Overheard in My Dining Room

Me: That crystals-&-tarot-cards place down the road has weekly yoga classes. I should get a schedule from them.

Chris: [Does not even bother to reply, knowing damn well that there's no way I am going to motivate myself enough to find out when classes are held, much less actually haul myself to them, but also being smart enough not to point this out.]

Me: The thing is, I don't want to go to some New Age-y kind of yoga class. I want to go to, you know, a girls-like-me kind of yoga class.

Chris: What, you mean where you sit around & drink lattes & talk about doing yoga?

Me: EXACTLY!

The Interview - Part Three

Hi! How are you? How has your summer been? Doing lots of fun stuff, are you? Me? Oh, well, lots of excitement 'round here. What with the, um, work, and, you know, more work, and also spending another 3 hours dealing with the asshats at Verizon* over the past month. Since I am going to assume that you have heard enough about

Verizon to last a lifetime, & I will further assume that no one wants to hear me whine about my job, I begged the lovely & tremendously amusing Melissa to interview me. (Yes, I know I jumped on this bandwagon before. My life is bereft of blog fodder just now, or at the very least I am too frazzled to form coherent sentences into actual paragraphs, so it's this or nothing, people!)

If money were no object, what would be your dream job and why?
In answering this question, I briefly considered many options. None of them were quite right. Which is when I realized that what I would truly love to do every day is lie on a warm beach (extra points if I can tan with no risk of cancer or skin damage), hang out with my family & friends, shop, sleep as late as I'd like & have someone else do my hair. What job is that? Heiress, perhaps? Hm. If that didn't work out, I think I might quite like to be a photographer. I love capturing a moment forever.

Where would you like to see yourself in five years life-wise?
I hope my marriage will be even stronger & happier than it is now. I would like to have children by then, biological or adopted or both. I also hope to be financially secure & have found my niche professionally with a company that I respect & enjoy working for.

What do you enjoy doing in your spare time, and why?
Spare time, you say? As in, extra time to do with as you wish? This is something that actually exists? Imagine that. I love reading & will read virtually anything. I just finished Happy Birthday or Whatever & The Last Boleyn Girl, which took me over a month to read in 15-minute increments on the subway. I am hoping for a birthday subscription to People, which could conceivably be read cover-to-cover on one trip. Baking. Watching old movies, which are infinitely better than the vast majority of new movies. Discovering new places (cities, shops, restaurants). Going to the zoo, any zoo, or really almost anywhere at all, I just like going somewhere. Am I exciting or what?

Similarly, what are a few things you'd rather get a root canal than do?
Ride a roller coaster. Go swimming. Go camping. Watch golf / basketball / bowling / professional wrestling on television. Paint. (Two rooms in the house haven't been repainted yet & I am dreading it.)

What would you say your most valuable life lesson has been?
To listen to myself. The biggest mistakes I have made in life have been because I ignored my inner voice. Also to forgive myself when I do make a mistake, although this is a lesson I still struggle with.

If you want to jump (back) on the bandwagon with me, let me know in the comments. It may take me a few days (weeks) (months?) to get back to you (see: exciting, rock-star-like lifestyle), but I'm sure the fascinating questions that I come up with will more than make up for the wait. Of course, that's assuming that anyone is still reading. Hello? Anyone?

* For those of you who know me IRL, I have finally dumped Verizon & have a shiny new boyfriend. (I love you, Comcast! Smooches!) Check your email for my new phone number. Not that I will ever be home to answer the phone, but you know. I'll probably call you back some day.

Must Share!

Guess what I am wearing right this very second???? (All of the perverts may keep their answers to themselves, thank you very much.)

A

size

four

dress.

FOUR! And it's zipped! All the way! Comfortably! This is Very Exciting News, people. Turns out that sitting around watching Judging Amy reruns & eating bon bons is not helpful for weight loss. Did you know this? Why didn't someone tell me? Apparently, what is helpful is spending 50 hours per week at work & having no time to eat. Do you think it would be wrong to stay at this job long enough to get back into a size two?

Edited to add: Yes, sadly, this is the most exciting thing that has happened to me since my last post. I am not kidding when I say I do nothing but work, get ready for work, travel to / from work & sleep (in order to get up & go to work). My house is a sty. Truly. Ask my mom. The poor woman drove an hour & a half to spend a day with me last week & was welcomed into an unspeakably messy house. And was nice enough to tell me how nice the house looked. Love you, Mom!

Brilliant May Be Overstating It A Bit

I really rock this whole blog thing, don't I? I would like to blame my craptastic new job for my lack of writing, but since I only posted three times in May, when I was still conspicuously employment-free . . . well, let's just admit that I have been particularly unmotivated lately & move on, shall we? Lots of interesting things have happened recently, or at least some semi-interesting things, or maybe just things in general. Regardless, my brain is feeling like Swiss cheese right now, and you know what that means. Bring on the meme!

What were you doing 10 years ago?
I had just become an aunt for the first time. (So! Excited! And she is even more brilliant & beautiful than I could have imagined. Which is amazing, since I thought she was pretty much perfect from the beginning.) Soon after Nessa was born, I flew to Atlanta to visit Mary. My ears wouldn't pop & for some reason, I thought margaritas might help. (Reasonable, I think.) So by the time we landed, I was looped, couldn't hear & was therefore yelling everything. I can only imagine how much fun that was for those around me. Hey, Mary, maybe that's why Jim didn't like me?

What were you doing one year ago?
Hoping & praying for my house to sell. Hating my job. Making plans for the Dave Matthews concert & our trip to Canada.

Five snacks you enjoy.
Just five??
1. Snyder's cheese popcorn
2. Krispy Kreme
3. Pepperidge Farm cheddar goldfish
4. dark chocolate
5. chips or crackers with dip (crab, shrimp, 7-layer taco, Heluva good french onion . . . pretty much any kind of dip or spread, extra points if there's cheese involved)

Five songs you know all the lyrics to.
I can barely remember my phone number, but I am a whiz when it comes to song lyrics & will remember them after hearing them just two or three times. The last five songs I listened to were:
1. Back to Black, Amy Winehouse
2. The Sweetest Thing, U2
3. Wild Horses, The Rolling Stones
4. I've Been Loving You Too Long, Otis Redding
5. Makes Me Wonder, Maroon 5

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire.
Let's assume this means multi-millionaire / billionaire, m'kay? Lots more fun to ponder.
1. buy a Kennedy-esque compound on the beach for the whole family - or at least the ones that I don't have the urge to smack on a semi-regular basis
2. adopt lots & lots of kids, à la Angelina Jolie
3. donate vast sums to charity
4. travel
5. invest, so I could continue all of the above

Five bad habits.
1. eating too much fat & sugar
2. not returning phone calls
3. procrastinating
4. worrying
5. baking in the sun (I don't do this anymore BUT I REALLY, REALLY WANT TO)

Five things you like doing.
1. going to the beach (or anywhere, really - I just like to go somewhere)
2. planning stuff & making lists
3. shopping
4. reading
5. sleeping
(In case I haven't mentioned it before, I am a ROCK STAR. The excitement never stops 'round here.)

Five things you would never wear again.
1. my wedding dress - only because, strangely enough, I can't seem to find the appropriate occasion
2. miniskirt
3. padded bra (good Lord, why?)
4. scrunchies
5. leggings

Five Favorite Toys.
I'm not much into toys, but I really, really want a laptop & would like to upgrade the digital camera. And, um, sometimes, when I'm putting the toys away after my nieces leave, I may have been known to brush Barbie's hair. And perhaps change her clothes. And shoes. I may also have bought the nieces & nephews certain toys that I really wanted for myself. (Lite Brite!) But that's normal, right? Hello? Anyone?

If you decide to jump on the bandwagon with me, leave a comment so I can check out your answers!

Update

Started the new job. Hate it. Am exhausted. Must go win lottery so I can resume sleeping in, eating chocolate & hanging out at the library. (Am quite the rock star.) Hope all is well with you!

Interview Update

My (two-and-a-half-hour) interview went fairly well, I think, except for the fact that my interviewer shared with me that there are over 70 other applicants for the job and the one she met with before me had two Master's degrees. Two! Which, if you're playing along at home, is practically like two more than I have. But she did indicate that I would be getting a call to schedule the next round of interviews so I must have dazzled her with my wit and charm. Or maybe she thought we were kindred spirits in that we both once went to the same hairdresser. (Not you, Mom!) Or maybe she was just trying to get me the hell out of her office because dear God, 2.5 hours? I've had dates that didn't last that long! (Thankfully!) Oh, and when I finally got out of there, I had planned to take the subway home, only to find out that the line that I'm on is being repaired so now it connects to . . . well, nowhere, actually. Which is extra-special fun since one of the selling points of our new house was its proximity to the T. That goes nowhere. Brilliant.

Another interview this afternoon with a different company. Another step closer to buying out Zappos. Fingers crossed!

You Waited 10 Days For This?

That was a rather long one day silence, wasn't it? Well, you know, I've been busy. Really, really busy. With all of the, um, important chocolate-eating and television-watching I've been doing. I also sold some stuff on Craig's List and organized my closet and made friends with the kids next door. Oh, and one day? Chris called for me from the back yard in the exact same tone that I would use if I had found a stack of diamond-filled Tiffany boxes. Unfortunately, no little blue boxes were in evidence, and what he actually found looked quite a bit like this:

So, um, yeah. Lots of excitement. Very busy. (Did you gag a little bit when you saw that? Because I did. And that slimy little thing is living in my back yard. Which I guess is better than in my bedroom, which is where Chris wanted to keep it. Boys are weird.)

Anyway.

The Dream Job interview is tomorrow. I am preparing for it by spending the day contemplating my wardrobe and doing my nails. Because I wouldn't hire someone for an important and responsible position if she couldn't even maintain her manicure, would you? It seems like possibly I should be doing something else to prepare for this. Something . . . not related to grooming. Some kind of research about the company perhaps? The thing is, it's kind of not my Dream Job anymore. I mean, I applied for it over a month ago, and I apparently have the attention span of goldfish because now I'm distracted by the brand! new! sparkly! Dream Job I applied for earlier today. Which probably also isn't really my Dream Job either, in that I don't recall the words "heiress", "royalty" or "obscene amounts of money in exchange for virtually no effort on your part" being used in the job description. However, my friend Mary sent me a link to this site (oooooh, shoes, want new shooooooooes, oh wait, have no money, damn) and I am fairly certain that both jobs offer some sort of monetary compensation, which means I could buy these.

Or these. And maybe these.Wish me luck!

One Day Blog Silence

The Infamous Music Meme

I've been tagged by Kimmy & Teacher Lady for this meme: List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what they are. They must be songs you are presently enjoying. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

Oh, this is bad. I rarely listen to the radio & truly have no idea what is hot right now. I've already told you that I have no idea who half the people in Rolling Stone are. The last CD I bought was . . . hmm, I actually have no idea. The last CD that was bought for me was Justin Timberlake's FutureSex / LoveSounds & I have to admit that I am strangely addicted to it. (Although, seriously, JT, it is time to get over that whole infidelity thing. Lord.) Okay, I am probably going to embarrass myself terribly, but here are the last seven songs I listened to on Napster & that are in pretty much constant rotation lately:

• Bill Withers, "Ain't No Sunshine"
• Janis Joplin, "Cry Baby"
• Jeff Buckley, "Hallelujah"
• Augustana, "Boston"
• Damien Rice, "The Blower's Daughter"
• Mary J. Blige, "Be Without You"
• Nelly Furtado, "Say It Right"

And of course, I always, always, always loooooooooove Dave Matthews. (Tickets are going on sale on the 21st, who's coming to the concert with me??) I'm not tagging anyone because I think there are only about six people left in the blogosphere who haven't already participated in this meme. If you are one of those six & want to jump on the bandwagon with me, leave me a note in the comments so I can check out your list. God knows I could use some new music recommendations!

Advice Requested

I believe I may have mentioned once or twice or a million times just how thoroughly horrible my last work environment was. As is so often the case, even I didn't realize quite how bad it was until I was free of it. Suddenly, miraculously, I am now sleeping through the night, my daily headaches are a distant memory & I don't even know where the bottle of Tums is, much less need one on every floor for immediate access. Glorious!

The problem is (you knew there was a problem, right? I can turn anything into an issue, trust me), having found myself blissfully free of the weight of job-related stress, I am not exactly anxious to jump right back into the work force. Which is an issue since Chris & I are perhaps over-fond of things like eating and electricity and other luxuries like that. And then, of course, there's my Coach / Tiffany / Sephora / shoes of any kind habits. So, yeah, I'm going to have to get a job. And while I don't know exactly what I want to do (it seems that all of the heiress positions have been filled), I do know that I don't want to spend 40+ hours a week thoroughly miserable, overworked & underpaid, with my sole purpose being to make a multi-millionaire even more wealthy. I would like to get some sense of satisfaction and purpose from my job. Which leads me to the point of this post (and yes, there is one).

I recently applied for a marketing position at a non-profit organization. This job is PERFECT for me in virtually every way. The organization is one that I wholeheartedly support and would be thrilled to be involved with. I have been training for this position for all of my adult life. In spite of my rediscovered love for sleeping in & watching bad daytime television, I really, really want this job. And today I found out that I progressed to the next step in the interview process, an applicant questionnaire that includes questions like "why are you interested in marketing and development?" and "where do you see yourself in five years?". Oh, hell. I hate questions like that. I hated them as an interviewer and I hate them even more as an interviewee. They're crap questions with absolutely no good answers and they tell you nothing about the candidate. And yet somehow I have to answer them in a way that makes a complete stranger think that I would be an asset to her organization. That I am, in fact, the best person on the planet for this position. Sadly, the only semi-coherent thought (if we're judging loosely) swirling through my head is "please hire me, oh please oh please oh please, I am a marketing genius and I will totally rock this position and you will love me so much and I will bring you candy every day and did I tell you how pretty you are?". And you can see how the only thing this will get me is banned from the building.

Any suggestions? Please?

Helpful Information

It seems that I only need to drink four Lynchburg Lemonades (perfectly made by my new BFFs, Curtis & John at the PAA) to be loooooaaaaaded.

Unfortunately, last night I drank six.

Head. Hurts.

Stupid Jack Daniels.

Looking for Answers

I'm sure you've all been wondering what exactly I've been doing with myself now that I am officially unemployed. Some of you (those of you how either don't know me very well or have generously given me the benefit of the doubt) may have assumed that I'm busy unpacking / cleaning / cooking a lovely dinner for my wonderful husband / looking for a new job in order to support my Coach habit. And of course, I am doing all of those things. Or, um, I've done some of those things. Occasionally. I've also taken lots of bubble baths in my glorious new whirlpool tub, checked out my local library & discovered that daytime television is dismal. In short, I've had lots of time to ponder the Great Mysteries of Life, to wit:

• Does ESPN not have a stylist of any kind for their anchors?
• Don't any of those men at least have wives / girlfriends / significant others to help them out? Sean Salisbury & Barry Melrose, I'm talking to you!
• Am I the only one who cares about this? My husband is surprisingly unconcerned about their wardrobe & hairstyle choices.
• Am I the only one who has noticed that Sandra Lee is a lush? Seriously, I am all about the cocktails, and I do appreciate the fact that every single episode of her show includes a cocktail recipe, but she gets much too elated about cooking sherry. Also, "tablescape" is not a word & no one should be that enthralled over napkin rings & teacup favors.
• In real life, does anyone actually have favors for their dinner guests?
• Seriously, do they? Have I been committing a horrible entertaining faux pas all these years?
• Why does everyone on the planet eat a piece of pie &/or pizza starting at the point?
• When did "chocolate" become a muffin flavor, just like blueberry or banana nut?
• Isn't a chocolate muffin just a cupcake without frosting?
• Does calling it a muffin somehow make it healthier?
• Since I assume it does not, isn't eating a cupcake a lot more fun than eating a muffin? Because I would rather have one cupcake than a whole basket of muffins.
• Does anyone actually like that lingonberry stuff at IKEA?
• How is it possible that you can put together an entire IKEA wood TV stand with one tiny hex key (included in the box), but the little cardboard storage boxes require a screwdriver and a wrench and the towel bars don't even come with screws?
• How is it possible that, knowing that, I still get sucked in to the Swedish quagmire that is IKEA every time?
• Even more confounding is how did I get sucked into American Idol this year, which leads to the most baffling question of all time - How is Sanjaya Malakar still on American Idol? The boy cannot sing & his stage presence is so awkward, it's physically painful. I am saying little prayers that this is his last week.
• Am I the only person who thinks that Tony Bennett's sole accomplishment is outliving his contemporaries? Although I will say that I went to an exhibit of his paintings once, and they were surprisingly good.
• Speaking of people that can't sing, why does Fergie have to spell at least one word in all of her songs?
• And if she must spell some random word in each song, why wouldn't she make sure that the word is spelled correctly? FYI, T-A-S-T-E-Y is not how you spell tasty.

I have also discovered this week (in case you could not have guessed) that I am terminally unhip. I have no idea who at least 60% of the "celebrities" in the last issue of Rolling Stone were. (Danger Mouse? The Arcade Fire? Who are these people?) Soon I'm going to be one of Those People who bitches about "kids today" & the horrible music they listen to & how they can't spell or hold an actual conversation & have no sense of personal responsibility & Lord God almighty, must all of the girls dress like tarts? Oh, wait. I am That Person.

I think I need to start looking for a job.

Taking Today Off

I've made the executive decision to take the rest of the day off. Since today is my first official day of unemployment, this basically means that I am boycotting the whole unpacking / organizing / cleaning thing. Damn it, I have been awake since 3 o'clock this morning with tooth (or, more accurately, lack-of-tooth) pain & I should get some kind of compensation, shouldn't I? However, it has been several months since I have had any time to sit around like third base and I'm not really sure what to do. Oh, I know!

One Word Sarcomical Sunday #7
(Someday I'll actually do this on a Sunday.)

• Your Weekend: busy
• Smelling: shampoo
• Annoyed By: everything
• Your Face: clean
• Your Pants: comfy
• Something You Want To Create: order
• A Favorite Old Movie Star: Grace
• Not Looking Forward To: employment
• Hearing: meow
• You Wish You Could: sing
• Last Thing You Cooked: chicken
• Your Breakfast: none
• Your Driving Record: nonexistent
• Last Illness: bronchial
• Want To Be: relaxed
• Mind Keeps Wandering To: responsibilities
• You Despise: ignorance
• Unprepared For: anything
• Favorite Part Of Spring: warmth
• Your Toenails: red
• Proud Of Your: marriage
• Not Proud Of Your: fear
• How You Decompress: reading
• Your Kitchen Table: antique
• Something You Want to Accomplish Today: repair

Oh hell. I just remembered that I still have to complete our taxes. So much for relaxing. Now which box do you think the tax file could be in?

March Madness

That whole Mercury retrograde thing is over and yet my life is still a bizarre, twisted little mess. Here are just a few of the things that have happened to me this week:

• Spent FIVE HOURS of my life with the Dish Network (oh yeah, I'm naming names) installation tech. That's after he showed up THREE hours after his latest scheduled arrival time. Did I mention that the dish itself was already in place, as was all of the wiring into the house? He just had to drill a few holes (which he did, one in the middle of my bedroom wall) & format the receivers (which he did not, at least not correctly, which led to not one but two phone calls to tech support and customer service, neither one of which was the least helpful but did serve to waste another hour of my time).
• Spent innumerable hours on the phone with Verizon. Yeah, I'm naming names there too, but only because I've had excellent customer service from them. True, my landline still isn't functioning correctly, and no one seems to know why, but at least they show up on time and at least appear to be making an effort to rectify the situation. My expectations are very, very low.
• Woke up on Saturday morning to discover that the discarded moving boxes on our front porch had been rearranged. Nothing appeared to have been taken (if only), just . . . stacked & reorganized much more neatly. Either I am so compulsively tidy that I did this in my sleep, or one of our neighbors is absurdly obsessive-compulsive. And if that's the case, I so want to make friends with him / her.
• Fell out of love with IKEA. I am now the proud owner of, among other things, two stainless steel towel bars that will safely hold the weight of a powder puff. A small one. Maybe. However, I am considering renting out my husband to IKEA-devotees. The man has a gift for putting together IKEA merchandise in 15 minutes or less. And he only spews obscenities for the first 10 minutes or so.
• Went to Benihana, where our hibachi chef's name was (I swear to God) Bob. The whitest man in the whole place. Maybe in the whole state. It was rather like watching Bob Dole grill burgers. Not what you might call entertaining. Is it reverse racism to ask for an Asian chef?
• Had a door fall on my foot.
• Cut my leg on the edge of an unframed mirror.
• Smacked my head on the stone mantle above the fireplace.
• And then, the coup de grâce. Last night, I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom & apparently passed out or fell back asleep or just exhibited my usual lack of grace & started to fall as I was walking in the room. Luckily I caught myself. With my tooth. On the marble ledge by the bathtub. Ow. So now I have an emergency appointment with my brand-new, chosen-from-the-internet-with-no-prior-recommendation-whatsoever-but-whose-office-is-open-at-eight-in-the-morning dentist.

This is getting ridiculous. And to top it all off, the boxes seem to be multiplying whenever I leave the room. The house is no where near completely unpacked & / or organized. Unless you count the linen closet, which is IMMACULATE. Of course, I do have the rest of the day. You know, except for when I have to go to the dentist. And if I don't lose a finger in a freak picture-hanging accident or something.

Moved

Remind me why I was so excited about moving. We are officially moved into our new house & I am surrounded by seemingly insurmountable chaos. Boxes everywhere. Only some of them are actually labeled. Even less are labeled with information that makes any sense or has any relation to the contents actually found therein. We had to brush our teeth with Listerine on Sunday (the toothpaste was eventually found in a box labeled "office supplies") and I couldn't find my underwear (in the "sleepwear" box) until Monday. And the best part is, I have imposed upon myself a completely arbitrary & utterly unrealistic deadline to have everything unpacked & our new house in perfect order within one week. Why?, you ask. Well, clearly I am a total idiot.

But I am an idiot that will have a clean, well-organized house within a week.

Or I will crack from the pressure and Chris will come home to find me hiding under the dining room table, clutching a box cutter and weeping over our lack of adequate storage space.

In case you're wondering, no, I haven't found my mind yet. It must be in one of those unmarked boxes.

Four Days Left!

I'm training my replacement at the office this week. Fortunately, she's not a complete idiot (a ringing endorsement, no?), but the process is very difficult for me. I am more of a "just get out of my way & let me do it, God, why do I have to keep explaining things to you?" kind of person. Plus this whole training thing has taken up all the free time I have at work, which makes it nearly impossible to blog. Not that I would ever blog at work. Of course. But if I did, I would have time to tell you all about my mom getting lost in Pittsburgh for two hours, in spite of various sailors and construction workers attempting to send her in the right direction. And then she spent another two hours cleaning my louver doors with a Q-tip. And she's still speaking to me. My mom rocks. But since I should be packing, I will have to content myself with this:

One-Word Sarcomical Sunday # 6
(Only One Day Late!)

• Your Mood: frenzied
• What You're Craving: chocolate
• Your Favorite Day of the Week: Friday
• Your Mind: shredded
• Something that Cheers You Up: Chris
• Something that Depresses You: loss
• Where Your Keys Rest at Night: somewhere
• A TV Gameshow You Secretly Get Into: none
• The Way You Like Your Eggs: omelette
• Your Hair: curly
• The Last Thing You Ordered Online: curtains
• The Messiest Room In Your Home Right Now: all
• Your Least Favorite Month: January
• The Worst Fashion Fad You Participated In: blond
• How Many Times In the Night You Get Up To Pee (on average): one
• Your Journey: meandering
• A Sound that Makes You Happy: purring
• Your First Date: amazing
• Something You Wish You Did More Often: exercise
• Something You Admire: fearlessness
• The First Place You Go When You Get Home: mail
• What You're Going to Do Now: pack
  

Of All the Things I've Lost

I miss my mind the most.

I just wandered around my house for, literally, ten minutes, tossing things aside & tearing through boxes, until I finally just stopped in the middle of the upstairs hallway & said - out loud, even though no one else was there, not even the cats - "For the love of God, where in the hell did I pack the . . . ponytail . . . holder . . . thingies . . .". Because not only could I not find a ponytail holder thing, I couldn't even think of what they are actually called. Elastics? Hairbands? Whatever. Either I am in the beginning stages of early-onset Alzheimer's, or I have so much crap going on, I can't even string two coherent words together.* Which is a perfect segue into . . .

One Word Sarcomical Sunday #5
(Only Five Days Late)

• Your Current Footwear: pink
• Something You're Doing Later: packing
• Something You Wish You Could Do Right Now: unpack
• Your Age At the Time Of Your First Kiss: ?
• Your Feelings About Global Warming: worried
• A Sport You Wish Would Never Be Shown On Television: fishing
• Something On Your Desk that Shouldn't Be: piles
• A Word To Describe The Current State of Your Sex Life: hopeful
• How the Sky Looks Right Now: dark
• Which of Snow White's 7 Dwarfs You'd Be: Grumpy
• Your Preferred Birthday Cake: pie
• A Magazine You Subscribe To: none
• Number of Piercings You Have: two
• Your Favorite Delivery/Takeout Item: Chinese
• A Game You Hate to Play: cards
• The Name of Your First Real-Life Crush: John
• The Hand You Write With: right
• The Hand You Wear Watches On: left
• Your Clothes Closet: trashed
• The Side of the Bed You Sleep On (from the on-the-bed perspective): left
• A Flavor You Love: cheesy
• Your Car: beast
• The Last Thing You Misplaced: mind
• Your High School Mascot: Spartan
• Your Wasted Talent: talent?

* Did I tell you that I cut off all of my hair? Because I did. Chopped it all off way back in January, the same day that I got a call from Jack, telling me "Hey, remember how you thought your house was going to sell? Yeah, not so much." So now it's at about chin length. Which is not exactly long enough for even the most pathetic ponytail. Which did not stop me from searching for a holder (elastic? band?) for ten minutes. Perhaps my mind has been packed already & I will discover it after we move.

Forget the Beer, It's Time for Bourbon

Inspired by Stacy (why didn't someone tell me about the wonder & joy that is Jurgen Nation?) & the utter chaos that is my life right now, I've decided to share the most wonderful thing in the world* with you: my recipe for Bourbon Slush. You're welcome.

Bourbon Slush

2 cups of freshly brewed, strong tea

1 (6 ounce) can frozen orange juice concentrate
1 (12 ounce) can frozen lemonade concentrate
1 .5 cups white sugar

7 cups water
3-ish cups bourbon whiskey (3 cups, 5 cups, who's counting?)
7-Up
grenadine or maraschino cherry juice, to taste

In a large, freezer-safe container, mix together the tea, juice & lemonade concentrates, sugar, water & whiskey. Freeze.

(This is the hard part. It will take at least 24 hours to freeze. And if you are like me, you have absolutely no patience & will not want to wait an entire day for your slush. (You lush.) I have learned two things. One: it is wise to always have slush made so you never have to wait. Two: if for some reason you find yourself sans slush because of all the things going on in your life that are requiring you to drink copious amounts of bourbon in the first place, it helps to distract yourself with chocolate or George Clooney or something equally delicious.)

Once the mixture is frozen, use a metal spoon to break up the block o' bourbon into slush. Some people would advise you to wait 10 minutes or so to allow it to thaw a bit. These people obviously have more patience than I do because hello! I've already waited at least 24 hours, I'm not made of stone! Besides, I think of that little bit of extra effort as exercise, which I'm sure we could all use considering the massive amounts of bourbon we are about to consume. So anyway, then fill your glass about three-quarters of the way with slush, add grenadine to taste & top with 7-Up. Garnish with a cherry. Voilà! Welcome to Bourbon Heaven!

*Except for maybe Chocolate Therapy. And sleep. And food you neither have to cook or unwrap. And sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. And never having to paint ever, ever again. So, okay, maybe Bourbon Slush isn't THE most wonderful thing (and, to be fair, those other things may just be my own personal cravings), but it' s pretty damn good. Now, do I distract myself with truffles or The Clooney?

Constructive Use of Time

Because with just thirteen days (THIRTEEN DAYS!!!) left until The Move, I have nothing better to do than uncover my VisualDNA. Focus, Shawn. FOCUS. (Thanks, Missy!)

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This Never Happens on the T

Concert sauvage dans le métro !
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Love the middle-aged white woman getting her groove on in the background.