The Twist. Chubby Checker. Entemann's.
Raspberry is possibly my least favorite flavor and/or smell of all fruits. With one exception -- Entemann's raspberry danish twist. My favorite, favorite danish in the entire world. I've never eaten a whole one by myself, but that may change this weekend.
Mom brought me one on Friday when we met at the doctor's office and I was so excited. I almost opened it in the car on the way home, but didn't want to look like a complete oinker driving down the highway with a fistful of jammy cake. I've been slowly chipping away at it since last night. Well maybe not so slowly. It's more than half gone and I am pretty sure I'm the only one who's been in the box. Much like eating a loaf of banana bread, raspberry danish twist is a slippery slope. I might as well sit down with the box and a carton of milk and just go to town.
I'm totally going to woof down the rest of the twist tonight. Just please don't call me Chubby.
Twist update: I just reached a new danish low. Not only did I polish off the entire twist, but as I was eating the last piece, three large chunks of icing fell off and landed at my feet. I immediately bent down and, one by one, picked them up and put them directly into my mouth. I felt so bad, yet it was so good.
Saturday, May 31
Friday, May 30
Sing it like Judas Priest
"Breakin' the law, breakin' the law!" Today I got my first ever moving violation. It's been a good 12 years since I've even been pulled over. That happened when I was leaving class at Drexel and I sped through a yellow light. It turned red before I crossed the point of no return and lucky for me the officer who caught me was in a good mood and sent me off with a warning. Today, even though I was stopped by a cop who was in good spirits, he knew my registration hadn't been renewed so I was destined to leave the scene with a ticket either way.
I was about a block from my OB's office when I saw the lights flashing behind me, so I pulled into the parking lot and shut off my engine. The officer asked for my license, insurance and registration. I handed over the first two, but while shuffling through my short stack of expired insurance and registration cards I noticed I was short one 2008 document. OOPS! The cop said, "Don't worry about looking in there, you won't find it. Your registration hasn't been renewed for this year." Double OOPS! I looked down and saw that my old one had expired in April, and I smiled and explained that I had a baby in mid-April and I completely spaced out on a lot of things, re-registering being one of them. Obviously. We exchanged pleasantries and he told me to hang on just a moment.
He went back to his cruiser and returned with my documents and a lovely pale marigold-colored piece of paper with some writing... oh no sorry, that pretty paper was my ticket. Shoot. He explained that he would have let me go if not for the fact that my law breakin' lack of registration shows up on the computer system in such a way that he had to issue the fine. Ok, ok, at least he said he would have let me slide. It took away the sting. Then he mentioned I should be careful driving back home (if I wanted to chance that at all) because normally they have to tow unregistered vehicles. Woo! But since I was on private property (the dr.'s office parking lot), he would let that go but added that I may not be so lucky on the off chance I got stopped again on the way home.
So you can tell I'm not in the slammer, thank God. I'm just going to pay the ticket and renew my registration online. I don't think I'll ever forget again, that's for sure. And I'll be hearing Rob Halford's voice in my head for at least the next couple of days... "Breakin' the law, breakin' the law!"
I was about a block from my OB's office when I saw the lights flashing behind me, so I pulled into the parking lot and shut off my engine. The officer asked for my license, insurance and registration. I handed over the first two, but while shuffling through my short stack of expired insurance and registration cards I noticed I was short one 2008 document. OOPS! The cop said, "Don't worry about looking in there, you won't find it. Your registration hasn't been renewed for this year." Double OOPS! I looked down and saw that my old one had expired in April, and I smiled and explained that I had a baby in mid-April and I completely spaced out on a lot of things, re-registering being one of them. Obviously. We exchanged pleasantries and he told me to hang on just a moment.
He went back to his cruiser and returned with my documents and a lovely pale marigold-colored piece of paper with some writing... oh no sorry, that pretty paper was my ticket. Shoot. He explained that he would have let me go if not for the fact that my law breakin' lack of registration shows up on the computer system in such a way that he had to issue the fine. Ok, ok, at least he said he would have let me slide. It took away the sting. Then he mentioned I should be careful driving back home (if I wanted to chance that at all) because normally they have to tow unregistered vehicles. Woo! But since I was on private property (the dr.'s office parking lot), he would let that go but added that I may not be so lucky on the off chance I got stopped again on the way home.
So you can tell I'm not in the slammer, thank God. I'm just going to pay the ticket and renew my registration online. I don't think I'll ever forget again, that's for sure. And I'll be hearing Rob Halford's voice in my head for at least the next couple of days... "Breakin' the law, breakin' the law!"
Thursday, May 29
Electronics personal
Married white female seeks contemporary cellular telephone device to share enjoyable long term relationship. Possible candidates should be user-friendly, dress in fashionable colors, and come with own slide-out QWERTY keypad for easy texting. Must have experience entertaining small children. Built-in camera a plus, but not a necessity. Not looking for anything complicated, just something I can keep in my pocket and have a little fun with (vibrate, anyone?). Non-smokers only, please.
Wednesday, May 28
Plan of attack
Did you ever plan out in your head what you would do if you realized someone were breaking into your house? This is one of the things I think about every now and again.
Now, I'd like to think I could overpower and outsmart an intruder with sheer physical strength, athletic prowess, and ninja skills. I spent most of 2005 watching kung fu movies and honing my gang leader instincts in San Andreas. On the off chance these finely tuned reflexes don't kick in automatically if I should ever (God forbid) need them, I have things in my home mapped out in my favor and that's pretty much all I can say about that.
One thing that excites me is the thought of getting buff. My inspiration is two-fold. One, I try to recall my favorite Bruce Lee moments. I used to come home from the gym, put on a Bruce dvd, and flex, flex, flex. The thought of his glistening fitness brings out my own inner tiger, and for that I offer him my greatest thanks. And two, I watch the Bravo show "Workout". That Jackie is something else. If you've seen the show then you may not like her personality, but you have to admit she's one tough cookie. And saying this doesn't mean I've joined her team... but she's hot. She gives me the kind of confidence that makes me say that even though I'll be wearing a one-piece swimsuit this summer (after all, it's only been six weeks, people), next year it's bikini, bikini, bikini all the way!
Now, I'd like to think I could overpower and outsmart an intruder with sheer physical strength, athletic prowess, and ninja skills. I spent most of 2005 watching kung fu movies and honing my gang leader instincts in San Andreas. On the off chance these finely tuned reflexes don't kick in automatically if I should ever (God forbid) need them, I have things in my home mapped out in my favor and that's pretty much all I can say about that.
One thing that excites me is the thought of getting buff. My inspiration is two-fold. One, I try to recall my favorite Bruce Lee moments. I used to come home from the gym, put on a Bruce dvd, and flex, flex, flex. The thought of his glistening fitness brings out my own inner tiger, and for that I offer him my greatest thanks. And two, I watch the Bravo show "Workout". That Jackie is something else. If you've seen the show then you may not like her personality, but you have to admit she's one tough cookie. And saying this doesn't mean I've joined her team... but she's hot. She gives me the kind of confidence that makes me say that even though I'll be wearing a one-piece swimsuit this summer (after all, it's only been six weeks, people), next year it's bikini, bikini, bikini all the way!
IM on chat
I love to chat. Or IM, however you call it. I think it depends which chat you use. If I'm using Yahoo!, I say I'm on IM, or I'm IMing. When using iChat, I say I'm chatting. Then again, I talk to Jen on IM and we say "chat later" when we say goodbye. So maybe this is chat, and that is chat, and it's all very Seussian. Either way, chat is a wonderful thing, especially now that I hate talking on the telephone.
I lost my phone. I think it got lost some time on Sunday. Sunday afternoon I had it, then I went to make a call Sunday night and couldn't find it anywhere. Something distracted me and I forgot to keep looking, and now I have no idea where it's gone. But that's fine, since I'm not really interested in using it. My phone is old as shite. It's at least four years old. There's nothing wrong with it, and it's small enough, so I don't have a good reason to replace it. I have a house phone now for faxing and emergencies, so I can still check my voice mail. What's more, I can call people incognito since nobody knows my other number. I also have a third line on our wireless service and nobody knows that number either. If you get a call and hear lots of heavy breathing, then giggling, you'll know it's probably me. hehe.
The thing I love about chat is that I can have a whole conversation and not be the least bit inconvenienced by the telephone. Today, for instance, I was on with Jen and we wrote back and forth over the course of about three or four hours. Not constant conversation the whole time, but lines to each other here and there. Topics included things like hairstyles, baby sleep positions, how to make chili, nail polish for a special dress, and inspiration/motivation. There were side notes and topic changes. As we talked, I made dinner, did laundry, changed diapers, handed out snacks, and emptied the dishwasher. And not once did I have to shoosh anyone or ask Jen to repeat herself because someone was screaming or distracting me. It's also nice because I don't feel like the only adult on the planet, let alone the only one home with kids all day. Some days are better than others for chatting, but on the average day I can be found IM or chat or this or that at one time or another. It's not face to face with actual people, but it's enough to keep me connected in between contact with actual flesh and blood.
I lost my phone. I think it got lost some time on Sunday. Sunday afternoon I had it, then I went to make a call Sunday night and couldn't find it anywhere. Something distracted me and I forgot to keep looking, and now I have no idea where it's gone. But that's fine, since I'm not really interested in using it. My phone is old as shite. It's at least four years old. There's nothing wrong with it, and it's small enough, so I don't have a good reason to replace it. I have a house phone now for faxing and emergencies, so I can still check my voice mail. What's more, I can call people incognito since nobody knows my other number. I also have a third line on our wireless service and nobody knows that number either. If you get a call and hear lots of heavy breathing, then giggling, you'll know it's probably me. hehe.
The thing I love about chat is that I can have a whole conversation and not be the least bit inconvenienced by the telephone. Today, for instance, I was on with Jen and we wrote back and forth over the course of about three or four hours. Not constant conversation the whole time, but lines to each other here and there. Topics included things like hairstyles, baby sleep positions, how to make chili, nail polish for a special dress, and inspiration/motivation. There were side notes and topic changes. As we talked, I made dinner, did laundry, changed diapers, handed out snacks, and emptied the dishwasher. And not once did I have to shoosh anyone or ask Jen to repeat herself because someone was screaming or distracting me. It's also nice because I don't feel like the only adult on the planet, let alone the only one home with kids all day. Some days are better than others for chatting, but on the average day I can be found IM or chat or this or that at one time or another. It's not face to face with actual people, but it's enough to keep me connected in between contact with actual flesh and blood.
Tuesday, May 27
I'm back from the fortress and I'm not here to talk some shite
Sorry I haven't written. I've been buying furniture at IKEA for the past, oh, three days or so. My nickname for that store is "the fortress". No windows, no clocks, surrounded by cement. You might as well not exist. You go in and you're lucky if you ever get out. It's the shopping equivalent of "The Legend of Zelda". Trying to find your way out, or even getting from one level to the next, is futile. Ok, I'm exaggerating a little, but when you're stuck in the IKEA warp, those shopping shackles get so heavy you just want to collapse on a showroom bed, spend the night, and start fresh in the morning. Luckily they have a $.99 breakfast just in case.
When, finally, I emerged from the fortress on Saturday, I did so with a new bed base, an extendable toddler bed and mattress, shelves, dishes, toys, lighting, and various storage units, and chatch with which to fill said units. All in all, a fulfilling trip. Did I mention the duvet cover and pillowcases?
Tonight Frank was putting the bed base together and I noticed something was different. A big shift in my own behavior. Let me tell you what happened. Rather, let me tell you what didn't happen. Normally, furniture assembly is a time when I would make my presence known. I'd be saying, "Do this. No! Like this!" and "Wait, don't put that screw there, it goes over here!" and really smart, smart things like that. Half the time I'd be shuffling things in the wrong direction, and the rest of the time I'd be talking shite about what should happen next. Eventually the bed base would get assembled, but not without a queen size headache.
But things were different this evening. I had absolutely no interest in helping. No interest in talking shite. And I loooove to talk shite. Mostly I sat with the kids in their room. We watched tv and ate yogurt and graham crackers and goofed around. Frank asked me where a couple of pieces of bed frame were, and rather than getting up to help I just shrugged my shoulders. I did help him flip the mattress support slats, but after that was done I was happy to leave the room and get back to my own business (of which there is plenty). Maybe I've finally gotten involved enough in my own life that I can let some things happen without me. I have no plans to help put Nico's new bed together, or direct the shelf hanging process, or even assist with the placement of the spifffy new lights. Can't wait to see how things look when it's all finished.
When, finally, I emerged from the fortress on Saturday, I did so with a new bed base, an extendable toddler bed and mattress, shelves, dishes, toys, lighting, and various storage units, and chatch with which to fill said units. All in all, a fulfilling trip. Did I mention the duvet cover and pillowcases?
Tonight Frank was putting the bed base together and I noticed something was different. A big shift in my own behavior. Let me tell you what happened. Rather, let me tell you what didn't happen. Normally, furniture assembly is a time when I would make my presence known. I'd be saying, "Do this. No! Like this!" and "Wait, don't put that screw there, it goes over here!" and really smart, smart things like that. Half the time I'd be shuffling things in the wrong direction, and the rest of the time I'd be talking shite about what should happen next. Eventually the bed base would get assembled, but not without a queen size headache.
But things were different this evening. I had absolutely no interest in helping. No interest in talking shite. And I loooove to talk shite. Mostly I sat with the kids in their room. We watched tv and ate yogurt and graham crackers and goofed around. Frank asked me where a couple of pieces of bed frame were, and rather than getting up to help I just shrugged my shoulders. I did help him flip the mattress support slats, but after that was done I was happy to leave the room and get back to my own business (of which there is plenty). Maybe I've finally gotten involved enough in my own life that I can let some things happen without me. I have no plans to help put Nico's new bed together, or direct the shelf hanging process, or even assist with the placement of the spifffy new lights. Can't wait to see how things look when it's all finished.
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