My sister and I went to Staples the other day and she asked the cashier for one stamp. The lady looked at her as if Jenny was a drooling two-year-old and said, "We need to sell those in sheets."
I laughed and said:
"Hmmm...let's see...I need one pen cap, two sheets of paper, one piece of Scotch tape..."
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
We are Finally Getting a Sofa Thing
Tomorrow people are going to deliver a brand-new khaki-colored sofa that converts into a bed so that we can finally have a real guest room and not a room-full-of-junk-I-should-have-thrown-out-months-ago. I went through my room-full of junk, and because I'm a hoarder, it's really difficult for me to get rid of anything, even the spare flooring left over from when we got our floors put in. I mean, what if we need a plank of wood floor some day? And the fifth copy of the AAA New York City map? What if that Jehovah's Witness who comes over every weekend asks me how to get to the Triborough Bridge? I'll be able to give him my map. How horrible would I feel if I said to him, "Oh, I had a map, actually 5, but I wanted less clutter in my home so I threw is out. Sorry!"
But I am trying to be good about things, and not bury Peter in stuff. Also, I know that we will move from this place some day (probably soon, since Peter doesn't like condo-living. Once you go house-living, you can't go back. Plus we're too lazy to take out the dogs) and I don't want to have another nightmarish move where I am confronted by the boxes and boxes of junk I've accumulated.
The sofa that converts into a bed will be for our guest bedroom, so that our guests will be able to stay overnight. Peter has been trying to get me to clean that room up for weeks so that his mother can stay here for the weekend. It's been four months because, quite frankly, that's not much incentive.
If Peter had said, this guest bedroom needs to be cleaned out so that Kate Winslet can come spend the night, I would have had it done in two seconds. By throwing away all my stuff. Nothing's too good for Kate, my celebrity-best-friend.
But I am trying to be good about things, and not bury Peter in stuff. Also, I know that we will move from this place some day (probably soon, since Peter doesn't like condo-living. Once you go house-living, you can't go back. Plus we're too lazy to take out the dogs) and I don't want to have another nightmarish move where I am confronted by the boxes and boxes of junk I've accumulated.
The sofa that converts into a bed will be for our guest bedroom, so that our guests will be able to stay overnight. Peter has been trying to get me to clean that room up for weeks so that his mother can stay here for the weekend. It's been four months because, quite frankly, that's not much incentive.
If Peter had said, this guest bedroom needs to be cleaned out so that Kate Winslet can come spend the night, I would have had it done in two seconds. By throwing away all my stuff. Nothing's too good for Kate, my celebrity-best-friend.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
We Don't Know That Person
Macy's keeps calling our phone number and telling us that they are trying to get in touch with Gloria Dingler. We keep ignoring these messages, but they have been really persistent.
Peter finally picks up the phone the other day to let them know that they can stop calling us, because we don't know Gloria Dingler and she doesn't live here. The conversation went like this:
Phone Operator: Alright, I'll call back another time.
Peter: But this is not her number.
PO: Yes, but this is the phone number she gave us, and we have to call that number.
Peter: No matter how many times you call that number, she's still not going to be here.
PO: It doesn't matter.
Peter: May I speak with your manager?
PO: I am the manager, sir. We're trying to collect this debt and I need to call this number.
So Peter got really aggravated and told her to take the number off the account. She said she would, but Peter doesn't believe her.
Of course, I'm thinking, "Gloria Dingler? Can that name sound more fake? She might as well be named Esmerelda Fragilistic.
Anyway, just in case Gloria Dingler is a real person and if you happen to know Gloria Dingler, Macy's is looking for her.
Peter finally picks up the phone the other day to let them know that they can stop calling us, because we don't know Gloria Dingler and she doesn't live here. The conversation went like this:
Phone Operator: Alright, I'll call back another time.
Peter: But this is not her number.
PO: Yes, but this is the phone number she gave us, and we have to call that number.
Peter: No matter how many times you call that number, she's still not going to be here.
PO: It doesn't matter.
Peter: May I speak with your manager?
PO: I am the manager, sir. We're trying to collect this debt and I need to call this number.
So Peter got really aggravated and told her to take the number off the account. She said she would, but Peter doesn't believe her.
Of course, I'm thinking, "Gloria Dingler? Can that name sound more fake? She might as well be named Esmerelda Fragilistic.
Anyway, just in case Gloria Dingler is a real person and if you happen to know Gloria Dingler, Macy's is looking for her.
Monday, January 08, 2007
The Dog Park Does Not Like Us
It's been too long since the dogs have gotten any exercise. I admit that it's my fault. I'm the one that is home most days, but they're big, and I'm a little hesitant to take them to dog parks by myself.
Yesterday, Peter agreed to go with us, so I found a dog park in a nearby town. We have the worst luck in the world when it comes to going to a restaurant/museum/dog park. For instance, last month I decided that we should try a new restaurant. I kept reading great reviews about The Inn at Pound Ridge, which supposedly has really good brunches, and it's about 15 minutes away from us, so I check out the web site, and we went. Of course, we get there and guess what? Closed and under new management.
My pet peeve is an establishment that has a non-updated web site. Why have a web site if you're not going to have accurate information on it?
Yesterday I checked out the dog park web site, downloaded directions, and rounded up the dogs. It was a beautiful day, 70 degrees in January, the most perfect winter day in New York ever. We get there with our handy new Garmin and Peter says, "I hope there's not too many people there."
We get there, there were strange twists and turns and we would have never found it on our own without "Jill," our handy electronic Garmin-voice. As we approach the dog park, Peter said, "Oh, great! There isn't anyone there at all."
Two seconds later he says, "Uh, oh. There isn't anyone there at all."
That's right. Because it's CLOSED until April.
The dog park Sucks Balls AND it doesn't update its web site. It deserves to go to internet hell.
Yesterday, Peter agreed to go with us, so I found a dog park in a nearby town. We have the worst luck in the world when it comes to going to a restaurant/museum/dog park. For instance, last month I decided that we should try a new restaurant. I kept reading great reviews about The Inn at Pound Ridge, which supposedly has really good brunches, and it's about 15 minutes away from us, so I check out the web site, and we went. Of course, we get there and guess what? Closed and under new management.
My pet peeve is an establishment that has a non-updated web site. Why have a web site if you're not going to have accurate information on it?
Yesterday I checked out the dog park web site, downloaded directions, and rounded up the dogs. It was a beautiful day, 70 degrees in January, the most perfect winter day in New York ever. We get there with our handy new Garmin and Peter says, "I hope there's not too many people there."
We get there, there were strange twists and turns and we would have never found it on our own without "Jill," our handy electronic Garmin-voice. As we approach the dog park, Peter said, "Oh, great! There isn't anyone there at all."
Two seconds later he says, "Uh, oh. There isn't anyone there at all."
That's right. Because it's CLOSED until April.
The dog park Sucks Balls AND it doesn't update its web site. It deserves to go to internet hell.
Friday, January 05, 2007
I Almost Killed a Baby...But it was Her Mother's Fault
Last week, I took my (cell phone) loser sister to get a new cell phone. It was December 28, a day that will live on in infamy as The Worst Day to Travel to New York City. I spent about five hours stuck in traffic moving about a half-inch every ten minutes.
At one point, I wanted to make a left turn and although the light had just turned green for me, a lady with her toddler walking right behind her decided to push her way across the street. As soon as she passed my car, I step on the gas. At that moment, the lady throws her baby back in front of my car and by some miracle of God, my peripheral vision catches this and I slam on the brakes. Generally, when people walk past my car, I am not expecting them to come back and throw their baby under my tires.
I was inches away from killing her baby and Jenny, who was sitting in the passenger's seat said, "I was already bracing myself for the impact."
She demonstrated this by making a sad face and smooshing her head against the headrest. It was kind of a cute sad face, a face that said, "If I hadn't lost my cell phone, then my sister would not be driving me to the Verizon store and your baby would still be alive."
I couldn't help but put both hands to my face as I watched the mother pick up her daughter and move back onto the sidewalk. She and I stared at each other, and in that moment we both recognized what could have happened.
The lesson I have learned is this: If you have a stupid mother, just be thankful that you got out of childhood alive. Because when you were too young to remember, she might have thrown you in front of oncoming traffic.
I was still getting my bearings, but because this is New York City, everyone behind me started honking like crazy. Because it's THEIR TURN to move another half-inch and they don't want to lose their opportunity.
At one point, I wanted to make a left turn and although the light had just turned green for me, a lady with her toddler walking right behind her decided to push her way across the street. As soon as she passed my car, I step on the gas. At that moment, the lady throws her baby back in front of my car and by some miracle of God, my peripheral vision catches this and I slam on the brakes. Generally, when people walk past my car, I am not expecting them to come back and throw their baby under my tires.
I was inches away from killing her baby and Jenny, who was sitting in the passenger's seat said, "I was already bracing myself for the impact."
She demonstrated this by making a sad face and smooshing her head against the headrest. It was kind of a cute sad face, a face that said, "If I hadn't lost my cell phone, then my sister would not be driving me to the Verizon store and your baby would still be alive."
I couldn't help but put both hands to my face as I watched the mother pick up her daughter and move back onto the sidewalk. She and I stared at each other, and in that moment we both recognized what could have happened.
The lesson I have learned is this: If you have a stupid mother, just be thankful that you got out of childhood alive. Because when you were too young to remember, she might have thrown you in front of oncoming traffic.
I was still getting my bearings, but because this is New York City, everyone behind me started honking like crazy. Because it's THEIR TURN to move another half-inch and they don't want to lose their opportunity.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
New Year's Resolution
I don't know how to decorate. I was raised by a woman who does not believe in knick-knacks. Whenever anyone would give my mother a lovely vase, a ceramic bowl, or a porcelain dolphin, she looks at it and wonders why a person would throw away perfectly good money on clutter. This same person does not get into the habit of hanging anything up on the walls. I grew up in a very, shall we say, MINIMALIST household.
For the longest time, the only things hanging up on the wall were several paintings I did in junior high. My mother once said, "That painting is more precious to me than any Picasso. I mean, who is he to me, anyway? Picasso isn't FAMILY."
Peter and I went to Vinnie and Gretchen's house for a New Year's Eve celebration. We've been moved into our condo for the past three months, which is about the same amount of time Vinnie and Gretchen have been at their house and there are still boxes in the living room, our spare room has become our spare closet-full-of-junk-we-should-have-thrown-out-months-ago. The basement is a nightmare, and I still haven't unwrapped one of our dining room chairs.
Anyway, when we walked into Gretchen's house - it was DONE. Plates hung up on the wall, Christmas decorations with a real Christmas tree and presents under it, all the furniture unpacked, with a plant and candlesticks on the dining room table. The lady has about three jobs, a four-year-old to take care of, and manages to whip her household into shape.
On my way home, Peter consoled me by saying, "Gretchen grew up in a decorated house. She learned all this from her mom. I mean, your mom is kind of like, 'Hey! I got this picture of a water-fall from one of my customers...and I'm going to put it...HERE! Behind the stereo speakers!'"
Gretchen told me that she spent a crazy amount of money for all the furniture and stuff and it's going to take her four years to pay it off - but at least she gets to live in a nice place for four years. I'm so frugal, we still don't have a REAL dining room table.
My New Year's Resolution is to make my house a home - even if I have to spend gobs of money.
For the longest time, the only things hanging up on the wall were several paintings I did in junior high. My mother once said, "That painting is more precious to me than any Picasso. I mean, who is he to me, anyway? Picasso isn't FAMILY."
Peter and I went to Vinnie and Gretchen's house for a New Year's Eve celebration. We've been moved into our condo for the past three months, which is about the same amount of time Vinnie and Gretchen have been at their house and there are still boxes in the living room, our spare room has become our spare closet-full-of-junk-we-should-have-thrown-out-months-ago. The basement is a nightmare, and I still haven't unwrapped one of our dining room chairs.
Anyway, when we walked into Gretchen's house - it was DONE. Plates hung up on the wall, Christmas decorations with a real Christmas tree and presents under it, all the furniture unpacked, with a plant and candlesticks on the dining room table. The lady has about three jobs, a four-year-old to take care of, and manages to whip her household into shape.
On my way home, Peter consoled me by saying, "Gretchen grew up in a decorated house. She learned all this from her mom. I mean, your mom is kind of like, 'Hey! I got this picture of a water-fall from one of my customers...and I'm going to put it...HERE! Behind the stereo speakers!'"
Gretchen told me that she spent a crazy amount of money for all the furniture and stuff and it's going to take her four years to pay it off - but at least she gets to live in a nice place for four years. I'm so frugal, we still don't have a REAL dining room table.
My New Year's Resolution is to make my house a home - even if I have to spend gobs of money.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Tomatillo Restaurant
We had lunch at this new place I've discovered - Tomatillo Restaurant. It's located in Dobbs Ferry and it's fantastic! It's a mexican restaurant which tries to use organic produce from the local area. We had burritos, which were excellent and their french fries were the best I've ever tasted.
The sad thing is that the Louisiana Cajun Cafe, which was on the same block, no longer exists. I really liked their Jambalaya. Oh well.
The sad thing is that the Louisiana Cajun Cafe, which was on the same block, no longer exists. I really liked their Jambalaya. Oh well.
Thursday, December 28, 2006
She is such a Loser
My sister Jenny has lost her cell phone...again.
She is always wrecking or losing her cell phones. Three years ago, she let an elderly man at the nursing home she volunteered at spill water all over a VERY expensive cell phone - a phone that I used up my "every 2-years get a $100 upgrade credit" to purchase because she wanted to TEXT MESSAGE. A credit that I was planning on using for my husband's new cell phone. A credit that I had been dangling in front of his nose so that he wouldn't spend a gagillion dollars on a new cell phone. When I came home that night and told him I had given the credit to my sister, steam practically hissed out of his ears.
Last year she lost her cell phone for close to a week before telling anyone. Someone could have been charging calls to shady businesses in Guam for a few days, but she was afraid of getting yelled at by our parents and myself to concern herself with what would happen to me if a million dollars got charged to my phone bill.
She lost that phone because she was at a crazy Amherst College party located in a stairwell(?!) and for some reason, everyone stampeded out and she lost her cell phone, her shoe, and got banged around.
How could she have lost her cell phone and her shoe?
I don't know if I really believe that story - but she's sticking to it, and our parents have a policy of "Don't ask. Don't tell."
Luckily, campus police found it and called my Dad, who then emailed her so she got that one back...until she lost it today.
She went for a make-up application workshop(?!) and walked around Fort Lee. According to Jenny, she put the cell phone in her bag and POOF! it disappeared.
Yeah. Right.
She is always wrecking or losing her cell phones. Three years ago, she let an elderly man at the nursing home she volunteered at spill water all over a VERY expensive cell phone - a phone that I used up my "every 2-years get a $100 upgrade credit" to purchase because she wanted to TEXT MESSAGE. A credit that I was planning on using for my husband's new cell phone. A credit that I had been dangling in front of his nose so that he wouldn't spend a gagillion dollars on a new cell phone. When I came home that night and told him I had given the credit to my sister, steam practically hissed out of his ears.
Last year she lost her cell phone for close to a week before telling anyone. Someone could have been charging calls to shady businesses in Guam for a few days, but she was afraid of getting yelled at by our parents and myself to concern herself with what would happen to me if a million dollars got charged to my phone bill.
She lost that phone because she was at a crazy Amherst College party located in a stairwell(?!) and for some reason, everyone stampeded out and she lost her cell phone, her shoe, and got banged around.
How could she have lost her cell phone and her shoe?
I don't know if I really believe that story - but she's sticking to it, and our parents have a policy of "Don't ask. Don't tell."
Luckily, campus police found it and called my Dad, who then emailed her so she got that one back...until she lost it today.
She went for a make-up application workshop(?!) and walked around Fort Lee. According to Jenny, she put the cell phone in her bag and POOF! it disappeared.
Yeah. Right.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
I Hope I Won't Ever Have to Shave
Peter went to his mom's house a few days ago and noticed that she had two cans of shaving cream in the bathroom. When he asked his mother what she needed shaving cream for, she pointed to her face.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
No Christmas Tree, No Christmas Tree
This always happens:
1. I get excited about an event
a. wedding
b. Thanksgiving
c. Parties
2. In my head I plan all sorts of things I am going to do for said event
a. design beautiful programs for my wedding
b. make little butter pats shaped like leaves for Thanksgiving dinner
c. clean up the house
3. Time gets away
4. Before I know it, it is a week before the event and I realize that I will never
a. have time to make the programs
b. find the butter pat molds
c. clean up the house
This year, I planned to have a very elaborate Christmas tree, which will be the first Christmas tree I've shared with Peter (and yes, we've known each other more than 9 years - sad? yes!) - and in fact, the second Christmas tree I will have purchased myself, the first being the Christmas tree I got for my sisters when I was in college. My parents decided to go away on a lovely trip to Taiwan, leaving me to handle Christmas.
My sisters were 12 and 6 at the time - prime ages in which Christmas is still full of magic and unrealistic expectations. I was assaulted by a tremendous feeling of anxiety because not only did my sisters have to face Christmas without my parents, but I had to fulfill all wishes and desires.
I got them a tree on a very snowy and bitter cold day while running a 103 degree fever. I wasn't even going to get a tree, since we don't usually, but the six-year-old put on such a sad face that I went out and got a tree. I was so freaking happy and so proud of myself. I remember reaching the door, and being ridiculously excited to show the tree to the girls.
When the little one saw the tree she wrinkled her nose and said:
"That tree is too small."
I felt as if she had yanked out my heart and stomped on it with her teeny-tiny feet. All I could remember is that I screamed some jibberish at her (it was the fever talking) and collapsed on the sofa, where I passed out.
When I woke up a few hours later, the tree was completely decorated (albeit badly). My sisters had felt so bad that they wanted me to wake up to a decorated tree.
I cleaned up the condo yesterday, and Peter asked me why.
"I'm clearing out space for the tree," I said.
"You do realize that Christmas is next week," Peter said. "And we don't even own any decorations."
1. I get excited about an event
a. wedding
b. Thanksgiving
c. Parties
2. In my head I plan all sorts of things I am going to do for said event
a. design beautiful programs for my wedding
b. make little butter pats shaped like leaves for Thanksgiving dinner
c. clean up the house
3. Time gets away
4. Before I know it, it is a week before the event and I realize that I will never
a. have time to make the programs
b. find the butter pat molds
c. clean up the house
This year, I planned to have a very elaborate Christmas tree, which will be the first Christmas tree I've shared with Peter (and yes, we've known each other more than 9 years - sad? yes!) - and in fact, the second Christmas tree I will have purchased myself, the first being the Christmas tree I got for my sisters when I was in college. My parents decided to go away on a lovely trip to Taiwan, leaving me to handle Christmas.
My sisters were 12 and 6 at the time - prime ages in which Christmas is still full of magic and unrealistic expectations. I was assaulted by a tremendous feeling of anxiety because not only did my sisters have to face Christmas without my parents, but I had to fulfill all wishes and desires.
I got them a tree on a very snowy and bitter cold day while running a 103 degree fever. I wasn't even going to get a tree, since we don't usually, but the six-year-old put on such a sad face that I went out and got a tree. I was so freaking happy and so proud of myself. I remember reaching the door, and being ridiculously excited to show the tree to the girls.
When the little one saw the tree she wrinkled her nose and said:
"That tree is too small."
I felt as if she had yanked out my heart and stomped on it with her teeny-tiny feet. All I could remember is that I screamed some jibberish at her (it was the fever talking) and collapsed on the sofa, where I passed out.
When I woke up a few hours later, the tree was completely decorated (albeit badly). My sisters had felt so bad that they wanted me to wake up to a decorated tree.
I cleaned up the condo yesterday, and Peter asked me why.
"I'm clearing out space for the tree," I said.
"You do realize that Christmas is next week," Peter said. "And we don't even own any decorations."
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
The Hummingman
When you go apartment-hunting or house-hunting, there are always a thousand different things that you can never know about a building until you live in it.
For instance, our new condo has central air-conditioning vents that enable us to hear our downstairs neighbor. We can never make out what she's saying, exactly - it kind of sounds like what Charlie Brown's teachers say during a Peanuts cartoon show.
These past few months, our neighbor has been renovating her bathroom. Her handyman hums bad R&B while he tiles her bathroom, and it's been driving the dogs a bit batty. I think that they believe the humming noises belong to a puppy who is being tortured in the downstairs bathroom. My dogs run around in circles and whine. Occasionally, they will come up to me with a look of concern on their faces and I can almost hear them say, "Well, aren't you going to DO something about that?"
The thing is, that today the handyman was talking to my neighbor in the bathroom and I could hear EVERY WORD CLEAR AS A BELL.
Because she is a single mom lady, and I've never heard her talk to anyone while she's been in the bathroom before, I never realized that the vents in the bathroom are completely un-sound-proof. Which got me to thinking - that she hears me every time Peter's in there and I shout, "HEY! Are you POOPING in there?"
For instance, our new condo has central air-conditioning vents that enable us to hear our downstairs neighbor. We can never make out what she's saying, exactly - it kind of sounds like what Charlie Brown's teachers say during a Peanuts cartoon show.
These past few months, our neighbor has been renovating her bathroom. Her handyman hums bad R&B while he tiles her bathroom, and it's been driving the dogs a bit batty. I think that they believe the humming noises belong to a puppy who is being tortured in the downstairs bathroom. My dogs run around in circles and whine. Occasionally, they will come up to me with a look of concern on their faces and I can almost hear them say, "Well, aren't you going to DO something about that?"
The thing is, that today the handyman was talking to my neighbor in the bathroom and I could hear EVERY WORD CLEAR AS A BELL.
Because she is a single mom lady, and I've never heard her talk to anyone while she's been in the bathroom before, I never realized that the vents in the bathroom are completely un-sound-proof. Which got me to thinking - that she hears me every time Peter's in there and I shout, "HEY! Are you POOPING in there?"
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
A Beautiful Mind
The scariest scene in the movie "A Beautiful Mind" is when Jennifer Connelly walks into the shed and she discovers that her husband has been filling up the room with reams and reams of writing that covers every square inch of space and is wallpapered all over the shed.
I think that every couple has a secret fear that their better half will one day go bonkers.
Sometimes when I have my crazy insomnia, I will try to work out a game of Sudoku. I find that it occupies my brain in a minimal way - if I read a book, I will want to get to the end - and then I can just kiss sleep good-bye.
Of course, I'm too lazy and cheap to go out an buy a Sudoku book. Instead, I will go to websudoku and copy a game on a sheet of printer paper.
The other day, Peter found my Sudoku papers scattered on my bedside table and he came into the livingroom, thrust them at me and said in a voice that was trying to sound calm and soothing, but you could tell that there was an underlining panic riding just under the surface: "What is this?"
I told him it was Sudoku.
"Thank God, when I saw them, I thought - oh no, she's gone crazy."
I think that every couple has a secret fear that their better half will one day go bonkers.
Sometimes when I have my crazy insomnia, I will try to work out a game of Sudoku. I find that it occupies my brain in a minimal way - if I read a book, I will want to get to the end - and then I can just kiss sleep good-bye.
Of course, I'm too lazy and cheap to go out an buy a Sudoku book. Instead, I will go to websudoku and copy a game on a sheet of printer paper.
The other day, Peter found my Sudoku papers scattered on my bedside table and he came into the livingroom, thrust them at me and said in a voice that was trying to sound calm and soothing, but you could tell that there was an underlining panic riding just under the surface: "What is this?"
I told him it was Sudoku.
"Thank God, when I saw them, I thought - oh no, she's gone crazy."
Friday, December 01, 2006
Yet Another Way The Office is Morphing into Lost
Just like Lost, The Office is killing off characters one by one. First the tailies, and now this. I'm wondering when they're going to get their own doomsday button.
Monday, November 27, 2006
At Least I Don't Talk About Stuff I Know Nothing About
I teach a fiction writing workshop at the Continuing Ed. program in Westchester, and one of the assignments was to write down some of the dialogue from Thanksgiving dinner.
There was one point after dinner that Peter's sister asked his brother about the situation in North Korea. She didn't even know the difference between North and South Korea.
Hey, at least I only talk about the things I know and read up on.
Like Britney and Kevin's divorce.
There was one point after dinner that Peter's sister asked his brother about the situation in North Korea. She didn't even know the difference between North and South Korea.
Hey, at least I only talk about the things I know and read up on.
Like Britney and Kevin's divorce.
Monday, November 20, 2006
What She's Learned in Massachusetts
I'm going over my mom's house today because my sister's home from college, so I call her before I take off.
Me: I'll be there in forty minutes, okay?
Jenny: Cool beans!
I hang up the phone.
I call her again.
Me: Did you just say cool beans?
Jenny: oh...yeah.
Me: I'll be there in forty minutes, okay?
Jenny: Cool beans!
I hang up the phone.
I call her again.
Me: Did you just say cool beans?
Jenny: oh...yeah.
No More Lostage!
I ordered a Garmin Nuvi 360 last night because Peter and I have the worst sense of direction EVER. It is not unlikely for us to be 2 hours late because we took a wrong turn (or a multitude of wrong turns).
Last night I told Peter:
"I ordered that navigation system you wanted."
Peter (with a small sigh of relief):
"That means that there will be no more lostage."
That's right - we're not lost, we're experiencing lostage.
Last night I told Peter:
"I ordered that navigation system you wanted."
Peter (with a small sigh of relief):
"That means that there will be no more lostage."
That's right - we're not lost, we're experiencing lostage.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Another Don't Eat Meat Story
There was a report tonight on Nightline about McDonald's burgers and that each burger is made up of hundreds of different cows.
Yuck.
Peter comes in the room and says, "What? Another story that says don't eat meat?"
Yuck.
Peter comes in the room and says, "What? Another story that says don't eat meat?"
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Kids=Terrible Marrige?
Last Thursday, I went to a party and talk inevitably turned to kids because there was one woman there who was hugely pregnant. In fact, Thursday was her due date. My friend Beth has a two-year-old, so she was the "voice of experience."
I've never had a child, and my opinion is that labor is different things to different people.
According to my husband's friend's wife Katie:
"Have you ever had really bad cramps? Childbirth pains are like that."
According to my friend Amanda:
"I can't believe there are so many people on this planet...and they're all a product of THIS!"
Beth took me aside and asked me if we were trying. I told her that we were, but we're not stressing out about it. Basically, Peter and I have been together almost ten years now, and although we would love to welcome kids into the world, we are nervous about how it's going to affect our lives - especially since none (and I mean not one) of our breeder friends seems to be getting along with their spouses (although to my face they always tell me, "it's great, I mean, totally great").
"Well," she said. "My marriage is completely terrible right now."
I love people who overshare, mostly because I'm an oversharer myself - so I grilled her about her situation. It's the same thing I see in all of my other friends...children are stressful.
"I love my daughter," she said. "And I've never experienced the kind of love she has for me and the love I have for her and I would never say that I regret bringing her into the world, but my marriage is terrible right now. But just because it's tough doesn't mean that it's not worth doing."
That is basically the best advice I've ever gotten from a friend about parenthood. Most everyone who talks about it goes on and on about how wonderful everything is, automaton-like. They give me lines like, "It's never too early," "I wished I'd started earlier," "It's the best thing I've ever done." But at the same time, they won't sit next to their husbands at the dinner table.
That's what we've been struggling with. Peter and I have a great marriage and relationship and we're best friends. We know that having kids is going to change our relationship radically, but we still want to do it. Call us crazy.
I've never had a child, and my opinion is that labor is different things to different people.
According to my husband's friend's wife Katie:
"Have you ever had really bad cramps? Childbirth pains are like that."
According to my friend Amanda:
"I can't believe there are so many people on this planet...and they're all a product of THIS!"
Beth took me aside and asked me if we were trying. I told her that we were, but we're not stressing out about it. Basically, Peter and I have been together almost ten years now, and although we would love to welcome kids into the world, we are nervous about how it's going to affect our lives - especially since none (and I mean not one) of our breeder friends seems to be getting along with their spouses (although to my face they always tell me, "it's great, I mean, totally great").
"Well," she said. "My marriage is completely terrible right now."
I love people who overshare, mostly because I'm an oversharer myself - so I grilled her about her situation. It's the same thing I see in all of my other friends...children are stressful.
"I love my daughter," she said. "And I've never experienced the kind of love she has for me and the love I have for her and I would never say that I regret bringing her into the world, but my marriage is terrible right now. But just because it's tough doesn't mean that it's not worth doing."
That is basically the best advice I've ever gotten from a friend about parenthood. Most everyone who talks about it goes on and on about how wonderful everything is, automaton-like. They give me lines like, "It's never too early," "I wished I'd started earlier," "It's the best thing I've ever done." But at the same time, they won't sit next to their husbands at the dinner table.
That's what we've been struggling with. Peter and I have a great marriage and relationship and we're best friends. We know that having kids is going to change our relationship radically, but we still want to do it. Call us crazy.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Lexington Square Cafe in Mount Kisco
Peter and I have been trying to eat at home as much as possible lately - but we had an early dinner, so last night we decided to go out and get some appetizers and dessert.
Peter wanted to go to a tea lounge, but I couldn't find one in Westchester, so I looked for a cafe. I found a place via google-search called Lexington Square Cafe which is in town.
Normally we're wary of trying new places, especially in Westchester, because even places that get good reviews are pretty disappointing.
The main disappointment at this cafe, is that it's not a cafe. I view a cafe as a place that serves coffee and is a place you can hang out with your newspaper and get dessert. This place is a restaurant. A cafe's main trade should be beverages - and I think that restaurants should not be allowed to call themselves cafes.
The bottom line is, the Lexington Square Cafe, although not terrible, was disappointing. We ordered two drinks each (Peter's wine was good, my mixed drink sucked), the hummus (terrible - and the pita breads were caked in salt - not good) and the pumpkin ravioli (not bad). The dessert was good, it was a banana roulade. The thing is, that the bill came out to be $60, which is really too pricey for a hit and miss meal. So we won't be going back.
They played really terrible 80's music during our entire meal.
That was the last straw.
Peter wanted to go to a tea lounge, but I couldn't find one in Westchester, so I looked for a cafe. I found a place via google-search called Lexington Square Cafe which is in town.
Normally we're wary of trying new places, especially in Westchester, because even places that get good reviews are pretty disappointing.
The main disappointment at this cafe, is that it's not a cafe. I view a cafe as a place that serves coffee and is a place you can hang out with your newspaper and get dessert. This place is a restaurant. A cafe's main trade should be beverages - and I think that restaurants should not be allowed to call themselves cafes.
The bottom line is, the Lexington Square Cafe, although not terrible, was disappointing. We ordered two drinks each (Peter's wine was good, my mixed drink sucked), the hummus (terrible - and the pita breads were caked in salt - not good) and the pumpkin ravioli (not bad). The dessert was good, it was a banana roulade. The thing is, that the bill came out to be $60, which is really too pricey for a hit and miss meal. So we won't be going back.
They played really terrible 80's music during our entire meal.
That was the last straw.
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