Category Archives: Seriously

Those People

What needs to be addressed…

Uno: I saw the Extreme Bow Hunting-guy on the freeway last Friday when I was driving to work.

To jog your memory…

Before you ask, yes, I’m positive that it was the same guy.

First and foremost, I refuse to believe that there are any other people rampaging around the Minneapolis/St. Paul metro area with a truck that has been tricked out like that.  Secondly (and more logically), the truck I was cruising with had firefighter plates and unless this is some sort of bizarre-o underground fire department thing that I’m just not privy to, IT HAD TO BE HIM.

Dos: When we were out for Jody’s birthday on Saturday night, our waitress felt the need to publicize her son’s business by festively distributing his business card along with the check.

Yes, that was weird.

But the card itself was weirder, and basically cancelled out any of the initial weirdness.

These things happen sometimes.

I’m not sure what made her decide that we were the kind of people who obviously had a gaping hole in our lives that could only be filled by this…

…but apparently, we just are.

Starring: Cletus…The Mechanical Bull.


I die.

Have you ever had a server who has given you something that’s just a little bit off with the check?

Do you ever commute with the same drivers?

Last year, I spent some quality time on the drive home with Extremist Bumper Sticker Man.  This spring?  I’ve found that if I leave the house ~5 minutes late, Maserati Man and I end up driving the entirety of our commute (within a block) together.


Paint Chip Invasion

No, this isn’t part of Operation: Paint the Bathrooms.

We’re picking out colors for our Ketubah.

If you’re opting-out of the Wikipedia option, a Ketubah is the Jewish marriage contract and in the modern-day an objet d’art.  Since we’re working with an artist, we get to design it from scratch.

For our theme, we’re going to be designing it around a star chart from our wedding day, June 12, 2011.  My name in hebrew means star, Marcus minored in astrophysics and we love the night sky.

All signs point to yes.

We’re working on finding a color for the arrangement, and I keep coming back to the Mediterranean sea and frescoes.

Obviously to make the process easier, we thought it would be a good idea to have an actual color to show the artist.  So we arranged for a trip to Lowe’s .

And then things started to get a little bit out of control.  I mean, I knew how many blues and greens and purples there are.  But seriously, did you know how many there are?

Obviously the idea of moderation didn’t even cross my mind.

I haven’t counted how many chips we grabbed, but on our way home, I decided it would probably be more fun to make it a competition.

So this is how we do.  Whoever is able to correctly guess the number of paint chips in the pile will get a wonderful prize from the Bahamas.  Since the Bahamas doesn’t do a rousing trade in prescription drugs a la Retin-A or interesting alcohol like Mexico, the prize will probably be some fabulous arrangement involving seashells as a design concept, plastic palm trees and some sort of ridiculously pun-y slogan emblazoned across the mess in gold script.

Game is on: How many paint chips are in the pile?

A true conundrum.

It’s rare that I lose the will to type.  But last night, that was pretty much the case.  Thank God pictures are worth the thousand words I didn’t take the time to tap out.

Our Reward: An Excedrin Hangover.  I spent part of the morning trying to figure out where that fit in relative to the more popular Sudafed and Nyquil hangovers.  My results are as of yet, inconclusive.

But now, a true conundrum.

We all know that as a part of my Drugstore Diva-hood, I don’t even embrace what could be described as a modicum of skincare.  Yes, I know that’s probably why I look pre-maturely 27, and why I should be rue-ing the day that I turn 30.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Yesterday, a co-worker and I had to take a moment in the ladies’ room to mourn the state of our skin.  In the 23 years I’ve spent on this earth, I have never experienced a winter as dry as this one.

To that end, despite my total domination of the Jergens bottle and my Ponds Night Cream (which usually yield totally appropriate results), I am still not winning the war.  And neither is she.

Please send help.  And an under-eye skin graft.

Separately, Jess @ A Taste of Confidence gave me the Stylish Blogger Award.  Thank you, lady!  It’s my first ever go-round with one of these – I’m so excited 🙂

As with any game worth playing, we have to play by the rules.  Since we already know that I’m Type A to the point of sorting presents, I think I’ve got the situation under control.  They are as follows…

  1. Thank the person who gave you the award.
  2. Share seven facts about yourself.
  3. Give the award to seven bloggers that you just love.
  4. Comment on their blogs and tell them that they won!

So, without further adieu, some things that y’all still don’t know about me…

  1. I despise the squeak that cotton balls make when you rub them together.
  2. The only television set that Marcus and I have on the main floor of our house is in the bedroom.  When we cook together, we actually listen to oldies music on the radio.  How old-school is that?
  3. I’ve never worn my UGGs without socks on.  I know they’re allegedly warmer that way, but quite honestly, I find the situation to be totally uncomfortable.
  4. I’m scared to death of getting a professional pedicure because if some killer bacterial infection doesn’t get me, I’m afraid that they’ll take off my running callouses.  They’re not hot, but I really need them.
  5. The only reason I stopped biting my fingernails in eighth grade is because I got braces and it became physically impossible.  Retrospectively, I probably didn’t need braces.  But I got a nice pair of mitts out of the deal.  Most expensive way to break a habit.  Ever.
  6. When I was little and still in ballet, I used to do grand jetes in the freezer aisle of the grocery store.  Sometimes I still do grand jetes in the freezer aisle of the grocery store.
  7. Everything in my closet is organized by first by style (cut, length, type of garment, etc.) and then color in Roy G. Biv fashion.  And yes, I still use Roy G. Biv to determine what’s what.

Kittens, I have a crazy-case of Sadie Hawkins syndrome (that really could have been a fact of its own) so, you’re all tagged!  Feel free to bring the award to your blog, or spill your facts in the comments.

What sort of moisturizer do you swear by?

Making it Happen

Friends, I hope y’all had simply wonderful weekends.  Mine was one of the more memorably fantastic ones, but my energy is just gone.  Naps probably would have been the obvious solution, but that would have meant that I was sleeping and not living life. 

For the record, if you’re in bed by 9 PM on the day that daylight savings time begins, does it still count as tragically pathetic?

Who knew…

That a simple sandwich could overwhelm me? 

Last week, Ameena discussed her extremely short stint as a short-order cook

Today, I was all like, Girl, I totally hear you.

You see, I was a little bit surprised today when Marcus came home from frisbee and informed me that while he was in the shower/was watching the Vikings game, I would be making him His sandwich. 

Specifically, the roast beef-cheese and tomato sandwich he eats like, every other day.


This is the portion of the show where I tell y’all that NEVER, EVER in all of the time that I’ve known him, have I made him that sandwich.  I’ve grilled him sandwiches and baked/roasted/braised anything and everything that’s edible under the sun. 

But a cold cut sandwich?  His sandwich?  Has not happened.

You'll notice the shredded cheddar cheese. My man, he shreds it by hand. In order to maintain the integrity of the sandwich, I too had to hand-shred.

So as I was making the sandwich, the OCD perfectionist inside wanted to know, How much meat?  How many slices of tomato?  How much will he notice if I don’t actually shred the cheese?

It was a humbling experience, really.

And probably not one that I’ll be repeating any time soon.

When you’re making a sandwich do you go for shredded cheese or sliced cheese? 

Personally, I’m all about the sliced cheese unless I’m making an open-faced melt, in which case I can be swayed.

p.s. Separately, I realize that lots of people have joined The Group (as it were) since I went wedding dress shopping in July.  So, if you want to know all about that ordeal and see every dress I tried on except The One, check out 16 Dresses Later.

I take it all back.

Internet, I take it all back.  The traffic yesterday was atrocious.

But when I got home yesterday, I didn’t come home to this.

Those six shingles would be the ones that happened to fall in the middle of our driveway. Lord only knows how many others came down.

WTF, Mother Nature?

Not cool.

I bet it will be really hassle-free to work through our association to get an insurance claim filed. 

Thankfully, we didn’t lose our power…though the lights did try to pull that flickering nonsense on me.

I didn’t want to have go all Laura Ingalls Wilder on the situation and break out the candles.  I couldn’t tell you to save my life where we might have a flashlight hiding (No lie, when the power went out in my apartment in March, I had to use the Flashlight app on my iPod Touch.).  But candles?  We have an entire drawer full.  It’s because we’re prepared like that.

In the spirit of uncertainty and comfort, tonight was a repeat dinner night.

Those happen more than you would think when Marcus is at class. 

Sometimes it’s nice to have a fast dinner.  Sometimes it’s nice to be able to make something for one meal without having to commit to days worth of leftovers for lunch and dinner.  It’s never for lack of options.

If it’s delicious, we feast.

1 piece of Trader Joe's garlic naan, shredded cheese, one tomato (for the base w/ s+p+evoo), garlic-stuffed green olives and red onion. Just delicious!

Like I said – if you haven’t done it, do it.  Now.

Confession Time: How frequently are you a dinner repeater?

Today, I actually ate the exact same meals that I had yesterday (Apple Cobbler Overnight Oats, Roasted Fall Veggies over Arugula w/ Bleu Chese and Balsamic Vinegar, and Naan Pizza).  But we already knew that I have no shame.

No Quarter

Hello, insane, furnace-like heat.  You’ve succeeded in doing what Tim (my stylist) with his strategic cutting and lots of product can’t: given my unusually sleek + flat hair volume.

I mean seriously, it was over ninety degrees here today.  And it’s HUMID.  Like, what do you even do about that?  Seriously.

I’ve been running my air conditioner at 60 degrees for the last three and a half hours (since I got home) and my apartment is still at least 75 degrees.  At the rate we’re going, Excel Energy is going to own my ass.  Ice-cold air conditioning is my guilty pleasure…Not that I’ll actually experience that tonight.

Running on the treadmill in the workout room instead of outside?  Still felt like running outside.  On a sunny day in the mid-70’s.

There is no quarter.

Can we also take a moment to talk about the fact that there is a spider in Marcus’ bed?  He bites.

We don’t love that.

Or the fact that I’m cultivating an actual WASP graveyard by my patio door?  Somehow they make it into my apartment right around there and naturally, I have to give them death.  Because otherwise they will give me stings. 

We don’t love that, either.

Tomorrow?  A new shot at normalcy.

Last, but not least, keep those giveaway entries coming!  Y’all have until Thursday evening to enter!

On lilacs

I may or may not be tapping this out on my BlackBerry while in bed, embracing the blanket-burrito experience.

But that is neither here nor there.

Tonight, a little food for thought…Budding and blooming Lilac bushes in the spring are lovely. I find them to be fantastic.

Running past hedge row upon hedge row of them is not entirely unlike huffing poison gas.