Archive for February, 2009

I spend roughly 50 hours at work every week, so it’s no wonder that some of my best friends are people I work with or have worked with.  I’ve developed multiple friendships over the last five years only to lose them to new opportunities and occasionally, new cities too. Oh sure we keep in touch via email/Facebook/Twitter/blogging, but my work-life is never quite the same after they’re gone.

This week, I will lose another friend to a new city and while I’m so happy for her, I’m sad for me. I won’t get to see her friendly smile beaming back at me from down the hall anymore, or have the chance to make fun of her for walking up and down two extra flights of stairs to use the bathroom on another floor just for the excercise. We won’t go out to lunch anymore and I won’t laugh because I won’t get to watch her dip her salad into her soup.

My averse reaction to all of this might make one think I’ve never lost a work friend before. But I have many times. In fact, in celebrating my friend’s last week at the office, two other former co-workers and I gathered together with her for a couple of beers and a delicious meal tonight. In seeing all three of them together, I realized how much I missed them (and others who were absent) and how much I would miss Jen too.

I’m usually not the sentimental type because sulking does not look good on me, but I couldn’t keep my lower lip from jutting out and shedding a few tears on the drive home while Kelly Clarkson’s “My Life Would Suck Without You” played in the background. Well, until “Hey Ma (we gonna get it on tonight)” came on  the radio. That song totally killed the mood and kind of made me wish booty calls were an option for me. Strange how quickly moods can change with the tune of a new song. Anyway…

What I’m trying to say is, to all my friends I saw tonight: I love you guys. I don’t say it often (Okay, I’ve never said it) but I do. And not because I’ve had a couple of beers tonight, though that sometimes helps with the openness of emotions. And also not because you guys laugh at all my jokes, even though that also helps with me liking you. But because you have all been true friends, not just acquaintances one makes while at work. You’ve all been there for me when I really needed you and ours is a friendship that exists outside company walls. And I hope it will continue to be that way many years from now.

When I count them all up, I realize that I don’t have many “original” work friends left – friends that I’ve had since early in my career. Work friends that I’ve now known for years. But I will say this: V, if you’re reading this, and you leave me, I will…angrily flip over someone’s desk! But not mine, b/c I just organized all my shit. And not anyone’s that could potentially fire me, b/c well, I like having a job. But I will flip over someone’s desk! Maybe an empty one! And it won’t be pretty, I can tell you that. And if that doesn’t work, I will steal your Yoda and hold him hostage.  And your Darth Tater. Because they kind of go together and need to keep each other company.

Bottom line: Work friends rock, losing them sucks, especially when they move to a different city.

There. Poetic, don’t you think?


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Gym Etiquette

When I become a parent, there are a few key things I plan to teach my child.

1) Always remember to say “please” and “thank you.”

2) It’s okay to pick your nose, but only in the bathroom when other people aren’t looking.

3) Do not, I repeat, DO NOT fart on the treadmill.

If you follow me on Twitter, then you may have seen my multiple tweets complaining about fellow gym patrons and their failure to control their gas. You see, every great once in awhile on a crowded day at the gym where we’re all lined up like soldiers, pounding away on the treadmill, someone will just let one go and the smell permeates the immediate area sometimes triggering a gag reflex. I’ve noticed that some people are either too focused on their running or pretend not to notice the smell. Others are breathing through their mouths and probably can’t smell it. But I always look around, hoping to catch the sneaky bastard with a guilty look on his or her face. When this happened earlier this week I had it narrowed down to two guys, but the overwhelming smell of curry coming from their sweaty pores already had me thinking I should end my workout early. So when the fart hit my nose, I slowed my pace and held my breath for the stench to pass. Once it had, I stepped off my machine, but in order to leave I had to walk behind the suspected men. That’s when I was greeted with ANOTHER wave of invisible shit in my nostrils. He did a two-fer! On the treadmill! With lots of people around! Maybe it’s a cultural thing, I thought.

Then tonight I was on the treadmill again, minding my own business and engrossed in the latest episode of The Biggest Loser when I smelled something so rank it could gag a horse. I looked around and was surprised to see that the only person within 20 ft of me was a young blond woman jogging lightly a few machines down. Surely that smell couldn’t have come from her? She wouldn’t do that in public, would she? Apparently she would and she did. I was a little surprised but soon realized that this must truly be a real problem. A problem which could easily turn into a pandemic if not brought under control. A problem which can all be blamed on the parents and their failure to teach their children proper gym etiquette.

So mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be treadmill farters. Please and thank you.

This has been a public service announcement.

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Headline: Goat breaks into home, eats cake

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Oscars 2009

Let’s start with the red carpet.

First of all, while I love E!, I completely despise Ryan Seacrest. I also think E! should strongly consider hiring another interviewer for events where Brangelina might appear because apparently Angelina also despises Ryan Seacrest and continues to snub him. The first time was at the Golden Globes. This time, Seacrest was able to scream a question at Brad who politely (and quickly) answered and walked on. Angelina would not allow herself to even be in the background of the camera shot. So E!, unless you want to continue missing out on precious Brangelina interviews, get someone other than Ryan Seacrest!!

Another idiot moment for Seacrest was when he interviewed Marisa Tomei (who looked gorgeous, as always). He asked her what it was like to be back at the Oscars after so many years and said that the last time she was here was “what? In 1993 for My Cousin Vinny? How does it feel?” to which she replied, slightly annoyed “well I have been here since then, but it’s great.” But what she should’ve said was “Hey asshole, I was here in 2002 when I was nominated for Best Supporting Actress for my 2001 movie, In the Bedroom. Dipshit.” Clearly, Marisa is a much classier woman than me.

Ugh. I really wish other stations would cover the entire red carpet event so I don’t have to subject myself to the stupidity that is Ryan Seacrest.

Moving on…

The dresses!

Brangelina, looking gorgeous as always.


(all images courtesy PerezHilton.com.)

But my favorite dress for the evening was worn by Kate Winslet.


Love the charcoal color, love the layers…very elegant.

Other honorable mentions include:

Beyonce: Though I think I would’ve liked a different pattern/color better, the woman knows how to dress for her body type.


Frieda Pinto: Loved this color but the one arm see-through sleeve makes me itchy. Still beautiful though.friedapinto

I have to admit that I actually had to remind myself what Sarah Jessica Parker’s dress looked like because all I remember about her is: BOOBS!


You can’t tell from this picture, but SJP described the color as “barely mint.”

I could go on and on about the dresses I DIDN’T like, but I’ll save us all some time and just post my most “What the hell was she thinking?” dress:


Miley Cyrus, you’ve managed to make headlines for all the wrong reasons. Again.

Other notables from the night:

  • Awkward was how Jennifer Aniston looked while presenting just 10 feet from her former husband and the homewrecker.  I was kind of hoping to see her go ballistic and jump down from the stage, emerging into a chatoic cat fight. Angelina probably would’ve won though, but that’s just because I bet she fights dirty.
  • Hugh Jackman did a fantastic job as host. Though I prefer it when comedians host the awards, I think he held his own. And his accent is adorable.
  • Sean Penn neglected to thank his wife during his acceptance speech. I smell a divorce in their future. But this time, for real. None of this filing papers and then reconciling bullshit. I bet they’re kaput before next year’s awards.
  • The Seth Rogan/James Franco short was funny. Stupid, but funny.
  • Tina Fey and Steve Martin. LOVE!
  • Robert Pattinson still managed to look like a vampire. He was just a vampire in a tux. His teeth! They’re so…pointy.
  • Kate Winslet and Penelope Cruz had the best acceptance speeches. They were just so genuinely happy and nervous and cute. I never liked Penelope until I saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona but now, I think I can stand her. And part of me wanted to see Anne Hathaway win, but only because she was just so darn excited to be there.
  • And the big winner of the night: Slumdog Millionaire. I admit that I haven’t seen it yet, but after watching all of the interviews and hearing all of the reviews, I really wanted this movie to win. And it did!

What did you think of the awards?

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First of all, you should know that the hubby and I had a splendid (yes, I said splendid) Valentine’s Day with Nora and her boyfriend TDH. She captured the day’s events perfectly with a timeline post so if you want the play-by-play of all the fun we had, please visit her site. Or if you don’t feel like clicking, I’ll just tell you that we had a blast!

Secondly, I have a new header, thanks to the fabulous Stephanie. Between work, her hectic travel schedule, cooking adventures, home repairs, and life, she still found time to design a new header for me. If that isn’t bloggy love, then I don’t know what bloggy love is.

Thirdly, I was interviewed by the lovely Jennifer as part of some type of interview-y game. So here are her questions and my answers:

1. What’s your current obsession/addiction? I have a few. Twitter/iPhone/Running/Vacation planning/and foods with lots of fiber (think Fiber One granola bars, NOT Metamucil or Benefiber. I’m getting old, but not THAT old.)

2. What was the last thing you said aloud? “Ok sounds good.”

3. What was the last thing you bought? A Cherry Coke Zero and a pack of gum. But what I really wanted was a bag of jalapeno Cheetos. I’ve never had them, but they looked better than my soda and gum.

4. List 3 places in the United States that you’d like to visit: Oh Jen, you know me and my travel addiction so well! Actually, due to an earlier weekend getaway cancellation, we now have two tickets with Southwest that we need to use by the end of 2009, so we’ve been contemplating where to go. I would say our top three choices are:
1. Napa Valley/San Francisco
2. Boston
3. Lake Tahoe (because Southwest doesn’t fly to Hawaii)

5. What is your most challenging goal? Losing weight. I’ve struggled with my weight my entire life and unfortunately, I think I always will (see Cheetos confession above). That and my goal to win the lottery. If only I could find out what the winning numbers would be BEFORE the drawing. My life goals would be so much easier to attain.

Ah, I love interviews.

If you would like to play along here are the instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. (I get to pick the questions).
3. You update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. You know, to pay-it-forward and keep this little interview game going.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions and so on and so forth
The first five ‘askers’ get the interview! (Though I’ll interview anyone who plays along – even if I get more than five requests. Because I’m nice like that.)

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Warning: If you’re eating, you may want to stop. Or bookmark this post for when you’re not eating.

I had a perfectly uneventful, non-stressful day at work and expected my evening to go just as smoothly. I was a little tired from yesterday’s workout so I decided not to try and attempt the gym again tonight. I spent my entire commute home thinking about how to spend the rest of my night. I decided on a simple night of a low-cal dinner, maybe some laundry, blogging, and turn-in early for a little extra sleep.

So when I walked through the door, the last thing I expected was to be knocked almost senseless by a cloud of dog shit fumes. Apparently the dog was struck with a bad case of diarrhea and lost control of his bowels not once, but twice on my hardwood floors. Oh and he also threw up on the carpet. And if that wasn’t bad enough on it’s own, he apparently did this fairly early in the day because it was starting to, uh, harden around the edges. And my only point in divulging that amount of detail is to convey just how long the smell had been permeating and tainting the air within my home. There wasn’t a room in my house – not even the basement – that contained breathable air. I opened the windows, lit all my candles, sprayed air freshener and went to work while trying not to pass out. I’m surprised at how well my gag-reflexes stayed in check. Nearly an hour, three pairs of plastic gloves, and a half a roll of paper towels later, I did all I could. But the smell…it lingered. I was starving for dinner but the thought of eating anything in that environment just repulsed me, so I left – with the windows down and the candles burning – to go to the grocery store and kill some time.

Just a tip: Don’t go to the grocery store hungry. Also, don’t go pissed off, or you will end up with roughly four bottles of wine in your cart. Four bottles of wine, and ice cream.

I saw one of my neighbors at the store but pretended not to see her. The last thing I wanted to do was make chit chat while trying to ignore the smell of dog crap that must be clinging to my nose hairs. After half an hour, I could still smell it. I sniffed my hair, wondering if the fumes were like that of cigarette smoke that tends to cling to every fiber it comes in contact with.

I came home thankful to find that 1) my house was still standing and hadn’t been broken into and 2) the smell was gone, replaced with a mixture of apple pie and vanilla (from my candles). It was a tad frigid, but who’s going to complain about that when just a couple of hours ago it was a sweltering sauna of dog shit?

The most frustrating part of all of this though wasn’t the mess itself. It was the fact that my husband wouldn’t answer his damn phone. Nothing is more aggravating to me than having something urgent to tell him and then not being able to get a hold of him. He’s notorious for never having his cell phone on him. Usually I just hang up and don’t even bother with leaving a message (because he never checks those either. He just calls back.) but tonight, I had just spent an hour cleaning up dog mess and another hour away from home, waiting for the stench to clear out so I could come home and fix dinner. I was hungry, tired, and a tad on the irritated side, so I left him a message. A message that basically said he shouldn’t even have a cell phone since he never uses it. Except with a lot more cursings. A message that was probably so vile that if I would’ve threw in a few more f-bombs, it may have rivaled one of Christian Bale’s recent outbursts. Good thing he doesn’t know how to save voice mails and post them to the Internet.

But life gets even funnier. Thinking the worst was over, I wasn’t about to let a little (okay, like 5 lbs) of dog shit ruin my night, and my diet, not matter how much I wanted to use my unfortunate luck as an excuse to say “fuck it” and eat Steak N Shake. I came home and microwaved a piece of frozen fish. The first bite was a little chewy, but still edible. The second bite however left me with a fish bone stuck in the roof of my mouth, jammed so far up there that I wondered how close it came to hitting my brain. I threw the rest, including the other filet in the box, immediately in the trash. (Gordman’s frozen blackened/Cajun fish fillets? You’re on my shit list.)

So popcorn and wine it is! Except I didn’t check the label of the popcorn and ended up making kettle corn instead of regular light butter popcorn. Can nothing just go my way today?!  I think I’ll just go to bed before I hurt myself falling up the stairs.

*And for those of you who are genuinely concerned about the health of my dog – all two of you – I assure you he is fine. We fed him some leftover steak fat from last night’s dinner – something we rarely do – and apparently it didn’t sit too well with him. As strange as it sounds, I think my dog is steak-intolerant. This is only the second time he has ever had steak in his life. The first time ended with him projectile pooping in our car on our way back from Memphis. Trust me, that story is just as bad as it sounds. At the time, I didn’t think it could possibly be the steak, but today’s incident proves it. Steak = projectile pooping. So no more steak for him.

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Borrowing this meme from Tara, in honor of Valentine’s Day. Or because I’m bored.

? How long have you been together? 4 1/2 years

? How long did you know each other before you started dating? A day or two.

? Who asked who out? Well, I’m the one that initiated the conversation with him but I’m pretty sure he’s the one that that asked for my phone number.

? How old are each of you? I’m 26 and he’s 28.

? Whose siblings do/ did you see the most? His, because I don’t have any

? Do you have any children together? Yes, our dog Champ. Shutup, he is too our child.

? What about pets? See above.

? Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? Time apart.

? Did you go to the same school? Nope.

? Are you from the same home town? Nope, not even the same state.

? Who is the smartest? Book smart: me  Street smart: him, I guess, but I still say me.

? Who is the most sensitive? We’re both insensitive pricks.

? Where do you eat out most as a couple? Fast food: Subway or Taco Bell  Restaurant: Pei Wei or Macaroni Grill

? Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? Italy

? Who has the craziest exes? When comparing stories, I would say he does. And it’s just one.

? Who has the worst temper? Hmmm…I guess he does because when he’s mad, he yells. When I get mad, I wait…and then I fart on his pillow.

? Who does the cooking? Most nights me. But he does his share of BBQing in the summer.

? Who is more social? Me, though it took him a little longer to grow out of the “bar scene” phase.

? Who is the neat-freak? No neat-freaks live in my house.

? Who is the more stubborn? Him. I refuse to admit that I am stubborn.

? Who hogs the bed? He does. No matter what size bed we sleep in, he always ends up right in the middle of it.

? Who wakes up earlier? Me. I can only lure him out of bed on the weekends with waffles and coffee. Or lots of banging around on pots and pans when I’m “putting away the dishes.”

? Where was your first date? A little Italian restaurant in Westport that no longer exists. Or just has a different name now.

? Who has the bigger family? Immediate family: him  but extended family: me

? Do you get flowers often? Sure. He used to send them almost monthly. Now I get them a few times a year. Sometimes he sends them to work, sometimes he brings them home.

? How do you spend the holidays? Thanksgiving with my family at home and Christmas with his out in the middle of nowhere.

? Who is more jealous? I guess me. Whenever we order dinner out, I always think what he’s having looks better than what I’m having and am therefore jealous the rest of the night because he had a better meal. I’m also jealous of his metabolism. But, he gets bent out of shape when I talk to other guys. And I talk to A LOT of other guys. So I guess it evens out ;)

? How long did it take to get serious? Two weeks.

? Who eats more? Him, though I like to eat more often.

? Who does/ did the laundry? Me. I’m pretty sure the man is incapable of folding even a towel.

? Who’s better with the computer? Me.

? Who drives when you are together? It’s about even, but on long road trips, he drives.

Ah that was fun.

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Death to Snuggie

During a quick stop at Walgreens this weekend, I waited patiently in the car for my husband to run in and buy some cold medicines.

When he returned, he came back with more than just nasal spray and cough drops.

Into my lap landed this:

My reaction: WTF is this?! Oh hells naw, you did NOT just buy me a SNUGGIE! Get that thing away from me and take it back RIGHT NOW! That’s the…

Hubby: It’s not for you. It’s for my mom. Her birthday is next week.

Me: Oh, okay then. It’s perfect.

I don’t know why, but I am morally against the snuggie. My husband (aka, the person who knows me best) thinks that this is the one item I should be all over. I’m constantly cold and love curling up on the couch with my giant blue fleece blanket. I’ll wrap it around myself and wear it like a toga as I walk to and from the kitchen for refills of hot chocolate. In theory, I am the perfect snuggie candidate.


I do not like the snuggie. In fact, just mere mention of the word “snuggie” makes me rather…angry. Like punch a koala angry (thank you, CareerBuilder). Some might even say…stabby. Yes, the snuggie makes me stabby. It’s a strange phenomena really. Someone should conduct a study on my psyche. Though I’m pretty sure I’m not alone. How does a monk’s fleece cloak evoke so much emotion? I don’t know. I just know there aren’t enough koalas around when I need them.

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Beautiful Barcelona

I had every intention of going to the gym tonight, but I woke up early this morning around 3 a.m. with a sore throat so painful that there was no spot in my throat that did not ache. So also? My inner ears hurt too. That’s what pain does. When it runs out of room in one place in your body, it spreads to the next available space. Suffice it to say, I have caught the cold that seems to be making its way across the country.

So instead of the gym, I opted for the opposite: a little comfort food from Steak ‘n Shake and a date with my couch. My couch wanted to watch some typical dude movie with guns and cars and extravagant (read: completely unrealistic) fight scenes and lesbian action. I wanted to watch Friends re-runs. We compromised and watched “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” How is this compromise? Well, Vicky and Cristina are best friends spending their summer in Barcelona and there’s some hot lesbian action. So there ya go.

Anyway, the movie took place, per the obvious title, in Barcelona. And for those of you who read this blog back in the fall, you’ll remember this post about my brief time there since it was our port of departure for our Mediterranean cruise. As I watched the movie, I saw so many places I recognized. They even show a clip of the random people in the streets dancing with their giant sparklers. At the time, we had wondered if it was some sort of special holiday to warrant such festivities and fireworks, but apparently this is just how they celebrate Saturday nights during the summer. And I think that’s pretty rad.

So the movie made me more than a little reminiscent of my new favorite city (recently replacing my previous favorite city: New York) so I booted up the laptop to review my old posts. It didn’t take me long to remember that, hey, I forgot to tell you guys about the rest of our trip. I told you about Barcelona, Malta, and Naples, but I never did tell you about Rome, Florence or Nice. That’s half the trip right there! So I’m going to get on that. Right after I get over this cold and look at some pictures of Barcelona.

This is what they do. I shit you not.

The nightlife is amazing. Like Miami, but a bit…slower. More my speed.


This one is bigger because it’s actually mine.  La Rambla is the equivalent to Chicago’s Michigan Ave.

If you care to share, tell me about your favorite city and why it’s your favorite.

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Dear Punxsutawney Phil,

You’re an asshole. I think this whole “seeing  your shadow” bit is a crock. And on top of that, you only work for about 10 seconds one day a  year. Maybe I’m just jealous, but you’re still an asshole.


The leader of the Coalition Against Fat, Lazy Groundhogs (CAFLG).


Dear Skinny People at the Gym,

If you don’t have butt dimples or are smaller than a size 4, get the hell off the treadmill and go eat a cheeseburger. You’re making the rest of us out-of-shape people look bad and honestly, my competitive side can’t take it anymore. Maybe you haven’t noticed me trying to out run you both in speed and distance when we’re on the treadmill next to each other, but I bet you noticed me that time I may have went a little too fast and in an attempt to slow back down, knocked my iPhone off and sent it flying a good 10 feet behind me. Better it than me I guess. But I’m still blaming you and your skinny ass for my inappropriate behavior. This wouldn’t have happened had I been competing with someone a little more…fleshy.

Now get the hell out.


Someone with the metabolism of a sloth


Dear lady in the elevator,

Look, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but no one is going to notice that cute Kate Spade bag of yours when just one whiff of your breath can knock a girl unconscious. Maybe you should spend a little less money on accessories and a little more with your dental hygienist. Just sayin’.


Girl who was nearly knocked unconscious in the elevator

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