first of all, i hope that everyone had an amazing holiday and got everything you wanted from that creepy old man who breaks into people's homes to leave gifts under the tree and eats your food and drinks milk that has been left out to grow warm ... next year i'm going to skip a step and just leave out a bowl of cottage cheese. mmm.
so, this holiday weekend my father and i travelled up to pennsylvania to visit family, namely my grandmother and then my aunt, uncle and cousins. friday night i left work and proceeded to my father's place where i stayed the night, bags packed, ready to go. we left a little after 5 am for the 4 1/2 hour trek to where my family lives. as with any road trip my father and i partake, we end up arguing about something. i love my father to death but he is stubborn, which is probably where i get my own stubborn streak. so, on the way up we start arguing about something. i can't even remember what it was, that's how trivial it is, however, i knew without a shadow of a doubt that i was in the right and of course i'm going to stick to my guns and defend myself against being called a liar by my father.
as we argue, my father gets more and more angry and i realize that i should just give up and swallow a fair amount of my pride and end this fight by acquiescing to him and telling him he's right. so ... i do just that. the argument is over ... for me, at least, but my father has to get in the last word.
my father: you just love to argue. you're argumentative.
touche, father o' mine ... touche. so, i basically sat in silence for the rest of the trip--which at this point was only about another 30 minutes--brooding and being silently angry answering his queries or comments with a grunt.
as with every argument with my father, we make up soon after and forget that anything ill had transpired. we get to our bed and breakfast--the mainstay in saxonburg, PA--which is now owned by a very cool gay couple who did amazing work with the place definitely improving it. we get our rooms, drop off our bags and we're off to visit my grandmother.
my grandmother, as some of you may know, has alzheimer's and it's progressed fairly far and she's mid to late stage 2. she still thinks i'm 15 and constantly asks me my age and is always surprised when i tell her. well, this trip i have a beard. i'm not sure i look forward to her reaction as 15 year olds shouldn't have full beards (no, not a fu man chu or mountain man ... just a light dusting of facial hair that has stepped beyond goatee and soul patch.) we get there and as expected, she doesn't recognize me at first. which is fine. she soon realizes it's me.
g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes. i love you.
g.ma: oh, i love you too, sweetheart.
approximately 5 minutes passes by.
g.ma: how old are you now, geoffrey?
me: 31, grandma.
g.ma: 31? no ... really?
me: yes.
g.ma: are you really?
me: yes, grandma. ::inward sigh::
to attempt to make a long story short, she asks me repeatedly over the course of my visit and i try so hard not to get frustrated but it's really hard not to. she is a shadow of her former self and i always get so depressed when i go visit. i hate seeing her like this, though there are some funny moments ... such as the following exchange.
after about an hour into our visit, the nursing home is having a flutist come in and play christmas music and we urge my grandmother to go as we don't want to deprive her of some enjoyment. otherwise, we'll sit in silence. so, her friend rose talks her into going so she does. she's gone about an hour and when she comes back we see her walking down the hall with rose. this is their conversation:
rose: oh, [g.ma], you have visitors.
g.ma: i do?
rose: yes. ::she points at us. apparently her alzheimer's isn't as far as my g.ma's::
g.ma: ::peers at us from down the hall:: they're here for me?
rose: yes, [g.ma].
g.ma: ::leans in and "whispers" to rose:: i don't even know who they are.
sometimes you just have to find humor in things. so, our visit with her and the rest of my family was nice and we came back home sunday evening. i got to my place a little after 7:30 and crashed. monday, i did nothing. tuesday i spent christmas with my father at his place. it was a good time. i got there for breakfast and then spent the entire day with him, getting home at about 11:30 pm last night. i was exhausted. my father surprised me with a nearly complete set of tools, complete with toolbox. i was taken aback. i feel so butch now.
i felt horrible that i wasn't able to get him any presents, but money is tight right now. i love my father so much and i would do anything for him. he's a good man, charlie brown.
so, how was everyone's holiday? get anything good?
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
"you don't own the road!" ~ an open letter to 18-wheeler drivers everywhere
i'm going to take a page from mrs.twink's book and write an open letter. why? because i feel like it. nyah!
dear sir or madam,
i'm writing with concerns at the way you and your ilk handle the large 18 wheeled vehicles on the roadways. contrary to what you may think, you do not own the road. sure, you drive a very large vehicle and i'm sure any opposition you encounter will acquiesce to your superiority, however, you give little heed to safety or concerns of other motorists.
this morning, on the way to work, i noticed not one, not two, but three incidents where you and your kind gave little to no warning when switching lanes, often forcing other drivers to brake suddenly to avoid being pulled under your immense weight or forced into roadside barriers. i, myself, felt very confined and frightened when a large truck bearing concrete pipes crossed the double lines while travelling through the fort mchenry tunnel. perhaps you didn't realize, but to my right was this large thing called a wall. perhaps you are unfamiliar with what this is, so let me explain. when a hole is bored through--or under--solid rock and/or earth, they create these concrete constructs to support the hole which would now be called a 'tunnel'. these 'walls' have no give and remain solid regardless what size vehicle is thrown at them. tunnels have the uncanny effect of being a small enclosed space that i am sure even someone such as yourself has some understanding. therefore, when you cross the double line, i think of death. my own. it's not a happy thought and makes the already stressful commute to work all the more so.
although i made it through the tunnel relatively unscathed, bearing in mind, please, that my mental state is a little fractured after this near-exchange of heavy metal pleasantries, i am worried that one day i, or another motorist, will be turned into paste.
in closing, i would ask that you please bear some consideration for other drivers and keep in mind that although you are in a rush to get where you need to go, destroying a life in the process will, more often than not, delay your eventual arrival at your destination. i will tell you right now that i am definitely a person who will--and has--call those 1-800-how-am-driving? numbers. so, do everyone a favor, including yourself, and drive more carefully. don't ruin my day or my life. thank you.
sincerely yours,
a concerned driver.
dear sir or madam,
i'm writing with concerns at the way you and your ilk handle the large 18 wheeled vehicles on the roadways. contrary to what you may think, you do not own the road. sure, you drive a very large vehicle and i'm sure any opposition you encounter will acquiesce to your superiority, however, you give little heed to safety or concerns of other motorists.
this morning, on the way to work, i noticed not one, not two, but three incidents where you and your kind gave little to no warning when switching lanes, often forcing other drivers to brake suddenly to avoid being pulled under your immense weight or forced into roadside barriers. i, myself, felt very confined and frightened when a large truck bearing concrete pipes crossed the double lines while travelling through the fort mchenry tunnel. perhaps you didn't realize, but to my right was this large thing called a wall. perhaps you are unfamiliar with what this is, so let me explain. when a hole is bored through--or under--solid rock and/or earth, they create these concrete constructs to support the hole which would now be called a 'tunnel'. these 'walls' have no give and remain solid regardless what size vehicle is thrown at them. tunnels have the uncanny effect of being a small enclosed space that i am sure even someone such as yourself has some understanding. therefore, when you cross the double line, i think of death. my own. it's not a happy thought and makes the already stressful commute to work all the more so.
although i made it through the tunnel relatively unscathed, bearing in mind, please, that my mental state is a little fractured after this near-exchange of heavy metal pleasantries, i am worried that one day i, or another motorist, will be turned into paste.
in closing, i would ask that you please bear some consideration for other drivers and keep in mind that although you are in a rush to get where you need to go, destroying a life in the process will, more often than not, delay your eventual arrival at your destination. i will tell you right now that i am definitely a person who will--and has--call those 1-800-how-am-driving? numbers. so, do everyone a favor, including yourself, and drive more carefully. don't ruin my day or my life. thank you.
sincerely yours,
a concerned driver.
Monday, December 17, 2007
dumpster diving in the big d and teriyaki chicken
this weekend was highly uneventful for me which, to say the least, is something i cherish. sometimes i love not having to do anything, you know? i think the most active i was on saturday was go to 7-11 for cream for my coffee .... hours pass ... i take a shower. that's it. i was broccoli on saturday (to steal that term from terri.)
sunday morning was a bit different, actually. as i sat on my wind-whipped balcony, sipping from my cup of 'chock full o' nuts' coffee and smoking a cigarette--yes, yes, i know ... i know--i was privy to a rarely seen event ... an outing by the 'secret dundalk society of dumpster divers.' they come in droves and sweep across the parking lot like a swarm of locusts ... i once saw a cat cross their path and when they passed, all that was left was a shiny, clean, white feline skeleton. they assault the dumpsters that, though quite useful as you don't have to wait for trash day, really do nothing for the apartment complex decor. lids are flipped open, the clang of plastic against metal reverberating off the buildings, and they begin picking, depositing cans and other items--apparently worth saving--into carts to be hauled back to their burrow. no dumpster is spared this indignity of being ripped open and pored through and, as quickly as they arrive, they leave ... the only sound is the wind and the rustling of trees ... it's almost as if they weren't really there ... ::cue dramatic, yet spooky, music:: this is why i don't throw junkmail or other items with my name and address into the trash and choose, instead, to shred them. currently, i have a bag full of stuff that needs shredding as i don't have my own shredder in my new place. ::sad frowny face::
so, later i ventured out of my apartment to hit up the grocery store for some essentials. i finally remembered to get peanut butter this time! yay! my whole reason for going to the store, however, was because i had been craving this dish my father used to make all the time when i was younger. the concept is simple, but the way it turned out quickly skyrocketed that meal to the top of my 'favorite dinner' list.
all day i wanted teriyaki chicken. now, i love teriyaki chicken anyway, but i really wanted my dad's teriyaki chicken. so, gathering the ingredients that i didn't have, i settled down to recreate the dish. it starts with teriyaki or soy sauce in a bowl ... throw in some sesame seeds ... mix in some brown sugar ... pour over seared chicken and let it cook in. now, the way my father used to make it, it used to thicken up a lot and had this sweet-sesame-soy flavor that was, at the time, to die for. my recreation, though very tasty, didn't turn out like my father's. it had a decent resemblance in taste, but the sauce didn't thicken like i remember and tasted more soy than anything. so, i'm pretty sure the problem was that i hadn't added enough brown sugar. next time, i will remedy that. but ... i ate it anyway over rice and it definitely sated my appetite.
and that's it, folks. that's my weekend. if you come to dundalk and see a crowd of people pulling carts behind them, run away and don't stop in front of them or you're likely to be picked clean!
**special shout-out to nanette for crushing on me ... i totally crush on her as well and if you haven't read her blog, i command you to do so. you will not be disappointed! big puffy heart for you, nanners!
sunday morning was a bit different, actually. as i sat on my wind-whipped balcony, sipping from my cup of 'chock full o' nuts' coffee and smoking a cigarette--yes, yes, i know ... i know--i was privy to a rarely seen event ... an outing by the 'secret dundalk society of dumpster divers.' they come in droves and sweep across the parking lot like a swarm of locusts ... i once saw a cat cross their path and when they passed, all that was left was a shiny, clean, white feline skeleton. they assault the dumpsters that, though quite useful as you don't have to wait for trash day, really do nothing for the apartment complex decor. lids are flipped open, the clang of plastic against metal reverberating off the buildings, and they begin picking, depositing cans and other items--apparently worth saving--into carts to be hauled back to their burrow. no dumpster is spared this indignity of being ripped open and pored through and, as quickly as they arrive, they leave ... the only sound is the wind and the rustling of trees ... it's almost as if they weren't really there ... ::cue dramatic, yet spooky, music:: this is why i don't throw junkmail or other items with my name and address into the trash and choose, instead, to shred them. currently, i have a bag full of stuff that needs shredding as i don't have my own shredder in my new place. ::sad frowny face::
so, later i ventured out of my apartment to hit up the grocery store for some essentials. i finally remembered to get peanut butter this time! yay! my whole reason for going to the store, however, was because i had been craving this dish my father used to make all the time when i was younger. the concept is simple, but the way it turned out quickly skyrocketed that meal to the top of my 'favorite dinner' list.
all day i wanted teriyaki chicken. now, i love teriyaki chicken anyway, but i really wanted my dad's teriyaki chicken. so, gathering the ingredients that i didn't have, i settled down to recreate the dish. it starts with teriyaki or soy sauce in a bowl ... throw in some sesame seeds ... mix in some brown sugar ... pour over seared chicken and let it cook in. now, the way my father used to make it, it used to thicken up a lot and had this sweet-sesame-soy flavor that was, at the time, to die for. my recreation, though very tasty, didn't turn out like my father's. it had a decent resemblance in taste, but the sauce didn't thicken like i remember and tasted more soy than anything. so, i'm pretty sure the problem was that i hadn't added enough brown sugar. next time, i will remedy that. but ... i ate it anyway over rice and it definitely sated my appetite.
and that's it, folks. that's my weekend. if you come to dundalk and see a crowd of people pulling carts behind them, run away and don't stop in front of them or you're likely to be picked clean!
**special shout-out to nanette for crushing on me ... i totally crush on her as well and if you haven't read her blog, i command you to do so. you will not be disappointed! big puffy heart for you, nanners!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
"i'm on fire!! help me baby jesus! help me oprah! help me tom cruise!"
last night at around 8:30 pm, i was watching television and was rudely interrupted by the clamour of a fire engine ... siren wailing, horn blaring ... now, this is not uncommon to hear the sounds of emergency vehicles when you live in the city, so attempted to drown out the sound with the volume of my television. (note: watching 'robin hood: men in tights' is significantly less enjoyable with the volume just shy of deafening.)
several minutes go by and the raucous is still out there. i hit pause, stand and look out my living room glass doors. i see nothing. i decide that it's about time for a cigarette anyway, so i grab my coat and hat and head out onto the balcony. i notice, off in the distance, the winking red and white lights belonging to the messenger of noise. seconds later the sound ceases and quiet has once again taken resident.
me: oh, guess they found it. ::i think to myself::
shortly after making this assumption, however, the sound started up again, as loud and as shrill as before. it sounds like they're getting closer. uh oh. i lean out over the balcony to check my building to be sure a fire hasn't sprung up beneath or around me. nope, nope ... all clear. i don't smell smoke either. the sound draws nearer and i see the flashing beacons reflecting off windows and vehicles in the parking lot of the apartment complex across the street.
me: now they must have found it. ::i think to myself as the sound dies once more::
sure enough, however, no sooner do i think these words when the sound, once again, cuts through the night. shortly after, i see the nose of the firetruck peek around the corner of the building that had previously been blocking my view. there is a large fire engine with a smaller 'fire chief' truck trailing behind and they are both moving very slowly through the parking lot.
me: jesus christ ... are they lost? ::i think in bewilderment, silently praying that should i ever need them, they will be much, much faster with their response time::
i watch as they leave the parking lot across the street, cross through the intersection, and make their way into my very own parking lot. i begin frantically peering around to see if my building is on fire again. i start forming an escape plan in my head ... do i jump if i can't get out? so what if i break my legs, at least i'll be alive. should i take anything with me? i really do like those shoes ... and that jacket ... oooh, what do i do??
as i poise to dart back inside and begin gathering some of my belongings, the fire engine--the noise the loudest it could possibly be ... my ears ringing ... is that blood i feel dripping down my neck?--sweeps past my apartment followed closely by the smaller vehicle.
to what do my wondering eyes should appear, but a jolly old elf, sitting on a lawn chair in the back of a fire department pick-up truck, waving. are you fucking kidding me? isn't it a little early to make your rounds, you fat man in red? all that noise--me thinking the world is ending--for a fat guy in a suit. dundalk frightens me. i guess this is quite common, however, as i was regaling some of co-workers with this story and before i could get to the punch-line, they were nodding and smiling and laughing at my discomfort.
as santa rode by, he waved, i waved back. i hope i finally get that shiny new bike i asked for when i was 7 ... stingy old man.
several minutes go by and the raucous is still out there. i hit pause, stand and look out my living room glass doors. i see nothing. i decide that it's about time for a cigarette anyway, so i grab my coat and hat and head out onto the balcony. i notice, off in the distance, the winking red and white lights belonging to the messenger of noise. seconds later the sound ceases and quiet has once again taken resident.
me: oh, guess they found it. ::i think to myself::
shortly after making this assumption, however, the sound started up again, as loud and as shrill as before. it sounds like they're getting closer. uh oh. i lean out over the balcony to check my building to be sure a fire hasn't sprung up beneath or around me. nope, nope ... all clear. i don't smell smoke either. the sound draws nearer and i see the flashing beacons reflecting off windows and vehicles in the parking lot of the apartment complex across the street.
me: now they must have found it. ::i think to myself as the sound dies once more::
sure enough, however, no sooner do i think these words when the sound, once again, cuts through the night. shortly after, i see the nose of the firetruck peek around the corner of the building that had previously been blocking my view. there is a large fire engine with a smaller 'fire chief' truck trailing behind and they are both moving very slowly through the parking lot.
me: jesus christ ... are they lost? ::i think in bewilderment, silently praying that should i ever need them, they will be much, much faster with their response time::
i watch as they leave the parking lot across the street, cross through the intersection, and make their way into my very own parking lot. i begin frantically peering around to see if my building is on fire again. i start forming an escape plan in my head ... do i jump if i can't get out? so what if i break my legs, at least i'll be alive. should i take anything with me? i really do like those shoes ... and that jacket ... oooh, what do i do??
as i poise to dart back inside and begin gathering some of my belongings, the fire engine--the noise the loudest it could possibly be ... my ears ringing ... is that blood i feel dripping down my neck?--sweeps past my apartment followed closely by the smaller vehicle.
to what do my wondering eyes should appear, but a jolly old elf, sitting on a lawn chair in the back of a fire department pick-up truck, waving. are you fucking kidding me? isn't it a little early to make your rounds, you fat man in red? all that noise--me thinking the world is ending--for a fat guy in a suit. dundalk frightens me. i guess this is quite common, however, as i was regaling some of co-workers with this story and before i could get to the punch-line, they were nodding and smiling and laughing at my discomfort.
as santa rode by, he waved, i waved back. i hope i finally get that shiny new bike i asked for when i was 7 ... stingy old man.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
the good mother returneth and gay interrogation.
so, i have a couple of things today.
first topic today is that the good mother has returned to work! yay! i'm super excited about this, no not because i missed her ... well, i did miss her, but not because we're good friends. when the good mother went on maternity leave, i was shunted into her position here at work. i don't envy her in this position because it sucks. i was always leaving work late, having to deal with piece-of-shit machines and basically was the sole person responsible for this one particular client. however ... now that the good mother is back, i can take up the reigns i had so recently relinquished. yay!
second ... today i was approached by a co-worker who wanted to talk to me. i politely indulged her communicative fancy. the conversation went something like this:
big mama: so, when did you know that you were ... uh ... you know?
me: um. not sure i follow.
bm: you know ... when you decided to be, uh ...
me: gay?
bm: ::with a visible sigh of relief:: yes, that.
me: well, firstly i didn't decide anything. it's who i am. second, i came out when i was 17 going on 18.
bm: oh. well, how do you know?
me: you mean aside from sleeping with men? ::i laughed ... she smiled wanly:: i just know.
bm: but ... i mean ... you're so cute.
me: ::silence::
bm: why aren't you with a nice girl?
me: ::silence::
bm: you're too cute to be gay.
me: wow. i don't know what to say. are gay guys generally ugly?
bm: oh, i don't know many.
me: well, i can definitely assure you that there are a lot of very cute gay guys ... just like me ::i added as an afterthought::
bm: ::she smiles:: oh, ok. well, i was just wondering.
me: ok, well. anytime you have questions.
bm: you really are a handsome boy, you know.
me: thank you.
so, although i was a little thrown at this random and sudden line of questioning, i was happy ... i love being told i'm cute and she called me a boy. yay!
sometimes it's a bit humorous when straight people try to broach the subject of homosexuality as if it's a forbidden topic or leaves a bad taste in their mouth (pun definitely intended.) i'm very open about my sexuality, though i don't announce it. however, if i am asked, i will not lie and i will talk about it if that's what they desire. i hid it for years and i got tired, long ago, of pretending to be someone else ... i'm proud of who i am and the happiest i've ever been was when i was able to reach that plateau of just not caring what people think anymore and embracing myself. yay!
i'm totally going to start a daily affirmation blog. well, probably not.
first topic today is that the good mother has returned to work! yay! i'm super excited about this, no not because i missed her ... well, i did miss her, but not because we're good friends. when the good mother went on maternity leave, i was shunted into her position here at work. i don't envy her in this position because it sucks. i was always leaving work late, having to deal with piece-of-shit machines and basically was the sole person responsible for this one particular client. however ... now that the good mother is back, i can take up the reigns i had so recently relinquished. yay!
second ... today i was approached by a co-worker who wanted to talk to me. i politely indulged her communicative fancy. the conversation went something like this:
big mama: so, when did you know that you were ... uh ... you know?
me: um. not sure i follow.
bm: you know ... when you decided to be, uh ...
me: gay?
bm: ::with a visible sigh of relief:: yes, that.
me: well, firstly i didn't decide anything. it's who i am. second, i came out when i was 17 going on 18.
bm: oh. well, how do you know?
me: you mean aside from sleeping with men? ::i laughed ... she smiled wanly:: i just know.
bm: but ... i mean ... you're so cute.
me: ::silence::
bm: why aren't you with a nice girl?
me: ::silence::
bm: you're too cute to be gay.
me: wow. i don't know what to say. are gay guys generally ugly?
bm: oh, i don't know many.
me: well, i can definitely assure you that there are a lot of very cute gay guys ... just like me ::i added as an afterthought::
bm: ::she smiles:: oh, ok. well, i was just wondering.
me: ok, well. anytime you have questions.
bm: you really are a handsome boy, you know.
me: thank you.
so, although i was a little thrown at this random and sudden line of questioning, i was happy ... i love being told i'm cute and she called me a boy. yay!
sometimes it's a bit humorous when straight people try to broach the subject of homosexuality as if it's a forbidden topic or leaves a bad taste in their mouth (pun definitely intended.) i'm very open about my sexuality, though i don't announce it. however, if i am asked, i will not lie and i will talk about it if that's what they desire. i hid it for years and i got tired, long ago, of pretending to be someone else ... i'm proud of who i am and the happiest i've ever been was when i was able to reach that plateau of just not caring what people think anymore and embracing myself. yay!
i'm totally going to start a daily affirmation blog. well, probably not.
Friday, December 7, 2007
a new way to enjoy drinking water ...
recently one of my co-workers, hazel-eyes, turned me on to a new way to drink water. it's actually surprising how many people do not drink water simply because they don't like it or it tastes bland. sure you can add lemon and give it a little bit of a tang, but not everyone likes that flavoring. however, during a conversation she was talking about beyonce and how the super star hates water and how she dresses it up. at first, what she told me sounded a little strange and i wrinkled my nose at it, however, the following day she brought in the ingredients and i was blown away by the crisp, refreshing flavor.
it's very simple ... in addition to adding lemon slices to your water, you also drop in several slices of cucumber. some of you may balk at this while others may not, but i am telling you, the taste is absolutely fantastic! it's such a light flavor and is quite refreshing and for those who don't enjoy drinking water because it is bland will enjoy the subtle flavoring of the cucumber. this is certainly my water of choice now when having dinner guests.
i recommend trying this. you will not be disappointed. well, unless you're deathly allergic to cucumber in which case:
DISCLAIMER: the poster of this blog cannot be held responsible for death, coma, hives or any allergic reaction or illness induced by consuming the aforementioned drink.
let's all get healthier together! drink more water! enjoy!
oh, and if you don't believe me, check out the recipe for yourself.
it's very simple ... in addition to adding lemon slices to your water, you also drop in several slices of cucumber. some of you may balk at this while others may not, but i am telling you, the taste is absolutely fantastic! it's such a light flavor and is quite refreshing and for those who don't enjoy drinking water because it is bland will enjoy the subtle flavoring of the cucumber. this is certainly my water of choice now when having dinner guests.
i recommend trying this. you will not be disappointed. well, unless you're deathly allergic to cucumber in which case:
DISCLAIMER: the poster of this blog cannot be held responsible for death, coma, hives or any allergic reaction or illness induced by consuming the aforementioned drink.
let's all get healthier together! drink more water! enjoy!
oh, and if you don't believe me, check out the recipe for yourself.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
lesbians make for strange bedfellows ...
i must start off by saying that the drive home last night sucked and certainly not in the good way! traffic was horrendous on 295 and then on 95 you could just barely make out the lines painted on the road. not that it mattered because no one stayed in any particular lane until we reached the tunnel.
many vehicles drove with 4-way flashers on ... cars lay askew in mini-drifts of snow at the side of the road ... there were tow trucks, salters and police cars ... OH MY! it was a complete mess and i drove grandmotherly behind some guy with his flashers on and you know what? i didn't care! i don't mind going slow in the snow when there's actual snow on the road ... not the flurry bullshit that people panic over. i'm talking icy conditions, accidents, the whole gambit. slow is the way to go. heyyyyy.
so, on the way home i had a tail ... daisy dyke, in her beefed-up, super-charged f-150--just kidding ... she drives a hyundai suv--was following me to my place as we were on a mission. our mission, should we have chosen to accept it--which we did--was to find an ice scraper/snow brush combination. sounds easy, right? fyi, i cleaned off my window with an old cd jewell case .... ghetttttttoooooooooo.
we arrive at my place, i drop off my stuff and we were on our way. our first stop ... dun dun dunnnnnnn ... walmart. i was tempted to buy an inflatable snow-globe for my balcony. i figured it would compliment the inflatable waving snowman and the inflatable santa claus already taking residence there, but i changed my mind at the last minute and removed it from my cart. i picked up a few things though none of them was an ice scraper/snow brush ... they were fresh out.
our next stop, homo depot. i picked up a couple sets of white lights to decorate the railing of my balcony with but again, ice scraper/snow brushes were extinct ... wiped out from the face of the earth. some people claim it was a huge meteor ... i think it was just thrifty and speedy shoppers.
finally we found ourselves at superfresh where i picked up some ground beef for pasta sauce, a key lime cheesecake and some other essentials. on the way out to what do my wandering eye should appear ... no, not a miniature sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer--or dill does--but the object of our search ... our holy grail. angels sang hallelujah and i snagged that bad boy!
we got home and i invited daisy dyke to stay for dinner where i prepared a scrumptious rotini pasta with some basil and garlic pasta sauce, huge chunks of ground beef and large fresh mushrooms swimming among the tomatoey goodness; a capricci salad for appetizer. we ate and then hung out for a bit watching tv and perusing the post secret blog and other 'post secret' sites. we didn't manage to have room for desert before daisy left so as a result, i have an entire key lime cheesecake and a tub of italian gelato in the freezer.
i had a great time with daisy dyke being that it was my first time hanging out with her outside of work. she's a hoot and i believe we have plans this saturday. yay. i fell asleep to 'premonition' with sandra bullock in it ... this is my 4th or 5th attempt to watch this movie and it's not boring, i am just so tired when i try to watch it. i may try again tonight. each night i get a little bit further so, if following suit, i should finish it by sunday night.
speaking of movies, mrs.twink, i just remembered the worst movie i have ever seen--i couldn't even finish it and that's unlike me as i always try to finish a movie to the end, regardless of the murder of braincells they often inflict--was 'idiocracy' starring luke wilson and maya rudolph. holy shit that movie made me want to eat a bullet. you should totally watch it!
many vehicles drove with 4-way flashers on ... cars lay askew in mini-drifts of snow at the side of the road ... there were tow trucks, salters and police cars ... OH MY! it was a complete mess and i drove grandmotherly behind some guy with his flashers on and you know what? i didn't care! i don't mind going slow in the snow when there's actual snow on the road ... not the flurry bullshit that people panic over. i'm talking icy conditions, accidents, the whole gambit. slow is the way to go. heyyyyy.
so, on the way home i had a tail ... daisy dyke, in her beefed-up, super-charged f-150--just kidding ... she drives a hyundai suv--was following me to my place as we were on a mission. our mission, should we have chosen to accept it--which we did--was to find an ice scraper/snow brush combination. sounds easy, right? fyi, i cleaned off my window with an old cd jewell case .... ghetttttttoooooooooo.
we arrive at my place, i drop off my stuff and we were on our way. our first stop ... dun dun dunnnnnnn ... walmart. i was tempted to buy an inflatable snow-globe for my balcony. i figured it would compliment the inflatable waving snowman and the inflatable santa claus already taking residence there, but i changed my mind at the last minute and removed it from my cart. i picked up a few things though none of them was an ice scraper/snow brush ... they were fresh out.
our next stop, homo depot. i picked up a couple sets of white lights to decorate the railing of my balcony with but again, ice scraper/snow brushes were extinct ... wiped out from the face of the earth. some people claim it was a huge meteor ... i think it was just thrifty and speedy shoppers.
finally we found ourselves at superfresh where i picked up some ground beef for pasta sauce, a key lime cheesecake and some other essentials. on the way out to what do my wandering eye should appear ... no, not a miniature sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer--or dill does--but the object of our search ... our holy grail. angels sang hallelujah and i snagged that bad boy!
we got home and i invited daisy dyke to stay for dinner where i prepared a scrumptious rotini pasta with some basil and garlic pasta sauce, huge chunks of ground beef and large fresh mushrooms swimming among the tomatoey goodness; a capricci salad for appetizer. we ate and then hung out for a bit watching tv and perusing the post secret blog and other 'post secret' sites. we didn't manage to have room for desert before daisy left so as a result, i have an entire key lime cheesecake and a tub of italian gelato in the freezer.
i had a great time with daisy dyke being that it was my first time hanging out with her outside of work. she's a hoot and i believe we have plans this saturday. yay. i fell asleep to 'premonition' with sandra bullock in it ... this is my 4th or 5th attempt to watch this movie and it's not boring, i am just so tired when i try to watch it. i may try again tonight. each night i get a little bit further so, if following suit, i should finish it by sunday night.
speaking of movies, mrs.twink, i just remembered the worst movie i have ever seen--i couldn't even finish it and that's unlike me as i always try to finish a movie to the end, regardless of the murder of braincells they often inflict--was 'idiocracy' starring luke wilson and maya rudolph. holy shit that movie made me want to eat a bullet. you should totally watch it!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
