An exotic dancer slipped in her stilettos off the stage.
It's horrible, but we just laughed the whole way home.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Luckily we get paid: