The proverbial other shoe

Look at me, all over the shoe theme!

Today's post:  the exciting (?) conclusion of my list of 25 Things You Must Commit To Memory. 

14.  I will not work on my birthday.  Ever.  I think I got used to having the day off for it when I was in school, and then when my career took me back into education, it just stuck.  I started my new job a couple months ago and one of the first things I did was to stake out that day on the vacation calendar.

15.  I.  Love.  Sandwiches.

 "What is Joey's favorite food?"

"Sandwiches!"

Ross & Monica (David Schwimmer & Courteney Cox), Friends, "The One with the Embryos"

I love 'em.  A BLT is damn near a perfect food.  My panini press is my favorite kitchen appliance.  I'm also a big fan of creating my own combos.  Creamy peanut butter pairs surprisingly well with some weird stuff... crisp dill pickle chips; salty, smoky crumbled bacon; extra sharp cheddar cheese.  Yeah, I know:  it sounds gross and makes you wonder if I'm pregnant, but it's not and I'm not!

16.  Speaking of NOT KNOCKED UP I SWEAR, I don't have the baby fever just yet, buuuuuuut... I'm fairly certain I'm going to be a kickass mom.  I'm one of those people who genuinely enjoys being around her family and I'm excited to pass that along.  The best part (J please stop reading for a sec) is that J is the same way; his two brothers are his best friends and all three of them are fiercely protective of their little sister... so it's like I already know he'd be good at it too.  (OK J, safe to start reading again.  Thanks love!) 

17.  The reason I don't have the baby fever is that I enjoy being the combination superhero/bad influence far too much for now!  Exhibit A:  I may or may not have bought a drum set for a five year-old once.  Just saying.

They were Spider-Man drums, which made them even MORE badass.  

If a five year-old could say badass without getting scolded.

18.  I read a lot.  A LOT.  At last count I had more than 175 books.  (It was super fun to move them to the new place.)  I dated a guy in college who finally stopped going to bookstores with me because "we walk in and [my] eyes glaze over and [I] stop paying attention to [him]."  My shelves hold classics, chick lit, historical fiction, memoirs... the occasional guide to "bettering yourself"... and they're all embossed with my "from the library of" seal. 

19.  Speaking of that name embosser:  I love my middle name.  I am very particular about how it's spelled; my way is lovely and classic and the other is not.  Get it right.

20.  I almost got married once.  Like, "two weeks to the Big Day" almost.  Not going through with it was, at once, the scariest and bravest decision I've had to make in my entire life.  He's a good guy... just not the good guy for me.

21.  That little factoid is what I meant when I wrote in the first half of this list that it's nice to start fresh.  Yes, it was a big deal once upon a time, but now it's just something that happened.

22.  Runaway Bride is one of my all-time favorite movies.  *SIGH*  OK, peanut gallery, knock yourselves out.

23.  I went to an all-girls high school.  AND I LOVED IT.  We made t-shirts that said "Panther Football:  Undefeated Since 1923!!"  We didn't bother with daily make-up and ponytails were the de facto hairstyle.  More than that, though, we were immersed in an environment where women held the leadership roles.  We could ask questions without worrying what some boy would think; we were encouraged to push ourselves and stretch past the status quo.  When I got to college, not only was I incredibly well-prepared for the academics, but also, I realized that I was equipped to hold my own in any social setting... which is more than I could say for some girls, used to deferring to guys.  I know the Elms is largely responsible for my savage independent streak!

24.  Sure, it was all girls during the school day... but that didn't stop me from going to four different senior proms, at four different schools, with four different dates.  HEY-OHHHH!

25.  Live theater brings me to tears every time.  I've seen The Phantom of the Opera, RENT, Wicked, Les Miserables, The Lion King, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat... and the list of shows to see is growing as quickly as I can cross them off!

Phew.  So there you have it.  Hope you enjoyed Volume Two!

Open season!

A quick one to kick off the weekend right:

My toes are out today!  Open toe shoe weather has finally arrived!

 

Yeah, I know this is a repeat pic, but it's hard to be a bitch when your feet look this cute.  Have a good one kids!

"Huh. Surprised you didn't know that."*

If you've got a Facebook page or a MySpace account, you've encountered the meme floating out there on the interwebs that asks you to catalog 25 things about yourself that people may not know.  I wasn't going to resort to this, but I see that a few other bloggers have already done it, so I figured eh... what the hell.  Problem is, I'm a) a little strapped for time, 2) wary of boring the handful of readers I have and d) lazy,** so I'm only going to list half of them today. 

Without further ado... all kinds of crap about me!

1.  I am totally a city girl.  I love the charm of small towns; I went to college in one and I can't imagine having had it any other way... but I love the bustle and noise and crowds of a big city.  It's what keeps me from getting too homesick, now that I live in my fair state's capital.  I love driving out of the city, seeing the skyline in my rearview mirror and being able to pick out the individual buildings.

2.  As much as I love the 'bus, though, I love my 'Rowdy hometown.  No, I mean, I love it.  It is frequently misrepresented and misunderstood, but then again, most great things are.  You just need the right tour guide to get a true sense of the place.  Are you a Cleveland Cavs fan... or a basketball fan in general... or alive at all?  You may have heard of a guy named LeBron James.  Yeah:  dude went to high school four miles down the street from me.  Are those Goodyear tires on your car?  Hello, WORLD HEADQUARTERS.  It was a terrific place to grow up and I'm proud to come from there.

3.  One of the most refreshing things about moving here has been the fact that I'm starting with a clean slate.  I have friends here, and of course J's here, but other than that, very few people know my backstory... with the result that I have the remarkable opportunity to start fresh in my 30s.

4. J and I have known each other for just about our entire lives. His mom's family lived down the street from my dad's family when they were little; his dad and my uncle have been BFFs since grade school. It took us three decades to get together as a couple, though, and it was 100% worth the wait. On our first date, we were all chatty and catch-uppy, and when I got up to go to the ladies' room, the bartender smiled at J and said "so, second date's going well, huh?"  So cute.

5.  My sister and I are incapable of having a conversation without using lines of movie dialogue.  It's a sickness, really, but it's hilarious. 

6.  Speaking of her, I just recently (like, this week), admitted that I'm getting old, when I made a couple references to some old cartoons and she had no memory of them whatsoever.  I mean, sure, it was old when I saw it for the first time, but GOD, please tell me someone else out there has seen and/or remembers this!

7.  And speaking of old, I'm also the oldest grandchild on both sides of our family.  I got to do everything first until I was 24, when one of the cousins got married.  Others soon followed suit, and now I love that I'm one of the last holdouts!

8.  Red is my favorite color to wear.  I think it's partially due to my loyalty to Miami, but it's also because it takes balls to wear and the effect on people is terrific.  It could be a dress, shoes, lipstick... people want to be around a woman in red.

9.  I want Rachel McAdams to play me in the movie about my life.  She's got the name thing down and she.  Is.  Darling.

Cute much?!

10.  Given that I've worked for three universities, and that I've enjoyed those three jobs more than anything else I've done with my career, I have no choice but to concede to my mom's long-held opinion that I'm an educator at heart and I belong in this field.  I'm not about to make crazy money, but I need a cause, not just a job. 

11.   One of my favorite things to do with J and our friends is game night.  Apples to Apples, UNO, The Game of Things, whatever... it's like being a kid, but with beer this time!

12.  I have a ridiculous gift for remembering names.  It was a huge advantage when I was a recruiter; I'd meet a student once and then be able to address them by name four months later.  It got to be a running joke in the office and my colleagues started calling me Rain Man (except, you know, in a nice way).

13.  I love dogs, and cats are a close second, but the way I see it?  If I'm going to put that kind of time and energy and attention and cash into another living creature, it's going to be a kid.  It's one of the first things J and I agreed on:  we like impromptu happy hour and sleeping in wayyyyyyy more than we like picking up poop that's not our own. 

That's enough for now!  A future post will have the other half of the list. 



*Tommy Callahan (Chris Farley), Tommy Boy
**"A..., 2..., and D..." is from Home Alone***

***See?!

A fond farewell to one of Hollywood's true Lost Boys

Corey Haim, we hardly knew ye.

It's old news by now, but no less sad:  the cuter of The Two Coreys was pronounced dead early this morning of a suspected overdose.  Whether it was accidental or intentional remains to be seen, but either way... wow.  Senseless and totally preventable.

Celebrity gossip is one of my biggest guilty pleasures, particularly when it's in the form of best- and worst-dressed lists and highlights from awards show red carpets.  It's also useful as a quick pick-me-up when I'm feeling sorry for myself.  At least I can wear false eyelashes without looking like a drag queen!

It can be a bummer, though, when it turns ugly and transforms a human being into a walking punchline, as this journalist notes. 

My middle school crush on the Coreys was over almost as soon as it began, a supernova of hormones, exclamation "perfume" and Teen Beat magazine covers.  Every now and then, though, it's refreshing to remember a time when my most urgent conflict in life focused on finding room for the new posters without having to rearrange the old ones.  

Happy Wednesday, gang!  Halfway to the weekend!

mmm, smells like 7th grade!

P.S.  All you '80s kids out there might be interested in this Top Five List.  FYI:  you're going to have to fight me for Target's last copy of License to Drive.  

P.P.S.  These things happen in threes, right?  First Boner from Growing Pains, now half of the Coreys... my money's on Gary Coleman for the trifecta.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

I left my coat at home for the first time today!  And drove with the windows down!

It can only mean one thing:  spring is really here.  Sure, Ohio's been known to get a snowstorm in April, so we're not totally out of the woods yet, but it's hard to care when the clock-thermometer at the bank says 60 degrees in March.

I love the sunshine, the smell in the air, the buds on the trees and flowers... but what I love most is that spring kicks off my absolute favorite season.

It's Festival Season, kids!

One of the stereotypes of Midwestern living is that we'll celebrate anything with a festival.  My hometown and the surrounding area alone are host to a ton of fun weekends, with "guests of honor" that include (but of course, are not limited to):

Cherry Blossoms

Kite and Flight

Hamburgers (Akron claims to be is the birthplace of the burger!)

...and of course, the rib burn-offs and ethnic festivals that almost every city hosts.  Watch the Irish dance troupes one weekend, scarf up homemade cannoli the next, take a week off and then come back to mariachi bands and taco trucks! 

And oh, God, the people-watching.  Unbelievable.  These celebrations are the great equalizer of humanity.  Where on earth are you going to a toothless trailer park family rubbing elbows with a Fortune 500 exec?  In the line for a funnel cake, that's where. 

My new town played host to the annual spectacle that is The Arnold Sports Festival this past weekend.  It's the largest annual multi-sport event nationwide, and MAN, is it gross.  Congratulations to the winners... now please go away.

Start planning your summers!

"Congratulations, Universe: you win."*

I was thinking about the blog this weekend, and it occurred to me that I may come across as a bit of a complainer from time to time, and that is really not the intention.  It's kind of the opposite, actually.  I love my life and I love my 30s and I'm happy and lucky to be here and not dead or institutionalized or in jail after some of the crazy shit I pulled in my 20s.  

BUT.

Sometimes, the Universe leaves me no choice but to add to the List.  

You know which list I'm talking about.  

Everyone has one.  People who say otherwise are just big fat lying liars who lie.  I'm talking about the running tally you keep in your head of the people, places, things and circumstances that just drive you right over the edge.  

Nervous Nelly snow drivers, for one (except you Deena, hugs & kisses!).  Movie talkers, for another. And these two winners from the weekend... read on:

1.  Random girl in a tube top in March:  Sweetie:  no.  I know it's sunny out.  We're all happy to see some sunshine after what feels like forever in the gray gloom of a Midwest winter.  It is still entirely too early in the season for your sartorial choice.  I almost had to commit my own fashion faux pas of sunglasses indoors to protect my corneas from the glare off your pasty shoulders.

There are two types of people who wear their sunglasses indoors:  blind people and a-holes.  Which are you?

Play nice and cover those up until April, please.  Or, if you must leave the house like that, allow me to introduce you to my friend self-tanner (although you may want to avoid the Corey Hart Oompa Loompa look, above).  

 

2.  Jay-rusalem & Silent Bible:  Ladies, I can appreciate that you're into your church.  Fine.  Good for you.  If you catch me in the right mood and environment, sure, I'll talk faith with you.  The shoe department at Target?  Is not the right environment.  If you're speaking to me here, it better be to compliment my taste in footwear.  Otherwise:  pipe down.

And the Lord saw the woman's choice of shoes, and He was pleased.

Hrmph.

Tomorrow:  less snark, more sass.  There is too a difference!

*Jim Halpert (John Krasinski), The Office, "The Return" (Season 3, Episode 13)

You can take the girl out of Catholic school...

Heh.  Bet that got your attention.  

Here's the thing:  I love to bake.  What's not to love, really?  It's soothing and gratifying and makes the house smell great, and you can eat it. 

The problem is that I'm not that big into eating the results.  I don't really have a sweet tooth; a pint of Ben & Jerry's will last me a month.  (Salt is another story.)  And with baking, you can't ever make just one cupcake or cookie or brownie... you end up with a whole mess of them.  Given that one of my posts last week was all about healthy eating, I should probably practice what I preach. 

But the lure of those cutie pie Cookie Monster cupcakes from earlier in the week was just too much to resist!  

So I did a little research and found an outlet for my Betty Crocker urges.  The Catholic parish I belong to here in the 'bus hosts Friday night fish fry dinners during Lent, and they're always looking for donations in the form of dessert.

ENTER RACHEL!  Check me out:

They don't look exactly like the other pic (that's right: they're cuter) but I was still pretty satisfied with how they turned out.  J wasn't complaining, that's for damn sure!  My sister Erin even said "ugh, you kind of make me want to barf, in a good way."  I could have stopped there, but I was on a roll, and I upped the ante with a batch of red velvet cupcakes too.

I drove extra carefully on the way to work this morning, so as not to disturb the trays of sugar shock in my backseat, planning on a lunch hour delivery.  

And I made it all the way to the church parking lot before it happened. 

I didn't see the pothole, and I took the turn a little too fast, and my little tank came to a stop faster than I intended... and a dozen cupcakes ended up on my car floor.  Frosting side down, natch.  I heard the smush before I saw the damage, and I shouted - no, I shrieked:

Ohhhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudge. 

Only I didn't say fudge.  I said the word, the big one, the queen mother of dirty words, the f-dash-dash-dash word.*

And that is precisely when I realized that the church shares its parking lot with the parish school, and that it was noon recess, and that approximately ninety grade school kids were outside romping around in the sunshine.

Boy, nothing brings a game of Red Rover to a halt like a woman yelling obscenities.



*Ralphie (Peter Billingsley), A Christmas Story

In like...

...this kid:

Aw!

YOU GUYS.  There was sunshine today!  And chirpy little birds all over the place, and clear skies, and I swear it even smelled like spring out there.

It's so much easier to be nice to people when the weather cooperates, isn't it?  I had a full schedule of student appointments today and not ONCE did I vow to drink my lunch.  (To be fair, it's a dry campus so that makes the vow a little easier, but still.)  Even the street people that usually lurk around our building were pleasant. 

Really, though.  How can you not feel like a nicer person with this

 

and this

 

and this

going on around you!?

Fingers crossed that the other half of the adage just kind of forgets to show up.  Easter egg hunts aren't nearly as fun in a blizzard.  (Plus there's the whole Twilight saga connection to the lion and lamb imagery, and I would very much prefer not to have to address that issue.)

Hope it was nice today, wherever you are! 

Lean Cuisine can suck it.

I knew I shouldn't have gloated about my late mornings last week.

All hell broke loose at the office today... half an hour before I was due to go home.  

Of course it did.

When I finally found sanctuary at J's place, I was greeted with the homey smell of garlic bread wafting from the oven, [lowfat turkey] meatballs simmering in sauce, and a glass of pinot noir waiting for me by "my spot" on the couch.  Awesome.

Totally shameless 100% NON-guilty pleasure numero uno:  anytime J cooks dinner.

 Crisis averted!

I'm gonna need a bigger Easy Bake Oven.

"I'm gonna be the mom that makes the world's best chocolate chip cookies!"

"Our kids are gonna be fat, aren't they."

Monica & Chandler (Courteney Cox & Matthew Perry), Friends, "The One With Phoebe's Cookies"

All right.  I will be the first to admit that this is ridiculous and a completely selfish and irrational reason for wanting to have kids, but... LOOK!

nom nom nom

And LOOK!

 

That is a CAKE!  Made to look like LEGOS!

Somebody around here better start having babies, because I am just DYING to get them all sugared up with this cute crap.

*finger on nose*

NOT IT...

School is in SESSION.

J and I celebrated the anniversary this weekend with a couple dates that included DQ Blizzards and a lazy Saturday afternoon matinee of Shutter Island. 

Ice cream and being scared out of my face?  That guy sure knows his audience.

 

Damn it... just looking at this makes me want another one.

But this isn't about ice cream.

The movie was fantastic.  I really like the kind of movies that keep me mentally engaged the whole time, trying to figure out what's happening or anticipate the next twist.  This one delivered on both counts, and while it wasn't jump-out-at-you-BOO scary, there is a tremendous psychological creep factor that made my skin crawl.

Mark Ruffalo!  Squee!!

But this isn't about a movie review either.

What this entry is about is a new feature here on BLBK:  lessons in common sense for the Socially or Otherwise Stunted (aka S.O.S.  Get it?). 

There are people walking among us with no sense of what constitutes socially acceptable behavior.  Hard to believe, I know!  Given the mouth-breathing specimens J and I encountered this weekend, though, I was forced to acknowledge once again that common sense is NOT, in fact, COMMON.  So let's start with some prerequisites!  Read on for descriptions of courses to be offered.

MOVI 115:  Movie Theater Manners, or "This Ain't Your Living Room, Sweetie."

We're going to the movies!  Let's get ready, shall we?

...you're not leaving the house in that, are you?  I mean, I know sweats are comfy.  Hell, I wear them almost exclusively when I'm at home on the couch.  At home.  On the couch.  Not in public places where I am sitting within spitting distance of the next person.  If you're going to insist on sweats or a tracksuit of any kind, however, I will insist that it is clean. 

And as long as we're remotely near the subject of spitting distance:  if you have any issues that may cause bodily fluids to shoot out of your nostrils/mouth/eyes/ears/wherever, please, for the love of all things Purell, stay home.  

OK.  Ticket?  Check.  Snacks and drinks?  Check aaaaand check.  (I have no issue with bringing your own; that's why God made big purses fashionable.)  Let's find a seat that does not require us to climb across the nice people who have been sitting quietly since before the lights went out.  See, there's a brief period before the previews where the lights in the theater are actually ON, and you can see where you're going without resorting to your cell phone backlight as a beacon.

Which reminds me:  now is a good time to silence your phone.  If you want to pass this class, you will turn off your ringer entirely (not just set it to vibrate) and put your phone in that big purse or your pocket for the duration of the movie.  Contrary to what you may believe, the global economy is not fueled by your texting and tweeting habits.  The universe will not come to a screeching halt if you go off the grid for two hours.  Lock it up.  Students who do not complete this assignment receive immediate failure for this class and will be required to pass PHON 121:  Cell Phone Manners, or "You're Needed In the OR, Doctor" before continuing on to other courses.

You're almost ready for the final exam, the movie itself, and our last topic to cover may well be the most important one!  The images blazing across the screen in front of you are part of a recorded film.  All these scenes?  Not happening in real time.  Similarly, the people you see talking, fighting, kissing, etc., are actors.  Playing characters.  Who cannot hear you.  Laughter, gasps and cheering are appropriate and encouraged!  Talking at full volume to the people onscreen is not.

The "shhhh" gesture is a coincidence.

Students who pass this course will be released back into the wild to enjoy movies unattended.  I caution you to avoid the typical student "brain dump" of material you've learned, however; don't think I won't rat you out.

*Instructor's note:  special thanks to the woman who sat three seats to J's right on Saturday as the inspiration for this course.  She committed all five offenses before the opening credits had run.  Bravo, madam. 

Bon Anniversaire!

My sister E over at the heyday diaries is singing that title to herself right now.  (You're welcome!)

Today's entry in the gratitude journal:  my favorite pic of us.  My friend A caught it on the sly on a double date night.  Who knew she had such a photographer's eye?!

Happy first anniversary, J.  *smooooch!*

Like high school English, but with more drinking and less reading.

Okay, so:  Book Club.

I do a lot of cool things, but BC is by far one of my favorites.  Easily in the Top 5.  It started out innocently enough, when my awesome friend A back in the hometown got tired of waiting months and months between girls' nights out.  She had always wanted to be in a book club, so she figured she'd start one herself, cajole some girlfriends into "joining" and see where it took them.

Problem is, we're all busy chicks.  Jobs and boyfriends and husbands and kids and tons of other demands on our time... who the hell has time to read?

So A compromised and said all right, we'll just read the trashy celebrity gossip rags.  It's stuff we'd be reading anyway, she thought; why don't we trade the magazines around and boom, now I've just saved you all about ten bucks in grocery store checkout line.

That was August of 2008.  I think we stuck to the original "format" once.

After that, it just sort of evolved into the awesomeness that it is today.  We meet once a month (usually on the third Thursday, but we're flexible) and a different girl hosts each time.  It's been as simple as drinks and dinner, but we've also done Saturday morning brunch (with an intense Bloody Mary bar) and sex toy parties and purse parties and trips to the winery and all kinds of fun stuff.

One of our best moments was "Book Club Gives Back" in November:  we gathered up enough stuff to make two dozen "care packages" for the Battered Women's Shelter, with toiletries and some pampering items, and some packages for their children as well.  A has a 16-month-old daughter, Little C, and she suggested adding the kids to the project because "as a mom, [she] couldn't imagine not being able to give [them] a Christmas."  (A is about to be honored as Volunteer of the Year through an organization she helps; easy to see why, huh?)

The December meeting is everyone's favorite.  We pack ourselves into a couple cars and take a Christmas shopping road trip, complete with slumber party in a hotel suite, pedicures and cupcakes and a LOT of champagne.

The dynamic nature is what makes it so cool.  There are a handful of "regulars" who never miss a month, but you can always bring new girls with you - they're only newbies for about half an hour anyway!

What's more important is the fact that we commit to getting together once a month, no matter what.  It's easy to say "I'm busy, I'm tired, I have too much else going on," and we'll grant you a pass when you really need one.  The truth is, though, we need each other just as much as we need the boyfriends/husbands/kids/jobs/etc.  Sometimes the only thing that will keep you off the ledge is a bottle of red (each) and a fantastic session of venting and giggling!

Then why even call it a book club?

Ahhh, the name is one of the key elements!  Because this way, we can talk about it in front of the guys or in front of our non-cool coworkers and acquaintances and they say "yeeuuuughhhhh, no thanks, have fun with that one." 

Oh, and because it gives us justification for drinking in the morning (I love you, brunch!). 

When I moved, I knew I'd miss my little group more than I could tell them... so I've started an annex here.  Our second meeting is next week; I'm sure the Columbus chapter will be featured here more often as time goes by!

I snooze, you lose

There is something SO satisfying about getting to sleep in on a weekday.  

Weekends too, yeah, but everybody gets to do that.  I'm talking about a random day in the middle of the week where you, just you, get to lounge around for a little bit longer than the rest of the worker bees. 

My office hours are usually the typical 8-to-5 buzz, but twice a week I get to come in late, and those two days are the highlights of my work week.  Wednesdays start at 9, and Thursdays - glorious Thursdays! - don't start until 11.  I've thought about running errands during that time:  the bank, the post office, dare I say a trip to the gym?  But I always end up snuggling down into the covers while J shuffles around, grumbling at his alarm clock.  

...and I'm not even sorry.

 You and me both, sister.

One girl's resolution*

I've been a card-carrying member of Weight Watchers for longer than I care to admit, and yet I've still never quite made it to "Lifetime Member" status (WW code for "free").  During the holidays, with the stress of moving added onto an already-busy social season, counting calories - Points, to those of us in the know - was the last thing on my mind.

One of the first things I did after unpacking my overnight bag was to recommit to getting there "for real this time."  I make my New Year's resolutions in September, with the start of the school year, but there's no denying that something about this approach smacks of resolutionary status.

Somehow, though, this time feels different.  I don't have a major life event that I'm using as a deadline for dropping the pounds; sure, my ten-year college reunion is this summer, but I'm more or less the same size now that I was back then.

Side note:  "back then??"  That's odd.  Surely, I can't have been out of undergrad for a decade already, as I haven't aged a day!

It just... means more.  Maybe it's that I want it more now; maybe it's that I'm finally ready to see it through.  Whatever.  Time for a little more of this: 

 

and a little less of this:

So I've spent the past week resurrecting my personal weight management site.  (WOW, does that sound lame.)  It's my way of holding myself accountable and of preparing to meet my goal of eventually leading Weight Watchers meetings. It's also a way to keep it off my blog and in its own separate, distinguishable place.

So what's on it?  

My master shopping list, where I name product brands and don't just call it "reduced fat popcorn" or whatever.  Specifics!

Some bits of wisdom I've picked up through the course of my Battle of the Bulge.

A cheat sheet list of favorite easy and low-cal snacks.

And RECIPES!  A ton of them, with more to come... and all them have been tested, usually on an unsuspecting J.  Best part?  The people I've cooked for have had no idea they've been eating WW-sanctioned recipes.

Feel free to check me out over at On The Weigh.... 

*With apologies to Superchick.

Why Rachel should seek help: Exhibit C.

"Well, the end table is wrong, the couch looks bizarre and don't even get me started on the refrigerator magnets."

"If I want something done right, I have to do it myself.  Other people just wreck stuff! ...I really think I might kill someone tonight."

 - Courteney Cox as Monica Geller, Friends, "The One Where Phoebe Runs"

So, the move this weekend.  

First of all, I'm going on record to say that I will never, ever again attempt to move on my own.  The movers met me at the condo at 8:30 Saturday morning, gratefully accepted the proffered Krispy Kremes, loaded up all my furniture and hit the road.

A brief 90 minutes later, I was signing the "job complete" contract and sending them along their merry way.  You can't put a price on that kind of speed.

But lifting and hauling a king-size bed, dressers and a full living room set?  That was the easy part compared to what lies before me now.

Dude:  I HATE moving.  I'm seriously contemplating burning all my stuff and just buying new the next time I have to uproot myself.  It would be a lot more expensive, for sure, but what I'd spend on kitchen items and linens would save me a bundle in OTC sedatives.

The boxes are beating me.  

I had to put myself in time-out on Saturday afternoon for a nap, after the project of reattaching feet to the couch almost had me in tears.  J sweetly suggested that I wait for him to help me but NO I CAN DO IT MYSELF AND I WANT IT DONE NOW AND I JUST... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
 

I love you, naptime.

I'm sure you can tell that I'm exaggerating just a tiny bit.  The nap did wonders for my morale; I only had to rearrange the living room four times to get it exactly the way I want it, and now that I'm almost completely settled in, the place is starting to look and feel like home.  Which was really the whole idea to begin with, so... point Cbus. 

Well played.

Rach on the move

It's finally upon us (well, me):  the movers are coming tomorrow.  There is snow in the forecast, but not until Sunday night, so I'm go for launch to have all my shit under one roof again. 

FINALLY.

After driving a 14-foot U-Haul truck up and down I-71 in the snow on New Year's weekend, there was no way in hell I was going to put myself (and J, and my friends) through that again.  Not this soon, anyway.  I like J and I want him to keep liking me.  Ditto my friends, who were sweet enough to help me load and unload, with only a few beers and some wings and ribs for payment.  

 

Just kidding J, I love you AND your video games.

All the manageable boxes are accounted for; I've been moving a bit at a time for the last ten days so the kitchen is complete and my closet is neatly organized (with clothes hanging first in category and then in color order).  I just don't have the physical strength to move a king bed, a dresser and cedar chest, and my entire living room set on my own... to say nothing of the emotional fortitude it would require.  The last effort?  Nearly broke my spirit.

But not a moment too soon, since next week I'm hosting the February meeting of my book club!

...which is a whole new post in itself.  Cliffhanger!  Stay warm this weekend, kids; cross your fingers for another snow day for me on Monday so I can stay home, unpack and get to that spring cleaning!

 

Board game FAIL.

A slightly un-American post.

I kind of hate the Olympics.

I mean, sure:  Rah rah!  U.S.A!  America, F*** Yeah!  

But also:  quit hogging my TV, dude.

I know part of it is that I'm just sick to death of the snow.  Sorry athletes, but I am just completely. burnt. out. on winter right now.  Come back in four years.  (Heh.) 

Ironic, isn't it, that February is the shortest month, and yet somehow these 16 days feel like an eternity?  I can't remember the last time I turned on the TV and wasn't blinded by the glare of sun on snow... or is it the strobe light-like effect of a zillion camera flashes aimed at Johnny Weir's costume?

Then there's pairs figure skating.  I caught some of it over the weekend and I swear to you, at least one person in every. last. couple. TOTALLY BIT IT.  

Can you imagine?  Train your ass off, fall a whole lot, skate skate skate, sweat sweat sweat, skate some more, fall some more, skate AGAIN... and then your D.B. (Sweeney!) partner falls?

HELL no.  He'd be staring down the barrel of a tantrum of epic proportions.  The whole world just watched you biff it for me... it's going to be a long flight home, sweetie.

 

"I swear, you let me down and it'll take them a month to count the blade marks up your back." 

(FYI, that's one of my favorite movies.  "Yes, Doug can read."  Classic snark!)

Really, I think I just have a hard time getting all fired up over how fast people can slide down a hill on their stomachs in this kind of weather ON PURPOSE.  Sure, those guys do it and it's monumental!  Hooray!  Here's a medal! 

 

But then I do it, and people think I'm drunk again.

Hrmph.  

P.S. don't report me as a terror threat.  And for the love of relationship harmony, please don't tell J.  Actually that's probably more important.

 *EDITED TO ADD:  I must admit to a slight weird crush-like fascination with Shaun White.  That dude just looks... snuggly.

Unoriginal sin.

It never fails:  every year in mid-February, when a bunch of us are out walking around with sooty thumbprints on our foreheads, someone will go all Helpy Helperson on us.

"Dude?  You got something on your face."

I KNOW.  Thirteen years of Catholic school wouldn't let me NOT get smudged today.

But then it made me think of the epic battle of dirt vs. clean... and then BOOM, there you have it, this week's little indulgence.

Is it weird that I like to clean?  Spring cleaning is one of my guilty pleasures FOR.SURE.  When I moved to this fair city, I brought an entire carload* of cleaning supplies:  Windex and Clorox wipes and a Swiffer WetJet and a vacuum cleaner and two kinds of Pledge and countertop cleaner from Williams-Sonoma and those Mr. Clean Magic Erasers and more, so much more.  J was like "um, OCD much?"

Well, not officially, no, but man, do I love me some clean.  The scent of a gleaming kitchen, and the way sunlight shines on a polished-smooth coffee table?  Awesome.  

Maybe I can combine my newfound magic power and my love for the smell of Cinch and see if we can get rid of some of this snow...

 To the face!  Take THAT dirt and snow!

*a 2000 Honda CR-V EX, to be precise... or "the sweet sweet Curve" as it is more commonly known