31 August 2006

I am now a brunette

What was I before, you ask? I started out life strawberry blond, then a nice light to dirty blond that always bleached out white in the summers. Then it become most definately dirty blond and I would sometimes get highlights if there was a special event or something coming up. Then I started coloring it "honeydip" which was cheaper than getting highlights and just made my natural color look nicer. Then I got pregnant, and my hair got beyond blah. "Poop brown" was what I called it, although it was really just an ashy brown with some blond still on the ends from where it was growing out (um, last haircut was...a year ago? Maybe a little more?). In need of some drama in my life (as if the summer of unemployment, broken AC, and plumbing adventures wasn't enough), I went crazy and bought "chocolate caramel." It's nice. And tasty. And I forgot to tell Jim I was doing this...oops. We'll see if he notices.

30 August 2006

Family matters

She is something like a 5th cousin*. Wondering if that makes me cool by association, capable of hanging with the hip British set, those tall lanky girls who run around all day in their Stella McCartney like I run around in my Old Navy cargo pants and tank top. If I'm really feeling crazy, I'll layer TWO tank tops of DIFFERENT COLORS and maybe throw on my one funky necklace. Which means: No, I am so not cool enough by association to ever even be on the same continent with my distant relations. Besides, we can't afford the air fare.

*I'd have to see a better family tree, but I think my great-great-grandmother was cousins with one of her great-great-grandparents.

29 August 2006

Busy

Obviously a lot of playing went on in a very short time before this nap:
Note: One sock is on, the other is at the other end of the crib, where she started out about 150 degrees from her current position. If I had a before picture, you'd also see that the assortment of stuffed friends were neatly lined up together. And if I did this everytime I went to sleep, my husband would shoot me.

Clean bill of health

Check up at the pediatritian went well today. 27 inches long and 17lbs 4oz! Turns out she's not as chubby as we thought...she's 80th percentile in height, but only 50th in weight. Curious. It was so sad how she was hamming it up for the nurse who was about to jam needles into her fat little theighs for this visits round of shots. But, like the trooper she is, she was back to smiles and giggles by the time we were back in the waiting room and promptly fell asleep in the car.

Not that I had any doubts about her health, she's a happy kid and everything seems fine. It's just REALLY nice to hear she's A-OK from someone who knows. Like getting a report card for your parenting. So happy I'm passing. She's much easier than chemistry or AP calculus...

28 August 2006

Shocked

It's official: I have an estranged brother. He sent my parents an email saying he doesn't want them contacting him. Evidently they screwed up his life by making him go to church and do swimming (What? He was talented enough to make it to States? It's not like the pushed him to swim and he sucked at it...). Now he wants to run his own life. I'm angry, upset, mad, pissed off, and really really sad for my parents all at once. Yet part of me wants to gloat and say "Ha! I'm the good kid!" Still, I know I'm not perfect, I just did a better job at hiding the things my parents would hate while still keeping in contact with them. I stopped talking to them somewhere around 9th grade about anything to do with boys and a social life. I continue to think it's odd that my grandmother has 2 brothers (actually, just one, as one died last year) that I've never met. They send Christmas cards and occasional phone calls. I don't know why. I was happy that at least my brother and I, while not bestest friends or anything (that 6 year age difference only started shrinking recently), weren't like that. Hopefully his estrangement won't last long. Hopefully he's got some really good influences over there in the Air Force that will make him reflect on things. It's in God's hands now.

26 August 2006

Interesting

I sat down to have a half grapefruit this morning, and as I dug in, I noticed that I go about spooning out the grapefruit innards one wedge at a time, but every other one until there are none left. Bizarre. Wasn't even thinking about this untill I looked down halfway through and noticed it, and despite it being ages since I've even had a grapefruit, I vaguely remembering eating my grapefruit this way growing up. Even more proof that I'm just weird.

24 August 2006

It's official...sort of

My request to work part time from home has been approved. At least for now, and at least till the end of the contract, which is in 6 weeks. And I still haven't meshed out the details with my contractor, so there's always that. Not that I expect that to be an issue, I just don't know exactly who I'm supposed to talk to and about what. And I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to let it be known that I now work part time from home. What I do know is that I am on task for 20 hours a week. I also know that it will be a rare week that I have 20 hours worth of work to do. I figure as long as I'm getting everything done that is asked of me (same as when I was working 40 hours a week, and spending at least half of that surfing the internet from my cube...) then we're golden.

So I guess there is a moral to our summer time drama: Sometimes God needs things to be just so for His will to take effect, and while waiting for His perfect timing, you sometimes have to put up with a lot of shit in the meantime. I'm hoping that's what the moral of our story is, because if the bottom falls out again, I don't know what I'll do. Probably just drown my sorrows in more chocolate ice cream, but we all know that that's not getting me anywhere.

23 August 2006

My therapist will be so proud

After ruminating on the notion of 'fear' in my life over the past few days, I got thinking more when out and about today. I made up all sorts of reasons why I deserved a little Baja Fresh for lunch, seeing as how I've read their nutritional info and don't let the 'Fresh' fool you - there is nothing healthy there, except mayble a salad, but only if you order it sans cheese and guac. I'm trying to lose the rest of this baby weight (ok, the baby weight is gone, I know these extra pounds are because of all the self-medicating with chocolate ice cream I've done over the past year). I decided that since I'm home, I will re-start the old diet this week. Um, yeah. While I haven't been totally bad, sneaking handfuls of Lucky Charms is just a no-no, especially when there is no one home to sneak them from.

Today, driving home with my chicken fajitas next to me, I realized I'm afraid of dieting and having it not work. I've had enough situations in the last 2 years where my body has failed me (we can start with the uncooperative cervix at Natalie's coming out party and work backwards to the thyroid gland that started going wacko a year before she was conceived). I'm so afraid that if I give this diet my all, and it doesn't work, I'll be worse off than when I started. Yeah, I may be down a few pounds, but it may have taken me a year to do it and psychologically, I just can't comprehend how crushed I will be.

In the meantime, I hate my body. So does half of the women in Amercia. I'm fairly confident regardless of my current size in a good pair of jeans, a shirt that hides any bulges, and some kick ass shoes. But shopping to find something to wear to Natalie's dedication in less than 3 weeks? Depressing. There is nothing out there that doesn't make me look like a sutffed sausage in pretty packaging. That's what drove me to the fajitas.

We have nothing to fear

When did 'fear' become such a big part of my life? I remember growing up, I was fearless. I picked up bugs, played in the mud, frolicked in the ocean, jumped out of tree houses, actually anticipate airplane trips, wore crazy outfits, followed the beat of my own drummer. Why was I able to do all this? Was it the innocense of youth? The strong, protective arm of my father never that far away? Now I feel like 'fear' has overpowered me. The other night a racoon or squirrel was in the attic. I'm hoping he was really on the roof, but it sure did sound like it was right above our bedroom. Hope he's not dead and rotting up there right now. Could make for a gross chore when Jim goes up to put more insulation up there this fall. Anyway, back to fear. So this critter was up there somewhere, and at 3 in the morning I had worked myself into such a state of fear I was sweating in my sheets. Petrified that it was something more than just a wildly lost rodent trying to find its way home, I couldn't sleep.

I'm afraid to fly and will cry upon take-off without even trying. I remember being in the hospital, recovering from my c-section and thinking "Holy shit - we're going to have to fly to Texas for Christmas in 10 months with a BABY? How the hell am I supposed to be knocked up on benadryl and vodka and take care of an infant?" Bugs gross me out to no end now, and I'm so so so thankful I have a husband I can make do all the icky work for me. I won't go into the ocean or a lake any deeper than a point at which I can no longer see my feet, for fear of all things slimy and wet and shark related. I can work myself up into a tizzy just going to the doctor for the fear that something terrible is wrong. Last night I dreamt that some friends were making my go skydiving. I woke up when we were all up in the air in the plane before anyone could push me out. And I couldn't go back to sleep. I'm afraid of change, I'm afraid of judgement, I'm afraid of what's to come. It's paralyzing, really. I feel like a big wus and hate myself even more for it. I am thankful I have a relationship with God beyond just going to church on Sunday mornings, and that when there is a critter in the attic or I'm on a plane about to take-off, I can find solace in prayer and that calms me down. Still, I don't like that there is so much 'fear' in my life. It's something I need to work on, but I don't quite know how to do that. Hopefully before the next time I have to get on a plane.

21 August 2006

How to tire out a 6 month old

You simply have to get her so excited with life that she flops asleep in the middle of her lunch time bottle. A trip to the coffee shop worked wonders, as there were ceiling fans to watch spinning, mommy to chew on, and waiters and bartenders to flirt with. Her eyes went back in their sockets when we got in the car, she slept the whole way home, got up long enough to have her bottle and nurse a little, and is now sacked out in her crib listening to Mozart, where I expect she'll stay sleeping soundly for at least another hour. So worth the drive downtown for a peaceful afternoon. Me? I'm a dork. I'll be cleaning closets. Real Simple or one of those organizational shows on TLC should hire me. I've done wonders when it comes to creative storage solutions for our house (AKA the 2 bedroom apartment with den and a yard).

20 August 2006

Ask me about my weekend...

I am now the crazy lady. After running outside to ask the neighbor's roofers if they can come over to my house and see if there is a way to shut off the water and make sure it hasn't leaked between the walls, I'm sure people were sniggering at me, all sopping wet in my green flannel bathrobe that probably still has breast milk stains on it from Natalie's first 6 weeks of life (aka the Mommy-was-starving-the-baby-because-she-can't-produce-enough-milk-even-though-the-baby-nurses-All-The-Time phase). It all started as I was getting out of the shower, and the cold water faucet CAME OFF IN MY HAND. Not just the knob, but the whole 6 or 7 inches of plumbing apparatus that goes behind it. "Fire hydrant" is an accurate description of what came next. Following by lots of yelling 'JIM!!!' (who had just left for the gym) and a handful of 'SHIIIIIIT's and 'OH FUCK's. Then running in a towel to get our tenant, who might have seen my nakid arse as I was dropping the towel to switch into the robe to go find a neighbor.

Turns out there is no shut off valve for just the bath, so the whole house had to be turned off while we jammed the pipe back in. Couldn't use the cold water in the tub/shower, though, so getting ready for church this morning was a blast. Fortunately I had had that fateful shower on Saturday, so I was clean, relatively speaking. Natalie got a sink bath, the kitchen counters were cleaned thanks to her splashing, and Jim took a bath, but as we could only fill the tub with hot water, he had to fill it and then wait for it to be cool enough to get in it. This included pouring a couple of pitchers of cold water and all the ice cubes from the freezer in there. Nevertheless, we were late. Oh! But the bathroom floor is clean. That's what happens when you have a fire hydrant in your shower and 2 inches collects on the floor.

Nice weekend, huh? A big ass gin and tonic with lime made it all better.

18 August 2006

At last

I'm HOME. Feels so good. Totally rocking my world. The nesting instinct is kicking in, though, and I have a feeling that by next week at this time, all closets will be cleaned and rearranged, including the storage space under the basement stairs. In the meantime, there will also be much playing with the babe and enjoying the sleeping in. Till at least 7. Which is huge considering I've been getting up around 5:15am every weekday for the past 4 months.

So weird

It's my last day at work. The larger work population doesn't know I'm leaving. Things are still up in the air about working part time from home, even though it's actually looking like that will fly. So I'm not handing off any files or documents or tasks to anyone, I'm just not going to be here on Monday, or any other Monday for that matter. I'll still be reachable via email and phone, so I'll still be working unofficially part time from home till something formal is signed off on, it's all just strange. This office is known for it's to-do's, it seems anything is a reason to have cake (remember that Seinfeld episode where Elaine's office has cake all the time? Yea, I've thought about taping that episode a showing it at one of our many functions. But then again the cakes and food are usually homemade and really tasty, so I can't say I detest said functions all that much). But not today, not for me. If it does become official that I'm working part time from home, I will be in the office, probably once a week or so, to drop off/pick up/chat with my boss (who is so cool he flat out told me he doesn't mind if I bring Natalie with me). So I'm not disappearing forever. But then again, it might not work out and then I'll have to come in one last time to take care of handing off all my stuff. Who knows. Regardless, the pair of fancy sandals under my desk and my pictures and handlotion and coffee mug will be coming home today.

It's just a weird day.

17 August 2006

Honored

Gene Weingarten wrote me back! I feel so special...His online chats are my raison d'etre every Tuesday. Tuesday is by far the crappiest day of the week - Monday has all the franticness of being "Monday" and therefore usually ends quickly, Wednesday is hump day, Thursday is one day away from Friday, and Friday is, well, Friday. Tuesday's got nothing. Except Gene, and his chats, and discussions of breast size, bathroom habits, visible panty lines, proper grammar, comics, and pretty much the humor of everyday life. I missed his chat this past Tuesday, what with the lack of A/C and living like refugees at other people's homes, but was able to read the chat transcript on Wednesday, where I discovered the weekly poll was about breast size. Highly academic in nature, I assure you. Reminded me of my favotire movie, and on a lark, I emailed Gene.

I wrote:

Mike Myers best movie* is "So I Married an Axe Murderer." It has so many great lines, one of the best being:

Harriet: "Charlie, what do you look for in a woman?"
Charlie (Mike Myers): "I know everyone always sense sense of humor, but I'd have to go with breast size."


Priceless, and I can't believe I missed last weeks chat and couldn't submit it. At my wedding, we tried to script it into a toast given by the best man (my husbands brother) about something the groom told him about me, the bride. But we couldn't pull it off. Would have been worth it for the priceless look of shock on my grandparents faces (grandpa wouldn't have gotten the reference but would have LOVED it, while grandma probably would have had a stroke because someone said "breast" out loud in mixed company), as well as the joy of seeing those handful of friends who love the movie, too, falling out of their chairs because they are laughing just that hard.

Also, on the breast sized based poll, you should have had a third category for women, along the lines of "porn star sized bazongas." As a C-cup, I fit with the C- and D-cup women, but next to my mom, a sweet cherubic woman who is somewhere around an F-cup, I am but a carpenter's delight in comparison.

A humble panty slinger,
Katie


*I may be biased because it was my and my best friends favorite movie in college to watch when we were stressed, and usually over a couple of drinks when the studying session became a lost cause around 2am.


Gene wrote back:


I like that movie.

Wo-man.... Whoa man!

Do you know there IS a size f? One of my close friends, a young, slim woman, is a size F. She is writing a story about it.

Sweet!

16 August 2006

Funny

I saw a woman this morning out walking. Pretty average looking, middle aged mom type. Fit, slender, working up a good sweat at 6am. But she was wearing a Hooter's t-shirt. She did not have hooters at all. I can only imagine this was one of three things:

1) She just really likes the wings

2) Her family has a sick, warped sense of humor and got it for her as a gift

3) There was a luggage mix up at the airport and some Hooter's girl was left to wear mom jeans on her vacation

15 August 2006

Endless summer

It's been about 64 hours since our A/C broke. Sunday wasn't so bad, and it cooled off enough at night so that sleeping was actually rather pleasant. Yesterday we lasted through the morning, then did some errands and came home to find the house at 83 degrees. Windows are open, curtains are strategically closed, fans are blowing, and yet when bedtime came around (after spending the afternoon and evening like refugees at a friends house), the temp was up to 87. We slept in the basement. Jim got the futon since he had to go to work today and Natalie and I got the floor. It was a joy, honestly. Never has my back been this crooked and I don't think I've functioned on this little sleep since I was in college and trying to study for finals AND practice with the crew team for the big end of the year regatta in Philly (Dad Vail). This morning, when it's 7:30, the thermostat says 81, and you are dripping sweat, what would you do? Pack up toys, diapers, books, change of clothes, formula, lunch, and head to starbucks till your friends all go to work and you can sneak back into their house with your spare emergency key? Yup, you guessed it. Friends rock, though, and I even called before hyjacking Lisa's laptop (hi Lisa!!). I'm supposed to be "working from home" so I suppose checking that pesky work email would be nice.

Anyway, I'm just so beat down right now. Kind of feel like Job, except without all the destruction of crops and killing of family. Don't know how he managed it, but despite feeling beat down, my faith in God and His provision isn't failing. I'd kind of like it if He'd stop trying to teach us lessons or something, but whatever. He provided a super fun elderly neightbor who works with commercial heating/cooling units who is in the process of fixing ours at cost. He seemed insulted that we wanted to pay him for his labors, because "For neighbor? This is what I do!" So it'll really cost us just parts and a big batch of cookies I think. And that is surely God's doing. I just hope God's will includes having it all fixed by this afternoon like hoped so we can sleep in our bed tonight, since I really have to go to work tomorrow.

13 August 2006

Venting is healthy, part 2

A month ago, life was a little crazy. Since then, it's still been crazy.

Jim got a job
Car passed inspection
Eye infection came back
Went to hot dermatologist
Moles gone wild checked and removed
Moles really hadn't gone wild, just thinking about it

Still can't fit into any clothes
Had $300 worth of dental work done
Went back and spent $300 more on the other side
Teeth no longer bite the same on each side, must go back a 3rd time
Did I mention Jim got a job?
Still no word on my job...
Still no word on how we'll pay the mortgage next month...
Jim got a new tire
AC broke
New tire went flat 24 hours later
Baby had her first cold
Baby gave her cold to me and Jim
Um, still trying to focus on the good of Jim's new job...
Everyone else went or is going on vacation
We have none planned
I get to stay home with my baby starting some this week
Have to pay a babysitter for 2 days this week
Must take money out of savings to pay babysitter
But babysitter is super sweet and a possible new friend
We still have a roof over our heads
We are (reasonably) healthy

11 August 2006

She's a mutt

So we figured out what our daughter "is" last night. Harder than one might think. My family all came fresh off the boat no earlier than the 1890's, while Jim's family has been here since a few boats after the Mayflower it seems, which is harder to trace who came from where (we know most of them were in Oklahoma and Texas, but just not before that). Taking all that into account, we think this is pretty acurate: We also decided that if she marries someone who is an Afro-Asian-Latino who grew up in the middle east, we'll just have to change the name of Thanksgiving dinner to United Nations Pot-Luck.

10 August 2006

Sad but true

The only way I can guarantee my daughter will open her mouth, when I'm heading towards it with a spoon full of rice cereal and carrots, is to sing the meow mix song to her. I tried substituting "yum" for "meow," but I think she likes when I say "meow" the best.

09 August 2006

Happy Half Birthday, Natalie!

Six months ago today, I was walking around the office with a leaking amniotic sac and heading to the hospital by myself, 5cm dilated, while Jim scrambled to wrap up things at work since he knew he wouldn't be back for a few days, as he was about to become a DADDY. You were this helpless little thing that scared the pants off me; I remember trembling in the hospital when the realization hit that we had to take you home and do this on our own, without any nurses to come running at the push of a button. You didn't do much but nurse, and you snorted like a truffle pig when trying to find my nipple. You were rather scawny, with long skinny chicken legs, and we spent so much time together topless, just resting chest to chest, feeling each others warmth and heart beat.

So much has changed in your short life span that you have no clue about; and finally, things are starting to look up. Daddy starts a new job on Monday, and I'll get to stay at home and take care of you like I've always wanted. At last! I'll still be working, just not as much and mostly when you are sleeping (even if that means getting up at 5am to put in a few hours before you wake). We need the money, so it's not going to be all fun and games. There may even be times where you have to holler for a few minutes in your crib because you want out but I need to make a quick important phone call. But hopefully that will change and someday in the future I'll be my own boss and set my own rules. But for now, this is how it has to be, and it's a lot better than me having to leave your sweet self every morning to trudge to work and spend my day sitting in a cublicle.

Six months old, and you are a turning into a vibrant little girl. Everyone who meets you says the same thing: "She's so alert and bright eyed!" You prefer to observe the wild world around you, and then tell us all about it later when you are back in the comfort of your house or your room. But when you are angry/upset/frustrated, you've taken to curling your feet in and rubbing them against your bare legs like an angry little cricket when you cry. It's too funny and makes we want to pick you up and comfort you even more. You can also roll from you back to your tummy, and I burst with pride every single time you do. I can't imagine how proud I will be when I see you walk down the aisle at your high school graduation. You have always been a cuddler, and I cherish those moments when you are quiet, on the verge of drifting off, curled up in my arms making sweet little baby noises to no one in particular. I could spend all day tickling you just to hear you laugh, as it's the best sound by far in the whole wide world. Whatever comes our way, we've bonded as a family through some tough times and I know we can face whatever else God has in store for us.

08 August 2006

Deep thoughts

While sitting in the dentist's chair for the second time in as many weeks, having horrendous torture performed on my mouth for which they were going to make me pay (No wonder one hears so many jokes about dentists and sadomasochists - it's true! I wonder if there's a National Convention of Dental Sadomasochists every year in Vegas...), I had a few thoughts.

First, that new-ish Sheryl Crow and Sting duet? Yeah, that's going to go the way of so many Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, and Lionel Richie songs of my junior high and high school years: It will become fodder for love sick teenagers to croon together at wanna-be American Idol high school talent shows for ages to come.

Second, as something that they were using on my teeth touched my tongue by accident and tasted like I was being poisoned, I thought: "Gee, our taste receptors are in our tongues. To keep people from biting their nails, they make a clear polish that tastes awful that people can put on them [Jim has used this stuff in an attempt to break his own nail biting habit.]. Why isn't there a similar substance that one can paint on one's tongue that is effective for, say, the length of a baby shower or ice cream social, that prohibits sweets from tasting oh-so good?" Think about it: Those of us with sweet tooths who are supposed to be avoiding sugar at all costs would be saved from temptation!! But the stuff would have to taste like chocolate, otherwise no one would use it.

Third, I sweat a lot when someone is using spinning and vibrating torture devices in my mouth. It was kind of gross. They should use those paper sheets like at the doctors office that roll out over the exam table and tear off when you are done.

07 August 2006

Technology kicks ass

I got to talk to my friend in Japan this morning! Woohoo! She's in the Navy (...you can sail the seven seas! In the Navy...), hasn't been stateside (or at least on the east coast) in forever, and I happened to email her at the same time she was online, so she picked up her trusty internet phone (Is it even a phone? Perhaps just a mic hooked to your computer? I so don't even know...) and gave me a ring. Here I am, sitting at work, and she just climbed Mount Fuji yesterday.

All this excitement is masking the fact that I am dreading talking to my boss(es) today about my whole work situation. It's a known fact that I hate confrontation; I have no kahones when it comes to speaking out for something I believe in. I can't even argue with friends sometimes about why I love a movie they all think is dumb. I just get snookered in and end up keeping my mouth shut. Fingers crossed that I can come across as professional and deserving of a part time work from home (aka "off site" if we're being technical) situation.

I think I might have to go throw up I'm so anxious about it.

I also use too many parenthesis (oh well).

06 August 2006

Survival Guide: Africa edition

Our pastor is from Wales, which means he has a great accent. And being Welsh technically doesn't explain his love of being grandiose - waving the sleeves of his Presbyterian robes from the pulpit, wearing a cape in the winter (think Sherlock Holmes), or trying to out sing every other person in a wedding party - but you take this brilliant man, give him a great accent, and throw in his personality and it's a trifecta of hystericalness at times.

This morning he was telling some tales from his recent trip to visit a sister church in Sudan. While there, he was informed on how to escape from the grip of a python, as they are known to drop from the trees and squeeze their pray to death. He told us you are to (read with a thick, punctuated Welsh accent): "Rrraise one's ahrms ais if to prahse the Lourd, ahnd ais the pythin curls his tail up with which to breahk your nohse, you bite dohwn upohn it, and suppooosedly, the pythin will slip off. Not thaht I had the chahnce to try, buht there you goh."

I feel so much safer now, knowing how to extract myself from the grip of a constrictor. I'll keep that in mind next time we're at the zoo, in case we learn of an escape from the reptile house.

04 August 2006

PARTY ON!!

HE GOT THE JOB!

Happy times in the aubergine house tonight! Much take out chicken was consumed with wild abandon, faux-champagne was uncorked, then drunk, then drunk some more. Ice cream was eaten out of the container. Babies waved their icey teething rings with joy, happy to giggle along in the celebrating. Which will hopefully continue later this evening once it's a little cooler and we can get busy, if ya know what I mean. Marriage is really hard, but it does have its perks. A huge cloud has been lifted. Life isn't going to be easy, I'll still be doing whatever I can to earn money for our household and we'll still have to be frugal, but our quality of life just went up like a cajillion degrees. Jim will be happy doing what he loves with nice people and close to home, I'll be home where I want to be (who cares what I'll be doing other than taking care of Natalie), and together, we can make this work.

God has provided for us this far, with the means to hang in there, and now Jim has a GREAT new job. I'm hoping this is the start of a provdential upswing, and that more good things will come our way. Not that we, as sinners, yada yada yada, deserve any of it, but as humans who have put up with a lot in the past year, it sure as heck would be nice.

I'm too sexy for...

...my cell phone. Too sexy for my cell phone, too sexy for sure...Scratch that, more like my cell phone is too sexy for me. I am feeling like a total tool this week because I am now the proud owner of a pink razor (wait a minute...I think it's "RAZR" or something) thin little flippy cell phone. My trusty got-on-a-good-deal-over-2-years-ago cell died on Tuesday. Sad day. I managed inbetween skitzo episodes to get all my phone numbers saved to the SIM card so I didn't have to send one of those lame-o emails to all my friends asking what their phone numbers are. We went to the cingular store, checked out online, and really, the little pink phone wasn't a bad deal. The main factor in the purchase was what can we get now that we know we'll still be able to get in the next few months to replace Jims. Sure, I could have gotten a sleak little black LG, but the razor was only $20 more. Plus, the multiple color options were an added bonus if we're going to have two of the same cells in the house (we have no landline - rebels, I know!). But, Jim called the silver one on the premise that the black one has a different finish that looks like it would show scratches more. What Ev. Thus, leaving me no choice but to take the pink one. Or at least that's how I'm trying to justify it.

So little chubby me, in my chinos and t-shirt and flip flops with my go-to-work backpack, who does the crossword and sudoku on the metro ride to work, who still has bad new mommy hair and needs to lose 40lbs, has the same exact phone as Carrie Bradshaw in the last episode of Sex and the City when Big calls and we find out his name is John. I should feel cooler, but I just feel like a poser. I suppose I could bring out the 4" hot pink strappy sandals before summer us over since they'd match my phone in color and attitude, but they just don't go with Old Navy khakis.

03 August 2006

Evidently, I am not alone

Steve Martin likes Paris, too. And we must have a similar sense of humor, because he has a play out called "Picasso at the Lapin Agile." Who knew? Perhaps I shall write a play and call it "Dali at the Aubergine Joyeuse." There would be lots of melting eggplants on the set.

02 August 2006

Funny

There is a meeting going on in my office today titled "CrossTalk." It's an attempt to get the different teams together to discuss the big picture of what they are all doing independantly for the overhead goal our office is committed to.

Having grown up in the church, I can't help but giggle every time I walk past the conference room (thank God I don't have to go to this meeting - sometimes being fairly low on the totem pole pays off), since "CrossTalk" to me sounds like some sort of bad youth group event focused on what the bible says about relationships or how Jesus is a model for our lives. Some sort of feel good talk that was basically supposed to keep our hands out of other people's pants. Forget challenging us spiritually or anything, they just didn't want to become the "youth group with all the pregnant girls."

[Gee, wonder why I conviced my parents to let me stop going circa 10th grade. Hmm. Wonder if my not going explains why I was one of the few who got out of dodge when it was time for college, moved to a city, lived life, traveled, and then got married. Guess which road I'd take again in a heartbeat if I had the opportity to do it all again?]

01 August 2006

Awesome

I heard the expression "Dress for the job you want, not the job you have." I've heard it before, but never really thought about it (I'm so anti-corporate, afterall). But it has new meaning for me now that I'm this close to being the stay at home mom I've wanted to be since 31 March 2006 when I found out I'd have to go back to work, otherwise we'd be selling the house and moving into a delux cardboard box down off the side of the highway.

Wondering if I can use this phrase as an excuse to wear pajamas to the office for the remainder of my time there. I am counting down the minutes till I get to spend my days hanging out with this little muchkin: