SHUT UP kid who hit my car in the parking lot of your high school and didn't leave a goddamn note last Monday.
SHUT UP creepy episode of Medium with your pertinent hit-and-run plot.
SHUT UP $1000 deductible.
SHUT UP Geico with your adjuster appointments and rules about rental cars. Just... eh... SHUT UP.
SHUT UP big long line at Best Buy for only two goddamn ten dollar gift certificates. You have 10 cash registers. There are 100 people in line. You are closing soon. Why are only two people ringing up customers?
SHUT UP heart-poundy anxiety thing that keeps happening when I think about going to Boston for Christmas with the newish boyfriend because I'm afraid I might run into the old boyfriend.
SHUT UP nagging thoughts suggesting that maybe I *should* see the Ex for the first time in a year to have coffee, catch up and make peace or whatever.
SHUT UP heart-wrenchy thing that happens when I think about Ex's nephew turning 5 in two days.
SHUT UP confusing lack of organization and communication in an organization of professional communicators
SHUT UP pile of dirty dishes. I think I hate you most of all.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Grrr.. Arg.
Hi. Happy Thanksgiving. I'm in Lancaster, all is well.
On Monday, my car was hit in the student parking lot at a high school while I was inside shooting a portrait of a basketball player. When I came out a mere 24 MINUTES LATER, there was a big gash in the side of my car and no note. They left the front grill of their own car behind. I have a $1000 deductible. I hate the punkass high school kid who most likely did this, and I hope they choke on their Thanksgiving wishbone.
At least my pets haven't committed suicide like the guy at the end of "Good Night and Good Luck." Oh, sorry, have you not seen that movie yet? I'm a right little ray of sunshine today, no?
I'm tired. Joel and I got on the road late last night. We weren't thinking we'd get here until about 2 a.m. anyway, but then we got stuck in traffic for TWO HOURS because there was an enormous car accident that closed a six-lane highway in both directions on I-78. Then it started snowing, and playing car games began to lose their appeal.
Me: "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark."
Joel: "Huh?"
Me: "You know, the car game."
Joel: "Oh."
Me: "Your turn. You're B."
Joel: "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark and a banana."
Me: "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark, a banana, and chimichangas."
Joel: "I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, and.... [YAWN]... dairy products."
Me: "I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, and elephant poo."
Joel: "Elephant poo?"
Me: "We're never moving again. We're going to have to live here in my Toyota for the rest of our lives. Yes, elephant poo."
Joel: "What letter am I?"
Me: "You're F.
Joel: "Okay. I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, and a FUCKING TRAFFIC JAM."
Me: "I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, a fucking traffic jam and GET ME OUT OF HERE."
Joel: "Aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, a fucking traffic jam, get me out of here, and HELL, I WOULD IF I COULD."
Me: Oh, hey, wait... Are we moving? Is it.. Aw, damn. Oh. I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark, bananas, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, a fucking traffic jam, get me out of here, hell I would if I could and JUST 'CAUSE THE GUY IN FRONT OF US TURNED HIS CAR BACK ON DOESN"T MEAN DICK.
We rolled into East Bumblefuck around dawn. For a minute there, I thought I might have to take my tripod out of the trunk, throw my coat over it and live in a little tent on the side of the highway. The house is warm and smells yummy and the friends will be here soon. Hmmm, happy... Well, happier.
On Monday, my car was hit in the student parking lot at a high school while I was inside shooting a portrait of a basketball player. When I came out a mere 24 MINUTES LATER, there was a big gash in the side of my car and no note. They left the front grill of their own car behind. I have a $1000 deductible. I hate the punkass high school kid who most likely did this, and I hope they choke on their Thanksgiving wishbone.
At least my pets haven't committed suicide like the guy at the end of "Good Night and Good Luck." Oh, sorry, have you not seen that movie yet? I'm a right little ray of sunshine today, no?
I'm tired. Joel and I got on the road late last night. We weren't thinking we'd get here until about 2 a.m. anyway, but then we got stuck in traffic for TWO HOURS because there was an enormous car accident that closed a six-lane highway in both directions on I-78. Then it started snowing, and playing car games began to lose their appeal.
Me: "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark."
Joel: "Huh?"
Me: "You know, the car game."
Joel: "Oh."
Me: "Your turn. You're B."
Joel: "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark and a banana."
Me: "I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark, a banana, and chimichangas."
Joel: "I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, and.... [YAWN]... dairy products."
Me: "I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, and elephant poo."
Joel: "Elephant poo?"
Me: "We're never moving again. We're going to have to live here in my Toyota for the rest of our lives. Yes, elephant poo."
Joel: "What letter am I?"
Me: "You're F.
Joel: "Okay. I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, and a FUCKING TRAFFIC JAM."
Me: "I'm bringing an aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, a fucking traffic jam and GET ME OUT OF HERE."
Joel: "Aardvark, banana, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, a fucking traffic jam, get me out of here, and HELL, I WOULD IF I COULD."
Me: Oh, hey, wait... Are we moving? Is it.. Aw, damn. Oh. I'm going on a picnic and I'm bringing an aardvark, bananas, chimichangas, dairy products, elephant poo, a fucking traffic jam, get me out of here, hell I would if I could and JUST 'CAUSE THE GUY IN FRONT OF US TURNED HIS CAR BACK ON DOESN"T MEAN DICK.
We rolled into East Bumblefuck around dawn. For a minute there, I thought I might have to take my tripod out of the trunk, throw my coat over it and live in a little tent on the side of the highway. The house is warm and smells yummy and the friends will be here soon. Hmmm, happy... Well, happier.
Monday, November 21, 2005
The Cat and Gas
My mom tells a story about something that happened when my older sister was probably about eight or nine months old. She and my dad were new parents, in love with their baby daughter and each other, and they decided to go for a walk in the freshly fallen snow. They pulled her along in a tiny sled behind them, on one of those perfect, silent winter nights. They didn't notice it when she rolled off. She didn't make a sound. They walked probably about 100 feet before they realized she wasn't on the sled.
Amanda was lying in the middle of the road, happy as can be. My mom tells this story now and is able to laugh about it, but at the time, they just about died of heart failure. A car could have easily driven up the alley, she could have fallen face first and suffocated in the snow. She was fine. They were heart-poundingly aware of how quickly disaster strikes. (Amanda is now a successful attorney with an MBA, a woman of the world, a wife and lover of Diet Coke.)
But I had my own heart-pounding experience on Friday. I worked until about 6 p.m. I actually got out of the office ten minutes early. I was in a rush to get home to let Bella out before starting to drive to a town 45 minutes away where I had dinner plans. I got home around 6:45 p.m. As I opened the door, I was assault by the smell of cooking gas.
Bella met me at the door in her usual happy, bouncy way, with a squeaky toy in her mouth. I didn't immediately see Fred, which scared the shit out of me. Panicked, I ran into the kitchen to find the gas turned all the way up on one of the burners. The entire apartment reeked of it. At first I thought it was my fault. Did I turn on a burner to boil the kettle for oatmeal this morning and forget to light it? Except... I was gone for about 9 hours. It's cold now, all the windows were closed. If *I* had forgotten to turn it off... well, I don't want to even THINK about it. I think Fred must have jumped off the counter and accidentally turned the knob with his foot.
Fred was fine, by the way,happily licking his nether regions on the bathroom rug with one leg fully extending toward the sky like a ballerina. I herded both pets into my bedroom- the door had been closed and it barely smelled of gas- then ran around throwing open windows and turning on the exhaust fan over the stove.
They were fine. I'm so glad I came right home. I work next to the Gigundo Mall of Temptation now; I find myself in there for one thing or another every other day now. I very easily could have gone Christmas shopping until 9:30 p.m. The thought of coming home and finding them...ACK. I can't even type it. When I think of the risk of fire... ACK. ACK!! Would it surprise you to learn that I had a lot of nightmares this weekend?
I wonder, though, how often we brush right past disaster without knowing it. I'm not even referring to the times when we drive past a bad car accident and think, "If I left a minute earlier..." Or even these heart-pounding scenarios like my sister rolling off the sled, and the cat and the gas. I mean, how often do we just pass right by impending disaster, obliviously passing through just before the proverbial anvil falls out of the sky?
The knobs for the stove now live on top of the refrigerator; ironically, next to the dog and cat treat jars. Fred will occasionally get up there, but he only ever kicks down the Pupperoni. He never kicks his own treats down. If somehow the knobs get off the top of the fridge and back on the stove, my pets had better cook me a damn souffle.
Amanda was lying in the middle of the road, happy as can be. My mom tells this story now and is able to laugh about it, but at the time, they just about died of heart failure. A car could have easily driven up the alley, she could have fallen face first and suffocated in the snow. She was fine. They were heart-poundingly aware of how quickly disaster strikes. (Amanda is now a successful attorney with an MBA, a woman of the world, a wife and lover of Diet Coke.)
But I had my own heart-pounding experience on Friday. I worked until about 6 p.m. I actually got out of the office ten minutes early. I was in a rush to get home to let Bella out before starting to drive to a town 45 minutes away where I had dinner plans. I got home around 6:45 p.m. As I opened the door, I was assault by the smell of cooking gas.
Bella met me at the door in her usual happy, bouncy way, with a squeaky toy in her mouth. I didn't immediately see Fred, which scared the shit out of me. Panicked, I ran into the kitchen to find the gas turned all the way up on one of the burners. The entire apartment reeked of it. At first I thought it was my fault. Did I turn on a burner to boil the kettle for oatmeal this morning and forget to light it? Except... I was gone for about 9 hours. It's cold now, all the windows were closed. If *I* had forgotten to turn it off... well, I don't want to even THINK about it. I think Fred must have jumped off the counter and accidentally turned the knob with his foot.
Fred was fine, by the way,happily licking his nether regions on the bathroom rug with one leg fully extending toward the sky like a ballerina. I herded both pets into my bedroom- the door had been closed and it barely smelled of gas- then ran around throwing open windows and turning on the exhaust fan over the stove.
They were fine. I'm so glad I came right home. I work next to the Gigundo Mall of Temptation now; I find myself in there for one thing or another every other day now. I very easily could have gone Christmas shopping until 9:30 p.m. The thought of coming home and finding them...ACK. I can't even type it. When I think of the risk of fire... ACK. ACK!! Would it surprise you to learn that I had a lot of nightmares this weekend?
I wonder, though, how often we brush right past disaster without knowing it. I'm not even referring to the times when we drive past a bad car accident and think, "If I left a minute earlier..." Or even these heart-pounding scenarios like my sister rolling off the sled, and the cat and the gas. I mean, how often do we just pass right by impending disaster, obliviously passing through just before the proverbial anvil falls out of the sky?
The knobs for the stove now live on top of the refrigerator; ironically, next to the dog and cat treat jars. Fred will occasionally get up there, but he only ever kicks down the Pupperoni. He never kicks his own treats down. If somehow the knobs get off the top of the fridge and back on the stove, my pets had better cook me a damn souffle.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Have cake! Eat it, too!
Okay, the basic web slide show of Kelly and Michael's wedding is up and running.
Chunky Photojournalist Barbie wants you to know, again, that it is a very bride/couple-centric slide show and mostly features pictures that interest Idiosyncratic Life readers. Just sayin'.
Oh, and there are a number of HI-larious photos that are so funny I promise you'll laugh so hard milk comes out of your nose. Even if you're not drinking milk at the time, which is really saying something. They are, however, unsuitable for Internet viewing, so you'll have to come over next Thursday. :)
Chunky Photojournalist Barbie wants you to know, again, that it is a very bride/couple-centric slide show and mostly features pictures that interest Idiosyncratic Life readers. Just sayin'.
Oh, and there are a number of HI-larious photos that are so funny I promise you'll laugh so hard milk comes out of your nose. Even if you're not drinking milk at the time, which is really saying something. They are, however, unsuitable for Internet viewing, so you'll have to come over next Thursday. :)
Just a few to hold you over...
Okay, so the web slide show from Kelly and Michael's wedding will up really, really soon. Like, tomorrow. Probably.
I feel compelled to say, however, that unlike the other recent slide shows, I wasn't Kelly's real wedding photographer. I mostly shot photos of the people who were around me throughout the day, so there are a ton of the bride and my sister (the other attendant), a handful of my parents doing the chicken dance, and absolutely none of the ceremony or formal portrait session. Just so you know.
If you want to see the fancy-schmancy slide show with music and rehearsal dinner photos, you have to come hang out and eat pie after Thanksgiving. Same Bat Time, same Bat Channel as every other year. And I'm making the pie now, so it won't be all weird and grey and spicy (I figured out why that was happening, though. It was Larry's fault. No, really. It was.)
Oh, and you have to do a special extra step to leave comments now. Have fun with that. :)
I feel compelled to say, however, that unlike the other recent slide shows, I wasn't Kelly's real wedding photographer. I mostly shot photos of the people who were around me throughout the day, so there are a ton of the bride and my sister (the other attendant), a handful of my parents doing the chicken dance, and absolutely none of the ceremony or formal portrait session. Just so you know.
If you want to see the fancy-schmancy slide show with music and rehearsal dinner photos, you have to come hang out and eat pie after Thanksgiving. Same Bat Time, same Bat Channel as every other year. And I'm making the pie now, so it won't be all weird and grey and spicy (I figured out why that was happening, though. It was Larry's fault. No, really. It was.)
Oh, and you have to do a special extra step to leave comments now. Have fun with that. :)
Party Like You're in Junior High!
We have been doing this parody of junior high schoolish "touch dancing" for more than a decade. I know we did it at Gwen's Sweet 16 party...
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Closure
"Yesterday brought the beginning and tomorrow brings the end, and somewhere in the middle we became the best of friends. I may be pretty, you may grow tall, but we don't have to change at all."
Except when we do.
Shake it off, walk it out.
Except when we do.
Shake it off, walk it out.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Show and Tell
So, Joel met the parents over the weekend. It went about as well as could be hoped for. Conversation flowed. Cannolis were eaten. The "Oh My God, You Are So Much Like My Dad that I Should Just Slap Myself Upside the Head and Call Myself Electra" Factor was in full effect.
But I feel a lot better about Thanksgiving. The Boyfriend is doing a good job trying to remember which friend is which before he meets the remaining cast of characters.
Him: Gwen and Kelly are the only ones I know for sure. Kelly just married Mike.
Me: Umm... Yes, but everyone calls him Michael. He's not a "Mike."
Him: Michael. Okay. Not Mike. Wow. (looking at a photo) How tall is Kelly?
Me: My height, more or less.
Him: So Michael is really tall.
Me: Yup. (pointing to a new picture.) This is...?
Him: Your sister. Amanda.
Me: Nope. My sister is the one who looks nothing like me.
Him: Oh.
Me: It's okay. It's Alissa. She's the one whose house I stay at all the time outside Philly, who watched Bella for me when I was working on the murder investigation story in Delaware?
Him: Got it. You know, you and your sister have the face shape, it's just that your coloring is different.
Me: True. And we have frighteningly similar mannerisms. It's a little scary when we both get going. It's like Sisters in Stereo. You'll see. And this is....?
Him: It's Heather, but I only know that by process of elimination.
Me: Right. She's the teacher. And she's married to?
Him: I have no idea.
Me: Don't worry about it.
Him: I just know that Kelly is married to the really tall guy.
Me: Um... Oh boy.
Let's just say that there are more than a few really tall guys hanging around lately.
And I don't even know where to begin to try to describe my grandmother's eccentric psuedo adopted son/best friend friend Larry. Sigh... Anyone care for a banana? The mummers are still mumming.
:)
But I feel a lot better about Thanksgiving. The Boyfriend is doing a good job trying to remember which friend is which before he meets the remaining cast of characters.
Him: Gwen and Kelly are the only ones I know for sure. Kelly just married Mike.
Me: Umm... Yes, but everyone calls him Michael. He's not a "Mike."
Him: Michael. Okay. Not Mike. Wow. (looking at a photo) How tall is Kelly?
Me: My height, more or less.
Him: So Michael is really tall.
Me: Yup. (pointing to a new picture.) This is...?
Him: Your sister. Amanda.
Me: Nope. My sister is the one who looks nothing like me.
Him: Oh.
Me: It's okay. It's Alissa. She's the one whose house I stay at all the time outside Philly, who watched Bella for me when I was working on the murder investigation story in Delaware?
Him: Got it. You know, you and your sister have the face shape, it's just that your coloring is different.
Me: True. And we have frighteningly similar mannerisms. It's a little scary when we both get going. It's like Sisters in Stereo. You'll see. And this is....?
Him: It's Heather, but I only know that by process of elimination.
Me: Right. She's the teacher. And she's married to?
Him: I have no idea.
Me: Don't worry about it.
Him: I just know that Kelly is married to the really tall guy.
Me: Um... Oh boy.
Let's just say that there are more than a few really tall guys hanging around lately.
And I don't even know where to begin to try to describe my grandmother's eccentric psuedo adopted son/best friend friend Larry. Sigh... Anyone care for a banana? The mummers are still mumming.
:)
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Gorgeous Girl
Well, they did it! Whatever you want to call it- Got hitched, tied the knot, threw half of a hairy banana out the window of a moving car.... This is, um, a brand new expression Kelly and I coined ourselves on the way to the salon. I'm STILL washing out the bridesmaid hairspray. :)
The full slide show (everything except the ceremony and formal portraits, which I did not shoot) will be available soon.
The full slide show (everything except the ceremony and formal portraits, which I did not shoot) will be available soon.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Unemployed!!! in CLEVE-LAND!**
So I'm in an airport in Cleveland. I am on my way to Kelly and Michael's wedding, and may I just say that there is a man here who looks just like Michael? I mean, REALLY looks just like Michael?
It's creepy. I mean, people are flying in from all over for this wedding, so the potential for one of Michael's relatives to be in an airport in Ohio is pretty high, you know? He's standing the same way and every time I look up I do a double-take. I'm not shy; I make friends in the check-out line at the grocery store, but I'm not in the mood to scare this man. Maybe he'll be seated at table 10 or something tomorrow night. Maybe I should stop blogging and start finishing my maid of honor speech. Maybe I should practice my speech on Michael's twin.
"Hi! You look just this guy my best friend is marrying tomorrow? If I said this at your wedding reception, would you like it?" 'Cause THAT's not creepy. Not at all.
** That's a little play on words for the Boyfriend, whom I made watch the Princess Bride for the first time two weeks ago.***
He needs an affectionate little pun right now because I was kind of bitchy this morning when we were trying to get out the door so he could drive me to the airport. In my defense, I- Well... I- I am not a morning person and I couldn't find my DayQuil Sinus pills, which was really frustrating to me, because I *just* had them in my hand mere moments prior, and he was only trying to tell me that I had the liquid form of DayQuil right there in my bag and help me think of places were the pills could be and I don't seem that sick to him- because of the DayQuil, you see?- and it wasn't LOGICAL but in my morning state I felt certain that if I didn't find the DayQuil SINUS as opposed to DayQuil REGULAR that my face would be impacted with goo from the flying and Kelly's wedding would be RUINED. RUINED. RUINED. and it would be all my fault, and he was only trying to be helpful AND he was driving my ungrateful, dragging ass to LaGuardia during rush hour AND I turned the radio off when he was trying to listen to the traffic report AND THEN- being super-logical, I felt the need to be defensive about my irrational need for the DayQuil Sinus pills AND ALL THE WHILE he was driving a load of MY wet laundry back to Queens because my neighbor accidentally spilled detergent all over my CLEAN, DRY LAUNDRY FOR THE TRIP late last night and I didn't have time to dry it and otherwise it would have just grown mold until my return on Sunday. Maybe someday Kelly will tell you all about my psychedelic freak-out when I lost my sunglasses RIGHT before we were supposed to leave for the airport for my trip to Prague. That was "fun." But she still loves me enough to make me her maid of honor... Right? See? And I just apologized in front of the whole Internet, telling them I was wrong AND sorry. That counts for something, no?
I'm a happy, rational person who thinks happy, rational thoughts. I'm a happy, rational person who thinks happy, rational thoughts. (Offer only good after 11 a.m., apparently.)
It's creepy. I mean, people are flying in from all over for this wedding, so the potential for one of Michael's relatives to be in an airport in Ohio is pretty high, you know? He's standing the same way and every time I look up I do a double-take. I'm not shy; I make friends in the check-out line at the grocery store, but I'm not in the mood to scare this man. Maybe he'll be seated at table 10 or something tomorrow night. Maybe I should stop blogging and start finishing my maid of honor speech. Maybe I should practice my speech on Michael's twin.
"Hi! You look just this guy my best friend is marrying tomorrow? If I said this at your wedding reception, would you like it?" 'Cause THAT's not creepy. Not at all.
** That's a little play on words for the Boyfriend, whom I made watch the Princess Bride for the first time two weeks ago.***
He needs an affectionate little pun right now because I was kind of bitchy this morning when we were trying to get out the door so he could drive me to the airport. In my defense, I- Well... I- I am not a morning person and I couldn't find my DayQuil Sinus pills, which was really frustrating to me, because I *just* had them in my hand mere moments prior, and he was only trying to tell me that I had the liquid form of DayQuil right there in my bag and help me think of places were the pills could be and I don't seem that sick to him- because of the DayQuil, you see?- and it wasn't LOGICAL but in my morning state I felt certain that if I didn't find the DayQuil SINUS as opposed to DayQuil REGULAR that my face would be impacted with goo from the flying and Kelly's wedding would be RUINED. RUINED. RUINED. and it would be all my fault, and he was only trying to be helpful AND he was driving my ungrateful, dragging ass to LaGuardia during rush hour AND I turned the radio off when he was trying to listen to the traffic report AND THEN- being super-logical, I felt the need to be defensive about my irrational need for the DayQuil Sinus pills AND ALL THE WHILE he was driving a load of MY wet laundry back to Queens because my neighbor accidentally spilled detergent all over my CLEAN, DRY LAUNDRY FOR THE TRIP late last night and I didn't have time to dry it and otherwise it would have just grown mold until my return on Sunday. Maybe someday Kelly will tell you all about my psychedelic freak-out when I lost my sunglasses RIGHT before we were supposed to leave for the airport for my trip to Prague. That was "fun." But she still loves me enough to make me her maid of honor... Right? See? And I just apologized in front of the whole Internet, telling them I was wrong AND sorry. That counts for something, no?
I'm a happy, rational person who thinks happy, rational thoughts. I'm a happy, rational person who thinks happy, rational thoughts. (Offer only good after 11 a.m., apparently.)
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
The Costume and the Boyfriend
You can't really see my wings, but I didn't wear them for long. The party was kind of crowded, and I kept smacking into people.
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