Grape Did It

Just had a bath and frankly, not all that happy about it

And...almost late for work, again, from writing

The cold? It miraculously disappeared which, yes, does make me feel like a fraud and perhaps it was just allergies. Whatever, the house is still freezing.

Last night before Bud got home from work I kept walking to the fridge, yanking it open and staring inside. Asking it what I should make for dinner. No? No ideas? Yes, then we WILL go out to eat. And then feeling kind of guilty for making excuses to eat dinner out and then yanking the fridge open again. I eventually threw some pork chops from the freezer into the fridge to thaw, as my commitment to cooking them SOON, and told Bud we needed to go get dinner.

Let me get this out of the way first: I have never been a sushi eater. Before the inevitable chorus of, "WHAT? but it is SO GOOD!" I'll beat you to the punch and say, "I HATE FISH." I do. And I have tried and tried to like it because of the all-importants on Oprah and other gods-of-what-we-should-all-be-doing, letting me know about Omega-this and Omega-that being the secret to good health and youth. And the magazine articles that say if you don't eat enough fish (but not the kind with mercury, stay away from THAT at all costs) you will probably wrinkle up and die. Bud can attest to the fact that I have tried. There's a place in Blacksburg that serves famous fish tacos  and I went and I ordered the  fish, boldly telling myself today would be the day. Today I would eat fish, strap on my running shoes, become  a snowboarder, rock climb and drink an organic smoothy. Today I would become that hot woman in the athletic ads. But sadly, no. I gagged down about a quarter of it before tearfully offering Bud the rest. And the tears were not from sadness, rather a reflex of my throat closing. I just don't think I'm MEANT to eat seafood people.

So, sushi. No matter how fashionable the people who eat it look, I just couldn't. Could drink a little sake, can use chopsticks ok, but no raw fish. Until last night when, can you believe it, I can get VEGETARIAN SUSHI! And I love it. The wasabi! The pickled ginger! The soy sauce! I have found yet another love affair to be had with food. We found a little restaurant just a couple miles away that serves all kinds of rolls including the veggie roll and the tempura veggie roll. The dumplings were tasty also and helped round out the almost-all vegetable meal (for me. Bud had a rainbow roll which included several different types of fish, he would probably make an excellent snow boarder also).

Now I'm in the market for a good bamboo mat and simple sushi recipes. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

More fun than watching TV

"...just being ironical and funny."

"I actually hate when people use that word."

"It's not even a word."

"No, I know. I think that's why I hate it. They use it a lot on TV. 'I was being ironical,'"

"Yeah, well, get over yourself."

"Thanks. So did you ever tell me what store your new pants are from?"

"ON. That's what I wrote before, they are from ON."

"Old Navy? Normally people would assume O-N means, on, as in, not-off."

"Right, normally they would but not in my world, not in my ironical world."

"How much were your ON pants? Were they ON sale?"

"Were they OLD NAVY sale? That doesn't make sense."

Not feeling very inspired, just a little sick

I woke up this morning, in our sub-zero apartment (but by-god I'm saving money!), and wondered why these allergies STILL hadn't gone away. I don't normally wake up sneezing from, say, dust mites (whatever those are, I just remember all my allergists growing up referred to them, on many occasions). I mean maybe if Georgia's cat Ace had snuck onto my pillow in the night, that fur ball who had so much fur it was like staring into The Abyss of Fur whenever he strolled into a room. But no, he's living in Florida now so can't blame him! Turns out hey maybe you are actually sick and have a cold. Or perhaps Ace is sneakier than I give him credit for. Either way, I'm snuffling and sneezing, which is by the way, VERY attractive as a waitress, and carrying around limp tissues like my old babysitter who was about one hundred and twenty when she babysat us back in the day. Too bad she wasn't our sitter when we got a little older. As young as we were, we were just stupid enough to always do what she said. The frail old lady said get in bed? BETTER DO IT!

So I'm just sucking down some coffee, getting ready to hack in people's faces as I take their order and will hopefully be feeling more up to writing tomorrow or the next day. Or if you're really lucky, I'll get the disk from my mom and you will finally see the Horror that Was my Childhood Look.

Working on his God complex

Hm, I prescribe a heaping dose of ego

Halloween party

Convincing, aren't we?

In the full glory of the unitard I found at Goodwill. No need to make me feel worse about this picture than I already do.

Mike Rowe, on Dirty Jobs

"I'll bet he gets a lot of fan mail from the ladies, since this show became so popular."

"Yeah, 48 year old women saying how much they looove him."

"No, no I'd bet he gets younger mail too. He's a pretty good looking guy...he might've even gotten something from a 26 year old in Alabama."

Pause.

"You think he's hot?"

"Well, he's a good looking guy. Not my dreamboat like you, though."

"HUGH?! Who's HUGH?"

"YOU, I SAID YOU."

Our wedding invitation design

I have been meaning for a long time to post pictures of our wedding invitations. I worked with a graphic designer who managed to capture the essence of what I was thinking with very little information from, or about me. I think that is talent, reading someone, on an artistic level. She is someone I know, sister of a friend of my sister's, so I knew her work was good. They turned out spectacularly, such that I now have a wedding invitation I would actually frame. Something different than those cream and black print, ultra-flowery, not-me kind. The kind I thought were inevitable but, sigh, would print up and send out anyway. Like so many things I discovered from having my own wedding, it is possible to combine tradition with your own desires and personality. Imagining everyone else's weddings made me cringe. Not because they weren't lovely in their own way but because none of them felt like me, my life, my relationship with my future husband. I think it's a little like the identity crisis women go through when they turn into mothers. Wait! Back it up! I never promised to wear my hair in a frizzy ponytail and leave the house with chipped nail polish or no polish at all! I WILL NOT DRIVE A MINIVAN. Or the desire I now have to yell at teenagers, "I invented cool, you dumbass."

And wow am I off topic again! Whee!

Here they are. And if you find yourself in need of extra cool thank you notes, or a particularly special party invite, check out her website. Or just check it out for the sheer fun of looking at pretty things.

If you'll notice, the graphic on these looks a little like my banner. That is because, shortly after deciding on a final design, a friend of mine from work brought me a small bouquet of "monkey grass" and it does, look remarkably similar.

Whole new categories

When I get REALLY organized, I am going to start new categories on this blog. And one of them will be: Bumper Stickers I see On the Road while Driving (do you also love arbitrary capitalization?). Under this new category will be this gem I just saw, driving home from the book store: A man is not a financial plan. WHAT? What was the point of getting married then? I feel duped.

Trust me, it's perfectly safe

"Please give me your social security number and address."

"Ok..."

"And you were born in 81? 80?"

"80. You know that. What was that for?"

"I'm listing you as my secondary beneficiary. If Peter and I both die, my money goes to you."

"Yessss! Watch your back, bitch!"