Category Archives: nonsense

Waiting to Remember What it is I Forgot….

I’m sitting here at work, counting down to 5:00 when I can leave, but all I can think about is what in the world I have forgotten. It HAS to be something, because I am just WAY to fritzy…

After work, I’m hitching a ride with a couple co-workers down to LB’s neck of the woods, from where we’ll get on a plane and fly to DC. I’ve also got another one of my good ol’ events happening tomorrow (by the way, my walk last week kicked ass raising over $105K and the little golf tournament that could didn’t do too shabby either) and there’s a decent chance that I didn’t do something for that….but I don’t think that’s it. And if it is? It’s not something major. The contract is good, the venue is set, the shirts are there, the people will come. Everything else can be fixed.

I’m also going to be away from my Thomàs until next Sunday. This, of course, devastates me. I could get all into the psychology of leaving him and relate it to adoption and determine that I have some deep seeded intense issues with leaving anyone and anything, but I’m not sure that’s it. I might just be a crazy cat person.

Speaking of which, have you seen my favorite video of all time???

But I digress…..

Thomàs.

I put on a brave face, but was nice and misty eyed when I left the house….apologizing to him for leaving, telling him I love him, all that jazz. I am pretty sure he could not care less. His Auntie will come over and snuggle and watch trashy reality tv with him and he’ll be happy as a clam (though I do think he’ll miss getting to sleep in my bed with me – let me have this one!)

BUT – he is well taken care of, I cleaned his litter box, took out the trash, made sure he wouldn’t run out of food, had all of his toys out for him. He’ll be fine.

The obvious “oops” is that I’ve forgotten something crucial to the trip. My bags are packed and in my trunk and there’s no going back….so God willing I’ve got business casual, business suit, casual clothing for every climate, sporty clothing, something to sleep in, something to go out at night in, and – of course – the perfect shoes for every possible combination.

Oh! And underwear!

And bras.

And whatever else I definitely forgot.

I had the added pressure of bringing down some of LB’s clothes as well. Two pairs of shoes a couple dress shirts – WAIT! Did I remember all the stuff on hangars that’s to go in his garment bag????….yes, I did, we’re okay, continue – a few pairs of underwear, two pairs of sock, two plain white tees, and his Abraham Lincoln shirt of course. (It’s topical).

It’s pretty safe to say that clothing/accessories is probably the category I was most likely to screw up.

Mind you, I did almost leave my house without a single toiletry. The good news is that toiletries can be semi easily replaced and LB has a fair amount, so I should be okay.

I also need to bring work stuff, especially since half the trip is heavy on the “work.”

Then there’s electronics. How many different kinds of “chargers” do I need?

OH! My camera battery! Now THAT I definitely would have forgotten had it not been for this post….pardon me while I grab the battery from it’s charger. (And yes, that was not a ruse, I actually stopped and got my battery just now). That would have been a real bad situation if I tried to take pictures with a camera that has no juice!

So it’s camera, computer, cell phone, other cell phone, charging the Kindle so I don’t need the charger….also got a couple real books – one for me, one for LB….did forget that deck of cards though…but LB has one at his place….GPS charger…..

Now that I think about it, I could have definitely forgotten a charger in there somewhere as well….

So, this whole lot of nothin’ post at least ensured that I can take pictures of my trip!

And with that, I’m off….perhaps I’ll post from the road, God/Wifi-willing! Wish me luck as I organize 550 volunteers on the DC metro/meet LB’s Dad/visit LB’s Mom/and volunteer at a 1,600 participant event!

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Thomàs Tuesday: Trusting Daddy

Thomàs is “our” cat. But until quite recently, he pretty much “lived” with me. Yes, LB would be up here on the weekends and would play with him and be the fun “parent,” but I was the one that came home every day at the same time, consistently fed him meals, and wasn’t allowed to pee without him.

I went down to LB’s for the long weekend, and didn’t want to leave Thomàs, so I loaded him in the car and we drove 90 miles, him curled up on my lap the whole time. (Almost). He adjusted to Daddy’s house very well, got used to a new litter box, and didn’t ruin anything.

Success!

Yesterday, of course, I caught LB dropping HEAPING amounts of soap suds on Thomàs leaving him a sopping wet mess (but it was so funny!) and then later trying to feed him beer. I mean, I know he’s not going to give a stupid cat enough beer to get drunk (mostly because LB wouldn’t want to waste the beer, haha) but come on! Let’s not teach him to try to drink from our drinks, okay?

Next weekend, I’ll be returning to LB’s place, so I did something that makes me….nervous.

I left my baby with LB! It’s only three nights – and how much damage can a little soap and beer do?? Right????

But here I am, at home, and it just seems so darned empty again! We got Thomàs because (a) we really wanted a pet, (b) we’re not planning on having a human baby right away and I think LB needs something to dote on, and (c) because I’m alone a lot, and I don’t love it.

So when I walked in the door, I instinctively put my foot by the door to keep Thomàs from trying to greet me outside on the porch only to realize that he wasn’t there mewing his nightly “welcome home.”

I got online and said to LB, “Our house is so empty! I miss you both already!!”

Now, I’m not a gushy “miss you, love you” type of gal. But the closer it gets to LB living up here, it almost gets harder that he’s not here. So close, yet so far away. And now no kitty for snuggles??? I mean, what’s a girl to do???

Thankfully, I quickly (very delayed) got a sweet (confusing?) response from LB: “For sure”

Really? For sure what? The house is “for sure” empty? Or I obviously would miss you both? Were you even trying to say that to me or did some wires get crossed???

The most probable answer: That kid is so distracted watching the NBA finals he has no idea what he’s saying right now, haha!

So I’ll enjoy this time – remind myself what a little shit that cat can be sometimes – and eat dinner without him trying to share/snuggle/play/get his head scratched. That baby LOVES his attention. I just have to trust his Daddy to give it to him…and go easy on the brews….

How we should be snuggling right about now…

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Filed under life is good, life with long board, nonsense, worth a thousand words

Hints to Friends on F@cebook

Dear Hipster,

I became your friend on FB because we are, you know, friends. We’ve known each other for over a decade, so I like keeping up with you. However, I am really close to deleting you because all you ever do is post about what an important poet you are. I do not need to go to every reading you have. I do not need to hear you brag incessantly about your little book that’s coming out. About how you found out that your poem is a ringtone. I’m happy for you. I am. It’s just a LOT easier to be happy for you when you’re not clearly so damn happy for yourself.

Also, if you ever called.

Miss you, friend!

***

Dear Friend of Little Sis,

PLEASE stop posting dramatic/vague song lyrics when referencing your roller coaster romance with your fiance/daughter’s father/ex. I’m sorry if you and he are going through (fill in the blank as insinuated by the lyrics). I completely understand your need to not share these intimate details with the world. However, maybe you shouldn’t post something on F@cebook that’s just going to make everyone ask questions you don’t want to answer….

I’m just sayin’.

***

Dear World Traveler,

I get it. You live in France.

You freelance and earn money here and there (though we all know Mommy and Daddy keep sending you checks) and are living the American (French?) dream. But you talk about France SO MUCH, that a part of me thinks you might just be living in your hometown in Central California and not letting us know you came home….

And if you are living there still, please talk about cheese and independent films and the Eiffel tower a little less. Your experience does not need to be pure stereotype in order for us to be entertained by it.

Au revior!

***

Dear Insta-Updater,

I say this from a place of love.

I want to let you in on a little secret:

Even if you don’t update an accomplishment immediately on F@cebook….it still happened. You don’t have to make it your status to make it “real.”

Now I know that’s your style, and that’s how you are. That’s fine, I suppose. I’ll just block your updates if I don’t want to see them. But when our friends boyfriend flew here from overseas to surprise her for a visit, your first response probably shouldn’t be, “Oh my gosh, really?? Why didn’t you post that on F@cebook?!?!?!?”

My guess? She was actually enjoying her time with her boyfriend rather than telling all her acquaintances about it. Living life can be pretty cool. I think you’d really like it.

Let go. The world will still be there when you log off 🙂

***

Dear Chris,

STOP POSTING “WITTY” QUOTES AS THOUGH YOU CAME UP WITH THEM, WHEN THEY’RE DEFINITELY FAMOUS QUOTES.

If you wanna use it, that’s fine. But give credit where credit is due.

***

Everyone,

Please do not update your relationship status the moment you start dating someone. Heck, I’m a big fan of not updating it at all when you’re dating someone. LB and I didn’t even have the discussion about becoming FB official until after he put a ring on it.

I have seen WAY too many people have to awkwardly change their status post breakup. One whose status literally went from “single” to “in a relationship” and right back within about an hour. Save yourself the grief.

And it’s ugly. You’d be dealing with enough without having to share it publicly.

And really, if you’re anything like me, there will be enough pictures of the two of you filling each others albums this his ex, your ex, whomever will definitely know that you’re together, even if your pages aren’t linked together signaling your love.

***

Dear Almost Brother-in-law,

You know you don’t have to post something political/controversial every day right? I really want to like you. You’re going to be my brother! But it would be a LOT easier to ignore our…..differences…….if you didn’t like to them on a daily basis.

And let’s be real. You already got kicked off FB once for some of your less than tolerant postings. Let’s not go for two okay?

Peace.

***

I think that’s it for now!

And now that I’ve given fair warning, I’ll wait a few days before sending out the Ninja. Any additions?

(PS Some of these read a little bitter. And I’m not. I swear :))

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Adoption Free Friday: The 11th Hour

Okay, if I was posting this in my normal time zone, it would only be the 9th hour, but since I’m in Kansas for 24 hours – we’re on the 11th!

Since I’ve been up since 4am, I’m not particularly verbose either!

Enough numbers in this post for you?

So here’s a funny little story from my travels before I go to bed:

My co-worker and I arrived at the airport and were in a hurry to get to our hotel, freshen up, and get to our first event. We went over to the D0llar rental car stand and waited patiently for our turn. When it finally got there (how long does it take to check out a car? I swear!) we went through all the formalities – confirming our kind, price, and the ever present pitch to take them up on the weekend deal. “I can put you in a F0rd Edge for just $20 more a day!” I politely and patiently declined, saying we were only here for 24 hours, we’d be fine in the full size I’d reserved.

Which of our full coverage insurance packages would you like?

None, thank you.

GPS?

Brought my own.

Buy the full tank of gas?

Only driving a few miles.

In other words, “No, I will not take you up on any of the options that may enhance your commission for the day.”

We finally got out of there and started walking to the lot. Out of curiosity, I glanced down at the keys to see what kind of wheels we’d be rolling in for the next 24 hours.

A picture’s worth a thousand words?

Believe me, my co-worker and I have said (laughed, cursed, exclaimed) far more than 1000 words as we cruise around in our 2010 Mercury Grand Marquis.

Lesson o’ the day: Don’t piss off the guy that’s choosing how you roll.

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Filed under adoption free friday, nonsense, short and sweet, sometimes I AM working, things that make you go wow, worth a thousand words

Adoption Free Friday: I NEVER Thought I’d Say This

Well, I was originally going to write something light. Then I got pissed off and was going to forgo adoption free Friday and do a bit of venting, especially since I didn’t write anything adoption related this week anyway. Then I realized I was TOO pissed off to write what I wanted to write, so here we are, back at the not so serious.

I’ll see how I feel after the steam settles….

Anyway, back to what I NEVER thought Id say:

 

I miss having a washing machine.

Yes, I who hadn’t done a load of laundry until I was 27 and living in my second apartment, miss having a washing machine. I, who made a deal with my Mom when I was 17 that she would do my laundry until I got married. I, who thought it would be a pretty significant accomplishment to somehow live a life in which I had never done a load of laundry by myself….I MISS having a washing machine.

As I pulled towel after towel out of the backseat of my car last night, I groaned remembering the days when I had a washing machine just steps away from my bedroom door. At this point, I’d even be happy with a shared washer/dryer in an apartment complex laundry room. But no, LB and I have a laundry room that sits empty with the hook-ups staring at us as though begging to be used.

Until that day, I drive the short mile or so to my parents’ house, all of our laundry in tow. I try to do the laundry on my own once I get there, but Mom constantly tells me I’m doing it wrong. I’m putting too many clothes in the washer. I’m not separating correctly. It would just be easier if I let her do it.

This used to be the stuff my dreams were made of! I used to happily drop my laundry off with Mom and pick it up the next day, as though mystical laundry elves turned my pile of wrinkly clothes into delicious smelling, beautifully folded items ready to be worn. Hangers appeared magically and

But now I just want to do my own laundry! I don’t want my Mom to handle LB’s underwear! (Or mine?) “I can fold my own laundry, provide my own hangers – I’m a big girl,” I want to pout to her. ..which I realize defeats the purpose.

We could start going to the Laundromat, but Mom will surely get suspicious when her services are no longer needed; suspicious, and probably offended. It would be a personal affront, and she would not like it. So that’s how I find myself hanging out at Mom and Dad’s being criticized over the cardinal sins of laundry….

It’s also how I find myself extremely motivated to find a nice washer/dryer combo on craigslist for a low, low price. 🙂

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Adoption Free Friday: A Tale of Two Exes

First – a little pat on the back to myself if you don’t mind. I’d like to point out that with this post, I have successfully posted every single day this week!! (It’s happening!!! I’m getting back in the habit of this!!)

Okay, okay, I realize it’s the end of the day, so I’m pushing it, but I just haven’t gotten around to actually posting it until now!

Moving on…

Yesterday, I went to lunch with four of my girls from work. We had just come out of a beastly meeting and needed to get the heck out of the office for a few minutes. We abandoned our normal table in the kitchen and our Lean Cuisines and treated ourselves to paninis instead.

As we were waiting for our food to be delivered, I heard a distinct “TG!” over our frustrated chatter. I turned to see my old neighbor (Jack for those of you that may remember from some of my older posts) standing there! I haven’t seen him in probably a year and a half or so, but we were pretty close when we lived next door, so I was really glad to randomly bump into him. For those that don’t recall….Jack and I had what might be known as a “friends with benefits” type situation. It was brief, and it didn’t end poorly, just fizzled away as those things sometimes do. So there certainly aren’t hard feelings of any sort.

And yet…..it was INCREDIBLY FREAKING WEIRD when he started talking about how I was getting married. I don’t know WHY it was so weird. We were still friends when I started dating Long Board. The two of them have met each other. He’s got the same girlfriend that he had when we both moved out of the apartment, and I knew her as well. But when he said to me, “I heard you got engaged! Congratulations! That’s really awesome!” I couldn’t help but go, “Huh???”

I mean, if the shoe was on the other foot, I would have probably said the same thing to him. It’s not like I would ever in a million years think that there were feelings in any direction there. So I don’t know why it tripped me out a little. Maybe I’m just weird. Or maybe someone else can make me feel better by having been weirded out by this too. J

Okay, so Jack isn’t really an ex…and I definitely billed these as “ex” stories. How about this one?

Long Board has an ex that is…..not my biggest fan. Nor am I hers. I’ve mentioned her before in the wonderful wedding debacle. She may or may not be the reason that we instituted a “no exes” rule for the wedding. Really, the rule isn’t necessary. There’s no way in hell I’m inviting any of my exes and LB pretty much feels the same. But this one particular ex is in the same friend group with LB from college. And they all invited each other to everything. Which I suppose is why she thought it was necessary to start emailing people asking them what they think she should do ABOUT OUR WEDDING.

As in, “Should I go to LB and TG’s wedding or should I just decline?”

Uh, listen darling. Don’t waste too much time pondering this one. I’ll go ahead and make that decision for you. You’ve disrespected me quite enough for one lifetime, thank you. Don’t think I need to go and give you that chance on my wedding day.

(Though I will admit, that there’s a tiny part of me that wants to be a brat and say, “Sure! Come on! Watch LB get married to me!” J)

Look, if LB and his ex were on great terms and she wasn’t a total beyotch to me on a regular basis, I wouldn’t care. I really wouldn’t. He’s got another ex-girlfriend that could totally come if he wanted. But every time I think I should just give this one another chance, she does something irritating. Like the last time I saw her when she said, “Oh LB, thanks so much for your email. It meant a lot.” He said, “huh?” She said, “You know, the email you sent me last week. It was really great. So thank you.” LB: “What are you talking about?” “Um, the email about the bicycling….”

Ooooohhhhhh, you were trying to make a big deal about that time he recommended a bike route for the class trip you’re organizing? The one that you sent to about 10 cyclists that you know? The email that I completely know about but that you’d like to get me to believe was something private and personal? You’re just tacky.

Anyway – my lesson for the week is that ex-type situations can seem extra weird once you’re engaged! But I sure as heck am happy that I’ll never put another person in that “ex” category again!!

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The Belch Heard Round the World

I’ve been working on a few drafts of posts, but every time I consider finishing one and publishing it, I think, “Nah, I’m not ready for another serious post….” My last post has exhausted me a little bit. Some forum reading has exhausted me a little bit. I’m emotionally tired. I notice these signs as symptoms of nomorebloggingitis.

So I need to lighten things up.

Enjoy.

I was sitting at my desk, furiously typing, wishing that I could leave the office at 5:30 like most everyone else that I work with. However, I’m in the “Stay Late” department. Not because we’re on any kind of late shift, but because our department, more or less, carries the company that we work for. We bring in all the money, therefore carry a pretty sizable portion of the stress and pressure.

It was one of “those” nights, where my colleagues and I all heaved heavy sighs, halfway hoping that the next sigh would trigger someone’s desire to stand up and say, “I’m so done. Happy hour?” But as we watched people walk past our cubes to the stairway down to freedom, we continued to sit. And type. And budget.

As we all had our eyes on our screen, we heard the door squeak open, knowing a fellow worker was making their escape. And then it happened.

A belch erupted from the doorway and reverberated through the stairwell. We could hardly process the noise that had just snapped us from our focus. One by one, our heads popped up from behind our cubicles like little gophers. Without words we asked each other, Did that just happen?

It did.

The door closed behind the belcher and their anonymity remained a mystery.

For days we all speculated about the source of the belch – who could it be??? Who would be so brazen to belch their way out of the office without so much as an “Excuse me”? And, of course, could we expect an encore the following day???

***********

Regrettably, days went by without a word – or a sound – from our after hours entertainer. We had nearly given up the hunt until one noon in the lunchroom. A couple of my fave office gals were chatting over our daily lunch of Lean Cuisine’s and Smart Ones. The kitchen usually creates an array of sounds – ice machines churning, microwaves going off, gossips at the coffee machine – but this particular moment was very quiet. At the exact moment of a lull in the conversation it came.

Another belch.

This was longer than the previous offense, but there was no question it was from the same owner. It was one of those exaggerated burps where you can picture a lip curling, rippling through the air. It would be considered glorious, if that were ever the right adjective for a burp….

The silence, coupled with the belch, coupled with four women that had been working too long and too hard that week was too much….and tragically, the result was peals of laughter that simply could not be contained.

We sat holding our breath, waiting to see who would walk out from behind the divider and unmask himself as the mystery belcher.

And then there he was. Proud. Secure. Seemingly unaware of his performance.

Now, we wait for a three-peat….it can only be a matter of time…..

 

 

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