Thursday, March 30, 2006

One hundred posts, thousands of laughs...

We did it! This is our centennial… um, centurion… it’s our 100th post! And we couldn’t have done it without our four faithful readers (it would look pretty dumb if SJ posted and KAT commented, then KAT posted and only SJ commented, wouldn’t it?) So, here is a really, really long list of our favorite posts and our favorite comments. Yes, it’s a long list, but it just goes to show what Funny Gals we are. And you readers are pretty funny yourselves! So, thanks for reading about our lives and keep those comments coming. Happy 100th! –SJ and KAT

KAT’s Top Five Favorite Posts:
From “Clearly I’m already IN the circus”
So it makes me wonder. is there some secret coffee maker that I don’t know about? is he confusing this for his coffee maker at home? if so, what on earth are my coworkers doing at his house?

From “Domestic Bliss… or at least Domestic Satisfaction”
(About SJ’s dog, Bailey) He’s cute, no doubt, but his year on earth has ceased to calm him in any ways detectable by the human eye. Although he’s mastered “sit,” “paw” and “lie down” (and can be commanded using only sign language, no less) he has yet to learn what “Go away while Aunt Busty watches her stories” means. Despite the yelling (by me) and scratching (by him) and the drooling (him and sometimes his Uncle Chris), he’s a fun dog to have around.

From “Get over yourself, Scotty”
Scotty, a guy I’ve also known since third grade and had a crush on for about 10 minutes in fourth grade, is now bald and spreading frighteningly around the middle. Unfortunately, I think he never got over the fact that I had a crush on him briefly and I think he thinks I harbor romantic inklings towards him. To which I say, get over yourself Scotty. I’m happily married and my husband has all of his hair and could bench press you all the while discussing the finer points of early Roman civilization and culture.

From “Here’s hoping ‘crazy’ skipped a generation!”
I cannot believe what I am about to write, but my dad informed us this morning that he purchased a cannon. That's right, if enemy forces invade my small Connecticut hometown, my dad will be leading the defensive charge.

From “weekend warriors”
Also, let me just say one more thing about my weekend: my parents seem to have an uncanny ability to stop by for an unannounced visit in such a manner that would preclude another grandchild.

SJ’s Top Five Favorite Picks:
First things first, KAT stole a few of my faves. But I let her pick first, so it’s only fair that I’m able to use my favorite picks to call attention to a few more oldies but goodies.

From “I want to run away with the circus. Or the cirque. Whichever.”
Unless of course I learn to play the accordian, which French music has fully embraced. My take? There's simply not enough squeezable instruments in today's pop culture.

From “Nothing to Laugh At”
Last week, we were talking about someone who committed suicide. While that is obviously not a laughing matter in itself, I couldn't keep a straight face during the following exchange:
Woman: “How did he kill himself?”
Man (dropping his voice into a very serious tone): “I heard it was suicide.”

From “Why I’m Glad I’m Not Katie Holmes…”
As someone who tears up when squeezing particularly painful zits, I don’t think there’s a chance in hell I’m going to be able to shoot an object bigger than a bowling ball out of my nether regions without sharing a couple of thoughts about the experience with those around me.

From “Spared by Buckets of Rain Only to be Sunk by Buckets of Rain”
My dad, in true Dad fashion, thought that along with the hose, we should also take some Naval Jelly (of which he has 10 containers) -- you know, to clean the stern of our... uh... house, some dry gas, and some fuel injector cleaner (I guess in case our house goes under water and we need to make a fast get away?). And a video camera. Because, you know... somewhere in all of that, there are some serious America's Funniest Home Video moments to be had.

From “Going Bald”
I won’t go into minute detail about this, but it involved discussing a very private part of my anatomy with a complete stranger. Actually, she wasn’t a complete stranger because she’s also my manicurist (a multi-talented manicurist, apparently). It also involved one of us taking our pants off, but I’ll leave the rest to your imagination (if the number of males reading our blog doesn’t go up after this, I’m out of ideas!)
To illustrate what it was like, I will tell you what the conversation with MM was after I left the place.
Me: “Oh my god! Don’t do it!”
MM: “Is it that bad?”
Me: “Oh my god! Don’t do it!”
MM: “Are you OK?”
Me: “Oh my god! Don’t do it!”

KAT’s Top Five Favorite Comments:
(OK, OK, there ARE seven… I had trouble deciding which five were my favorite because you’re all such funny people!)

From “Why I’m Glad I’m Not Katie Holmes…”
Ronnie Francis said...
The girl is brainwashed. Tom Cruise can NEVER be my wingman. It's obvious he never got over Goose's death because he's a total nut-job. Someone needs to tell him that it was just a movie and Anthony Edwards is OK... he's just ignoring him.

From “And the award goes to…”
KAT said...
Wow, I didn't realize people were still trying to pull the "it's not real alcohol" trick anymore. Do they even sell "fake alcohol"? (especially in real bottles?!?) You earned that burning sensation, my friend!

From “My uterus has a few years before it shrivels up…”
sj said...
but i would never have considered having a baby with someone other than my husband. i mean. wait. that didn't sound right. i meant- having a baby on my own - i could never do it. i'm just not cut out for it.

From “How I learned snow tubing is not for me”
Anonymous said...
I think I will stick to tubing behind the boat- you can’t bang your head on anything other than a fish maybe...

From “Remaining resolute”
PuceMole said...
Congratulations on the very real boyfriend. Most excellent choice!
Side note 1: am I the only one to find it amusing that the "voice of reason" is also the guy who has a cannon in his front yard?
Side note 2: my resolution is discover my secret power. I think it's invisibility, but I'm not sure. I only notice it when it's dark or I'm at a bar.

From “Stir crazy”
stac said...
Yeah - I've tried the "substitution baking" technique and it never works. The worst was the time I substituted molasses for corn syrup (hey, they're both syrup-y and sweet, so I figured what the heck?) Those ended up being the hardest muffins I've ever made. Jonathan accidently dropped one and it sounded like a rock fell off the counter.

From “Life’s Little Amusements…”
sj said...
i didn't bust out the cleavage until we were losing at setback.

And SJ’s favorite all-time comments
(I’m not a numbers person, I’m a words person…)

From: “In the Beginning”
Zam said...
Sorry, I was looking for "furnygals." Could somebody please direct me to the Web site with lurid pictures of women posed with 7-piece dinette sets, two piece-hutches, and ottomans? Or is that ottomen? Or ottowomen? Anyway, I've got my furniture polish and I'm ready to go.

From “who *are* these people?”
Ronnie Francis said...
I have no idea who Cliff is either!!! OMG!!! Then again, I never went to ESPN High, so I have a mighty good excuse for my memory lapse.
I'll tell you what I did to prepare for my 10 year re-union... I ignored it. I was too busy shopping online at Banana Republic or something. Yeah.

From “Rock the Vote”
Aunt J said...
Well, I still like black nylons--in the right context anyway. And I wouldn't turn down a nice warm pair of black tights on a cold New England day, but don't generally wear them anymore with skirts, dresses, etc. (They remind me of my beatnik days back in grade school, although I was known to wear yellow tights then as well.) I've always loved black as far as clothing goes. But I've also never been a "fashion plate" as they used to call it. Always felt like doing my own thing (that stems from my hippie days). Have I dated myself sufficiently now?
Have you tried Googling "black stockings"? Nasty business, really... Although you do find indication of others struggling with the same dilemma.
And for a whole fresh outlook on the topic, go to:
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

From “Here’s Hoping Crazy Skipped a Generation”
little sis said...
So.... the cannon saga continues. Once I became aware of Dad's latest eBay purchase, I called him to ask him if he was out of his mind. He agreed with me that perhaps he hadn't fully thought through the logistics of how he is going to get a 500+ pound cannon into the back of A's truck. Yet, to my surprise, in the next breath Dad is contemplating his next purchase. "You know, E, I might just get a second cannon." "What?!?" "Yeah, I could put cannons all over the yard." If the neighbors thought he was crazy before, just wait until they look out their windows and see an ever-growing collection of life-size cannons lining his perimeter.
And the scary part is, Dad is actually planning on firing the cannon. Here I am, picturing cannon balls flying through our neighbor's walls, but Dad assured me, that "I won't fire anything out of it; I'll just blow it up (using gunpowder)." And he'll only do that when he has visitors. Because you know, as Dad says, "How many people have a real cannon in their front yard?" I don't know, Dad, probably just you.

From “Welcome to the Jungle”
PuceMole said...
I hadn't been that close to an actual live mating ritual in some time. I felt like I was in one of those drive-thru safaris. I swear I heard an Australian accent whisper, "Crikey! Isn't she gorgeous? Look at the, um... eyes... on 'er"
My nomination for Funny Gals' Line of the Year: "Before she could react to the penetration of her herd." Nicely done. *tips cap*

From “The best compliment ever…”
Ronnie Francis said...
You had me at hello...
(This is mostly funny if you know Ronnie Francis and his acerbic wit.)

From “"She’s proud and he’s prejudice, but really, you’d think it be the other way around."
stac said...
My favorite quote from Pride and Prejudice was when Lizzy and her aunt and uncle were touring Pemberley for the first time and she looks out over the pond and says "And of all this, I might have been mistress." And this followed by the Mr Darcy swimming in the pond and wet shirt scene...yummm. Yup, another Colin Firth addict here.
Mad, mad props to Stacey for quoting P&P – the BBC version.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Two steps forward, one step back…

The weekend went well in Mollyland… we were away for most of the day on Saturday, but made up for it on Sunday when we took the puppy for a ride and bought her some treats (I apologize for all the times I mocked SJ and her hubby for taking Bailey for trips to the store!) I got up at 6 a.m. on Sunday after four hours of sleep to feed the little monster and play with her for about an hour. I fell back asleep and it was the PH’s turn to take the second shift at about 8:30 a.m.
In the afternoon, we took Molly to PetSmart for some doggy shampoo (having only had short-haired dogs growing up, I’m just beginning to realize how much grooming the long-haired versions require!) and to the dog bakery for some treats. I think her biggest treat (aside from all the people who admired and petted her) was getting to sniff at other dogs at the bakery.
So all was well when our little family drifted off to sleep last night. It wasn't until about 5 o’clock this morning when things took a turn for the worst.
The PH woke to the whining and, being the chivalrous man that he is, he nudged me awake and told me to take her out (to be fair, he gets the morning shift from 6 a.m. on to let me sleep…) So I stumbled downstairs in my bathrobe, opened my eyes just far enough to make sure I didn’t step on Molly and somehow got her collar on and got us both outside.
I didn’t realize how beautiful and still the world can be at dawn. I still haven’t fully realized it because I was too busy freezing my butt off and trying to get Molly to “go potty” to do too much sightseeing.
Anyway, back into the house after the pup decided she didn’t really need to go. Tried to get back to sleep while she whined downstairs (“Mom, Dad! It’s light out, let’s play! I don’t care if we’ve only had five hours of sleep… I sleep all day while you’re at work anyway!”) I woke a few hours later refreshed and ready to play with my cute little puppy... until I took her outside and she did nothing, then came back into the house and pooped on the carpet three minutes later! Argh!
As you can see, the potty training continues…

Friday, March 24, 2006


that's an expression i rarely use, but it was HARD to get out of bed this morning. last night was the billy joel concert in hartford -- and yes-- it was great. i wasn't expecting him to be as awesome as he was.

well done, billy.

in other exciting news, bailey has developed a taste for diet pepsi. i thought he was sleeping on the couch, and next i hear a faint metallic "tinkle, tinkle."

it was the brush of his collar against my glass. i yelled, and he looked so startled... and turned to me: "what?! i'm thirsty." he then moved to the recliner.

we're working on figuring out the whole photo thing so you can get the visuals of crazy hyper dog with off switch that is bailey and spunky cute little ewok that is molly.

not much else is going on today except that we're already planning our anniversary post. that's right, dear readers, we're hitting our 100th post soon.

so, in preparation, feel free to let us know your favorite posts. we're collecting our own favorites for a little Simpsons-esque tribute.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Battle of wills...

She weighs less than four pounds, but Molly obviously thinks she rules the roost. A lot of the training we’ve been doing over the last week or so is designed to show her that she is NOT the boss. We’ve had to leave her in the bathroom, despite her whining to get out, because we don’t want her to get the idea that all she has to do is whine and she’ll get her way. We’ve also tried not to respond to her bark, which she discovered last weekend. And biting is definitely not OK. The last thing I want is a yappy, nippy little dog.
Despite all of our efforts to remain in charge, the little monster has had her victories. The other night, she fell asleep in the PH’s lap while we were watching a movie. Thinking we could sneak her into her crate for the night and have a few moments to ourselves, we stealthily brought her into the bathroom and placed her in the crate. She was, of course, out of the crate by the time we were backing to the door and she was suddenly wide awake and ready to play.
We decided to ignore her and finish watching the movie. Well, Molly found THE ONE TOY she owns that squeaks.., and she went to town. We normally don’t leave the toy in the bathroom because we prefer not to have it used as an alarm in the morning, but she took the first time we forgot to take it out to teach us a lesson. For 15 minutes, she chewed it and stepped on it and did whatever it took to make that toy squeak. It sounded like a pack of mice had been let loose in our bathroom.
All we could was laugh… and plot our next move.

I’ve been labeled by Ticketmaster.

Just because I’m going to the Billy Joel concert, I’ve been labeled as an 80s-head. This morning, in my inbox, I found: “Don’t miss Rick Springfield!”

Are you kidding me?

I am wearing the best shoes ever today. They’re new. They’re olive green. They’re rounded toes with a little rhinestone button, and they’re 2 inch heels.

Perhaps it is a woman thing. But it’s true – when I put on a pair of fantastic shoes, no matter what else I may be wearing, it makes me feel great. and since I’m limited in my ability to walk in most heels, it’s tough for me to find a pair that looks great and that I can walk in. And also because I know the rest of my outfit doesn’t exactly go, my shoes totally do.

From the knee down, I am totally put together today. Otherwise, as usual, I’m a mess.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Polly want a ....?

There’s a story on about the bunker supplies found in the Brooklyn Bridge, and it prompted me with another “how crazy are our fathers?” moment.

For YEARS we had these crackers in our barn. We used them to feed the animals as treats, and played with them ad infinitum. Cracker soup, cracker stew, cracker tea party with the sheep and goats, etc.

Eventually, my dad crawled up in the barn, gathered his remaining tins, and sold them on eBay. (How funny would it have been if KAT’s dad was the one who bought them?)

But OH MY GOD! 10,000 calories?! Talk about your anti-Saltine! Good LORD that’s a lot of calories for a cracker. And this is before you slather on the PB.

And yes, we did actually try them, I think on a dare. I don’t exactly remember the taste, just that they were really, really stale. But my goodness. That one bite was probably an entire cheesecake.

I feel so duped. And a little grossed out since I was trying stale highly caloric crackers 10 years after they were ordered destroyed because some were found to be rancid.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Playing by the rules...

At the risk of telling you more than you’ve ever wanted to know about the PH and I, I will tell you that we have a rule that neither of us can wear more than one piece of clothing to bed (it’s OK to shudder; I’m kind of grossed out by talking about this too!)
Anyway, I broke the rule last night by wearing two pieces of clothing to bed. The PH noticed as he was getting into bed and decided to teach me a lesson by keeping his sweatpants on. A few minutes later – after apparently stewing about my choice of clothes for awhile – he got up and began digging through the closet. Turns out he was looking for his wool sweater. I laughingly directed him to where it was and just kept laughing as he put it on and got back in bed.
I actually found the sweater to be quite comfortable to cuddle up to and antagonized him by covering him with the down comforter while he was wearing the sweater. Seeing as the PH sweats at night more than anyone I know, I figured covering him with the comforter would teach him a lesson and we could all move on with our lives.
Turns out he’s a pretty stubborn guy and he kept the sweater on. To add insult to injury, when I was trying to wrestle the sweater off of him, I knocked him off the bed. So he curled up on the floor.
I stole the down pillow he had bought that night and promptly fell asleep. Turns out he did too and he spent two hours sleeping on the floor (in the sweater!) before he returned to the bed. Never a dull moment in our household…

Monday, March 20, 2006

I'm an INFP

According to Meyers-Briggs, I am an Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling Perceiver.

What does that mean you ask?

Apparently this:
They live life in an intently personal fashion, acting on the belief that each person is unique and that social norms are to be respected only if they do not hinder personal development or expression. They strive to adhere to their own high personal moral standards and are particularly sensitive to inconsistencies in their environment between what is being said and what is being done.

Empty promises of adhering to something they value – such as environmental causes or human rights - set off an inner alarm and they may transform themselves into modern day Joan of Arcs.

They are quietly persistent in raising awareness of cherished causes and often fight for the underdog in quiet or not-so-quiet ways. In a team, they will raise issues of integrity, authenticity, and good or bad, and may to opt out if the team refuses to address the questions raised.

They are usually tolerant and open-minded, insightful, flexible and understanding. They live for the understanding of others and feel deeply grateful when someone takes the time to get to know them personally. They have good listening skills, are genuinely concerned, insightful, and usually avid readers. At their best, they inspire others to be themselves.

Our visit to colonial America

Friday night was fun times. We celebrated St. Patty’s day properly – with pizza at the nearby Italian eatery – with our Canadian/Scottish heritage friends. To commemorate the day, we all had non-Irish beer.

This is in severe contrast to my celebration last year when I met some friends at Vaughn’s at 12:30 and stayed until after 8 in the evening.

But – Friday night was a definite reminder of the absolutely interesting and diverse crowd we hang with.

Stac and her husband Jonathan are like the living, breathing Discovery channel. Hanging out with them is like life on PBS – this is the best way I can describe it. She spins. I don’t mean crazy cyclist class at the Y. I mean, she makes her own yarn. And from the yarn, she can make – like anything. It’s amazing to me. And he— he does blacksmithing.

The best part about all of this is the fact that they are both software engineers by day. By night, they are the 1720 house.

So what I mean by the PBS comment is – they make you think. You feel good about hanging out with them because you actually can feel yourself getting smarter and developing your sense of .. history? Maybe. That’s not really what I mean, though.

I mean they’re quality, quality people. And I’m not talking about boring documentary people. I’m talking about laugh-so-hard-you-nearly- choke-on-your-pizza fun people who are just so different from yourself that you actually feel yourself growing at the end of the day.

It makes for good times.

And it also made me realize that J is a natural born spinner. He took to making yarn like a duck to water. There’s definitely an element of rub your belly and pat your head at the same time difficulty to spinning that makes it hard for uncoordinated saps like myself to catch on quickly.

Maybe next time, I should hang out and solder with Jonathan and let J spin with Stac.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

unfunny times call for desperate measures

so I went to the wake on Sunday, and it was so, so sad. but thankfully, there were some exceedingly funny people behind me whose oddball humor that ordinarily might have had a mixed audience, found a fan in me.

the line was so long, which I think is expected when someone too young and so loved dies. but, after waiting for over two hours, the woman behind me piped up:
“so when do we get on space mountain?”

it felt good to laugh. and I know that laughing at wakes and funerals is generally frowned up, but, I think somehow he would have appreciated such a comment.

it got me thinking of inappropriate times to laugh – much like the infamous chuckles the clown episode of mary tyler moore. so here’s my list of times when you probably shouldn’t crack a joke, in theory, but in practice, it brings welcome relief:

1. during your employee review with your boss
2. when you’re being told of downsizing
3. while exchanging vows (a sample of this, from my own experience: “I will..i mean, yes.. I mean, I do.”)
4. during an IRS audit
5. when you’re best friend gets a pekeapoo and it projectile vomits all down the front of her – oh, no wait – that’s funny no matter how you look at it.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Welcome to the world, baby girl!

Picking out the tiny, black Pekapoo was fun, but I didn’t feel a huge bond. Having it cuddle up to me in the car gave me that warm, fuzzy feeling, but I still didn’t realize the import of the situation. It wasn’t until the little teddy bear gazed up at me with her huge, dark eyes… and threw up all over me… that I really felt that attachment. It’s the moment I became a mom.
The PH and I are the proud parents of a little puppy that is a cross between a Pekinese and a poodle. It sounds like an odd-looking dog… and it is, a little. It resembles an Ewok from “Star Wars.” From the top it also looks like an oversized guinea pig. But it’s a face that a mom and dad (and aunt, uncle and grandpa) can love… and we do.
Molly is tiny, just under four pounds (which is probably 30 percent substance, 30 percent fur and 40 percent attitude). She gets cold easily, which is why I had her wrapped in a towel and cuddled against my chest when our bonding moment came about.
The poor thing was shivering when she happened to look me in the eye and let it rip. Her aim was so exact that not a spot of vomit got on my clothes… it all got IN my clothes! She managed to vomit (twice) down the front of my shirt so that I was covered from collarbone to belly button with half-digested kibble… inside my shirt. In the hopes you will never have to experience this, I will only describe it as a gross feeling.
Despite the feel, and the smell and the vision of the dog puking seared into my brain, it wasn’t such a bad thing. The thought that ran through my head in the split second it took to register the warm puke down my shirt was, “Now I’m a mom.” And, despite the vomit… and the poop… and the lack of sleep the last few nights... I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Friday, March 10, 2006

there's a tear in my hand.

sorry- another unfunny entry.

i got some sad news today. someone i knew once upon a time died suddenly, unexpectedly and too quickly entirely for the rest of us. i have no words of wisdom on the matter, just some reflections.

he was young-- my guess is in his 40s. he was funny and well-loved by anyone who knew him. he was married to a beautiful inside and out woman and their life i'm sure was happy.

when i told j, he responded that life is short, fleeting and love those around you. he's right. so love your loved ones. waste no time on bitterness and resentment. the world doesn't stop when you're gone. people whom you met years ago will recall you when they hear the news of your death, and those whom you touched will shed a tear.

so today i'm thinking of all of those people that I've lost over the past couple of years. there are way too many, but i like to think that since i haven't forgotten them, they're still here, still connected a bit by something.

gary's death brought back a world of people i was once closest to, and it's a good reminder of all of those i've left behind and all of those i have yet to meet.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

She’s proud and he’s prejudice, but really, you’d think it be the other way around.

I may officially be a little nuts. so we all know about my crazy crush on colin firth. it’s since been expanded to include Matthew Mcfadyen. And yes. You guessed it – nearly all men who have ever played Mr. Darcy (let me stipulate – anyone who has ever played Mr. Darcy well. I’m not including those craptastic cheesy adaptations that make it a modern day story – except maybe Bridget Jones because at least the characters are different).

I have fell so far into the Austen world after watching the movie four times over two days that today I have gone back to my flowery dress roots. You all know the outfits I’m talking about. The long flowing dresses that reach my ankles, paired with the cardigan sweaters. Oh yeah. We’re back to that.

I waxed on and on about the symbolism in Austen’s social satire and how nothing, despite all of our progress, has really changed in our endeavor to find a husband in want of a wife in an email to my friend Jim, who may be the only man I know that would actually read Austen. Jim was an English major as well, and quotes Marcus Aurelius. He was also a pm with me at uhc and we met while traveling for work with some interesting characters. It was a fine bonding moment, and I consider him one of the brightest people I have ever met. In that whole carrot, coffee bean, egg thing, he’s totally the coffee bean.

My husband thinks I’m funny, if slightly whacky about all of this Austen-craziness, and yet, he may also be a wee bit concerned. He laughs at my diatribe about what is wrong with the world today, and he’s a little worried about how far I’m taking this return to Austen. Yesterday, in blockbuster, when I tried to pick a new movie, I made a b-line to Emma and Mansfield Park. I looked, but they didn’t have Persuasion.

And yesterday, I started to re-read it for what may be the fourth time in its entirety. There are parts of it that I’ve re-read at least a dozen times. Those of you out there know the chapter… 34…

“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it…”

Ah the passion. The heat. The language! If you add in the accent, it’s all too much for me.

I confess, I cannot be funny in the modern way after being so obsessed with 19th century literature, and now that I’ve let my inner-nerd show, I’ll go back to telling the stories of crazy things that happen to me throughout the day. Like when I went to the thrift store the other day and there was a 6 foot tall transvestite behind me in line, and she was infinitely better dressed than me.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Happiness is… no more boxes to unpack

New couches: check
Electronics all set up: check
18 spider plants finding a windowsill or shelf to live on: check
Pretend Husband to make dinner every night so I don’t have to: check
A cute little dog to complete the picture: still working on that one

Hear that? That’s the sound of domestic bliss in the new homestead. It’s a sound I haven’t heard for more than a month as I’ve packed up my apartment, bribed friends to help haul the junk to charity and the treasures to the new cottage, unloaded all the boxes into the tiny living room, moved things around (sometimes moving the same box around the room half a dozen times) and then unpacked everything into (approximately) where it belongs.
It’s not completely done (and I’m not sure it ever will be!) but the place resembles a cute home more than it does the inside of a storage container. It’s not quite ready for the cover of “Cottage Living” magazine, but it works. With brightly painted walls, some funky furniture and the $20 rug (the bargain of the century), it’s all I need. (Oops, better add the PH into that equation just in case he ever decides to finally read the blog.)
In any case, it has everything needed to entertain, relax and watch a movie, cook a feast for four or engage in a Battleship tournament… who could ask for anything more?

Friday, March 03, 2006

@#%@#% snow.

snow-#@$!-angels my left foot.

three hour commute. slush. ice. suv's doing fishtales. no plows. bad drivers.

i hate the snow.

in other news, i made norwegian pastries today with j, who took the day off from work. he's currently napping. i'm currently working. well, intermitently working.

i'm also quizzing my friend via aim over song lyrics, so i'll do the same for you. And no fair cheating using google, since I may have gotten some of these wrong....

1. I was waking up in that sleepy little town. In her eyes, my world came so alive.
2. When I was born, they looked at me and said: "what a good boy, what a smart boy, what a strong boy."
3. I was five and he was six, we rode on horses made of sticks.
4. i like the sushi because it never touched the frying pan.
5. Oh don't get me wrong, it's not that I knock it it's just that I am not in the market for a boy who loves only me...
6. I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.
7. I'd be lying if i said i was completely unscathed. I might be proving you right with my silence or my retaliation...... how can i explain this to my children if i had them?

Good luck!

Thursday, March 02, 2006

A walk down (a snow-covered) memory lane

I’m at work while the snow gently falls past the window (not MY window because my office has nothing but a poster of a window, but I’ve ventured out of my dark little space to peer out other people’s windows). Seeing the snow and having spent part of the morning at a local elementary school, I’ve been reminded about how fun “snow days” were growing up.
The kids at the school I visited were off the wall when the snow began falling. Combine that with the announcement that school was going to be dismissed early and I’m not sure any work got done for the last two hours of the school day. I’ve actually had nightmares about being a teacher, so I think an early dismissal would have sent me over the edge.
Anyway, the cardinal rule of snow days is… hot chocolate. I don’t think you’re allowed to stay home from school unless you promise to indulge in a mug of it (and the more marshmallows, the better!) We had a pond in our yard growing up, which is naturally where the neighborhood kids would congregate for skating, ice hockey games and all sorts of craziness. The two things we could count on were the fire my dad always started in a barrel to give us a place to warm up and the lobster pot of hot cocoa my mom always provided.
Another rule is, you have to spend time outside. It’s not fair to only sprawl out in front of the television or even curl up with a good book. You don’t have to shovel or clear off your car or do anything considered “work,” but you have to find a way to enjoy the snow. Build a fort, make a snow angel, lob a snowball at a neighbor, push your friend’s face into the snow, suck in as much fresh air as you can.
Which brings me to the last steadfast rule of snow days: relax. After exhausting yourself playing outside, take a bath, warm up in front of the stove or heater, make the above-mentioned hot chocolate, find that book you’ve been meaning to read, pull out a favorite old movie, take a nap and enjoy the fact that you didn’t have to go to work… um, I mean, school… that day.
It’s not a phrase you hear much since we’ve gotten to the point where we worry more about the evening commute in slippery conditions than stockpiling snowballs for a neighborhood war, but I’m going to say it anyway. “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!”

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

KAT and SJ on baking

From an email exchange today:

sj: I'll bring dessert if we come down for dinner. I have to practice a recipe I want to do for easter, so maybe you guys will be my guinea pigs.
I need to find dry yeast, cardamom and cornstarch, which I may or may not have. I also have to figure out how to convert ounces to actual measurements.

KAT:I'm a little wary about a dessert that calls for dry yeast and cardamom (especially not having a clue what cardamom is!) But your stuff usually turns out well so I'm willing to take a chance on it. I'll go to the jewelry party with you if you'd like the company. I don't know where the cheesecake plan comes in, but I'm not going to argue with it (weren't you craving cheesecake a couple of weeks ago?) Maybe I can even make a cheesecake and we can meet the guys for cards... just an idea.

sj: Have you ever made a cheesecake before? I've never made a real one, just the cheater kind that you can use the ready made crusts for. i do have a springform pan, however.. I've only ever made my flourless chocolate cake with it though.

KAT: think I made a cheesecake with my mom once. And I've made the cheating kinds. In any case, how hard can it be? :) I'm thinking it's pretty difficult to mess up cheesecake because, regardless of the consistency, you still end up with cheese (good!) and cake (good!) I'm willing to give it a try.

sj: It's more that you need to be careful about the temperature, or it will crack or sink. Or not set right, or something. i'm not a stickler for appearances, though, since I like to use frosting to fuse things together. (that rule applies to life in general -- oh look, I broke my shoe. Pass me the Duncan hines..)

If you are making a cheesecake, my request is for chocolate chip.