missing in action: my holiday cards

It is Christmas Eve's Eve and I haven't mailed out any holiday cards. Okay, that's a lie, I mailed out four cards, so those four people should be grateful to receive such a rare and amazing gift. You are so very welcome.

I really had the best intentions of getting cards in the mail early this year. I bought a couple of nice boxes from Paper Source and even rounded up all the addresses I thought I would need. I didn't go so far as to buy stamps, but I did look at some on usps.com, so that counts for something. But then something happened, I don't know what, but my plan to mail the cards fell apart. In fact, right now I don't have a clue where the boxes of cards are hiding. I'm sure they'll turn up on the 26th and I'll have to talk myself out of mailing them then.

By not sending many cards this year, have I gotten myself bumped from my friend's card list for next year? Will I have a year of no cards, where I have to atone for my no holiday card sins from this year? Will I not get any cards until I send a card first? I'm honestly worried about this because I love getting holiday cards. I promise, next year I'll be on the ball! I'll mail the cards the day I buy them! I will not slack!

In other "I'm stupid" news, I'm going to the mall tomorrow. The stores open at 8am and I'm going to try to get there as close to that time as possible. In and out, that's my goal. Stop laughing. Really, it can be done. Just you watch.

I'm not sleeping enough, keep that in mind while you read

All day today I've been feeling pukey. Pukey complete with dry heaves. Fun, right? I hadn't really had anything to eat and thought that could be the cause of the nausea so I grabbed some oatmeal. Then I chased it with some Chex Mix Chocolate Turtle. I was pretty sure I wouldn't puke up the oatmeal, but I wasn't so certain about the Chex Mix. And really, if i'm going to eat anything that might be a puking threat, I want it to be chocolate because when it comes back up, it is extra gross. I know this because one time I made a friend a chocolate cake, which we ate while drinking our way through a bottle of vodka. Later, while we were puking, (one in the bathroom, the other off the front porch. classy!) we couldn't stop laughing at the fact that our puke was black. Because when you're 21, black puke is hella funny.

Anyway, back to the dry heaves. I'm not sure why I've been feeling so under the weather lately. It could be thanks to a lack of sleep, which has also been plaguing me. I've had no problems going to sleep, but every night for the past two weeks I've woken up between 3:30 and 5am. I'm fully awake, and could probably actually get out of bed and do something useful if it weren't 3:30 in the fucking morning. The first couple of nights that this happened I was able to get back to sleep pretty easily but that has stopped happening. Last night I laid in bed for a good hour, tossing and turning, trying to get back to sleep.

Today I was able to stay in pajamas, alternating between the couch and the bed. If I don't sleep well tonight I can lounge around all day tomorrow until jparks and I attend a dinner at a restaurant run by a cult. But on Monday I have to drag myself to work, where a nap after lunch isn't an option. So this whole not sleeping through the night thing needs to stop. And I bet if it leaves then the dry heaves will go with it. And the stuffiness I've been dealing with for a few days. If I don't start making it through the night then I can't promise that I won't take a mid afternoon nap in our storage office at work. And while the floor in that office is pretty gross, I can turn the lights off without too many people noticing and that trumps grossness. Maybe I should throw a bag with a blanket and pillow in there. Man, I'm pathetic.

spreading holiday cheer

In Christmases past I was an on the ball gift giver. I used to brag that I always managed to get my shopping done by the week before Thanksgiving, because I am awesome and you are a failure. Also because the mall after Thanksgiving just about scares the ever living crap out of me. The relentless Christmas songs! The ugly festive sweaters! And why is it always so warm in there? I sweat and sweat and then sweat some more and that makes me sad.

Of course that was before home ownership, or as I like to call it, the time of zero disposable income. This year I started Christmas shopping on the Sunday after Thanksgiving and only bought two things. I have since then bought my mom's Christmas gift online and that's really about it. But my gift list is no shorter than it has been in any past year, which leaves me in quite a pickle.

Today, knowing that I needed a few more gifts, I went to World Market on my lunch. I found a few things I wanted, headed to the registers to check out but then I was stopped dead in my tracks. There were only two cashiers open and each had at least fifteen people in line. I'm sorry people that I was going to buy gifts for, but I would have lost my mind if I had waited to check out. I planned on hitting a mall tomorrow at lunch, but have changed my mind. Having to come up with bail money after punching a fellow shopper in the back of the head doesn't seem like a good economic decision in these recession-ish times.

So my question is: can I just wimp out and buy gift cards for anyone that I have left on my list? And can I wait to buy those gift cards until after Christmas? I mean, does it say "Oh, you got me a gift and I didn't get you one so I ran out and got you this thoughtless gift card after the fact"? What if I present the gift card with some homemade cookies? Everyone likes cookies, so that makes it better, right?

let's not build something together

At some point in the past two years I have become an angry, letter writing, cranky old woman. It started when Whole Foods sold me some foul tuna. Jparks and I had planned a meal around this tuna and when we opened the pack, I wanted to vomit. It smelled horrible, beyond fishy, and we decided that even if we covered it in some kind of sauce, there was no way we could eat it. So we threw away $15 worth of tuna and I was not happy about it. We probably had cereal for dinner that night because once I'm home, there is no leaving the house again.

The next day I wrote a letter to the manager of my local Whole Foods and felt much better. Letter writing was awesome! I got to complain, without actually having to go to the store, ask for the manager, wait for him to drag his ass up front, explain the situation, explain it again when he just stares at me blankly, and then accept his weak apology while being able to see just how much he doesn't care about me and my tuna issues. Viva la letter writing!

I had been happy in my letter writing ways up until this morning. See, our Christmas tree is officially dead. I can no longer deny it, nor can I do anything to save it, that sucker is DEAD. And I am pissed. I mean, Christmas trees usually last forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but longer than two weeks. I immediatly wanted to write a letter complaining to Lowe's, but I also want a new tree. And while a letter might yield a gift card from them at some point down the road, I need that new tree now. So I called the store this morning and then swallowed some broken glass bits just for comparative purposes. In the end I decided that the glass swallowing was the more pleasant experience.

I asked to speak to a manager and I'm fairly certain I was put through to a bored employee pretending to be a manager. I told her my tree had died, that I thought it was unusual, and asked if anyone else has complained about trees purchased from them. She responded with "Well, you have to water it." "Yeah I understand that, which is why I water it every morning." "Well, I don't know what to tell you."

She then offered to transfer me to the gardening center because "they might have more information for you regarding tree care" but I hung up before the transfer went through. The last thing I need is to be told to water the tree again. Unfortunately the phone call left me mad enough to still want to write a letter and to publicly shame Lowe's with a blog post.

Shame on you Lowe's! You suck! Now I have to go buy another tree (which, yes I will be doing this weekend because I must have a tree) which will just make me bitter and angry, because I have already bought and paid for one tree this year. (For the record, the second tree will not come from Lowe's).

Lowe's, I'm giving you the virtual stink eye. You should expect my letter shortly.

tardy to the party

I know in the past I've said I'll watch any show Bravo airs, but that was a lie. What I meant to say was I'll watch any reality competition or spin off from a reality competition that Bravo airs. Of course I watch the popular competitions, like Project Runway and Top Chef, but I'm also a total sucker for Top Design and Shear Genius. And I'm not above admitting to watching the whole series of Make Me A Supermodel. Honestly, sometimes the less brain activity a show requires on my part, the better.

On Saturday afternoon I was searching for something mindless to watch so I could relax and maybe take a nap, but I discovered that I had nothing on tivo worthy of half-conscious viewing. I clicked through over to Bravo hoping that there would be a Top Chef marathon but instead found a Housewives of Atlanta marathon. And people, that was television gold.

I caught the last episode of the season and the reunion episode, where one housewife had to sit on another so she wouldn't beat the ass of a third housewife. It was awesome. After the reunion episode, the Real Housewives of Orange County came on and it was good too. I have no idea why I resisted the Real Housewives for so long, but I'm making up for lost time by picking up season passes to both of them.

Jparks tried to watch a bit of the shows with me and made it through about twenty minutes before he just couldn't stand it anymore. He really tried his best, but he couldn't get over the fact that I was willing to watch a show where a fight that happened in an earlier episode was still heavily talked about and yet, no one mentions what the fight is about. "Why do they all hate each other?" "I don't know." 4 minutes later "Why do they all hate each other?" "You have seen exactly as much as me, so how could I possibly know if you don't." Not long after that he left the room muttering under his breath about how stupid the show is. He is obviously of a mindset that all television viewing needs to be high quality, like his favorite show Stargate Atlantis.

So, is anyone else watching the Real Housewives? Why do Nene and Kim hate each other? And who is Kim's Big Poppa? And why does Kim insist that she's 29? And as for the Housewives of the OC, OMG I just love them all. I think I need to see if the past three seasons are available on dvd because I need to start at the beginning. Maybe get to the bottom of why Don doesn't fill Vicki's love tank anymore. Or find out why Jeana is allowing her ex-husband to live in her house. I have so many unanswered questions!

glitter and strippers and christmas, oh my!

The Christmas tree we brought home last weekend is crapping out on us. Our living room floor is completely covered in needles no matter how many times we sweep. Every time I plug in the lights, a plethora of needles rains down. Tangi bats at an ornament and ends up needle coated. I pour water into the stand and have to shake my hair out. I do not understand, why is my tree shedding at such an astounding rate? Seriously, if it keeps losing needles at this rate it will be totally bare by Christmas. I've never had a tree do this before, are there recent innovations in the Christmas tree industry that I should know about that help keep the tree needle covered?

Besides having a house covered in pine needles, we also have a light dusting of glitter everywhere thanks to the tree topper I made. It's like we had a party but only invited strippers, who then rubbed all over every surface in our house. I don't think we hosted such a party, but you never know, I'm not here all the time. But the house doesn't smell like stripper so I think it's safe to blame the tree topper.

Despite the constant sweeping and strip club interior of my house, I still think the tree is worth it. I don't think it would feel like Christmas without it, especially since jparks and I have already exchanged most of our gifts. We're traditional like that. And for the record, I'm not 100% sold on the blue lights on the tree. Outside, yes. On a tree, not so much. I'm a white light purist.

overly excited by the little things

Today has been one of those days where I just felt all wonky. Not sick or bad, just generally disconnected from the stuff happening around me. In every situation something felt off and a couple of times something was actually off. Like the driver that decided he wanted to be in my lane right that very second and would be damned if my car was going to stop them. Or the weird guy at Whole Foods that I thought was a company rep offering samples of cookies, but was actually just a crazy guy that opened a pack of cookies and was giving them out.

So yeah, today was just an odd day where nothing felt quite right. And when I checked my mail and found a small package addressed to Mr. Regan Parks, I figured it was just par for the course. The package was from the Disables Veterans Foundation and appeared to contain a small statue or something similar that they were hoping would be so awe inspiring I would whip out my checkbook and make a donation right then. I loved random and weird crap, so immediately my head filled with ideas of what it could be. Statue of a guy missing limbs? Maybe an old guy wearing an eye patch and saluting? The options were endless.

Which is why, when I opened the box and saw a mug, I was rather disappointed. A mug? Boring. But then I pulled the mug out and saw this:

Not only had they addressed the package to Mr. Regan Parks, but they printed my name like that ON THE MUG. I actually get a lot of junk mail suggesting that I'm in possession of a penis, but I have never received a mug. Good job Disabled Vets, you have just sent me my new favorite free thing I have ever received via the mail.

Plus the other side has a bitchin' eagle on it:


What's the most bizarre free thing you've gotten in the mail?

oh tannenbaum

Last night jparks and I went to purchase our first Christmas tree. Upon purchasing it, the kid working in the tree center tossed it through the wrapping tube thing for us and then threw it on top of our car. As I stood there, expecting him to tie it down for us, he started to walk away. Suddenly he stopped, turned back, and asked "Do you guys have any twine?" Uh no, that's what you're for. You provide the twine and tying service, I provide the cash tip. This is the system I have known and loved for many years, don't go rocking the boat now, sonny.

"No, we didn't bring any."

"Okay, we've got some."

The kid comes back and hands the twine to jparks as I quickly stash his tip back into my purse. Now here's the part where I make the fatal error, I allow jparks to start tying the tree to the car with no input from me. And while under normal circumstances jparks requires little to no adult supervision, this is definitely a time when I should have been paying more attention. The problem was that my Grinch of a husband had never purchased a Christmas tree before and therefore had never see a tree tying professional in action. When I finally put the camera down for a second, and saw the final product, I nearly died laughing in the parking lot of Lowe's. I am in no way exaggerating.

Here's a picture of jparks while he was tying the tree to the car. Look closely and tell me what you notice:



Did you notice that he tied the tree through the doors and now opening them will be impossible? The best part was when I asked him if that was what he had done, he was all "NO! OH MY GOD, Do you think I'm stupid? I would NEVER do that!" And then he tried to open the door for me and I died right there in the parking lot.

After much grumbling from him and laughter from me, he managed to pry the door open about 4 inches so I could squeeze through. I really wanted to get in Duke of Hazard style through the window but jparks was opposed to that. Probably because he didn't want to draw anymore attention to his masterpiece.

The best part was when we finally got back to our house, I opened my car door and then jparks opened his, causing mine to slam shut rather loudly. Luckily no limbs were injured, so I sat there laughing for a good three or four minutes. In fact, I was laughing so hard that I couldn't even get out of the car and had to wait for jparks to untie the tree so I could open the door all the way.

Thankfully we managed to get the tree into the house incident free and it only took us two days and three Target visits to get all the lights I needed for it. We have a few ornaments hung, and still could use more. But the house smells like Christmas time, so I don't mind.

chatter

Today jparks and I went to see Quantum of Solace and ended up sitting next to two kids that couldn't shut up during the movie. As we sat there in the dark I could hear the murmur of their conversation and I could feel my blood pressure rise. I know no one likes when people talk during movies, but I get so angry over it that I really can't enjoy the movie because I'm sitting in my seat, oozing with hate for the people that are chatting it up and imaging how good it would feel to punch them in their big, yapping mouths. In my fantasy world, the rest of the theatre breaks out in applause after I punch them and then quickly goes back to enjoying the movie in silence. SILENCE, as god intended humans to watch movies.

The talkers today were a young couple and jparks' theory is that they both lived at home and were forced into a theatre for some private time. Because, oh yes, they were making out as well as talking. Normally I'm okay with moving far away from chatters, but the theatre was a packed house and the only other seating option was the front row. So we stayed put and I seethed my way through the movie, occasionally grabbing jparks' hand and squeezing the hell out of it when the two idiots would start another freaking conversation.

It used to be that I would just tell people like this to shut the hell up. Or I would ask them if they realized a movie was playing and perhaps they could shut the fuck up while it was on. But now I don't say anything because I'm horribly afraid that the talkers will want to fight after the movie and the last thing I want is to be the reason jparks ends up in a fist fight. I'm not above getting myself into a fight, but I doubt the guy half of the talker couple is going to allow the girl half to fight me. No, normally the guy talker is the kind of asshat that's willing to throw down any place, any time and I'm just not willing to put jparks in that kind of situation.

So my question is, what's the best thing to say to movie talkers that wouldn't result in a fight? I really spent a large chunk of the movie running bits of dialogue through my head and none of it sounded nice. Even "please be quite" came off as bitchy. Would a simple "shhh" be best? Should I have gotten an usher? Can they even do anything to movie talkers anymore? And how obvious would it have been to leave my seat and have an usher follow me back in while I point a finger at the talkers? I think saying something directly to them is better. But what?

PS: The talkers felt the need to kiss every time Bond kissed someone on screen and at one point the guy draped a jacket over his lap and the girl laid down under it. Thankfully this only lasted for a second, because if she had started any funny business, I would have been forced to punch her in the back of the head, resulting in her biting down on his junk. And I'm pretty sure jparks and I would have had to run for our lives in that situation.

lesson learned

So, uh, about the outlet mall. Yeah, that was a really bad idea. The next time you guys hear me say something like that, just backhand me. It was honestly comically bad and jparks and I spent the better part of the night giggling to ourselves about how awful the whole situation was.

me: "Well, you can't say this isn't an adventure."
jparks: "Yeah, adventure might be an understatement"

The stores all were set to open at midnight and before leaving the house we debated if going right at opening was the best option or if waiting until 3am was smarter. We finally decided to just bite the bullet and get the trip over with early. As we approached the exit off of 101, traffic came to a stop. At first we thought it was an accident, which it was, but it didn't clear up after that. We figured it would take an hour just to get from our spot to the traffic lights at the end of the exit, and figured it was a better bet to pass the exit and try to navigate surface streets, in a town we've never been to, at 12am, than to wait in line. This plan was our only success of the night.

When we finally got to the outlets, parking was a joke. We ended up parking in an abandoned WalMart parking lot, which was a decent walk away from the stores. There were lights powered by generators throughout the parking lot, but the hike to the mall was not lit at all. Nothing says fun like walking down a dark road in the middle of the night.

Once we approached the actual stores we could see that many had lines to get into the door. Basically any store I had an interest in had a line: JCrew, Gap, Nike Store, Aldo, and Banana Republic. Seriously, when we rounded the corner on the Banana Republic outlet, I nearly died. Their line was probably the longest and the wait was easily 45 minutes, as was the wait at the checkout lines. I quickly learned that my time is worth more to me than my money, because we decided not to wait. I just couldn't imagine waiting that long to get in there and then not finding a single thing to buy. Or worse, finding one thing that I love and then having to wait another 45 minutes to check out.

The only stores we ended up going in were kitchen stores. And the Gold Toe store. By the end of the night our joke was that we were there to hit all the stores that only people over 70 would shop in. "Look sonny, the sock store has 30% off all their merchandise! Let's go stock you up and then see if we can find some underwear for the rest of your Christmas gift!" Besides buying jparks three packs of socks, we also bought an oven thermometer, a set of poach pods, and a griddle. Basically all things we could have bought on any other night of the year, at a normal store, where we were fearing death by stampede if we stopped moving for one second.

We didn't leave the outlets until 2:45 and, while traffic coming into the area had disappeared, the sheer volume of people had not decreased at all. Basically, even if we had waited to leave our house until 3am, we still wouldn't have made it into any of the other stores. I'm so sorry that I didn't listen to all the people that have been telling me what a bad idea going to the outlets was. Yes, jparks and I had a lot of fun laughing about the situation, but it also would have been nice to be in bed at a normal hour.

On our way home we stopped to get gas and saw a Best Buy. Jparks didn't believe me about people camping out at them, so I made him cruise through the parking lot. Sure enough the line of people started at the front doors and wrapped all the way down the side of the building. We both agreed that it's one thing to be up and walking around an outlet mall at 3am, but camping out at Best Buy is another thing entirely. The people waiting had chairs, coolers, and sleeping bags, which I guess if you're going to wait in line, you might as well be as comfortable as possible.

We've already decided that next year we're skipping the midnight madness outlet mall trip, in favor of camping out in front of a store. But we're not camping out at Best Buy, Target, or WalMart. No, we're going to camp out some place unexpected. Maybe the Vitamin Shoppe or Leslie's Swimming Pool Supplies. I just think those stores are really overlooked on Black Friday.

thankgiving day 08

In two hours jparks and I will be heading to the outlet mall. It is against our better judgment to do this, but whatever, I think it might be fun. Or it might be total chaos and mayhem and I'll get a blog post out of it. Either way, I'm happy. But I am bringing a camera in case any good cat fights break out.

We've had two meals today, one at Parcel 104 and one made by me. Not to toot my own horn, but toot toot bitches! My meal was way better. I made a turkey breast in my crock pot (really people, do this soon. So easy and really good.) I had green bean casserole (vomit), sweet potatoes half covered in pecans, half in marshmallows, roasted asparagus, homemade cranberry sauce, and the winning dish of the night, whiskey glazed carrots.

Before I made the carrots, I thought the sweet potatoes would take the title of Best Thing I Put In My Mouth Today. I made them with butter, heavy cream, maple syrup, and a bit of orange zest. They were like velvet and I honestly considered taking the casserole dish upstairs for some private time. But then the carrots came off the stove and I was all "Sweet what? Potato who?" The carrots have the flavor of the whiskey but also some sweetness from brown sugar. The sauce that they cook in is so tasty I want to eat it by the spoonful. I almost could have skipped dessert for it. Which might have been the smart thing to do considering that dessert was almost a total FAIL.

I made pumpkin pie and pecan pie and only one came out edible. Pecan pie is jparks' favorite pie and he has been talking about it for days now. It was my first time making it and I was arrogantly not worried about it, because I seem to think of myself as a baking goddess. The pie sat on the table cooling for a couple of hours after coming out the oven, and yet when jparks cut it, the guts oozed out, still completely liquid. Damn you pecan pie! You've made a mockery of me! A pox on you and your family!

I hope that everyone's Thanksgiving went well and that your pecan pies were edible and tasty. If I don't post tomorrow you know that I've been trampled while grabbing for sweaters at the Banana Republic Outlet where everything is 40%. And that folks, is worth staying up all night for.

Thanksgiving eve

While the rest of the world is saving their energy to cook tomorrow, tonight I've been kicking some serious kitchen ass. I made jparks and I dinner (smokey miso tofu that he was meh about) and a strawberry cake for dessert. Then, because my first Christmas present finally arrived (a pink food processor) I made cranberry scones. I'm honestly not sure what I love more right now, the scones or the food processor. How the hell have I lived without either for so long?

Tomorrow morning I have my turkey trot. This might make me a dork, but I've always wanted to run a turkey trot. Is it any different than a regular race? No, but the name is fun. Turkey Trot! And after running it I qualify for a second piece of pie. Win-win!

And so long as we are moving in 20 different directions during this post, here's a picture of me modeling a pie I made last night.

spreading Thanksgiving goodwill

Have I mentioned that this year jparks and I decided to not host Thanksgiving dinner for a billion people like we did last year? Nothing personal billion people that attended last year, it's just that I'm lazy and that was a hell of a lot of work. This year I made us dinner reservations at a fancy restaurant and called it a day.

At least I did, until realizing that I actually like cooking, especially Thanksgiving foods. Before I knew what was going on I had purchased a turkey breast. And four pie shells, cranberries, carrots, asparagus, sweet potatoes, mini marshmallows, and dinner rolls. Holy crap, I'm making a Thanksgiving dinner to eat after we go out to a Thanksgiving lunch. People, there is something wrong with me. I see that now. But honestly, the thought of not having leftover turkey for sandwiches or sweet potatoes made with crispy marshmallows on top was killing me.

The only downside to this last minute Thanksgiving feast has been that I've had to deal with the grocery store this week. Last year I stocked up early and got as much shopping done before Thanksgiving week as possible. This year I've braved the grocery story twice on Monday and twice today, each time cursing under my breath about how stupid people really are. Have they never seen a grocery store before? Are carts new fangled devices that perplex them? Will other shoppers cheer if I punch the woman ahead of me in the ovaries?

I mean, I just really don't get it. It's a grocery store. 99.9% of them across the country are the same. Yes, some may have larger or smaller versions of certain sections, but generally ALL THE SAME. Just because our Safeway has a nut bar that doesn't mean you need to block the three aisles around it while you oooh and ahhh over the "worldly selection of roasted nuts! Ohhh look they even have spiced almonds! Sold warm!" I know it's exciting, but push your cart to one side of the aisle before I ram my cart into your calves. If I don't get my point across with the first ramming, I will do it again.

If it turns out I haven't bought something I need, I plan on figuring out how to do without it. Because, seriously, going back to the store might land my ass in jail. I'm not above shanking a bitch over a dozen eggs or a gallon of milk.

yay for overpriced stuff!

It's time for another round of Things I Am Too Old To Own, But Kinda Want Anyway, subtitled: Really Pottery Barn Teen, That's For Teens?

First up are some wall panels that I want for my bedroom:


And I'll also take these pictures:


I love this quilt and really wouldn't complain if Pottery Barn wanted to send me the whole room for free. Including the trophies. I never got trophies as a kid:


It's a shame this lamp is only available in the red stripes, because it would be really cute in blue or green:


I'm a sucker for anything they make in their shade of green, including this lamp:


My kitchen is painted green and I have pink accents with the pink mixer, pink utensils crock, and pink toaster. What I don't have is a pink coffeepot:


Um, really? A plasma tv built into the footboard? My guess is that the teen that has this room was also on My Super Sweet 16.


This bed is so sickly sweet it makes me want to vomit, but in a good way:


The name of this just kills me. "The Mega Furlicious Beanbag" I think it should be called "My Daddy killed a yeti and made me a beanbag cover from it! OMG, right?!? teehee!"

sometimes the outcome justifies the fight

Yesterday jparks and I were having a fight slight disagreement, as we often do on the weekends, and I would love to tell you exactly what we were disagreeing about, I haven't the slightest idea. And while I normally don't enjoy disagreeing with jparks, yesterday's fight ended with me not having to deal with his clean laundry anymore, and OMG that makes the disagreement totally worth it.

See, jparks has the tendency to wear fancy clothes, unlike all the other engineers at Google who happily wear their free Google tee shirts. But not my jparks, daily he wears slacks and button downs that have to be ironed. By me. All the freaking time. If I don't get stay on top of the laundry, the pile can easily grow as tall as our dresser and then I have to spend a full weekend day ironing.

But now I'm free and the man who once said he has a personality and that's why he doesn't wear khaki pants will now be in charge of his own laundry. Yesterday afternoon I pulled all of my clean clothes out of the pile, ironed them, and put them away. As things come out of the dryer I throw jparks' stuff onto his growing pile and my stuff gets put away. You wouldn't believe how much quicker the laundry goes when I'm only dealing with half of it.

The only downside is that now jparks will be wearing his clothes wrinkled since he won't iron. Because you know, nothing says "I won't wear a tee shirt because I'm better than that" like wearing horrifically wrinkled clothes. Should you see him in the next few days and he looks like a homeless guy heading to a business meeting, please feel free to make fun of him. That's assuming you can talk through your laughter.

gratitutious use of the word shit

Jparks and I are currently dog-sitting for some friends of ours and the other night we caught their dog eating shit. Immediately after that I caught Lily nibbling on some shit as if she were sampling it to determine its tastiness level. Let me help you out Lily, IT IS SHIT. NOT TASTY. NOT EVEN LEVEL ONE TASTY.

Now, anytime either dog moves to lick me, I yell "Back shit-eater! No licking!" Jparks maintains that this was just a one off episode and neither dog has consumed any shit since then, but I'm not so certain. We're not home to monitor what goes into their mouths twenty four hours a day and I'm not willing to risk it. Jparks also maintains that I'm fighting a losing battle and that when we have kids they'll be eating shit and other things just as vile. To which I always remark "I don't know what you ate as a kid, but I NEVER ate shit. I was smarter than that."

But he swears I'm wrong and that children out there eat shit. He's so certain of this, that he has asked me to "put it to the internets." So, what do you say internets; did you eat shit as a child? Has your child ever eaten shit? What about anything as disgusting as shit?

a friday post, not in bullet form

While everyone else in the whole wide world is seeing Twilight this evening, I'll be at a Warriors basketball game for work. And it's not even like I get to enjoy the game. No, I just get to battle rush hour, Bay Area traffic to be at the Oracle Arena for 2 hours, get back in my car, and battle the stupid traffic back home. And it's not like I live anywhere close to the arena either, so I have every right to be whiny right now. Just like the tween girl that I am. Oh Edward, I love you so! The way you sparkle! The way your eyes shine like amber stones! I could murmur bad teenage poetry into you ear all night long and then we'll break a bed as the sun rises!

The highlight of my day has been this:


I filled up my car for $24.50! With the super special 91 octane gas even! $24.50! When the handle stopped pumping and I saw the dollar amount, I did a little happy jump. And this wasn't even at some scary gas place where the gas is diluted with water, this was at a Shell! After paying $4.99 per gallon, this nearly brought me to tears.

Happy Twilight Day Friday!

wow, that really exploded

Oh internet, I am so sorry that the feud with Slynnro has gotten so out of hand. I wave my white flag of surrender:


Please accept my apologies and peace offering:


Slynnro, let's hug this shit out, okay?

the internet is full of nut jobs

I'm a nice person, right? Yeah, I'm a little sarcastic occasionally, but generally nice. Which is why I don't understand why this strange person on flickr hates me so much.

It started here:

She left this comment on one of her pictures after I left a comment that was perfectly acceptable and nice. Crazy chick attacks me saying I'm a bitch and that she's going to block me. I mean, really?!?

Then, later in the same day, this pops up on another person's picture:


I think that comment confirms that she is totally nuts. Like the kind of nuts that requires professional help. I think the safest bet in dealing with this Slynnro is to just back away from her. Not acknowledge any of her crazy ass comments, not mention the fact that she's bat-shit insane, and if I ever see her in person, not make eye contact. I think that this is the best course of action.

Also, I'm totally cute, right?

Questions!

Tonight I made this for dinner. It was really good, but now I have a block of Velveeta cheese left. Does anyone have another good recipe that uses a hell of a lot of Velveeta?

Can anyone explain to me why it is that I run and try my best to practice portion control and I can't lose weight, yet jparks does the wii fit for 10 to 20 minutes a day and manages to lose weight at a steady rate?

Why is it hot in the Bay Area in November? I have sweaters I need to wear, dammit.

I need a pedicure, but running has turned some of my toenails black (not all black, just a black spot) ((also, toenails, barf)). Do I need to continue to wait for the pedicure because if I go now the little asian ladies will talk about me in asian whispers? Or can I just go and get the damn pedicure?

Why is it that everything I wanted to buy jparks for Christmas he has bought for himself, or been given as a gift, this week?

Why is my face breaking out like I'm 14 all over again? Was I not punished enough my first run through puberty? Do I really need to go through it again?

I have no reason to wear a fancy dress this holiday season. Anyone want to take me out so I can get dressed up? I promise to wear cute shoes and I'm an excellent date for company holiday parties.

Does anyone have a favorite rum ball recipe? mmm, rum balls.

kicking off the holiday season

Tonight we hung some Christmas lights on the porch. (shut it, I don't care that Thanksgiving isn't here yet) I went with two strands of blue LEDs and two strands of white ones and just sort of wrapped them around the railing on the front of the porch. I'm sure my neighbors will out decorate me in two weeks, but whatever, my lights kick ass right now.

And since I'm not one to stop when something can be done bigger, I'm going back to Target and getting more lights for the porch. All that's left is for me to figure out how you attach the lights to exterior walls without nails or hooks. Duct tape or is that a bit trashy? If it is, I'm going all out and am buying the teal or neon orange duct tape. Why be a little trashy when you can go full trailer park?

I know this looks doesn't look like much, but it's the first picture of our first Christmas without going back to New Orleans. And if things keep going this way, I'm not so sure it's going to suck as much as I was expecting.

mascaras a'plenty

I've been trying to clean out some of the closets and drawers in our house and this has led me to realize some things that I knew, but that I didn't know. Like that I actually own more pairs of nice jeans than I need. That my clothes weight enough to break the closet rod. And that I have a bit of a mascara addiction.



Hello world, I'm Regan and I have a total mascara addiction. I can't see a mascara and not feel compelled to buy it. And it doesn't help that I haven't found a mascara that I'm willing to commit to yet. I've found some that I like a whole lot and am even willing to buy more than once (as you can tell from the 4 tubes of Lash Exact), but I just keep thinking that there has to be a better one out there.

And since I know you're really dying to know what I think about these, here goes, from left to right:

Max Factor Vivid Impact Highlighting Mascara. This one sucks. It's a duel wand, with black on one side and a silver "highlighting color" on the other. Except it doesn't highlight as much as massively clump. I should really just toss it as I'm never going to use it again.

Avon SuperSHOCK. I actually really liked this one a lot, but I thought it dried up really quickly. I would have bought it again if the tube had lasted longer.

MAC mascara X. This used to be my favorite, but has been replaced. It's long lasting and the color is rich, but it's not all that lengthening.

L'Oreal Double Extend Lash Extension Effect. This one's new as of today so I don't know yet. Hopefully it won't suck.

BADgal Lash. Benefit makes great products and this mascara is no different. I've only had it a week, but I'm loving it thus far. I found this formula to be thick, but not clumpy. The brush is a bit on the big side, which makes it hard for me to apply it to my lower lashes, so I usually don't bother. Honestly, I don't usually bother with the lower lashes no matter the mascara.

the colossal volum' express. I liked this one a lot until I got BADgal lash. I also keep reading reviews that says it smells like printer toner and I don't get that. And I've even gone back to sniff the tube a couple of times just to make sure.

Cover Girl Lash Exact. Maybe I'm just a sheep and am easily swayed by commercials and marketing, but I love this mascara's plastic brush thing. It doesn't clump or flake and it's cheap. I have so many tubes because Target had it on sale recently in packs of three for $6 and, before I knew what was going on, I was checking out with a pack of black and a pack of brown-black.

Too Faced Lash Injection Pinpoint. Love. lovelovelove. The brush is teeny tiny and I can really get close to the bases of my lashes with it. It really lengthens and seriously, OMG, I love it. The only thing is that it's a bit hard to remove, but you can't have everything, right?

If I had to pick, I would continue to buy the Lash Exact as my drugstore brand and the Too Faced as my expensive brand. I really want to try this one, but $34 for mascara is a bit painful. Has anyone tried it? Am I missing out? Is it awesome? Tell me it's horrible, please.

maybe I'm not "camera friendly"

Earlier today I mention to jparks that something reminded me of "I'm crazy pickle arm! I've got a pickle for my arm! Now give me some candy!" and he looked at me like I was nuts. "You know, Adam Sandler's crazy pickle arm Halloween costume?" Nothing.

Turns out jparks had a life or something during the 90's and didn't watch Saturday Night Live. He has never heard of most of my favorite sketches and seriously, HOW?!!?. When I mentioned living in a van down by the river, no response. How does anyone over the age of 25 not know who Matt Foley is? I didn't ask if he knows who Philip the Hyper Hypo or Simon are because I don't want to know the answer.

I really think his ignorance of SNL in the 90's might be grounds for divorce. So, to avoid that, let's educate him:









You can find more over here, but unfortunately not Crazy Pickle Arm. Bonus points to anyone that can find it online for me.

I thought age was just a number

Today was not a good day for me. We didn't get home from the concert until after midnight, I had enough beer to make myself hungover today, and in a moment of brilliance, I scheduled a client meeting for first thing this morning. I managed to make it until about 2pm before considering cutting my wrists open with the blades from my pencil sharpener.

I just don't understand when I got too old to be out past midnight and drink beer. Life is really fucking unfair.

And since it's 7:30, I should probably go to bed.

look where I'm about to go!

And I'm wearing my kick ass boots for it, with my kick ass purple tights



And I'm taking jparks to eat at 'wichcraft before the show, which is the best sandwich place in SF (It's the only sandwich place I've been to in SF, but whatever, it's really good).

girls on the run

The other day ML sent me an im suggesting that I join Girls on the Run as part of her 100 Days to Become Less of a Lazy Ass and Help Change the World program. I had seen GOTR booths at race expos but I'm horribly forgetful unless the thing I'm trying to remember has to do with food, which GOTR does not.

Girls on the Run is a program that builds confidence through non-competitive running programs for girls aged 8 to 13. The girls do weekly training runs with a coach and eventually run either a 1 mile or 5k Lollipop Run. My roll with this organization is to be a running buddy, someone that joins the girls for one of their training runs and for their Lollipop Run to encourage them to do their best and have fun while participating. I signed up without really thinking what encouraging an 8 year old would mean or taking into account that I tend to run more along the lines of smartass rather than cheerleader.

Today was my training run and after wandering around the elementary school feeling an awful lot like a creeper, I found the track and joined the group for warmups. After that the girls were divided between the running buddies and we were told to hit the track at whatever pace was comfortable for the kids. My two girls and I were about to set off when the coach came over and informed me that my girls, they couldn't run. And is that okay with me? Would I mind walking with them for the next hour? I think I might have scared the coach with my overly enthusiastic "Walking is great!" response and with that we were off.

For the next hour we walked around the track and talked about our pets and I told them about my marathon to which they replied "Whoa, you're crazy!" This little thing that I was dreading was actually (surprisingly) a lot of fun. They didn't need much encouragement, other than the occasional "Do you want to run for the next little bit? Yes? Wow, go you!" The rest of the girls were sprinting around the track at breakneck speeds, while the other running buddies did whatever they could to keep up and not have a heart attack, but me and my girls were just strolling.

In the end all the other girls did 14 laps while we did 8, but we had just as much fun as them. My girls were really proud of their laps and I was really proud when they asked me which high school I attend. If I had known volunteering was so good for my self esteem (high school!) I would have signed up to be a running buddy months ago.

not to point fingers or anything

Did you guys hear that really loud explosion earlier today? It was my head spontaneously combusting over the fact that my blog was broken and I didn't have the knowledge to fix it. A friend sent me a quick explanation of what could be wrong, but all I was capable of doing was forwarding the email to jparks with a note that said "PLEASE HELP ME!"

See, jparks and I have been going back and forth for a couple of months now about moving me from wordpress to blogger. The fight usually goes like this:


jparks: "Wordpress sucks my balls! I'm moving you to blogger!"
me: "Suck your own balls! I'm not moving to blogger!"
jparks: "Fine, then I'm not helping you with your blog anymore. Deal with it yourself!"
me: "Sounds better than moving to blogger!"

(we are mature)

But then something goes wrong, like my blog going AWOL, and I have to beg him to help me. You might have noticed that I recently uploaded a new template and somethings haven't worked since then. Like links to other blogs or the list of books I've read recently (both highly exciting I tell you). They don't work because I have no idea how to fix them. Also, the font on the site is tiny and makes my head hurt but I have to suck it up because my husband is cruel and will not fix it for me.

Jparks recently moved his blog over to blogger and won't shut up about how much easier the upkeep is. I've recently purchased a crapload of new domains and jparks created them on the blogger platform (which I didn't realize he was doing when I bought them. sneaky bastard) but I'm holding out for Formation of Me. Wordpress might not be the best platform out there, but it works for me, so why change? Moving to blogger is not a change I can believe in.

And until I hire someone to do the behind the scenes work for me, the font will be tiny and you'll have no idea what blogs I read. I know this leaves you feeling empty inside and for that I blame jparks, the wordpress intolerant bastard.

and still I love him

"You know I only said 'Ohh Pottery Barn!' was because I thought they would have a sugar bowl for my tea. I really need a sugar bowl"

Tonight I went and bought him a sugar and cream set and when I gave it to him this came out of his mouth:

"Now I can have a tea party!"

Yet he still maintains that he's not gay.

So, who wants to come to jparks' tea party? RSVP now so he knows how many finger sandwiches to order.

holiday planning

I think jparks and I are finally accepting the fact that we will not be able to fly home to NOLA for Christmas. I had pretty much given the dream up when we returned from Ireland and the economy took a sudden hit, but jparks was still holding out. When my grandfather passed away that was the final nail in the coffin. (what, I thought it was funny. Also, I am sick) We spent so much money flying home for the funeral that there was really no chance we would be able to afford to make the trip again, two months later. Also, I'm currently negative 34 hours into my vacation time at work. As in, I won't be seeing an hour of vacation for months. I check that line of my paycheck every payday and watching the number slowly creep back to zero is killing me.

But the good news is that since we won't be out of town I can get a Christmas tree. Like a real one, not a pink one that makes jparks rant about how I should remember that a man lives in the house too. I'm also putting twinkle lights on my porch. And possibly reindeer horns on Lily.

Of course, since we usually go out of town for the holidays, I have no ornaments or twinkle lights. So today I went to Target to check out my options and, OMG, my options are endless. I'm not going to go inflatable decoration levels of crazy, but I am going to buy the fancy led twinkle lights. And I'm going to attempt to make some of my own ornaments, complete with crazy levels of glitter and sparkly adornments.

Because nothing fills the void of not seeing your family at the holidays like led lights and glitter. Also, I think all of the mulled wine I plan on drinking is going to help too.

live from Santa Clara, it's Saturday Night Bullets

Today our new wii fit decided jparks' fitness age is 43 (13 years older than he really is). He decided to try to prove it wrong and ended up hurting his back doing one of the yoga poses included in the workout. I think we can all agree that obviously the wii fit was wrong about his age and that he's really 73.

I went back to the mall today because Banana Republic left the security tag on jparks' coat. I ended up trying on clothes there and at JCrew. By the time I made it to the Benefit counter I was sweating like a whore in church and the makeup tech couldn't leave well enough alone. Even though I told her I just wanted to return a bronzer and some eyeshadow she insisted on doing my makeup. About halfway through one eye she said "Wow, you're really, uh, shiny and red. I think you're sweating through the makeup as I put it on." Yeah, thanks for pointing that out.

I've become obsessed with sequined dresses. I'm particularly fond of this one and this one (does that girl's hair look a bit off to you?) Unfortunately I have no occasion for a dress of that caliber unless I start wearing them to my tee shirt and jeans casual office. My coworkers look at me like I'm crazy when I wear high heels, but I'm sure a party dress might blend right in.

Tomorrow I'm going to a Raider's football game for work. I've been told to not make eye contact with members of the Black Hole. And some other folks told me that there are more arrests made at Raider's game than all other sporting events in the Bay Area combined. Going to this game sounds like exactly the thing I want to do on my Sunday. Good times.

keeping the economy afloat

Tonight jparks and I had a date night. For us this meant we went to dinner and then shopping for a jacket for him. If you're asking yourself how we manage to keep the romance alive in our marriage, here's a few hints: Banana Republic and J.Crew. Aw yeah, the couple that shops together, bow chicka wah wah. Kidding. We really just shopped, came home, and watched tv. See, exciting.

Anyway. We went to the mall so we could maybe, hopefully, please god, find jparks a new blazer/sportcoat type thing in black. When we drove into the parking lot he saw the two story Pottery Barn and declared, with much elation, "Ohhhhh, Pottery Barn!" I called him gay and got in trouble. I've since been corrected (by him) and was told he's metrosexual and I'm not to call him gay anymore. Gaw, gay guys are so sensitive.

We found him a coat at Banana Republic and then headed to J.Crew where all the sale items are currently an additional 50% off. That's like free. So I did the one thing I hate to do while shopping and tried on some clothes. Normally I'm the person that will buy one pair of pants in two sizes, take both home, try them on at my leisure, and return whatever pair doesn't fit. But when J.Crew does it's big clearance type sales, they don't accept returns so I'm left with no choice.

Here's me after trying on four pairs of pants:

I was sweaty, red faced, hair a mess, and really pissed off. After seeing this picture, do you have any idea why jparks wouldn't want to have sex with me, because I have no idea.

The effort of trying on things was worth it because I ended up getting a pair of pants and a dress for the low low price of $34. Total. That, my friends, is a bargain that I couldn't pass up. Which totally makes up for jparks' crazy expensive jacket. Gaw, gay guys are so snobby about clothing. Only the best, most expensive things will do.

out the door

Besides cleaning out clothes I'm also trying to give the house a general cleaning out too. I know that somewhere jparks' head is exploding because I love nothing more than holding onto crap but, baby, times are changing! I'm moving crap out! But don't help!

And since I love to hold onto to crap I've motivated myself with a list. It's 250 lines long and when I fill it I'm buying myself a treat. I'm thinking some Louboutins, you know because clearing 250 things out of your house totally deserves a $900 pair of shoes.



And yeah, number two on the list says stripper heels. Because I think it's safe to say that my sensual dancing days are over.

Also, those four things might have already been replaced with other things. Mainly a box that came in from the Gap yesterday. If I buy things and decide to return them, can I put them on the list?

hypocritical post in 3..2..1..

So yesterday I was all I don't talk politics on my blog and today, well let's talk politics.

We have a new president-elect and he brought tears to my eyes with his speech last night. I feel like I can say proudly that I am an American citizen. The phrase is unfamiliar and doesn't roll off my tongue easily, but I'm sure with time I'll become much more comfortable with it.

And McCain's concession speech? It was moving as well. To hear him congratulate Obama and sound like he sincerely meant it, was incredible. When he asked his supporters to offer the same respect and support to Obama that he will in the coming months and to remember that we are all fellow Americans, it made me believe that our country might just have a chance to heal and reconnect as one united front.

And while Obama's win made the night unbelievably amazing, the fact that California voted yes on Prop 8 also made the night unbelievably disheartening.

On a night when we voted in our first minority president, we took a right away from another minority group. And no matter how you feel about same sex couples, we can not start taking rights away from citizens. The fact that we can take away the right with only 52% of the vote is unacceptable. And don't even get me started on the fact that California residents care more about farm animals than their fellow humans. It is so mind numbingly ridiculous that I'm not certain I can apply words to it without them all being expletive.

To my friends in same sex relationships, I'm so sorry. I am embarrassed by California's actions, especially by the fact that other minority groups played a big part in taking away your right to marry whomever you want. Other minority groups that have had to fight for equal rights of their own in the past. I know I'm only one person but in my eyes, you and your spouse are still a family. The state may not legally recognize your union, but I do. Let's not allow this be the end of the fight for your equality.

my passive aggressive political post

Chances are that by the time you read this post, if you haven't voted yet, then you aren't going to vote. I'm sorry that you missed a chance to be part of history, because no matter who you voted for, it was historic.

I know I haven't been really open about my political beliefs on this little blog o'mine, but I honestly get a knot in my stomach whenever I think about mentioning them. I come from a family of Republicans. Republicans who are not afraid to tell you all about how the Democrats are wrong and that frankly you are dumb for being one. I know that lots of other bloggers have the same family dynamics and they don't allow that to stop them from being openly political but me, I'm passive aggressive. I'm a lover, not a fighter.

I know I can't change my family's mind anymore than they could change mine. So rather than fighting pointless political battles with them, I just don't mention my political beliefs. They try to egg me on (This happened quite a bit at my grandfather's funeral last month. I'm sure it was 90% unintentional and harmless) and I let the accusations roll off my back. To me the debating, fighting, and guaranteed stomachache is just not worth it.

I apply this same tactic to my friends, which is what I consider anyone that reads my blog. I know you may not like my candidate, but you're an intelligent and informed adult and hopefully you made your choice on facts and not politic propaganda. I assume you've read up on your candidate's policies and plans and have honestly made the best, most informed decision for you. I do not wish to try and change your mind, because you will not be able to change mine.

But with that all being said, if you think yes on prop 8 is a good idea I will debate with you. I'll debate it in a fun, let's not get angry and resort to name calling, sort of way. I will do this only because I feel that the supporters of prop 8 have been misleading about their cause. I won't fight with you, but I will make sure you really understand what a yes on prop 8 means. In the end, if you still feel like voting yes on it, then that's your decision and I'll respect that. And I hope you could still respect me and my opinion.

And for the record, I voted and almost cried. I stood in my little voting cube, pen in hand, taking deep breaths to steady myself. I feel like I've been holding my breath all day, waiting for the results to start pouring in. Now that that's happening I'm a whirlwind of emotions and can't wait to have this day behind me.

America, please don't let me down.

self improvement, Tim Gunn style

In the spirit of Slynnro's NoImYoSeMo (November Improve Yourself Month) I'm going to talk about clothing and shopping. To the boys out there, sorry to bore you, but look BACON!

Have you been watching Tim Gunn's Guide to Style? I have and it's almost sad the way I hang on Tim's every word of fashion gospel. If Tim says jump, I jump. Repeatedly, until my knees give out and I cannot jump anymore.

But while I love Tim and his advice, normally I feel disconnected from his advice seekers who appear to be fashionably brain dead. Most dress very age inappropriate or look like they don't own a mirror. They look hopeless and overwhelmed by the idea of shopping, which is not something I can't relate to. Yes, I might have to shop around a bit to find just the right dress, but I can do it, I have the know how and the ability. I know I'm not a fashion expert, but I do think I can put together reasonably attractive outfits that don't make others want to call famous people to help dress me.

And this air of superiority I had was firmly in place until last week's episode when the girl wasn't that bad. Yes, her mini skirt date outfit was bad (I can't find a picture but trust me, it was whore-y), but overall she had a ton of clothes in her closet that were cute. Most of Tim's advice was to keep in mind that she's petite and everything will need to be hemmed or altered. And that she needs to shop with specific items in mind, instead of just buying things on whims. And that jeans in a dark washed denim look more appropriate on an adult than lighter jeans. And that hello Regan Parks, this girl could be you, PAY ATTENTION.

So I did. After the show was over I started digging in my closet and pulled out numerous dresses, jackets, and pants to take to the tailor. The length on all of them are just a bit too long and I have a feeling I've not been doing my short stature any good. Next up is a serious inspection of everything left in my closet and a good purging of things that really don't need to stick around. And the last thing on my to do list is buy a new pair of fancy premium jeans.

Jeans have been the one thing I can't justify spending money on. Gap's long and lean jeans fit me well and are cheap, so why bother paying more? Except that I'm starting to see that they fade and wear thin rather quickly. It seems I buy a pair and am back ordering another almost immediately and that's starting to suck. So I'm setting out to buy a premium pair of jeans, like a real adult.

So, what brands do you suggest? Is Nordstrom the best place to go denim shopping? Am I out of my mind to want to pay that much for jeans? Are there any brands that are best for short girls? What's the deal with trouser jeans? Is it true that when I start wearing premium denim I'll start pooping rainbows? I think I read that somewhere.

election night 08

I've been debating over whether or not I should invite people over for an election night party. It wouldn't be a huge party, especially considering the election is in 2 days; just some snacks, some cnn (or fox news if Obama is in the lead and we want to watch grown men weep big tears of sadness), some drinks, and whatever friends want to join us. But I'm not entirely certain having an election party will end well.

I mean, we could have the chance to watch history being made and be able to say we saw it happen with a room full of friends. Or we could all do shots and get blind drunk if our candidate doesn't win. And offer each other suggestions on good countries to move to after January. Hell, some of my friends might even like different candidates and be able to rub it in everyone's face should their guy win in a surprise upset. What I'm trying to say in a very roundabout, poorly written way is that it could either be a lot of fun or the worst party in the history of parties. And I just can't make up my mind.

So, what do you think? Do you want to come over to watch the election results at my house? Do you think a party is a bad idea? Do you want to be at your own house so you can start packing the moving boxes if your candidate doesn't win?

It seems that I can't promise your candidate the win if you come over here, but I can promise cookies and booze and that's got to count for something, right?

candy bakeshop

Last night jparks and I stayed home so I could see all of the cute trick or treaters that surely were going to come to our house, despite the fact that the previous owners told us not to expect many or any. I assumed that the old owners were probably the street weirdos that no kid would approach them, even for free candy. But obviously the neighborhood kids haven't received the notice about us new, cool owners and they almost all stayed the hell away last night. There was one group with one ridiculously cute kid that blew me kisses when I gave her candy but other than that, nothing.

The problem (other than the lack of cute) is that now I have a rather large amount of candy leftover. And while I do love me some candy, this past Easter has taught me that I don't love candy enough to eat it in a timely manner. Instead of adding the new Halloween candy to the big ass jar of Easter candy (that yes, we still have and is still mostly full) I've decided to bake as much of the candy into cookies, cakes, or brownies as possible.

First up on the to bake list are Whoppers. I'm thinking these Chocolate Malted Whopper Drops might just be the best thing ever, even though the creator got mixed reviews on her batch.

After that I'm going to work on Junior Mints. The lazy part of me says to melt them down into a brownie frosting, but the Martha part of me says I need to be more creative. Cookies? A cake? Or maybe a chocolate mint torte. Ohhh, that could be good.

After that I've got Pumpkin Spice Hershey's Kisses, Twix, Payday Bars (aka: best candy ever), and KitKats, which I suspect will be the hardest to bake with.

Did I mention that I'm trying to lose some weight before December? Yeah, that's going to go well, don't you think?

thursday. finally.

My thoughts this week have been exactly the same everyday "Crap, it's only Monday? But it feels like Wednesday. Stupid slow week." Rinse and repeat on Tuesday and then on Wednesday insert Friday for what day it feels like. And then today it dawned on me that it's Thursday and OMG, this week might finally be closing.

I'm having trouble now that the marathon is over making myself go run. The alarm goes off at 6am and I turn it off and then head right back to bed. So not only am I not running, but I'm also sleeping until 8:30. And that means I don't get to work until 10. Thankfully my bosses don't seem to mind when I come in, so long as I tack the missing hours onto the end of the day. But there are no words to explain how much I hate working until 6pm. LIKE SOME MUCH. ACK, FUCKING HATE! But apparently I don't hate it enough to drag my ass out of bed in the morning. Such is the way of me.

Today I had a Brownie meeting and I went to it dressed like this:

The girls asked me if I was dressing like an adult for Halloween and if I knew that Halloween is tomorrow, not today. Perhaps it's time to start wearing makeup to our meetings more often.

klassy!

Saturday night we had a few friends over to celebrate jparks' 30th birthday. And this happened:



That bottle was almost full at the start of the party. I know Whitney had one drink made with Maker's Mark but I think the rest of the bottle was consumed by Jon and I. Honestly, I had no idea this was the case until I came downstairs on Sunday morning (at 7:30am to go for a bike ride. With a massive hangover. I am a machine!) and saw the empty bottle. My first thought was "ohh, shhiiiittttt" and my second was "Ah, this hangover makes sense now"

And because I am one klassy lassy, I apparently went around the party telling people all about my IUD and how I will not be pushing out a baby in a certain month. Shortly after this the party started to clear out. I really have no idea why.

All in all the evening was a good night (at least the parts that I remember), although I think whiskey and I are going to start a trial separation now. I think we got a little bit too serious, too fast and I need a little breathing room in the relationship. Maybe it's time to start dating other liquors, or perhaps branch out and try some wine every once in awhile. Maybe I should ease myself into a relationship with wine since I'm used to party girls like whiskey. Maybe wine in a cube for starters and then, if the relationship is going well, I'll move on to screw top wines and finally settle in for the long haul with corked wines. Aw, I think this relationship might work.

FAIL Friday

Things I have failed at today:

Making dinner. I managed to burn dinner. Dinner that was made in a crock pot. Do you know how hard it is to burn things in a crock pot? Almost impossible. Then the rice was supposed to be like fried rice and not goopey like a soggy casserole. My rice was goopey. Yum.

After dinner I decided to fluff some balls. Except they didn't really fluff as much as just tear. I gave up for tonight and will try again tomorrow when, hopefully, the fail has washed off of me.

Next I decided to start making the caramel apples I wanted for tomorrow night. People keep saying that caramel apples are easy to make, but let me take a moment to say that those people are lying pieces of shit. Sure, they might be easy if you don't want them to look appealing but, if you want to be able to look the finished product and not want to vomit, then they are a lot of damn work. Thus far I have warty apple covered in bubbles, measles apple covered in mini m&m's that are sliding off its side, and jagged shards of glass apple that is covered in almond slivers.

I would have pictures of these apples, but tonight I also failed at photography.

And now my blog is acting like a little brat and refusing to save or post. I quit. If you're reading this it's because it pulled its head out of its ass an started doing it's sole purpose in this world: publishing content.

edit: I woke up this morning and the caramel is no longer on the apples. It just slid right off of them and puddled on the tray. People that successfully make caramel apples suck.

Dear ladies that work in my building,

Are you brain dead?

err, I mean, Hi! How are you? Are you brain dead?

Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to be so hostile but you have really been annoying me. Like a lot. Can I just get some things off my chest and maybe that'll help with the situation? See, I've got some issues with your bathroom behavior and I don't think I can take it much longer.

Let's start with the bathroom lights. I know that we all want to be green and save the Earth and sometimes turning off the bathroom lights seems like a great way to do this, but do you think you could start checking to make sure the stalls are empty before you flick the switch to off? Because it sucks to be minding your own business and right when you go to reach for the toilet paper BAM DARKNESS. I feel like the logical next event will be my death at the hands of a serial killer that doesn't want me to know he's been following my bathroom habits and knows that when my pants are down I am at my weakest. If this continues I will be forced to shroud each of you in darkness and pretend to be said killer. I might end up in jail, but I bet you'll never turn the bathroom lights out again.

I don't know if you're aware but we work in a fairly nice office building. An office building that doesn't get much random germ-infested hobo foot traffic. Our bathrooms are surprisingly clean and yet you still flush with your foot. You do realize that forces me to either have to flush with my foot, which is sometimes impossible if I'm wearing heels or nice clothes, or touch the handle that you just dragged the bottom of your shoe across. Do you not see how this is wrong? I have always washed my hands after using the bathroom but, thanks to the bottom of your shoe, I now do it with scalding hot water and scrub scrub scrub. Lady MacBeth would be so proud. Now my hands hurt, so it's time for you to stop with the foot flushing. Guess what, the only reason you need to foot flush is because you've gunked up the handle the last time you were in there! If you stop there would be no reason to foot flush! We can all be happy and I can stop hating you!

And sometimes, when you leave your things on the counter while you are in a stall, I think about taking them to make us even. Do you see what you've reduced me to?!?

Sincerely,
Regan

marathoned

OMG, I ran a marathon yesterday. And I'm still alive and able to remain upright, so yay! But my time was less than desirable, so boo! But if you factor out my bathroom breaks and the fact that stupid people don't know that you grab a cup at the water stations and then KEEP MOVING, I only finished a little bit behind schedule and not a whole hell of a lot, like my time indicates.

So, what was my time? 6:28:04. Before you start scoffing and thinking I'm a puss for taking so damn long, let me point out that you did not run a marathon on Sunday, so shut it. My goal was 5:15, which I obviously did not meet. And in true Regan fashion I'm pushing the blame for this to other places. Such as the before mentioned water stations.

Dear fellow runners, those stations? They are not rest stops. You are supposed to grab your water and then go. Not grab your water and then chill right in front of the tables. You should have practiced running and drinking water at the same time if this was going to be a challenge for you. Or at least had the common sense to move past the tables a bit so as to not block traffic. I wanted to knock you all down.

But the water stations were not really the biggest time suck, that honor goes to the port-o-let lines. I don't know why I was thinking the bathroom lines would not be that long, it was a race with 20,000 people, the bulk of that being women. Of course I was going to easily spend 20 or more minutes waiting in line at the port-o-lets, but that just never occurred to me ahead of time.

I will openly admit that part of falling off pace is my fault as once I hit mile 17 I realized "Oh shit, I'm a bit tired." At mile 18 my running partner met me and if she hadn't shown up I honestly might have quit. But she wouldn't let me, even when I rattled off all the various things on my body that currently hurt. (my toenails hurt, my ankles hurt, my shins hurt...my earlobes hurt) Or when she said she didn't see the hill I was talking about and I snapped back "Gaw, do you have selective blindness or something?!?" Some people claim to hit a wall when running, me I hit a bitch wall.

And thank you to each of you that sent in words of support and to those of you that made it to the race. When I didn't think I could run another step, I knew if you could take the time to send me a note or come to the race on what had to be the coldest day in recent history, then I could run just a bit more. And towards the end that's exactly what it was, running one small section, walking a bit, and trying to run one more small section. And those small sections ended up getting me across the finish line.

It's a huge feat to muster the energy to train for a marathon. Dragging yourself out of bed before the sun rises on race day feels crazy. Standing at the starting line, knowing in a few minutes you will embark on something most people will never do, makes you feel like you've lost your fucking mind. 26.2 seems impossible, but yesterday I learned that I am greater than it.

I'm ready to go again and next time it's 5:15 or bust.

herculean

I've been working on a post for four days now, a post about a salad that was so incredibly good jparks and I had to force ourselves to stop eating it. And no, this wasn't your typical healthy salad, it was a salad born from fat southern chefs who love to make everything as bad for you as possible. When you lifted a fork of it to your mouth, you heard a loud slamming sound as your arteries slammed shut. Sweet baby Jesus, it was a crazy good salad.

And then this morning I opened up that post and thought "This really sucks" so I deleted it. The thing is that I'm having a hard time writing anything because I have some things I need to say. I need to say them for totally selfish reasons and probably will make some family members mad by saying them. And that's giving me some hesitation. They aren't hurtful, at least I don't think they are hurtful, but others will most certainly feel differently.

I don't talk about my relationship with my dad here, mostly because since starting this blog my dad and I haven't spoken. The grandfather that passed away last week was my dad's father, which meant it was time to bite the bullet and talk to my dad again. And I'm not certain how that went. I mean, I thought I was acting adult about it, but maybe I wasn't.

I don't want to get into too much detail on this matter because, like I said, I don't want to make the situation worse, but holding all the words inside is eating me alive. And I don't think that saying them to my father will help. Or a therapist. There is just something about putting my words on this blog that takes them out of my head and makes me feel better. It takes makes the weight and pressure of those words a little less by spreading them around to all of you as well. Not that I honestly think you mull over my concerns and thoughts the way I do, but somehow it still helps. It's been so long since I carried the weight of my thoughts on my own that I can't really remember how I used to do it. It's weird how having a blog and sharing so much changes the way you process things.

On a totally unrelated note, Saturday morning is the cut off for words of encouragement! If you think you are going to attend the race to cheer in person, let me know and I'll get you a copy of the race map and the times that I should reach various miles.

I am so damn needy

So, uh, long time no blog post. I think it's time for a new blogging rule: a death in the family gives you the right to take a blogging vacation. You may return to the world of blogging at your own leisure. No one shall make you feel guilty for your lack of posting and that includes making yourself feel guilty.

Anyway. We're still in New Orleans, feeling extremely worn out and ready to go home. Not that we don't love seeing family or spending time with friends, but this trip has been more stress filled than fun filled so going home would be nice. But enough negative, let's talk about something else.

Did you know my marathon is in 6 days? (actually less because today is mostly over and then the race starts hella early on the 6th day) That's soon. Really soon. And while I feel like I'm ready, I know my training in the past month has not been ideal, and that worries me just a tiny bit. But I'm thinking positive. I can do it! 26.2 miles is nothing! That's a walk in the park!

Before I make my next couple of requests let me tell you a story. When I ran the San Francisco Half Marathon in August I had jparks as my only cheerleader and he didn't make it to the finish line in time to see me cross it. (no guilt, honey! I'm not mad about it! for reals!) But plenty of other runners had cheerleaders along the course and, this is almost too dorky to share with you, every time I ran past a group of them, I almost cried. And my nose might have gotten a bit runny and made it hard to breath for a few steps. And you would never stop making fun of me if I told you how I might have cried actual tears when a stranger would cheer for me. Or when the race security guy told me that he knew I could make it.

Would you like to see me cry? Yes? Then come out to the Nike Women's Marathon on October 19th in San Francisco and cheer for me. If you were to make a sign I can almost guarantee you'll get to see me trying to run with snot running down my face. Bring a snack for me and I might just faint from excitement.

Can't make the race? My training books suggests that I fill a baggie with words of support and at every mile marker I read one and feel a bit more energized. But the catch is: those words of encouragement need to come from friends and family (read as: YOU). So email them to jparks[at]jparks.net (I want to be surprised on race day so I'm having you send these to jparks' email account. This means prior to race day I'll have no idea if any of you actually send emails. Crap, I hate surprises) Did you just barf reading that, because I barfed a little writing it. It's cheesy but honestly, if it will help me keep moving when I think I can't go anymore, then I say let's do it. Send the words of encouragement in any form you think is best: a joke, a quote, a picture, or just "You can do it!"

To be able to read one at every mile I'll need 26 people to send me their support. So come on people, email the encouragement in! Don't be shy if we haven't met; if a random stranger can make a race easier for me imagine how great I'll feel knowing that one of my blog readers believes in me.

And now I feel like I should break out into song, maybe something uplifting and supportive. This should do the trick: