Friday, December 30, 2011

Pretend You're My Therapist

It goes like this:  I ended my long and complicated relationship with the company I worked for and moved in to a private, for-profit job (no one likes profit more than me, my friend) which gave me almost two weeks off for Christmas (and Hanukkah) after only working there two weeks.  This time off has also coincided with Beloved's regularly scheduled week-off-per-month. This is the second time this year that we've been able to have dedicated time off together.  In this time, we've managed to have a fantastic Christmas (I'm proud to say my blog garnered me a fabulous vacuum, but sadly, no nose-hair trimmer) and we were able to unload the ol PT Cruiser in favor of a vehicle that won't ensure my untimely end. 
What we haven't been able to do is find internet service.  Every single company I've called does not provide service to our area.  We live on the main road.  Spitting distance from the town line into Eddington.  Eddington has service.  All of my Clifton jokes are coming back to haunt me.  It's like living in the third world.  I have started sending out "$3 a day can provide all the luxury essentials this girl would need" to friends and relatives (look for yours soon...or provide me with your email address if you'd prefer to do a Paypal transfer.)
As for the wedding front, we've secured a reception site.  It wasn't without tears (me) and F-bombs (Beloved), but we took the first place that didn't make me want to punch someone.  If you're going to show off and try to entice me to have "the most memorable day of my life" in your location, please clean the effing carpets.  And know where the light switches are.  And take down the ramshackle Christmas decorations.  And take my body size into consideration.  I come from big people.  There is no way we would fit into the room you so confidently feel will hold over 100 people.  And no one will dance on a 3x3 dance floor.  My personal space is larger than that.  Next up is trying to secure DJ, photographer, and a wedding dress.  I'd be a cash-cow for a show on TLC if they only knew enough to film me.  Mad props to Beloved for jumping into the helping with both feet.  He still doesn't feel like we're under any time crunch...he's just happy he doesn't have to wear a tuxedo and that no one will make him do the Electric Slide.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Things I'm Doing At The Moment: A List

  • feeling excited for wedding planning (had to post it publicly)
  • having a '40's dance party in the front office, alone
  • visioning a blog for my new employer called "Notes From the Gumline"
  • ordering lunch for our worker bees (I'm getting what I like to call "meat cinnamon rolls" (cause that's what they look like))
  • using all methods of restraint to not order Beloved more Christmas presents, even though he is wonderful and patient and blows me kisses and wears the good smelling man cologne* to put me in a better mood (I think it's what klonopin smells like) and changes my windshield wipers and makes the bad engine light disappear and generally maintains the Evil Beast (that would be the car, not me, though at times we might be twins)
  • dreading my hours at the second job (please play roulette and try to call to get me!  I'll take your order!!) 
  • sending out straggler Christmas cards, picked out by Beloved (a message on the inside of one says "you'll feel better if you give me more presents" (my interpretation) so I sent that one to my parents)
What are you doing at the moment?

*They make a cologne called Woods.  This is not the cologne Beloved has (he has Fierce.)  But I think it's HILARIOUS that the men who fit the profile to shop at A&F would buy something that would make them smell outdoorsy.  Because obviously it's not in their nature to actually go into the woods.  They'd be more likely to go Into The Woods.

Friday, December 2, 2011

There Are No Bad Gifts (Besides Backgammon)

My intention was to post about our Charlie Brown Christmas tree.  But, alas and alack, my camera and computer are fighting.  As soon as I can get to a computer that's as loose as the female celebrities my age, I'll make that post happen, complete with pictures.  Until then, here's some thoughtful insight on gift-giving.  To me.


MSN published an article citing eight bad gifts to give, along with their reasoning.  I'm here to refute that and tell you why you could give me all eight of these gifts (and my mailing address, if you aren't able to see me in person to deliver.)

1.  An appliance.  I am a new homeowner.  I can think of three appliances I would replace this instant, gift-given or otherwise.  Our dryer is squeaky, though it dries clothes like that's its function.  The washing machine takes so long that I could probably beat the dirty clothes on a washboard down by the crick in less time.  And my vacuum spits the dirt back. At. me.  I would not pout if I unwrapped a Dyson.  I would plug her in and start vacuuming up the styrofoam bits that surely piled up by ripping open the packaging.
2.  The partial giftThey reference Sirius XM.  Oh, how I would love this.  I would pay the fee for monthly service.  My boss lets me use his account (5 days and you get it back, boss) and I'm addicted to the Broadway channel.  If you see IV drug users humming songs from Annie, it's because of me.  AND THEY HAVE A NEIL DIAMOND CHANNEL.  I do believe I read somewhere that Neil Diamond makes for a happy marriage.  At the very least, he disclosed at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade that he's engaged.
3.  A nose-hair trimmerGranted, this is not something I would give, but I would take it!  Beloved has no known nose-hair issue.  But eventually, when he's 80, I'm sure he will (all the cute lil old men do.)  So I'd be prepared (take that, lame Girl Scout troop I dropped out of!)  Plus, I have totally plucked unruly nose-hairs from my own sniffer, and it killed!  I'd much rather take a machine to them.  Don't get me started on the chin-hairs...
4.  The 'improving' giftOk, I can be a Judy Moody and take things to heart (just ask anyone who has spoken to me) so if I received any sort of non-cookbook 'improving' book, I'd double dose some Xanax.  But otherwise, I'm a cookbook junkie with a built-in taking up a quarter of my kitchen for just such gifts!
5.  The gift of exerciseI was a heavy child.  I was the heaviest adult.  I'm now a less-heavy adult.  I have been gifted exercise often (hello, Exerslide) and it's always been welcomed.  It has even been talked about this year, as my Mom and I have developed a co-dependent relationship with each other and the gym.
6.  A puppy.  Last year I was given a puppy.  It ran on batteries and scared the hell out of me (watch for a future post of my irrational fears) and we named it Shitlet because it was a tiny Shitzu.  So furry friends of the AA variety would totally be appropriate.  But if the Duracell pet you give me talks, know for sure I will make you euthanize it.
7.  The generic gift.  When the thought doesn't count?  I want it.  That probably sounds a little hoarderish of me, but a gift is a gift.  And generic gifts re-gift fantastically!  I'm planning to have a re-gifting party once the dust settles in late January or early February.
8.  The misleading box.  My trust issues probably stem from the misleading box.  We take nothing at face value in my family (in regards to gifts and people.)  My mother suggested that my father bring home an air compressor box for me to contain one of Beloved's Christmas presents.  Since he really really really wants an air compressor, I thought it would be cruel to wrap my equally awesome present in that box.  I have a heart, however small and black it may be.

So, may all your days be merry and bright and all that.  And know that my preference for gift wrap is pink with lots and lots of bows, but I'm not above gifts wrapped in newspaper, paper bags, old boxed wine boxes and the like.