When last we met our heroine...

"Welcome back from obscurity, Rach!"

"Why, thank you, Rach."

"So... been a while, huh?  What's been going on in your fabulous life?"

"Oh, man.  Where to begin?..."

It was never my intention to abandon the blog.  I just... got busy, is all.  

*snort*  

Fine, yeah, in that way, but also in the general sense that life and family and work and all those other important things started demanding more of my time and attention, and my writing took kind of a backseat.  I've been dabbling here and there (like the fiction I write every month when I pay bills, HEY-OHHHH!!), but simply haven't had the time for a dedicated daily post.

To quote an obscure bit from an old Sinbad stand-up routine:  "some things got to CHANGE around here!!"

"I can't wait to meet him!  I hope he's wearing something made out of windbreaker!"

Charlie Kelly (Charlie Day), It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, 
"Dennis Reynolds: An Erotic Life"

There have been a ton of highlights in the last six months!  There's been a low point or two, to be fair, but on the whole it's been a terrific year and I'm looking forward to recapping it here for posterity.  I'll cover the important stuff in bits and pieces in future posts.  

FIrst things first, though:  I've decided to come back to the writing to help keep my sanity intact, to stay in practice... and to keep sharp the skills I'm going to need in my next big adventure!  A busy six months in the totally unglamorous world of higher education has led me to a pretty big self-discovery.  

Y'all, I finally know what I want to be when I grow up!  

I've decided to go back to school to get my teaching license for middle school language arts.

I love academic advising.  Telling people what to do?  Huh; let me think ab- OKAY YES I CAN DO THAT.  However, after three different roles at as many universities, I can safely say that a career at the university level is not for me.  I loved college, as many of us did, for the experience that it was:  learning, sure, but also the 1 a.m. mud-sliding on the quad, the genesis of many a TV-and-takeout tradition and the silly Sunday morning "reconstruction" conversations that helped us figure out just what we had done the night before... 


...and that's why I can't work in the field.  I loved my Miami days so much!  The very last thing I want is for those memories to become overshadowed by administrative red tape and interoffice politics. 

More to the point, though:  I love the English language.  Sure, I take some liberties with it here and there when it’s acceptable –- Facebook status updates are so much easier to type in all lowercase –- but I cannot abide the pandemic abuse of grammar, spelling, pronunciation and structure.

It murders my soul, people.  

And that brings me to today's guilty pleasure -- it is Wednesday, after all!

For a while now, I've been posting pictures of egregious, public mistakes in a Facebook photo album, complete with snarky commentary.  It's been a hit with my friends and even has led one of them to brand me as her Grammar Girl (a responsibility I do not take lightly).  I've resorted to carrying a red Sharpie in my purse:  woe to the person careless with his syntax!

I will cut you. 

The other thing I'm going to relish about teaching?  Sure, I get to tell people what to do for a living now, but just imagine the power I'll be able to wield once I've got a classroom full of little monsters!  

Yep.  Me and Lady Gaga:  we've got big plans for the future of America's youth.

The wearin' o' the green!

Top o' the marrrrnin' to ye, kids!

How lovely and convenient that St. Patrick's Day falls on a Wednesday... perfect timing for some guilty pleasures, eh?

Green Beer Day is right up there with my all-time favorite and most shameless indulgences!  I still have the t-shirts from my four years of participation... and I'm seriously considering the J.Brew one as an "alumni contribution" to one of Oxford's grandest traditions.  Mock our popped collars, our North Face jackets and our SUVs all you want; our nickname's famous and we're not mad about it.

The word shenanigans is another good one.  It's one of my favorite words and today is a perfect day to use it with abandon!  Surprisingly, the origin of the word is uncertain; it may be related to the Irish sionnach ("fox") but it's also been tied to German and even Spanish roots.  

Whatever.  The source doesn't much matter to me; what's really important is that when J and I use it, it means something fun and funny and possibly a tiny bit irresponsible is afoot!  

Plus it's in one of the funniest bits of movie dialogue ever:

"I swear to God I'm going to pistol whip the next guy who says shenanigans."
"Hey Farva - what's the name of that restaurant you like with all the goofy shit on the walls and the mozzarella sticks?"
"You mean Shenanigans?"
"Oooooooooooh...!!"

- Captain O'Hagan, Mac, Farva & Thorny (Brian Cox, Steve Lemme, Kevin Heffernan & Jay Chandrasekhar), Super Troopers

 

Today's greatest guilty pleasure, however, may well be this beloved cult classic:

 

 

Behold:  the elusive SHAMROCK SHAKE!  

 

What is it about this beverage/dessert/frosty nirvana that makes it so irresistible?  

 

Is it the hint o' mint flavor?  The awesome color?  The fact that it's only available for a few short weeks and only "at participating locations?"  All of the above?!  Hard to say... all I know is that I have about twelve hours left to get me some!

Happy St. Patty's to all of you! 

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.

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 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.

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

Coffee and a hurts-donut* please.

Donut shop coffee is like my personal Kryptonite.  I can't say no to it.  I'm not even in it for the donuts as much as I am the little paper cup with the pop-top plastic lid.

 

Oh Krispy Kreme.  I love you too.

Not all fast food coffee is created equal.  McDonald's is always a little too oily for my taste; Burger King's offering tastes burnt; Starbucks is just OKAY, given that it's overpriced and way too full of itself.  But a cup from Dunkin' Donuts, or Tim Hortons, or (my holy grail) Krispy Kreme?  Yum.

Most of the time I don't even want the donut; I think the coffee just tastes better because it comes with that deliciously yeasty, glazey smell.  Thank God smells don't have calories or I'd be a hundred pounds heavier.

Judgment-free indulgence, right this way!

*(punch) Hurts, don't it? 

Guilty as charged, bitches!

Humpity hump hump hump!!  *snort*

Shhhh... hear that?  It's the weekly test of the emergency alert siren!  The one in my hometown only fires up on the first Wednesday of every month, but the one in this fair city is EVERY WEDNESDAY BY GOD, lest we all be caught unawares...

I'm all right with it, if only because it means lunch hour on the third day of the work week = exactly halfway to the weekend!

So it's time once again for Guilty Pleasure Wednesday:  the safe space for airing those things you refuse to be sorry for!

Last week I copped to loving reality TV; this week is a variation on the same. 

J and I looooove us some Biggest Loser... but what I love most about it is that Tuesday night means takeout or Ben & Jerry's on the couch while we watch it.  Sometimes both. I spend the rest of my week trying to watch what goes into my mouth, trying to work out (and usually failing), all that healthy skinny jazz.  But then our Tuesday date night rolls around, and HELL YEAH, J and I are sitting side by side on the couch, talking with our mouths full and feeling better about ourselves by the minute.

If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Time to admit to those shameless little indulgences....

Happy Hump Day! (...hee.)

YES I KNOW WHY IT’S CALLED THAT.

I don’t care!  “Hump” is hilarious.  Say it without laughing; I dare you!  Just because I can buy beer without getting carded anymore doesn’t mean I have to give up those shameless little indulgences.

Halfway to the weekend... gotta keep our eyes on the prize... and so I present to you:  Guilty Pleasure Wednesday. 

Me?  I love reality TV.  No, I mean:  I love it.  Not all of it; I'm pretty discriminating in what I choose to watch, but once I commit to a show, I'm all in.  I DVR it and watch it once through, and then maybe a second time to catch the little subtleties.  I read the recaps of "my" shows on this amazing site.  I throw my cash away on pools and I root like hell for my horse.  (Robert Best owes me $10, damn it.)  Go big or go home!  

The Big Three are Survivor, The Biggest Loser and American Idol... although Idol loses me once we get past the train wreck audition shows and the complete meltdown of Hollywood week.  

I lived with A and C in the apartment that Colgate built in the summer of 2006, when Britney's infamous interview with Matt Lauer interview aired, and that fiasco stayed locked in the DVR until our lease was up.  Nothing cured a bad day like a bottle of wine and a couple screeches of "we're country!"   

I know you've got one too.  At least one.  Come on, sweetie,tell Rachel all about it.