Wednesday, June 30, 2004
About your lifestyle "choice"
Look. I'm inordinately happy that you've lost 572.2 pounds on your "low carb lifestyle." I'm ever so glad that you feel 110% more energetic. Really, I am.
But I'm not going to join your cult. And I don't want to hear about the benefits of your goddamn "low carb lifestyle" 702 times a day.
I don't care if you can satisfy your sweets craving with things made from Splenda. Yes, I know it's made from real sugar. To paraphrase Steve, my shit is made from real food, but I wouldn't want to eat it either.
So, really shut the fuck up.
Thanks.
Look. I'm inordinately happy that you've lost 572.2 pounds on your "low carb lifestyle." I'm ever so glad that you feel 110% more energetic. Really, I am.
But I'm not going to join your cult. And I don't want to hear about the benefits of your goddamn "low carb lifestyle" 702 times a day.
I don't care if you can satisfy your sweets craving with things made from Splenda. Yes, I know it's made from real sugar. To paraphrase Steve, my shit is made from real food, but I wouldn't want to eat it either.
So, really shut the fuck up.
Thanks.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
I know, I know
Look, I'm sorry, ok? I've been... ahem!... busy. Suddenly, when I kind of wasn't expecting it, a social life snuck up on me. I have friends up here. I have stuff to do almost every night. I'm booked. I haven't had as much time to blog lately. I will make it up to you. I swear, I'll even have a drink with you at next week's party.
Just, don't expect me to blog everyday while the weather is so pretty. And while I would rather be at the park every night after work kicking the soccer ball with my friends. And when I have all kinds of barbecues and gatherings to attend. And when I'm really, really busy at work (in a good way). So, I guess I have more time for livin' and less time for bloggin' about all the livin' I've been missing in New Orleans.
Hey...wait a minute... when did I start really liking my life up here? WTF?
Look, I'm sorry, ok? I've been... ahem!... busy. Suddenly, when I kind of wasn't expecting it, a social life snuck up on me. I have friends up here. I have stuff to do almost every night. I'm booked. I haven't had as much time to blog lately. I will make it up to you. I swear, I'll even have a drink with you at next week's party.
Just, don't expect me to blog everyday while the weather is so pretty. And while I would rather be at the park every night after work kicking the soccer ball with my friends. And when I have all kinds of barbecues and gatherings to attend. And when I'm really, really busy at work (in a good way). So, I guess I have more time for livin' and less time for bloggin' about all the livin' I've been missing in New Orleans.
Hey...wait a minute... when did I start really liking my life up here? WTF?
Monday, June 28, 2004
Friday, June 25, 2004
Decadence, Daniella Style
Yes, I had not only a lunch time mani/pedi, but also a mini shopping spree.
First, the girls (a collection of my office buddies) and I were buffed and polished to within an inch of our lives... I had the pleasure of having two, yes two, different women taking care of my extremities at once. At one point, my friend Anila looked over at my blissed out expression (having both a foot massage and hand/forearm massage simultaneously) and laughed at me. But... I have lovely ballet pink fingernails and summer fuschia toesies! And, man, do I feel pampered.
Next, we high-tailed it over to New York and Co and I bought a pair of khaki capris and, drumroll please... a pair of cropped jeans. But not just any cropped jeans. No, these were special.
Because, boys and girls, ladies and gents... these jeans are a SIZE 6!!!!
Yeah... this playing soccer three days a week, yoga once a week and going to the gym twice a week (ok, I'll admit, I've been slacking off in this area) is paying off. BIG time!
Yes, I had not only a lunch time mani/pedi, but also a mini shopping spree.
First, the girls (a collection of my office buddies) and I were buffed and polished to within an inch of our lives... I had the pleasure of having two, yes two, different women taking care of my extremities at once. At one point, my friend Anila looked over at my blissed out expression (having both a foot massage and hand/forearm massage simultaneously) and laughed at me. But... I have lovely ballet pink fingernails and summer fuschia toesies! And, man, do I feel pampered.
Next, we high-tailed it over to New York and Co and I bought a pair of khaki capris and, drumroll please... a pair of cropped jeans. But not just any cropped jeans. No, these were special.
Because, boys and girls, ladies and gents... these jeans are a SIZE 6!!!!
Yeah... this playing soccer three days a week, yoga once a week and going to the gym twice a week (ok, I'll admit, I've been slacking off in this area) is paying off. BIG time!
Playing with the Big Boys
First of all, playing soccer with the guys was a huge, humungous blast! Yes, ostensibly, it was a co-ed game, but in reality, I was one of only a handful of women. These guys were really good and I find that when I play above my skill level, it serves to elevate my game. That being said, my legs are some lovely shades of bluish-purple today from all the bruises.
First of all, playing soccer with the guys was a huge, humungous blast! Yes, ostensibly, it was a co-ed game, but in reality, I was one of only a handful of women. These guys were really good and I find that when I play above my skill level, it serves to elevate my game. That being said, my legs are some lovely shades of bluish-purple today from all the bruises.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Where the Wild Things Are
I resisted the urge to New Orleans-ize the title of the post and "where dem wild tings at?"
Anyway, I know you are sitting there, right now, thinking to yourself,
"Self, what fun and exciting things are in store for Daniella this weekend?"
Well, let me clue you in on what all the Cool Kids will be doin' come the weekend. 'Cause I live to serve you. I live to enlighten.
And, not because I don't a goddamn thing to write about and if I don't blog for a few days my mother calls to make sure I'm ok. That's so not why. Shut up. I can see your IP address you know. If you make fun of me... well...
Anyway, tonight there's a co-ed pick-up soccer game in Caldwell. It's free and at 7 PM. If you're interested and want info, send me an email. After that, the Fabulous moi will be doing my fabulous laundry. Ain't my life fabulous?
Tomorrow, John's insane friend, Rick, arrives to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting populace (I know, I know... the cliches have to stop, I can't help it, I'm creatively dead inside). Friday evening will be spent doing a tour of Montclair's seediest night spots.
Saturday morning, I have soccer practice and Saturday afternoon, I'll be at a barbecue, soaking up the sunshine. No, you're not invited. If I could, I would. Really, it's not my party.
Saturday night, we'll be in the city, meeting some people here. Yes, you can come if you want to. Well, maybe....
Sunday, I have yoga. You want to come to THAT? Well, you'll have to join my gym... but, ok. Then, a friend of mine is having a going away party for her mom, who's leaving the country. And finally, I plan to do what every red-blooded American should do on Sunday night... that's right, watch HBO's Six Feet Under.
So, what's your weekend look like?
I resisted the urge to New Orleans-ize the title of the post and "where dem wild tings at?"
Anyway, I know you are sitting there, right now, thinking to yourself,
"Self, what fun and exciting things are in store for Daniella this weekend?"
Well, let me clue you in on what all the Cool Kids will be doin' come the weekend. 'Cause I live to serve you. I live to enlighten.
And, not because I don't a goddamn thing to write about and if I don't blog for a few days my mother calls to make sure I'm ok. That's so not why. Shut up. I can see your IP address you know. If you make fun of me... well...
Anyway, tonight there's a co-ed pick-up soccer game in Caldwell. It's free and at 7 PM. If you're interested and want info, send me an email. After that, the Fabulous moi will be doing my fabulous laundry. Ain't my life fabulous?
Tomorrow, John's insane friend, Rick, arrives to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting populace (I know, I know... the cliches have to stop, I can't help it, I'm creatively dead inside). Friday evening will be spent doing a tour of Montclair's seediest night spots.
Saturday morning, I have soccer practice and Saturday afternoon, I'll be at a barbecue, soaking up the sunshine. No, you're not invited. If I could, I would. Really, it's not my party.
Saturday night, we'll be in the city, meeting some people here. Yes, you can come if you want to. Well, maybe....
Sunday, I have yoga. You want to come to THAT? Well, you'll have to join my gym... but, ok. Then, a friend of mine is having a going away party for her mom, who's leaving the country. And finally, I plan to do what every red-blooded American should do on Sunday night... that's right, watch HBO's Six Feet Under.
So, what's your weekend look like?
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Bezmozgis
Monday afternoon, my office phone rang.
“Are you listening to the Leonard Lopate Show?” John demanded.
I hadn’t been. The radio on my desk was resolutely silent. John went on to tell me about the young author that Leonard had interviewed. David Bezmozgis (probably a pen name as “bezmozgi” means without brains in Russian) was a thirty year old writer from Toronto. His family had emigrated from Riga, Latvia in the former Soviet Union in 1980, when he was six. His book was a collection of short stories about his experience as a Latvian Jewish immigrant adapting to the West.
Wait a minute! Hold up… That’s my book. Or, rather, that was the book that I always intended to write. That’s the book that I had always dreamed of writing. Only, change him to me and change 1980’s Toronto to 1978 Cleveland and later, New Orleans.
He was doing a reading the next day (yesterday) in New York City. How could I not go? As I web surfed (not at work, never at work, people!), I realized I had already read one of the short stories, Tapka in the New Yorker. My mother had clipped it and sent it to me months ago. It was fantastic.
So, I went. He read a story about the characters being invited to the rich Jewish doctor’s house for Shabbat dinner. I think that there was so much subtext that the others there, those who hadn’t lived that particular form of Jewish liberal guilt directed at you as pity, those who never knew what it felt like to be on display to alleviate their guilt, simply couldn’t understand. I remember that exact dinner--the proud smiles of the inviters, congratulating themselves on how much mitzvah they spread to these poor, poor Soviet émigrés, the shame I felt.
I listened, mesmerized, as this man I had never met accurately painted a story of my first few years in this country. I nearly fell apart as he mentioned the family returning to their beat up, green Pontiac. “Ours was green, too!” I wanted to tell him. But I didn’t.
I spoke to him briefly after the reading. There was a line of people waiting for him to sign their books, so I didn’t ask him as many questions as I wanted to. Plus, I was by myself, and suddenly found myself uncertain if he would think I was hitting on him.
Either way, I was touched. Perhaps you will be as well. Buy the book I should have written.
Bezmozgis links:
story excerpt here
LA Weekly Review
More reviews
Author Profile
Buy the book on Amazon.com
The publisher’s site
Monday afternoon, my office phone rang.
“Are you listening to the Leonard Lopate Show?” John demanded.
I hadn’t been. The radio on my desk was resolutely silent. John went on to tell me about the young author that Leonard had interviewed. David Bezmozgis (probably a pen name as “bezmozgi” means without brains in Russian) was a thirty year old writer from Toronto. His family had emigrated from Riga, Latvia in the former Soviet Union in 1980, when he was six. His book was a collection of short stories about his experience as a Latvian Jewish immigrant adapting to the West.
Wait a minute! Hold up… That’s my book. Or, rather, that was the book that I always intended to write. That’s the book that I had always dreamed of writing. Only, change him to me and change 1980’s Toronto to 1978 Cleveland and later, New Orleans.
He was doing a reading the next day (yesterday) in New York City. How could I not go? As I web surfed (not at work, never at work, people!), I realized I had already read one of the short stories, Tapka in the New Yorker. My mother had clipped it and sent it to me months ago. It was fantastic.
So, I went. He read a story about the characters being invited to the rich Jewish doctor’s house for Shabbat dinner. I think that there was so much subtext that the others there, those who hadn’t lived that particular form of Jewish liberal guilt directed at you as pity, those who never knew what it felt like to be on display to alleviate their guilt, simply couldn’t understand. I remember that exact dinner--the proud smiles of the inviters, congratulating themselves on how much mitzvah they spread to these poor, poor Soviet émigrés, the shame I felt.
I listened, mesmerized, as this man I had never met accurately painted a story of my first few years in this country. I nearly fell apart as he mentioned the family returning to their beat up, green Pontiac. “Ours was green, too!” I wanted to tell him. But I didn’t.
I spoke to him briefly after the reading. There was a line of people waiting for him to sign their books, so I didn’t ask him as many questions as I wanted to. Plus, I was by myself, and suddenly found myself uncertain if he would think I was hitting on him.
Either way, I was touched. Perhaps you will be as well. Buy the book I should have written.
Bezmozgis links:
story excerpt here
LA Weekly Review
More reviews
Author Profile
Buy the book on Amazon.com
The publisher’s site
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Hear ye, Hear ye
Do you blog? Do you read blogs? Did you once sit on the subway next to someone who might have once blogged? Are you a spouse or significant other of a blogger? Or do you just like to party?
If you answered yes (or no) to any of the questions above and you are within stumbling distance of New Yawk City....
You are invited to the First Annual PFrank Memorial Blogger Bash. Linky links and snazzy buttons are coming, but in the meantime, click here for details or to RSVP.
We want to hobnob with the blogerati and the Z list bloggers, so help spread the word.
Thanks to Mike Wolf at Randomness Personified and Ken Goldstein at the Illuminated Donkey for giving birth to the idea and organizing!
Do you blog? Do you read blogs? Did you once sit on the subway next to someone who might have once blogged? Are you a spouse or significant other of a blogger? Or do you just like to party?
If you answered yes (or no) to any of the questions above and you are within stumbling distance of New Yawk City....
You are invited to the First Annual PFrank Memorial Blogger Bash. Linky links and snazzy buttons are coming, but in the meantime, click here for details or to RSVP.
We want to hobnob with the blogerati and the Z list bloggers, so help spread the word.
Thanks to Mike Wolf at Randomness Personified and Ken Goldstein at the Illuminated Donkey for giving birth to the idea and organizing!
Friday, June 18, 2004
Lock up your children, the bloggers are coming!
A fun filled weekend is in the making, boys and girls. First up this weekend, an outing with esteemed blogger pals, Mike and Ken in our sleepy little burg. Tonight, the boys are joining John and me for cheap Indian eats then a few libations somewhere in Montclair. If you see me surrounded by three bloggin' men (well, John hasn't exactly blogged in almost a year, but whatever!), you had better run. Run, I tell ya! We bloggers are a fierce bunch, and we'd just as soon kill ya as look at ya. Ok, that's bullshit... but I'm grasping at creative straws, kids.
Saturday will find yours truly sunnin' and funnin' at MOAB. What's MOAB, you ask? Well, it's the Mother of All Barbecues. I was invited by some of the women with whom I play soccer. Should be a good time. Wiffle ball! Barbecue! Beer! Yay!
Sunday, we're celebrating the Hallmark holiday by holding a meat grill-a-thon at John's brother's house. John's parents are driving up and it should be a nice time.
So, what are YOU doing this weekend?
A fun filled weekend is in the making, boys and girls. First up this weekend, an outing with esteemed blogger pals, Mike and Ken in our sleepy little burg. Tonight, the boys are joining John and me for cheap Indian eats then a few libations somewhere in Montclair. If you see me surrounded by three bloggin' men (well, John hasn't exactly blogged in almost a year, but whatever!), you had better run. Run, I tell ya! We bloggers are a fierce bunch, and we'd just as soon kill ya as look at ya. Ok, that's bullshit... but I'm grasping at creative straws, kids.
Saturday will find yours truly sunnin' and funnin' at MOAB. What's MOAB, you ask? Well, it's the Mother of All Barbecues. I was invited by some of the women with whom I play soccer. Should be a good time. Wiffle ball! Barbecue! Beer! Yay!
Sunday, we're celebrating the Hallmark holiday by holding a meat grill-a-thon at John's brother's house. John's parents are driving up and it should be a nice time.
So, what are YOU doing this weekend?
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
The Torture
Yeah, it came to be on this day known as Bloomsday, that our intrepid young lass, of Russo-Latvian Jewish descent, and her dashing not-as-young lad, of resolutely Irish-Catholic heritage, (both of them from traditions of long suffering at the hands of literature) did indeed propose a book club so as to, once and for all, read that damn book.
Read all about the proposal here, in the comments. Please let me know if you are interested and are in the greater NYC area. Oh, and if we would like you, 'cause that's kinda important.
Yeah, it came to be on this day known as Bloomsday, that our intrepid young lass, of Russo-Latvian Jewish descent, and her dashing not-as-young lad, of resolutely Irish-Catholic heritage, (both of them from traditions of long suffering at the hands of literature) did indeed propose a book club so as to, once and for all, read that damn book.
Read all about the proposal here, in the comments. Please let me know if you are interested and are in the greater NYC area. Oh, and if we would like you, 'cause that's kinda important.
Four Months
Four months. 122 measly short days. Oh my god. It's really happening. I'm going to be a wife?
I've never been as happy and as loved and as content as I am with John. It's the label of "WIFE" that freaks me out. Can't we call me a "life partner" even though I'm hetrosexual? Damn those gays, they get all the breaks!
Four months. 122 measly short days. Oh my god. It's really happening. I'm going to be a wife?
I've never been as happy and as loved and as content as I am with John. It's the label of "WIFE" that freaks me out. Can't we call me a "life partner" even though I'm hetrosexual? Damn those gays, they get all the breaks!
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Raw, raw, raw
Today I feel raw. Windburned. Vulnerable. Achy and tired and exhausted. Do you know why? No, really, I'm asking. Because I don't know. I just feel so. So something... so, oh hell, I don't know. I just feel off. My throat tightens up and I want to cry. I want a hug. I want a cookie. I want to be in bed watching trashy TV.
Some days, you just shouldn't get out of bed.
Today I feel raw. Windburned. Vulnerable. Achy and tired and exhausted. Do you know why? No, really, I'm asking. Because I don't know. I just feel so. So something... so, oh hell, I don't know. I just feel off. My throat tightens up and I want to cry. I want a hug. I want a cookie. I want to be in bed watching trashy TV.
Some days, you just shouldn't get out of bed.
Monday, June 14, 2004
DC Recap, or how I learned to stop blogging and love the Capital
Traffic. Traffic is the defining mantra of New Jersey driving. It doesn't matter what time it is or where you are going--there's going to be traffic and you had better learn to deal with it. Those of you who know me, or have been reading more than a week, may be aware that I am not--ahem!--a very patient person. Luckily, John insisted on driving the whole way so that I couldrage at the morons clogging our nations highways and byways relax and not be stressed out by the traffic. I know, I know... the man is a saint.
Anyway, our four hour trip took six hours and Friday evening was spent in an exhausted blur at Mark and Kim's fabulous Springfield home watching movies. Saturday morning, I awoke to find that it was nearly 10 AM. In case that seems perfectly normal to you, you must understand that the last time I slept past 7 AM was about a year ago. I have some major sleep issues (as in I don't sleep much!) and I was amazed, AMAZED, to see that I had slept a full three hours later than I had in longer than I can remember. Perhaps Mark had slipped something into my beer?
We took the metro into DC and proceeded to the Holocaust Museum.
Oh. My. God. If you haven't been there yet, I suggest you go. I just kept hearing my mother's voice in my head, responding to a story John had told when they were here last week. John had been telling stories of all his cousins (he's the oldest cousin of 46) and my mom said, "you know, it's so strange, but European Jews... we don't have these large extended families, the cousins, the second cousins. My parent's generation and their parent's generation were all exterminated. " It didn't sound as harsh when she said it as it sounds now that I type it... it was said more wistfully than anything else. Yet, it was her voice, saying those words, that I could hear as I looked at the eyes in the pictures--both of the Jews and of the SS. The utmost height of man's inhumanity to one another. It is a horrifying, intense and unparalleled experience. As a European Jew, it was an experience to which I reacted viscerally. I was a sobbing mess. But I want to go back. We must never forget. And really, you should go.
When we left, at closing time, I was spent. We had a much needed drink and snack at Jaleo and headed back to Mark and Kim's house. The contrast of the happy kids (some of their neighbors were over, hanging out of the deck), friends and warmth of their hospitality with what I had seen at the museum was strange, but nice. We grilled steaks and drank wine and went to bed early.
Sunday, John and I headed out, first stopping to wander around my college campus (notorious Thurston Hall, where yours truly did a lot of hell raisin', hasn't changed a bit, and, if you follow the link, was ranked #2--it was ranked #1 when I was there!) and then peeking at the Sally Mann exhibit at the Corcoran Gallery (one of my favorite photographers showing at one of my very favorite DC places!).
And then? Well, I bet you can guess...
More traffic on our drive back to Jersey.
What a lovely weekend!
(sorry, but I didn't bring the camera)
Traffic. Traffic is the defining mantra of New Jersey driving. It doesn't matter what time it is or where you are going--there's going to be traffic and you had better learn to deal with it. Those of you who know me, or have been reading more than a week, may be aware that I am not--ahem!--a very patient person. Luckily, John insisted on driving the whole way so that I could
Anyway, our four hour trip took six hours and Friday evening was spent in an exhausted blur at Mark and Kim's fabulous Springfield home watching movies. Saturday morning, I awoke to find that it was nearly 10 AM. In case that seems perfectly normal to you, you must understand that the last time I slept past 7 AM was about a year ago. I have some major sleep issues (as in I don't sleep much!) and I was amazed, AMAZED, to see that I had slept a full three hours later than I had in longer than I can remember. Perhaps Mark had slipped something into my beer?
We took the metro into DC and proceeded to the Holocaust Museum.
Oh. My. God. If you haven't been there yet, I suggest you go. I just kept hearing my mother's voice in my head, responding to a story John had told when they were here last week. John had been telling stories of all his cousins (he's the oldest cousin of 46) and my mom said, "you know, it's so strange, but European Jews... we don't have these large extended families, the cousins, the second cousins. My parent's generation and their parent's generation were all exterminated. " It didn't sound as harsh when she said it as it sounds now that I type it... it was said more wistfully than anything else. Yet, it was her voice, saying those words, that I could hear as I looked at the eyes in the pictures--both of the Jews and of the SS. The utmost height of man's inhumanity to one another. It is a horrifying, intense and unparalleled experience. As a European Jew, it was an experience to which I reacted viscerally. I was a sobbing mess. But I want to go back. We must never forget. And really, you should go.
When we left, at closing time, I was spent. We had a much needed drink and snack at Jaleo and headed back to Mark and Kim's house. The contrast of the happy kids (some of their neighbors were over, hanging out of the deck), friends and warmth of their hospitality with what I had seen at the museum was strange, but nice. We grilled steaks and drank wine and went to bed early.
Sunday, John and I headed out, first stopping to wander around my college campus (notorious Thurston Hall, where yours truly did a lot of hell raisin', hasn't changed a bit, and, if you follow the link, was ranked #2--it was ranked #1 when I was there!) and then peeking at the Sally Mann exhibit at the Corcoran Gallery (one of my favorite photographers showing at one of my very favorite DC places!).
And then? Well, I bet you can guess...
More traffic on our drive back to Jersey.
What a lovely weekend!
(sorry, but I didn't bring the camera)
Friday, June 11, 2004
Sit still, will ya?
I've resumed my jet setting ways. This weekend, John and I are headed off to DC. No, not to see Reagan, you nincampoops, it's a coincidence!
Anyway, I doubt I'll be posting while revisiting my old college haunts (yes, I went to GW) and going to see the Holocaust Museum, which was not yet open during my collegiate days.
So, type at you Monday and have a great weekend.
I've resumed my jet setting ways. This weekend, John and I are headed off to DC. No, not to see Reagan, you nincampoops, it's a coincidence!
Anyway, I doubt I'll be posting while revisiting my old college haunts (yes, I went to GW) and going to see the Holocaust Museum, which was not yet open during my collegiate days.
So, type at you Monday and have a great weekend.
Red and Angry or how I need to learn to chill
I'm home from work playing at being the good little wife (something I am sooo not). I'm doing the laundry, washing the sheets and towels. I come upstairs with an armload of clean, fresh sheets to put back on our bed. Of course, those of you who know me will understand this, I'm cursing John's name because he's lucky enough to get to go to work today and I'm stuck doing laundry which I despise... so I put the neatly folded sheets down on the stripped bed, turn to head into the bathroom to hang up the towels and kick the bedroom door closed with my hip.
When I get back from hanging up the towels, I find the bedroom door locked. Hell, I didn't even know we had a lock on our bedroom door. I must have accidentally clicked the button on the door. No big deal, right? I am a tough broad. I know how to use TOOLS. I've changed the oil in a motorcycle. I can handle this minor inconvenience. Right?
So, I get a bobby pin and start poking around in the lock. Nothing. 10 minutes pass. Still nothing. I am getting red and angry. I'm shaking. I'm so freakin' frustrated by the unfairness of it all. My purse is in there! My keys, my driver's license! I can't leave this goddamn house! I'm a prisoner! Grrrrr. I'm positively fuming. Why do I have to deal with this?
I call John. He calmly tells me to get a bobby pin and poke around in the lock. BUT I'M ALREADY DOING THAT, YOU @#$%!!!
I pick at the damn lock for another ten minutes. By this point large, angry tears are forming. I will NOT cry about this. Goddamn it! God damn it! This isn't my fault! I'm not domestic! I have a career, I shouldn't be at home doing LAUNDRY. Oh, the humanity!
I call John and tell him there are two goddamn options. Either he gets home right away and fixes it or I'm calling a locksmith which will cost money we really can't afford to waste. He says he can be home in an hour. AN HOUR??? AN HOUR??? I'm going to be a prisoner in this house for another hour? Ok, ok, he'll go tell his boss he has to run home right away.
Appeased, I try the goddamn, evil, vindictive lock one more time. Hallelujah! It opens. All is right in my world.
Hey, why was I so upset?
No, I'm not a type A personality. Not me. Mmm--hmmm.
I'm home from work playing at being the good little wife (something I am sooo not). I'm doing the laundry, washing the sheets and towels. I come upstairs with an armload of clean, fresh sheets to put back on our bed. Of course, those of you who know me will understand this, I'm cursing John's name because he's lucky enough to get to go to work today and I'm stuck doing laundry which I despise... so I put the neatly folded sheets down on the stripped bed, turn to head into the bathroom to hang up the towels and kick the bedroom door closed with my hip.
When I get back from hanging up the towels, I find the bedroom door locked. Hell, I didn't even know we had a lock on our bedroom door. I must have accidentally clicked the button on the door. No big deal, right? I am a tough broad. I know how to use TOOLS. I've changed the oil in a motorcycle. I can handle this minor inconvenience. Right?
So, I get a bobby pin and start poking around in the lock. Nothing. 10 minutes pass. Still nothing. I am getting red and angry. I'm shaking. I'm so freakin' frustrated by the unfairness of it all. My purse is in there! My keys, my driver's license! I can't leave this goddamn house! I'm a prisoner! Grrrrr. I'm positively fuming. Why do I have to deal with this?
I call John. He calmly tells me to get a bobby pin and poke around in the lock. BUT I'M ALREADY DOING THAT, YOU @#$%!!!
I pick at the damn lock for another ten minutes. By this point large, angry tears are forming. I will NOT cry about this. Goddamn it! God damn it! This isn't my fault! I'm not domestic! I have a career, I shouldn't be at home doing LAUNDRY. Oh, the humanity!
I call John and tell him there are two goddamn options. Either he gets home right away and fixes it or I'm calling a locksmith which will cost money we really can't afford to waste. He says he can be home in an hour. AN HOUR??? AN HOUR??? I'm going to be a prisoner in this house for another hour? Ok, ok, he'll go tell his boss he has to run home right away.
Appeased, I try the goddamn, evil, vindictive lock one more time. Hallelujah! It opens. All is right in my world.
Hey, why was I so upset?
No, I'm not a type A personality. Not me. Mmm--hmmm.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Random Thoughts for a Random Day
I love the mood-lifting properties of a lunch time manicure...
I'm joining a second soccer league - bring on the bruises...
Who wants a gmail account? I have three invitations left. Wow me with your request and I'll give you one.
I love the mood-lifting properties of a lunch time manicure...
I'm joining a second soccer league - bring on the bruises...
Who wants a gmail account? I have three invitations left. Wow me with your request and I'll give you one.
Engaging
John and I just got our electronic proofs of our engagement photos, which we had taken when we were home in April. Among the files were some amusing outtakes. I thought I'd share.
hmmm... should I marry her?
Oh, you better marry me, boy!
And here are the two we thought were the best (one of these will be running as our engagement announcement very soon):
this one is one where we look so happy
I call this one "Daniella's Good Hair"
Comment if you will...
John and I just got our electronic proofs of our engagement photos, which we had taken when we were home in April. Among the files were some amusing outtakes. I thought I'd share.
hmmm... should I marry her?
Oh, you better marry me, boy!
And here are the two we thought were the best (one of these will be running as our engagement announcement very soon):
this one is one where we look so happy
I call this one "Daniella's Good Hair"
Comment if you will...
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
Thanks, Ronnie!
I just found out that my division is taking the lead of the NYSE and I get a long weekend!
I certainly was no fan of Reagan's while he was president, but I do thank him for giving me a Friday off. So, thanks, Ronnie.
I just found out that my division is taking the lead of the NYSE and I get a long weekend!
I certainly was no fan of Reagan's while he was president, but I do thank him for giving me a Friday off. So, thanks, Ronnie.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Milestone
I have been so busy with my parental visit that I let a major milestone in the life of my baby pass without mention. Yes, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen... sometime on Saturday, June 5th, probably while I was having my ass kicked at the soccer tournament, Daniella's Misadventures passed 10,000 hits. I installed the hit meter in August 2003, so while I may not have the readership of Dooce or Greg or Gothamist (terrific blogs, all), I'm pretty darn proud that this many people have stopped in to read my pointless ramblings.
Thanks to all of you for helping me get through what had been a very difficult transition in moving away from my home, my family and my friends and taking a big step into my new life. I found that having this outlet kept me sane and a lot less lonely through those dark winter months.
So, happy 10K to my baby and happy reading to all of you-I don't plan to stop anytime soon!
I have been so busy with my parental visit that I let a major milestone in the life of my baby pass without mention. Yes, boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen... sometime on Saturday, June 5th, probably while I was having my ass kicked at the soccer tournament, Daniella's Misadventures passed 10,000 hits. I installed the hit meter in August 2003, so while I may not have the readership of Dooce or Greg or Gothamist (terrific blogs, all), I'm pretty darn proud that this many people have stopped in to read my pointless ramblings.
Thanks to all of you for helping me get through what had been a very difficult transition in moving away from my home, my family and my friends and taking a big step into my new life. I found that having this outlet kept me sane and a lot less lonely through those dark winter months.
So, happy 10K to my baby and happy reading to all of you-I don't plan to stop anytime soon!
Monday, June 07, 2004
Weekend Recap, or Baby's First Armani!
So far the parental visit has gone swimmingly. Friday, both John and I had crazy work days and didn't get home until well after 7 PM. We scampered to get the apartment straightened up and headed off to JFK to pick up mom and daddy. Friday evening was mellow as we didn't get back from the airport until about 11 PM.
Saturday morning, I was up at 5 AM because I was so excited about my soccer tournament. We had to be on the field for opening ceremonies at 7 AM. There were about 20 teams from all over New Jersey and New York. We had four no-shows, so we were the only team there with no extra players. Most of the other teams had a full second roster, so every 10 minutes of play they would substitute their entire lineup with fresh players. After three games, the eleven of us were close to dropping dead. Nonetheless, we did fairly well against teams with twice as many players (1-8 loss to a young team from NYC, 1-3 loss and 1-1 tie) and more experience (we've only been playing together since November 2003). I was pretty damn proud of us!
My parents came out to watch, as did John's parents. Afterwards we all went out to dinner at Marakesh Restaurant. The food was great and the belly dancing was fun.
Sunday morning, I dragged my mother with me to yoga. I thought a good stretch would help me with my soreness (that's what happens when you play three straight hours of soccer without stopping!), but I found myself unable to get into most of the poses which I can normally get into with no problem. I got me some tight muscles, yo--anyone want to volunteer to give me a sports massage? (no, not like that, you perverts!)
After a fabulous brunch cooked by the Best Fiance Ever, all four of us headed up to the Woodbury Commons Outlet Stores in Harriman, New York. I was tired, sore and grumpy, but my parents managed to cajole me into looking for a rehearsal dinner outfit. Which I found at Armani. And my parents, who are way too nice to me sometimes, bought it for me. So, I will be wearing a fabulous pair of Emporio Armani tuxedo pants, a pair of black suede evening sandals with rhinestone buckles and a beaded cashmere sweater. Plan your outfits accordingly (wink!). John also got a bunch of lovely things, including the shirt for his tuxedo. If you live in the NYC area, I highly suggest a visit to Woodbury Commons.
And then, last nights' season finale of the Sopranos... John and I have agreed that this has been the best season (other than the first) of the whole show.
One more evening until mom and daddy leave. I wish they could stay longer (now, you never thought you'd hear me say that, did you?).
So far the parental visit has gone swimmingly. Friday, both John and I had crazy work days and didn't get home until well after 7 PM. We scampered to get the apartment straightened up and headed off to JFK to pick up mom and daddy. Friday evening was mellow as we didn't get back from the airport until about 11 PM.
Saturday morning, I was up at 5 AM because I was so excited about my soccer tournament. We had to be on the field for opening ceremonies at 7 AM. There were about 20 teams from all over New Jersey and New York. We had four no-shows, so we were the only team there with no extra players. Most of the other teams had a full second roster, so every 10 minutes of play they would substitute their entire lineup with fresh players. After three games, the eleven of us were close to dropping dead. Nonetheless, we did fairly well against teams with twice as many players (1-8 loss to a young team from NYC, 1-3 loss and 1-1 tie) and more experience (we've only been playing together since November 2003). I was pretty damn proud of us!
My parents came out to watch, as did John's parents. Afterwards we all went out to dinner at Marakesh Restaurant. The food was great and the belly dancing was fun.
Sunday morning, I dragged my mother with me to yoga. I thought a good stretch would help me with my soreness (that's what happens when you play three straight hours of soccer without stopping!), but I found myself unable to get into most of the poses which I can normally get into with no problem. I got me some tight muscles, yo--anyone want to volunteer to give me a sports massage? (no, not like that, you perverts!)
After a fabulous brunch cooked by the Best Fiance Ever, all four of us headed up to the Woodbury Commons Outlet Stores in Harriman, New York. I was tired, sore and grumpy, but my parents managed to cajole me into looking for a rehearsal dinner outfit. Which I found at Armani. And my parents, who are way too nice to me sometimes, bought it for me. So, I will be wearing a fabulous pair of Emporio Armani tuxedo pants, a pair of black suede evening sandals with rhinestone buckles and a beaded cashmere sweater. Plan your outfits accordingly (wink!). John also got a bunch of lovely things, including the shirt for his tuxedo. If you live in the NYC area, I highly suggest a visit to Woodbury Commons.
And then, last nights' season finale of the Sopranos... John and I have agreed that this has been the best season (other than the first) of the whole show.
One more evening until mom and daddy leave. I wish they could stay longer (now, you never thought you'd hear me say that, did you?).
Friday, June 04, 2004
So much fun
...but so not blog-able. Had a great time with Mr. Wolf. I would tell you all about it, but you kinda had to be there.
...but so not blog-able. Had a great time with Mr. Wolf. I would tell you all about it, but you kinda had to be there.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Oh boy, this is going to be a looooong weekend
As I mentioned before, my parents are coming up to visit tomorrow through Tuesday. Now, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my parents. They are brilliant, interesting and downright dazzling people. But then again, I may be biased.
Anyway, in between my frenzied cleaning and straightening of my apartment, my life and my environment in order to meet my mother’s maniacal standards of cleanliness and order (also know as INSPECTION), not to mention ridiculous amounts of grooming and starving myself so that my mother doesn’t think I’m fat, lazy and slovenly, I made some time to go see some live music tonight in NYC with Mike Wolf.
I have had two conversations with my mom today in preparation for their trip. During Conversation 1, I mentioned that I was heading into the city for some music tonight. My mother said something along the lines of “where do you find the time?” The tone was extremely disapproving. Conversation 2 centered around my mother picking up our wedding bands from the jeweler in New Orleans and bringing them with her tomorrow and the fact that she had just come back from the dress lady’s salon and wanted to report on the progress of my wedding own.
Regarding the rings: They’re lovely, honey, but yours is so small… are you sure you don’t want a heftier ring? You know, something more substantial?
Regarding the dress: I told the seamstress to put some boning in the dress. (My response: Mom, are you crazy? I hate boning. I don’t want boning in my dress, I’ll be miserable and uncomfortable!)
Couple this with the fact that my father, who was a pro-worthy soccer player in his day and who I banned from my high school soccer games because he made me so nervous, will be observing me play in a tournament on Saturday and a playoff game in my regular league on Monday…
Why do I have the feeling that I may not survive the weekend?
As I mentioned before, my parents are coming up to visit tomorrow through Tuesday. Now, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my parents. They are brilliant, interesting and downright dazzling people. But then again, I may be biased.
Anyway, in between my frenzied cleaning and straightening of my apartment, my life and my environment in order to meet my mother’s maniacal standards of cleanliness and order (also know as INSPECTION), not to mention ridiculous amounts of grooming and starving myself so that my mother doesn’t think I’m fat, lazy and slovenly, I made some time to go see some live music tonight in NYC with Mike Wolf.
I have had two conversations with my mom today in preparation for their trip. During Conversation 1, I mentioned that I was heading into the city for some music tonight. My mother said something along the lines of “where do you find the time?” The tone was extremely disapproving. Conversation 2 centered around my mother picking up our wedding bands from the jeweler in New Orleans and bringing them with her tomorrow and the fact that she had just come back from the dress lady’s salon and wanted to report on the progress of my wedding own.
Regarding the rings: They’re lovely, honey, but yours is so small… are you sure you don’t want a heftier ring? You know, something more substantial?
Regarding the dress: I told the seamstress to put some boning in the dress. (My response: Mom, are you crazy? I hate boning. I don’t want boning in my dress, I’ll be miserable and uncomfortable!)
Couple this with the fact that my father, who was a pro-worthy soccer player in his day and who I banned from my high school soccer games because he made me so nervous, will be observing me play in a tournament on Saturday and a playoff game in my regular league on Monday…
Why do I have the feeling that I may not survive the weekend?
Boston Recap
Our trip was wonderful. John and I make great road trip partners, although packing for trips is another story (we invariably get into a fight the night before trips, but we always make up and chalk it up to different packing styles).
We left, only a few hours behind schedule, on Friday afternoon and headed up to Holyoke, MA in the foothills of the Berkshires. John's friend Mark is a bassist in a jazz combo and they had a gig for Arts in the Park in Northampton. After the gig, we spent an evening with Mark and his girlfriend Lorna at their house. There were a lot of dirty jokes, and unpublishable pictures were taken. Mark has a very strange, very large cat who likes to be picked up by his paws and stretched.
note: no pussycats were harmed during the taking of this photo!
Saturday morning, after foregoing our planned hike because we were too lazy, John and I headed for Boston. Jenny and Adam's house is very pretty and in a charming, quiet neighborhood. But that's not what was important.
This is what was important:
Isn't he adorable?
We spent Saturday afternoon wandering around the Revolutionary War-era town of Concord with Jenny, Adam and Doodles.
In the evening, John and I ventured into Boston. We wandered through the Beacon Hill neighborhood, took pictures of dogs in Boston Commons and had drinks at the Top of the Hub (on the 52nd floor of the Prudential Center) which had amazing views of everything in the area. Then we headed to Harvard Square for dinner at the famous Legal Seafood, which was delish, though our waitress was annoyingly perky.
Doors of Beacon Hill:
Door knocker:
see all the Doors of Beacon Hill
Dogs of Boston:
See all the Dogs of Boston
Martinis at the Top of the Hub:
On Sunday, we had an amazing brunch at Zaftigs in Brookline. My potato latkes and cheese blintzes were so yummy that I nearly forgot how good my mom's versions are!
Sunday afternoon was devoted to exploring Boston University's campus and.... THE RED SOX! While, I'm not a baseball fan, seeing a game at Fenway was way to much fun to pass up. A certain someone was very proud of himself for getting tickets to a sold-out game which went to 12 innings.
Fenway pictures:
see all the pictures of Fenway
Sunday evening we stayed in with Jenny and Adam and ordered Indian. What can I say? Even the energizer bunny can't go on forever - I'm getting old.
Monday, John and I explored the Freedom Trail. This slice of our country's colonial life was fascinating. I was especially drawn to the old graves.
We had lunch in the North End at some fabulous Italian cafe and headed out of Boston. The drive back was endless due to Memorial Day traffic that never let up. Overall, a great trip. Thanks again to Mark and Lorna and Jenny and Adam for their hospitality. And thanks to Doodles for being absolutely adorable.
Update: Jenny weighs in...
Our trip was wonderful. John and I make great road trip partners, although packing for trips is another story (we invariably get into a fight the night before trips, but we always make up and chalk it up to different packing styles).
We left, only a few hours behind schedule, on Friday afternoon and headed up to Holyoke, MA in the foothills of the Berkshires. John's friend Mark is a bassist in a jazz combo and they had a gig for Arts in the Park in Northampton. After the gig, we spent an evening with Mark and his girlfriend Lorna at their house. There were a lot of dirty jokes, and unpublishable pictures were taken. Mark has a very strange, very large cat who likes to be picked up by his paws and stretched.
note: no pussycats were harmed during the taking of this photo!
Saturday morning, after foregoing our planned hike because we were too lazy, John and I headed for Boston. Jenny and Adam's house is very pretty and in a charming, quiet neighborhood. But that's not what was important.
This is what was important:
Isn't he adorable?
We spent Saturday afternoon wandering around the Revolutionary War-era town of Concord with Jenny, Adam and Doodles.
In the evening, John and I ventured into Boston. We wandered through the Beacon Hill neighborhood, took pictures of dogs in Boston Commons and had drinks at the Top of the Hub (on the 52nd floor of the Prudential Center) which had amazing views of everything in the area. Then we headed to Harvard Square for dinner at the famous Legal Seafood, which was delish, though our waitress was annoyingly perky.
Doors of Beacon Hill:
Door knocker:
see all the Doors of Beacon Hill
Dogs of Boston:
See all the Dogs of Boston
Martinis at the Top of the Hub:
On Sunday, we had an amazing brunch at Zaftigs in Brookline. My potato latkes and cheese blintzes were so yummy that I nearly forgot how good my mom's versions are!
Sunday afternoon was devoted to exploring Boston University's campus and.... THE RED SOX! While, I'm not a baseball fan, seeing a game at Fenway was way to much fun to pass up. A certain someone was very proud of himself for getting tickets to a sold-out game which went to 12 innings.
Fenway pictures:
see all the pictures of Fenway
Sunday evening we stayed in with Jenny and Adam and ordered Indian. What can I say? Even the energizer bunny can't go on forever - I'm getting old.
Monday, John and I explored the Freedom Trail. This slice of our country's colonial life was fascinating. I was especially drawn to the old graves.
We had lunch in the North End at some fabulous Italian cafe and headed out of Boston. The drive back was endless due to Memorial Day traffic that never let up. Overall, a great trip. Thanks again to Mark and Lorna and Jenny and Adam for their hospitality. And thanks to Doodles for being absolutely adorable.
Update: Jenny weighs in...
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Why do I always have to be the bitch?
Last week, in preparation for my parents picking up and taking my car (we’ve finally given up on trying to sell John’s car and instead, my dad is just going to assume the note on mine), John and I went to Best Buy to have my trunk CD changer removed and replaced in John’s car. The CD player was a birthday gift from my parents a few years back, so they knew I was going to keep it when I gave them the car.
Anyway, the installers at Best Buy somehow deactivated the car alarm when removing the CD player. After hounding John (his office is right near the Best Buy) for a few days to call and make an appointment for them to fix their mistake, he finally called today. They told him that it would have to be fixed by the same guy who did the initial install and he wouldn’t be in until this weekend. John, being the nice person that he is, just accepted this.
Well… um, no. They screwed it up and they’re going to fix it and they’re going to do it at a time that is convenient for us. Not this weekend when my parents are here to pick up the damn car. I don’t think my mom and dad had planned on spending two hours of their two days up here sitting in the Best Buy on Route 46!
So, I called and the conversation went something like this:
D: My fiancé just called over here to schedule a time for you to fix the car alarm that you disabled last week.
Best Buy Guy: um, yeah.
D: You told him we would have to come in this weekend?
BBG: um, yeah.
D: That’s simply not acceptable. The car is being sold and the buyer is coming on Friday evening. You can fix the alarm today after work or tomorrow after work. Which is better?
BBG: um, okay.
D: When can my fiancé come to drop off the car?
BBG: How about 3 PM tomorrow?
D: You’re not listening. 3 PM is the middle of the work day. How about 5:30 PM tomorrow?
BBG: Ok.
Now, was that so hard? One of the things I love about John is how nice and kind and laid back he is. Except not when it comes to this kind of stuff. When it comes to this, I just roll up my sleeves and get to be the bitch. Oh well, I guess it’s just what I’m good at.
Last week, in preparation for my parents picking up and taking my car (we’ve finally given up on trying to sell John’s car and instead, my dad is just going to assume the note on mine), John and I went to Best Buy to have my trunk CD changer removed and replaced in John’s car. The CD player was a birthday gift from my parents a few years back, so they knew I was going to keep it when I gave them the car.
Anyway, the installers at Best Buy somehow deactivated the car alarm when removing the CD player. After hounding John (his office is right near the Best Buy) for a few days to call and make an appointment for them to fix their mistake, he finally called today. They told him that it would have to be fixed by the same guy who did the initial install and he wouldn’t be in until this weekend. John, being the nice person that he is, just accepted this.
Well… um, no. They screwed it up and they’re going to fix it and they’re going to do it at a time that is convenient for us. Not this weekend when my parents are here to pick up the damn car. I don’t think my mom and dad had planned on spending two hours of their two days up here sitting in the Best Buy on Route 46!
So, I called and the conversation went something like this:
D: My fiancé just called over here to schedule a time for you to fix the car alarm that you disabled last week.
Best Buy Guy: um, yeah.
D: You told him we would have to come in this weekend?
BBG: um, yeah.
D: That’s simply not acceptable. The car is being sold and the buyer is coming on Friday evening. You can fix the alarm today after work or tomorrow after work. Which is better?
BBG: um, okay.
D: When can my fiancé come to drop off the car?
BBG: How about 3 PM tomorrow?
D: You’re not listening. 3 PM is the middle of the work day. How about 5:30 PM tomorrow?
BBG: Ok.
Now, was that so hard? One of the things I love about John is how nice and kind and laid back he is. Except not when it comes to this kind of stuff. When it comes to this, I just roll up my sleeves and get to be the bitch. Oh well, I guess it’s just what I’m good at.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Yes, I'm back
The trip was fabulicious, Doodles is waaaay more charming than I could have possibly imagined from his too cute photos, Jenny and Adam have a lovely home, the weather was gorgeous (though a bit chilly for my southern tastes), Boston was interesting and fun and I have lots of pictures and stories to share with you.
Only not now.
My parents are coming! My parents are coming! My parents are coming!
I must clean.
Everything.
Must. Clean. Now.
Eeeeek....
The trip was fabulicious, Doodles is waaaay more charming than I could have possibly imagined from his too cute photos, Jenny and Adam have a lovely home, the weather was gorgeous (though a bit chilly for my southern tastes), Boston was interesting and fun and I have lots of pictures and stories to share with you.
Only not now.
My parents are coming! My parents are coming! My parents are coming!
I must clean.
Everything.
Must. Clean. Now.
Eeeeek....
