On the commute home, I noticed the guy in front of me fiddling with a Rubik’s cube and I thought ooooh, I haven’t seen one of those in a long time. Good for him. and then I drifted off to sleep.
When I opened my eyes, the guy had a Rubik’s cube cheat sheet! I couldn’t believe it, who cheats at Rubik’s cube! I was so close to telling him that, too, but I didn’t.
And the part that pissed me off the most is that you know this guy probably has a kid at home and he’s going to show off how he solved the Rubik’s cube. That’s just wrong.
Every time my birthday or Christmas comes around, I end up getting at least one gift early. Why? because boy gets so excited and wants me to know he was ahead of the game before I started dropping the hints. Endearing.
Today I got Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World! Watch out office, I’m going to be bringing in cupcakes for the next 2 mths!
But back to the early gift syndrome… After boy and I open presents, confession time starts pouring out. I think it started with the first Christmas, he wanted Max Payne, but then Kate said he wanted No One Lives Forever, so I returned Max Payne, then boy got No One Lives Forever for Kate and I said eff it, they’re both getting No One Lives Forever b/c I didn’t feel like returning it again for Max Payne. And I had to wait foreeevver until everyone opened their presents and they sat there with two copies of No One Lives Forever and I was so wound up from holding it in the whole time that I turned on the high pitch excited Al voice and rambled “b/c you said you wanted it then she said you didn’t then you got it for her and I had already made a big issue out of exchanging it and I really did get you what you want I just didn’t get it!”
And then the Brother Odd gift – boy wanted the book and I was going to get him 1st edition signed. So I put in my request to make it to boy – Odd Enough. And then Dean Koontz went and added “Odd Enough to be Odd’s Brother” and I was so thrilled about it! And then I had to wait foreeeever until St. Nicholas Day for the gift exchange and after a bottle of wine I was once again so wound up that I exclaimed in high pitch Al style “and he signed it and I asked him to out ‘Odd Enough’ but he improvised and put ‘Odd Enough to be Odd’s Brother’ and I thought it was so clever!”
And today, boy came over with a wrapped present with the explanation afterward that I had mentioned the book the other day but he had the receipt ready to hand over to prove he bought it before I mentioned it. Only he has more patience about it than I do and can contain the explanation to an indoor voice.
If you’ve seen Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang you’ll know why. Gay Val Kilmer and Robert Downey, Jr. Cracks me up every time!
Least favorite word: catechism
it’s like a religious curse word.
like finding marshmallows left over from Easter in my cabinet. Yeah, I ate 1 or 5. And I LOVED it!
The peeps are still in my freezer.
Mid-June the Birthday countdown begins. Because I LOVE my birthday!
But every year I think back on the year and judge who I am by the year passed. And 24, 25 – not stellar. Sorta stellar but not stellar. Because that’s the way it happens. But 26? I’m not going to look back. No more looking back. Except for this brief sum up, then no more looking back.
24 – Yay! finally in publishing! but referring once again to the influx of baked goods when things start to go bad, my trans fat intake probably rivaled my 4 yrs at college.
25 – Boy and I parted ways and I don’t know how I held it together, but I’m certain it aged me about 7 yrs. But the job, rockin’ it.
26 – Boy and I are better than before and I can talk about the house, the dog, the garden, the lemon tree. (I can talk about it, don’t ask me for a date.) And the job, still rockin’ it.
Did I mention that if I can keep up whatever it is I’m doing for the next 3 weeks, when I turn 26 I’ll still be able to wear the same clothes from when I was 22? And that alone makes 26 just fine by me. Did I mention I plan to partake in a ginormous cupcake to celebrate? Damn skippy I LOVE my birthday.
The down side of the neti pot:
Serious nasal leakage.
Me: “There’s realism and then there’s loving someone.”
Boy: “Yes, and I really love you.”
Me: “I hate you.”
On summer nights between 8-10 pm on a certain block in Berkeley, someone walks the sidewalk whistling so loud it echoes off the houses. It’s right at that time when the traffic noise dies down but before people start going to bed. This person whistles with vibrato and, although slightly creepy (in a Darryl Hannah Kill Bill way), it is kind of romantic. I usually stop whatever I’m doing when I hear him, mute the television, stand on the couch and peer out the blinds to put a face to the voice. And I never could see him through the shrubs. So I made him up. He became the typical old Berkeley scholar that had some kind of connection with the university with a dignified look, a tall, lean old man. And he takes evening walks after dinner up and down the street while his wife stayed home doing dishes or something cliche about that kind of stereotype.
Yesterday, coming home kind of late, I was getting out of the car when I heard him. I smiled really big over at boy and he knew why. We even stopped our conversation when we heard him. I got out of the car, probably still smiling when I looked over my shoulder, to see a rather chubby latino guy whistling away as he walked on the sidewalk. When he passed I looked over at boy and he had the same shocked grin I must have had.
Saw Knocked Up this weekend. I really like Katherine Heigl b/c her character on Grey’s said that she nests when she gets anxious and what an enlightening little moment I had there. It certainly explained the baked goods every weekend for the first 2 yrs after moving to California. So I was really happy for her that she got her own movie.
I thought it was well-written and well-cast (despite the fact that a pretty girl always ends up with the chubby guy, never the other way around.) Paul Rudd is awesome and pulls a De Niro impression out of his ass that had me raise my eyebrows at boy as if to say where the eff did that come from? I’d marry him.
Here’s my issue with the movie, though. As realistic as it is, and I applaud realism, that doesn’t mean it has to be so cynnical about relationships and marriage and kids. Realism does not equal pessimistic. And not being cynnical doesn’t mean it has to have a Hollywood ending. I just thought an example of a relationship that sorta worked where neither person was psycho would have been nice.
In any case, be prepared for the birthing Va-jay-jay shot that sneaks up on you. That’s realism.
I don’t know what’s come over me, but I’ve grown about a jillion times stronger in my convictions than I was 4 months ago. Maybe it’s hormonal, maybe it’s gynocological, maybe it’s just getting older. I hope it doesn’t go away, though. I feel brave, and while I never felt like a meek little door mouse, I can’t say I’m one to stand up for myself unless you crushed me under your overly-needy thumb. Otherwise, I tended to steer the other way, take the non-confrontational route (oooh, but that time in seventh grade standing in the gaggle of girls when I shouted out Ashley, you’re always saying other people are changing, have you ever thought that maybe it’s you with the problem? girls cheered me on, my ego glowed so bright…) Here’s what I feel strongly about – being an atheist, being a vegetarian, doing what it takes to take responsibilty for your woes (job, love, or body unhappiness – get over it and dooooo something about it already!)
And then I have to share this with all the world! Like when I met boy I rubbed it in to everyone that I found my atheist vegetarian man and that he’s an atheist vegetarian and being an atheist vegetarian is so cool and I told this to everyone and now my family thinks he’s super-liberal atheist vegetarian cult-leader that has warped my brain into atheist vegetarianism. Why couldn’t I have just said he’s really funny and makes me laugh out loud? (and just for the record, it took me 3 yrs after we met to become vegetarian and 6 yrs to decide that I am an atheist. I won’t buy your gimmick, sir, I’ll figure it out for myself.)
Why doesn’t someone slap me in the face and say tone it down, honey. (I just love it when people call me honey. I feel like Jessica Alba.)
So I have been a little over-defensive in what I have found to work for me and I keep shoving it on other people and I can’t help myself. So, I am going to try and tone it down. I’ll just judge people a little quieter.