Operation Pink Herring

Screw Halloween, there are more important things about October 31st

While all the lame kids are out trick or treating tonight, the OPH household will be celebrating a much more important holiday: Max's birthday. 

Oh, yes I did.

(You can thank Joel for ruining my picture, and also please inform him that brownies are not a very healthy way to start off the morning.)

I know what you're thinking: But Jennifer, cats don't eat brownies! 

True enough.  But they do loooove them some Fancy Feast. 

OH. YES. I DID.

Max is all, OMGWTF mah prezint iz on firez!

Happy birthday to the sweetest 16-pound cat in the Mid-Atlantic.  And to all the kids banging on my door: go the eff away, I'm trying to watch mah Tivo.

A king sized bed to myself has never looked so good

Friday

6am: Jenny and I begrudgingly get out of bed, shower, and zip up our suitcases.

7am: We leave for the airport

9am: Fly from BWI to Hartford, CT

10:30am: Get picked up at Hartford

11am: Screw up the crafty bridal scrapbook we were asked to help on. 

11:30am: Run out of double-sided tape.

12noon: Run to crafts store.  Give up and go to bride's house for lunch.

2pm: Nails (note to self: get a freaking manicure every once in awhile, if only for the kick ass shoulder massage!)

5:30pm: Rehearsal

6pm: Rehearsal dinner

10pm: Karaoke in the hotel bar.  Drinks.  Shots.  Singing.  Until 3am.

Saturday

7am: Wake up, forced to shower by Jenny even though I just showered yesterday (and I washed my hair!) 

8am: Dunkin Donuts run

8:30am: Arrive at salon.  Beg hair and makeup stylists to be gentle with me.  Requests for a bobby-pinless 'do and foundation-less makeup are honored.  All is good.  Take a mini-nap in one of the hair washing station chairs to avoid messing up hair.

11:30am: Change into dresses

12noon: pictures in hotel, pictures in lobby, pictures picture pictures

2pm: arrive at church.  Realize we haven't eaten since 8am.  Shove a mangled South Beach Diet bar down my throat before walking down the aisle.  Manage not to trip.

2:30pm: Witness Clippy's MARRIAGE!! Make it through the ceremony without crying!

4pm: More pictures

6pm: Reception.  Much eating.  Much drinking.  More eating.  More drinking.  Dancing.  More eating and drinking. Some crying. 

1:30am: Fall into bed.

Sunday

7am: Wake up.  Shower, pack bags.  Meet car driver in the lobby, just as he is about to leave because he didn't find your name on the hotel registry.  Um, sir?   Maybe you were going to call my cell phone WHICH I GAVE YOU MYSELF before assuming I'd just up and left?  Because sometimes people stay with other people, and only give one name to the hotel?   It happens sometimes.  And you almost seriously screwed me.

7:30am: Drive to Boston Logan airport.

9:30am: Check in for flight.

10am: Go through security.

10:01am: Vomit in Logan bathroom. 

10:02: Vomit again.

10:05: More puking.

10:10: Purchase altoids, gum, and vitamin water.

10:15: Feeling much, much better.

10:55: Board plane.  Fly to San Francisco.

2:30pm (Pacific Time): Arrive in SFO.  Buy burrito.  Devour burrito.

3:30pm: Arrive at hotel.  Make out with king sized bed.  French kiss gigantic flatscreen TV.  Shove Bliss products in my toiletries bag.

4:00pm: Work meeting.  Many jokes about why I am not wearing my bridesmaid dress are made (har har, that's the last time I tell people about my recurring nightmares about forgetting to pack a work outfit)

6pm: Reacquaint myself with the internet after two and a half days of being completely offline.

=====

So, hello, internet!  I've missed you.  I'm so exhausted that I've moved from "tired" to "completely delirious" and I am looking forward to Tuesday, which will be devoted entirely to recovering from the Longest Weekend Ever, more than I can put into words.

Did I miss anything?

The Hours

“A smashing literary tour de force and an utterly invigorating reading experience. If this book does not make you jump up from the sofa, looking at life and literature in new ways, check to see if you have a pulse.” —USA Today

Hang on a second... let me just... yup, I do have a pulse.  So someone explain to me why The Hours not only did NOT induce me to jump up and shout about my new perspective on life, but also just plain confused the hell out of me.

Maybe it's because I don't really know who Virginia Woolf is (well, I know NOW, I looked her up in Wikipedia)?  But when I started the book (and who are we kidding, while I was reading it), I wasn't sure if she was a real person or a character in a Jane Austen book or something.  What about that movie, "Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf" (haha, just kidding, it's actually a play.  I knew that)?  I never saw it, and frankly I get it confused with "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus".  (If you're wondering right now how I was ever admitted to college, it's because I am really, really good at standardized testing).  Fictional or real, I definitely pictured her in the Wuthering Heights era... but The Hours took place in pretty close to modern times.  Right?

I am so confused.  What year is it?   

One thing I will say is that it was worth every penny I paid for it (twenty-five cents at a garage sale, in case you were wondering) as a frighteningly effective sleep aid.  For weeks, I'd get into bed, pick up the book, and BAM.  Asleep.  I hardly ever made it through more than a few pages.  Sometimes I didn't even finish a paragraph. 

Now that I think about it, that probably did not help with the whole making sense thing.

So my question to you, fair folks of the internet, is: should I put the movie version on my Netflix queue?  I have several long distance flights coming up, and you know what that means, right?  PRIME TIME to order up all the movies that would make Joel want to gouge his eyes out with a plastic spork from Wendy's. 

Thumbs up or thumbs down to The Hours: The Movie?  I am thinking that the dumbed-down, jazzed up film version might be just what I need to make sense of this thing.

And also, can anyone recommend a some new sleep-inducing bedtime reading?  I finished The Hours on Monday night, and I haven't slept more than three hours a night since then (hence the late night blogging).

(And hence the fact that I forgot to actually hit "publish" last night)

THE WALL: DONE

They say that an author never really finishes a novel, they just reach a point where they give up.

Well, that's the point I'm at with The Wall.  I give up.  It's done.

There is still quite a bit that I could do, if I had unlimited time and patience.  I could scrub the grout better, I could chisel away at the parts that we got sloppy on while we were applying the grout.  I could use the industrial sized bottle of grout sealant and then gently buff each tile to a shiny finish.

I could.  But I'm not going to. 

I am afraid that if I let my compulsive perfectionist tendencies take over, I'll end up hating this project.  I don't want to hate it.  It's certainly become a labor of love, but I am really happy with how it turned out.  It's not perfect, but hey.  We're not going to live in this house forever.  There's no point in killing myself (any more than I already have) over a project that I'm eventually going to have to leave behind.

It is good enough.   

Right?

I think that I had the foresight to take a "before" picture, but at that time we didn't have a digital camera (that gives you an idea of how long I've been working on this thing), so this picture will have to do.  It's actually the back side of our wall, which faces our neighbor's house.   I felt very sneaky tip-toeing around in her side of the alley snapping pictures, but the internet needs documentation. 

BEFORE:

Nice view, huh?  Want the number of my real estate agent so you can buy a rowhouse in Baltimore?

And, AFTER:

 

Unfortunately our alley is still the same size (that would be NARROW, just like our house, in case you were wondering), so it's impossible to get a decent picture of the whole thing. 

Don't worry!  That just means that instead of one picture, you get lots.

Here's a shot from the other side:

And a few close ups from the middle section:

I am happy with this section because you can actually tell what I was trying to make (it's a school of red fish swimming through some seaweed, just in case I'm the only one who can, in fact, tell.)

Um, this section got a little... jumbled.  But I still like it because it is colorful.  It was supposed to be a coral formation (yellow, pink and blue) with a crab peeking out and another school of fish (made from a plate featuring chili peppers) swimming by.

This also came out a bit jumbled for my liking, but hey: at least those glass marbles from Ikea went to good use.  Even if they do look like fish eggs (that was NOT my intention).

And remembering the whole point of this project, this is now the view from Kitchen Window #1 (left):

and this is the view from Kitchen Window #2 (right):

Both are arguably better than staring at a cinderblock wall, so I'm considering this Mission: Accomplished.

All in all, it took:

• Approximately 150 hours over three years (not including time spent scouring Goodwill, garage sales and The Loading Dock for supplies)
• About $500 for supplies
• At least 5 full boxes of tiles and more than 50 plates, bowls and mugs
• Three mirrors
• One 50-lb bag of mortar
• Three 25-lb bags of sanded grout
• One hammer (for breaking tiles)
• One pair of safety goggles
• A Sam's Club box of scouring pads (for scrubbing grout)
• A crapload of patience

I will be forever grateful that places like Goodwill and The Loading Dock exist, because without low-cost places to obtain dishes and tiles there is no way I could have afforded to do this.  Dude, do you know how much tiles cost?  It's ridiculous. 

I am also very, very grateful that I can officially say that this is DONE.  I did really, honestly enjoy working on it, but towards the end (meaning, this entire year) it became a burden, always in the back of my mind.  Every weekend I felt guilty for not working on it (or not working on it enough).  Whenever I looked into our alley and saw the boxes of broken and yet-to-be broken tiles stacked high I'd have a mini-panic attack about how this was never going to be finished.   I was sure that I'd only complete it minutes before we moved out of our house for greener pastures, and I wouldn't even have a minute to enjoy it in all its completed glory.

And now I can do just that.  Amen.

And if anyone needs an assortment of broken tiles and plates, organized by color (of course)... I've got a basement full.  I couldn't bring myself to throw the leftovers away.  What if I decide to cement slab on the second floor deck?  Or the front steps?  Or the entire side of the house?  I might need those tiles.

Then again, if I do decide to do any of those things, please sit  me down and make me read this post.

Apple picking and mini padlocks

This weekend was the first weekend in recent memory that I haven’t had to go anywhere or do anything, and man, did I ever need it. The past few weeks have been packed with flights to catch, meetings to attend, races to watch and places to go. It wasn’t all 5am meetings and flight delays; but even the sunny, summer-like days in Occoquan watching Joel’s regattas started to get exhausting when all I wanted to do was be at home for more than a few hours at a time.

We went apple picking on Saturday on a farm about 40 minutes from our house, but it felt like we were about three galaxies away from the city.  The place was pretty packed, but we managed to wrangle up a few bags of apples, spinach and broccoli before all the good stuff was gone.  And by that I mean, there was so much fruit hanging off the trees that I felt like we should take more more MORE just so that all those delicious apples wouldn’t go to waste.  Luckily for the bees, we could only carry so much.

I also wanted to get a pumpkin, although I wasn't sure what exactly we were going to do with it. 

 

This isn't actually the pumpkin we got, since I found a much "better" one about three seconds after this pictures was taken.  I thought I was going to have to push a four-year-old out of the way to snag it, but she got distracted by A! Baby! Pumpkin!  SO! CUTE! and I made off with The Perfect Pumpkin.  Sucker.

Some other random pictures from the farm:

An abandoned bird's nest...

Some blooming broccoli...

A very fall-ish scene, despite the summer temperatures.

This picture I took to prove to my brothers that blue corn DOES exist, a fact they didn't believe even when I showed them where it said "no artificial colors or flavors" on the bag of Tostitos Blue Corn Chips.  I realize that the corn Tostistos uses is probably not exactly like this, but my point is: corn can be blue.  Blue corn makes blue chips.  Que milagro!

*************************************** 

I also managed to find a novel ways to successfully lock myself out of the house.  The yoga studio I go to has these adorable little lockers with cute mini-padlocks for those cynics among us who can’t trust fellow yogis not to steal our shit while we’re trying to get our asana on.  Personally, I think that most of the people who come to this studio would be more likely to eat an entire non-organic cow doped up on hormones than steal from a fellow person, but after having my wallet stolen from my office desk drawer (TWICE), I’ve decided that an ounce of precaution is worth a ton of headaches (and we all know that standing in line at the MVA for a new license is equivalent to twelve migraines).  I was actually giving myself a mental pat on the back for locking up my purse when a little light went off in the recesses of my brain.  SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT, it said.  WHAT, PRAY TELL? I asked, and it did not respond.  Just as I clicked the adorable mini-padlock shut, I realized, shit, there is no matching adorable key dangling from this tiny padlock.  I have just prevented myself from stealing my own purse.

Eventually I was able to get my stuff back, thanks to several panicked phone calls to every “emergency” number tacked on the instructors’ bulletin board and a junk drawer full of paper clips, water bottle caps and, lo and behold, spare keys to mini padlocks.

While I was simultaneously trying not to freak out and impress the importance of the items in that locker (HOUSE KEYS), the instructor told me a story about this one time she locked herself and her son out of their house and they had to wait a whole 45 minutes for her mom to come and open the door.   Thanks for trying, I told her, but I have you beat about twenty times over.   Let me tell you about a fine day in history, a day I like to call The Worst Day of My Life.  Or perhaps you’d like to hear about something a bit more recent?  Of a tale from the Windy City?

You’d think I’d have some safeguards in place for this kind of thing, since it happens so often, right?  I DO.  My first line of defense also doubles as my significant other, but he was out in the ‘burbs and not expected back for many hours on Saturday.  My second line of defense, my friend Liz, is always ready and willing to come over and open the door with the spare key I let her forced her to keep… except she was in St. Croix this weekend.

It’s not easy getting into jams like this, but someone has got to do it.  What else would I blog about?

I am not dead.

In fact, I just wrote a whole long post.  And then I tried to add a link and Typepad ate it.

I'm going to bed.  I will re-write it tomorrow.  Maybe.

Warning: Do not troll IMDB.com after drinking

I have a Very Important Question for all of you out there who watched Gilmore Girls from the beginning.  As opposed to me, who got addicted to reruns at the gym, and although I think I've seen every single episode, I did miss some of the more subtle nuances.

So, I know that Jess was the son of Luke's flaky sister.  IMDB says he is the son of Luke's sister "Liz".

Isn't Liz the Renaissance Festival hippie weirdo?  Married to wannabe-contractor-knocked-a-hole-in-Lorelei's-bedroom-TJ? 

I have a hard time reconciling the Liz I know (happy hippie, who has a baby in the later seasons, right??) with someone capable of raising Jess to be such an angsty teenager.  Plus, I thought Jess' mom lived in Florida, although I always thought that was weird, since Jess seemed to "be from" NYC.

I am going crazy over this.

(PS - Yes, it is Friday night again, and I'm a little tipsy, again, in Chicago, again, and I have to get up tomorrow morning at 5am, again.  It's like fucking Groundhog Day over here.)

Don't judge me because I watch a lot of TV

So, Fall TV.  Where to even begin?

We had several old favorites from last year in the Tivo Season Pass Manager, and I proposed that we adopt a "No New Shows" policy for the fall.  Read my lips, no new shows!  Yeah, that didn't work any better than "no new taxes".  Joel added a bunch of shows "just to see if they're any good" and somehow we have now added hours of extra TV to the weekly schedule. 

And we are woefully behind.  The fact that Joel goes to bed at 10 (or shortly thereafter) and that I have been gone almost every weekend this past month hasn't helped.  Anyway, here's what we'll be watching when we find the time to devote to worshiping the DVR gods:

Monday

Prison Break: I'll be the first to admit that Prison Break is getting a little ridiculous.  Season 1, break out of prison.  Season 2: On the lam.  Season 3: Break out of a different prison!  But, hey, it's TV.  Whatever.  Michael Schofield is still smokin' hot, and I'm still finding it entertaining.

Heroes: I know a lot of people have lost interest, but I am still hooked on Heroes.  I am a mainstream sci-fi geek at heart.  You won't exactly catch me watching Star Trek, but almost all of my favorite books and TV shows have some magical or sci-fi element to them, and Heroes is no exception.  I really thought that it was going to turn out that Hiro actually WAS Takezo Kinsei, and honestly, would it not been a lot cooler than him just helping the real Kinsei find his inner hero?   Peter Petrelli's identity-in-a-box annoys me (but I'll always love you, Jess Mariano), Clare's toe-chopping grossed me out, but I'm still hooked.  This is one of the only shows we're all caught up on.

Journeyman: OK, so I broke my own rule and added this show myself.  I couldn't help it!  The Time Traveler's Wife is one of my all-time favorite books, so how could I pass up a show based on it?  Ok, you got me again.  The show is not technically based on the book.  But it practically is!  I was both terribly excited and a little bit afraid to watch the pilot, because I thought it would either be the bestest show evah, or else I would hate it for not being as great at the book.  I was pleased with the pilot, although I did find myself saying things like "Hey! He's not supposed to be able to take anything with him when he time travels!  How come he has all his clothes and his blackberry?" a lot, but I'm going to keep watching.  So far I've only seen the pilot.  I know, I know... I'm so behind!

Tuesday

NCIS: I don't know why more people don't watch this show.  All you people watching CSI out there, ditch that bimbo Calleigh Duquesne (even her name is annoyingly hard to spell) and watch NCIS instead.  I heart Tony, I adore Goth Abbie, and I've even warmed up to Ziva. .

The Unit: I shouldn't like this show.  But I LOVE. THIS. SHOW.  Again, why don't more people watch it?  You've got "Bob Brown", who I still call Noel, but instead of being a dorky R.A. following Felicity around, he's a terrorist-killing black ops soldier.  HOTT.

Wednesday

Bionic Woman: This was 100% Joel's pick, but it didn't suck as much as I thought it was going to.  In fact, much to my own chagrin, I liked it.  Shoot me now, I've officially become a fan of comic book adaptations (this was a comic book... right?).  Add that to the quasi sci-fi geekdom, and I think I'm in trouble.  I can't make a true judgment call on this, though, because I've only seen the pilot so far.

Thursday

Smallville and Supernatural: I am irrationally attached to both of these shows.  They're symbolic to me.  I started watching Smallville at The Boys' House in college, before Joel and I started dating.  I watched our box set of Season 1 DVDs in our first apartment, when we'd just started working and Joel was working 16 hours a day and I was home alone with no cable, no cats, and waay too much time on my hands.  It's gotten kind of ridiculous over the past few seasons: I was PISSED when it turned out that Lana wasn't really dead because I cannot stand another pouty word out of Ms. Lang, and seriously? These kids are supposed to be in college? When to they go to school?  How does Chloe zip back and forth from Metropolis to Smallville several times a day when they're supposed to be, like, two hours apart?  And why does Supergirl have to look like a Barbie doll?  But alas, I still love it.  And I always will.   Supernatural has not been on nearly as long, but I love it just as much.  I've always loved ghost stories (Poltergeist was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid, we used to rent them for every birthday sleepover).   I really wish that they didn't have to name the brothers Dean and Sam, with Sam being Dean from Gilmore Girls, but that's a small matter. 

It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia: Love, love, love, love it.  Do you watch this?  Why not?  Who doesn't love a good comedy about a group of really stupid friends?  Every episode I try to decide whether I love Mack or Charlie more.  I can't make up my mind.  At the moment I'd say Mack, but if Charlie draws another map of the ventilation system he'll move back into first place.

Friday

Moonlight: This was another of Joel's adds, but I love me a good vampire show.  Buffy, anyone?   So far I've only watched the pilot, and I'm teetering over whether or not we'll keep it.  Like the concept, didn't so much like the reporter chick.  She looks too much like ex-ADA Serena Southerland, and it freaks my shiz out.

And it goes without saying that I'm watching all three Law and Order franchises, right?  I don't associate them with a particular day of the week because I just save them to watch when Joel isn't around.  He doesn't appreciate a fine crime drama when he sees one, which is a real shame since I have apparently turned into a sci-fi/comic book fan under his influence.

I am fully aware that some of the staples of modern American television are missing from my list.  Desperate Housewives, Grey's Anatomy, The Office... I don't know what to say.  I've never seen the former two and I really don't have any desire to get into them.  I've seen Office re-runs and I thought they were absolutely hysterical, but... it overlaps with Supernatural.  And we have the Tivo that can only record one thing at a time.  Don't tell me to watch one show live, because I just can't do that anymore.  Tivo has set me free, and I can't go back to commercials and start times. I'll just wait til it's over, order all the season DVDs from Netflix, and then lament the fact that I have no one to talk to about how awesome it is.   That's exactly what I plan to do with the Harry Potter books, too.

Shows that we tried out and ditched: K-Ville and Life.  K-Ville was OK, but there is only so much time in the day and only so much space in the cache, and it just didn't make the cut.  The guy on Life reminded me far too much of Horatio Caine, one of the most annoying TV characters to ever grace the small screen (in my book, he comes in right after Ms. Duquesne), so that got the axe after the pilot as well.

Jeebus, does that ever look like a lot of shows.  Ten hours a week.  That's like a part time job. And Nip/Tuck hasn't even started yet!  (Not to mention 24 and Lost, both of which I'm so over but I'll still totally be watching)  Well, it's a tough job, this being a TV addict, but someone's gotta do it.

More unrelated topics, but slightly more coherent

No bullet points today, folks.  And I actually know what day it is.  Thursday, right?  (Just kidding). 

When I have a lot of stuff going on, I tend to lose track of what day of the week or what day of the month it is and just think of things in terms of my schedule, especially when travel is involved.  Like, today is two days from my next flight.  One day until I have to check in for my flight (at 11:20am).  The fact that it is also Wednesday, October 10th really doesn't matter to me.  (Hello, my name is OPH and I am the center of my own universe, thankyouverymuch!) I was especially thrown off on this past weekend's trip due to the following factors:

• Was out of the office traveling on Friday
• Got up at a god-awful hour (literally, pre-dawn) on Saturday morning and worked
• Went back to sleep from 8:30-10:30am, and woke up feeling like the previous meeting was at least three days ago.
• Had Monday off from work to recuperate
• Um... time change!  Jet lag!  It was only an hour, but it did mess me up a few times when I looked at my watch and though oh shit I'm late... or am I early? 

Anyway.  What was I saying about no bullet points?  Whoops.

***********************

On to more important topics, let's continue the hair discussion.  When I published the previous post, I left out a key nugget of information:  my new, non-asshole stylist was the one who suggested that with my hair type, I should ideally try to shampoo once a week.  I did not jump to that conclusion on my own.  For some reason I feel that I must make the world aware, by editing my last entry with BOLD updates and then mentioning it again here, that I am really not THAT lazy.  But who am I to argue with the advice of a licensed cosmetologist?  I am going to give it a try -- meaning that I am going to try to go to every three days, see how that works out, and go from there.  I really don't think it's going to fly -- I tend to produce a lot of oil (and from the comments on the last post, I am apparently in good company) and I really don't think my hair is THAT dry -- but I thought the same thing when I was told to try only shampooing every other day, and that worked wonderfully after the first few weeks of looking like a greasball on day #2.

And by popular demand (of one person) here is a picture of the new cut.  I call this photo "Day 2: So Far So Good, Right?"

I recently got a new phone (which I HATE, but that's another whole story), and its one saving grace is that it takes much higher quality photos than my old phone did.  The better to see my horribly messy office with!

****************************

Is it too late for me to do a post about my Fall TV lineup?  It has honestly taken us this long to narrow down the final list.

**************************

I have been playing around with the design of this site over the past few days out of pure blog-boredom.  I am contemplating joining flickr, but for some reason I am hesitant.  It seems like a big decision, like a commitment that I'm just not ready to make.  Anyone have advice that can push me over the edge, one way or another?   Love flickr?  Hate flickr?  Should I stay or should I go?

Some unrelated bullet points.

This month has been crazy, and my dear baby Jesus, we're only nine days in.  (Nine, right?  I actually have no idea what day it is.) 

Oh, hello there bullet points.  It's nice to see you!

• I am taking the exact same flights I took to Chicago last week on Friday and Saturday.  I feel very sophisticated and important, like those CEO types who commute from New York to Atlanta every week.  I actually know (of) people who do this, plus I read about it once in Southwest's in flight magazine, so it must be true.
• I also feel tired.  And like I should maybe know what day of the week it is.
• In going through the Netflix list to make sure I had some good movies to take with me as in-flight entertainment, I found that we have 162 movies in our queue.  Apparently Joel has learned how to freeze time, because dude.  We are never going to watch 162 movies. 
• I got a much-needed haircut yesterday, and I was quite pleased with my new stylist.
• I fired the old one, remember him?  He told me I couldn't go darker because "no one does that in the winter" and also was kind of an asshole?   He's gone.
• So, pleased as I am with the new lady, I was not pleased when I got my bill and saw that what she really meant when she said "I'm going to give you a styling lesson" was "I'm going to charge you $22 for this".
• Win some, lose some.  I'm on to her game now. Will not be so naive next time.
• And the total was still only $39, so I'm not too upset.
• Plus, she wasn't an asshole, so it's still a step in the right direction.
• She also didn't cringe when I told her I only wash my hair every other day.   (She asked how often I wash it, which I thought was a little hint that coming to the salon right from a hot yoga (=very sweaty) class, in addition to not having washed your hair in two days, is not cool.  Instead, she was actually just wondering.  See!  Not an asshole.  I like her very much.)
• Edited to add: She told me I should only be washing my hair once a week.  I'm really not sure I can pull off once a week.   But hey, I didn't think I could pull off every other day, and that worked out fine.  So I'm game to try it, at least.  (You see what happens when I try to publish posts at home?  I leave out critical information.  This little experiment is under the advice of a licensed professional!)
• If you see me in the next few weeks and my hair is greasy, just try to focus on my new cut.  The old brassy highlights are almost gone!  Hooray!
• Also, less shampoo is better for the environment. 
• And easier for me.
• So I like it.
• Tonight at the gym, I saw someone get busted.   A chick came in, and I think her mistake was sort of looking like she was doing something wrong.  She just had a suspicious look about her.  You've got to play it cool, sister.  The girl at the desk asked her if she'd swiped in, and suspicious chick replied that she'd forgotten her keys (the swiper goes on your key ring, like those fancy schmancy grocery store cards).  No problem, said Desk Girl, I'll just look you up in the computer.  What's your name?  Suspicious Chick stuttered a bit and gave her name.  Desk Girl could not find it in the computer.  Suspicious Chick admitted that she does not have a membership, and was ASKED TO LEAVE!!! 
• I have never been so happy to be paying for something in my whole life.  How narrowly I averted getting busted by the gym police! 
• I know it's boring to talk about the weather, but how about this heat?   Can you believe it?  Personally, I am ready for some fall-like temperatures.  I had to bring back the sweat towel this weekend, and it wasn't pretty.

And now if you'll indulge me in some girly girl talk, how often do you wash your hair?  I know a girl who washes it TWICE A DAY.  I also know that Miss Zoot never washes hers.  Do you think once a week is do-able? 

Do you think I could get away with showering once a week?

Just kidding.

Sort of.

Maybe only in the winter, when there is no sweat?

What to do, what to do?

Say you're traveling for.... not work. 

And say you have to be up, awake, and in your biznass pants at 5:30 tomorrow... IN THE MORNING.

Also, let's say that you're not a morning person.

What is the proper course of action?

A. Go to your dry, boring business dinner, make polite and witty conversation, then discreetly  excuse yourself to get to bed at a reasonable hour.

B. Go to your dry, boring business dinner,drink five glasses of wine, and ingest enough calories for a week.

C. Go to your dry, boring business dinner,, drink five glasses of wine, ingest enough calories for a week, and then stay at the restaurant until midnight.

D. Go to your dry, boring business dinner,, drink five glasses of wine, ingest enough calories for a week, stay at the restaurant until midnight, and then lock yourself out of your hotel room.

E. Go to your dry, boring business dinner,, drink five glasses of wine, ingest enough calories for a week,  stay at the restaurant until midnight, lock yourself out of your hotel room, and then blog about it.

If you answered  E, I'm afraid that tomorrow is going to be a very, very long day for you.   Also, you are an asshole.

Goodnight, friends.  Or should I say good morning?

PS: This post is not spell checked because I am drunk.

PPS: I love you guys.

Because I like anything that has Mofo in the title

Since all the cool kids are doing it, I'm going to do it too: jump on the International De-Lurking Day Bandwagon.  Lately the traffic here has jumped quite a bit, and I would love to know who's out there.  So get into the holiday spirit and leave a comment.

In general, I have mixed feelings about the supposed etiquette of blog-commenting.  Some people believe that you should leave a comment on every single blog you read, just so the author knows that you were there, and that you read what they had to say.  Some people make it a habit to respond to every single comment they receive on their blogs, to let their readers know that they appreciated their comment.

Personally, I am just too lazy to do either of these things.  I certainly do not comment on every blog I read.  Sometimes I just have nothing to add (especially on the blogs that get millions of comments); I don't necessarily feel that adding another "Good luck!" or "Funny story!" would add anything to the inter web world.  I know that some people just like to see a greater number of comments, but if I don't have something at least moderately meaningful to say, I generally keep my mouth shut.  Of course, it varies depending on the relationship I have with the other blogger.   I'm much more likely to leave a comment on a post if the other writer is one of my internet BFFs.  Some of this is my social anxiety, which does bridge over into the interweb.   I don't want to leave a comment and have the other person think "who the hell is this person?" 

I also tend to respond to comments only if I actually have something to say.  I know that some people make a point to respond to every comment, visit the commenter's blog and leave a comment in return.  I can see the reason behind that, and I think it's great... but I don't do it myself.   I do respond to comments if they asked a question, made me laugh, or if I have something to actually say back.  But I don't do the "thanks for your comment" email.  I almost always visit the commenter's blog, if they have one, because I love to see who it is that's reading here (hence, the delurking post), but I don't always leave a comment because of the reasons in the paragraph above.   I certainly do read every single comment, and I appreciate all of them.  It's great to know who's actually out there!

I'd love to know what the rest of you do.  Do you think I'm a big, rude douchebag for not responding to each and every comment you leave?  Do you comment on every blog you read?  Do you think the whole etiquette of commenting is kind of silly?

Happy Delurking Day to all, and to all a good night morning!

Buenas Suerte con el Pumpkin Pie!

Yesterday I got into the mood to free myself of some of the unnecessary things in the house.  The main target of this cleaning was my VHS tape collection.  I used to collect movies like crazy.   I used to actually watch them, too.   But with the advent of those new fangled DVD thingies all the kids are using nowadays (not to mention Tivo) I have come to accept that the chances that I'll ever sit down and watch my Happy Gilmore VHS are quite slim. 

Plus, I really needed that cabinet space to put a new batch of junk. 

I was going to add my VHS collection to the two big bags of Goodwill stuff in our closet, but I have a LOT of VHS tapes and there wasn't really space in the closet.   So instead, I put them out on the sidewalk.  I've used this method for unloading stuff before, and it works like magic.  Our house is right on the route that parents walk to take their kids to the local elementary school, so we get a lot of foot traffic.  And who doesn't like free stuff?  I've gotten rid of old magazines, picture frames, shoes, even a toaster in this manner.  People take what they want, I'm rid of it, I'm saved a trip to Goodwill, and best of all, I get to tell myself that people are actually going to get some use out of our old things.  It's a win/win/win/win situation.   I always tape a sign that says "Free/Gratis" (we have a large Hispanic immigrant population in the neighborhood) so that people know that I WANT them to take this stuff.  As opposed to the groceries I sometimes leave on the stoop when I come home from the store, and then forget about.  Don't be takin' my pop tarts, people! 

Because I heart recycling, I took two index cards with recipes on them out of our paper recycling bin (bin = grocery bag) and wrote FREE on the back of one and GRATIS on the other, and taped them to the wall above the stack of VHS tapes. 

I checked back an hour later, and about half the tapes were gone.

And another hour later, all the tapes were gone.  And so were my signs.  Apparently someone was in the market for some discarded, handwritten recipes on index cards.  Happy baking, whoever you are!  I was never able to get that pumpkin pie to turn out right.