Vroooom

Today I feel like talking about my car.  I can guarantee it is not an exciting topic.

I am really bad about renewing my registration and inspection.  Right now my tags are sitting at 6 and 7 months expired respectively.  It has become a contest with myself to see how long I can go without renewing them.  (I am really hoping that I haven't just jinxed myself).  Last time I made it about 10 months.  It was so far expired that the cop who pulled me over (yes, that is the degree of urgency that gives me the required motivation to get it done) was amused rather than annoyed.  He told me he couldn't believe I made it that long without getting pulled over.  I told him that he ruined my goal of reaching a year.

In addition to my expired tags, I am also driving around with out of date license plates.  The last time that I managed to get my registration they gave me new plates.  While I am willfully ignoring the law (although I suppose I am already doing that with the tags but that is out of laziness not defiance!) I can't help it.  I have a sentimental attachment to my plates.  

My first car was a 1986 Honda Civic hatchback named Zeus.  He was named so godly in hopes that he would live up to the name.  Instead, we had a short lived romance due to a blown head gasket.  It also managed to blow off the radiator cap.  Have you ever seen a geyser of radiator fluid?  It's both terrifying and awe inspiring.  You can see why I didn't have the chance to memorize its license plate number.  

Metis, my second car was shiny and new.  I bought it while in college and loved it.  Another Honda Civic, I knew this one was destined to last a lot longer.  I have now had it for 9 years and it has been nothing but lovely.  The downside of this car is that it is a silver Honda.  Next time you are on the road or in a parking lot and look around.  I guarantee a sea of silver Hondas will blind you.  Thus, it has been beyond necessary for me to diligently memorize my plate number.  Imagine my horror when they gave me new plates.  I can't learn a new series of numbers and letters!  Well, actually I can but I don't want to!  Metis (This was Zeus first wife before he ate her.  She is also Athena's mother.  Said eating of Metis is why Athena was born out of Zeus head.  I know it is totally nerdy but I was taking Greek Mythology at the time and liked the continuity.) is attached to her first plates and, like me, has not yet come to terms with the change.  

The next phase of my lack of car care has to do with oil and tires.  I can't remember when I last changed it.  It's pretty damn amazing my car has lasted this long, isn't it?  Also, my front tire is nearing flat.  It sits at about half the inflation of the other tires.  I can only imagine what kind of damage this is doing to my car.  

Lastly, I keep a really messy car inside and out.  One of the major advantages of a silver car is that it takes much longer to show the dirt.  Unfortunately, no color of car can obscure five months of grime.  The inside is no better.  I have managed to clean my trunk out and it only holds laundry baskets and recyclable shopping bags.  The rest of the car is not as lucky.  It holds a lot.  Right now the front seat can accommodate no passenger because it holds a clock that doesn't work, some receipts, a bag of stuff and a whole bunch of other stuff that is cluttering the whole thing.  The back seat is better but not much except that I think it can fit a small child.  I know it is easy enough to keep a car clean.  Unless you are me.  

In the spirit of starting the new year with better habits, the car is my next thing to tackle. I have already been pretty good about making the bed - I haven't missed a day since I started the blog!  So, once I get back from this weekend, my car will become an immaculate vision.  I think I will finally get the glass bits out from the time it was broken into (about 18 months ago).  

So, like the bed, there will no be a car report.  I am sure you can hardly wait...

Assortments

A random list of topics today:

1. Hate hate hate my job. I put in a time off request a few weeks ago and have yet to hear from my boss. I am fairly certain this means no. Am very pissed as I asked for the week of the 29th possibly the slowest week of the year other than this one. On top of it my ASSISTANT is off. Very pissed that she gets to take it while I do not. Especially as I worked late this past Friday night as well as Saturday morning. Am getting very tired of being treated so shitty and will have no guilt as I work on my resume next week while here.

2. Am debating running a marathon. Have been meaning to and wanted to run a half in January. I feel behind on training due to my shitty shitty shitty job. (When I talk about my job it is required that I say everything in threes to truly illluminate how strongly I feel.) My friend Kristin is going to be a coach for Team in Training (unfortuante acronym by the way for a woman's group) for a marathon in Seattle. Am beginning to get very scared about signing up but looking forward to something that will provide a goal with a structured plan.

3. My dad and brother came to visit last night for Christmas and I am happy to report that all went well.

4. Bed made for a consistent week!

5. This is a not so great post but anger and rage usually leave me with very poor communication skills be they written or otherwise.

Shopper's Delight

I am having a problem with Christmas this year.  My problem is a sad one too.  It seems that every time I walk into a store I am compelled to buy MYSELF something.  This has happened consistently this month.  On a number of occasions I have left a store with no gifts for anyone except myself.

I am not grinchy - I swear.  I really love this time of year and get excited picking out gifts that I hope will be well suited to the receiver.  

See, with my Dad it was easy.  For years I have struggled with what to get him and typically it falls into one of two categories: stuff for golf or stuff for running.  I decided this year that it was time to do something different.  Luckily for me I stumbled into steak.  Yes, after years of the same gift year after year, I made the brilliant discovery that give a man some meat and he will be happy (some exceptions may apply).  Not only is this the best gift for my Dad ever but it can also be done online.  The beauty of that being that I go with one singular purpose, there is no distraction, and there is no chance of wanting anything the site sells for myself.  It's not that I don't love steak it's just that you have to cook them.  I feel like that is better left to people who will not char a decent steak down to a hockey puck.  

After the mail order meat success I started to think that online might be the best way to go.  Unfortunately, not so.  I am a picky shopper - picky in all things really (although I prefer selective, it sounds much more positive and less bratty!).  For me, I need to really see something to get a sense of whether or not I like it because as we all know, looks can be deceiving.  Thus, my attempts to shop online have yielded little success.  I can't tell if I really like something.  Plus, buying online means that if I don't like it, returning it will be a huge pain in the ass.  

I, for the record, am the queen of returns.  Not only am I picky but also indecisive.  I don't mean to be, it's just that sometimes I get so caught up in the moment and can't resist the urge to buy.  Then I get home and reality sinks in - how have I come home with yet another black skirt or grey sweater?  It's then that sense and responsibility once again takes hold of my brain and lead me back to the store before my 30 days are up for a full refund.  

This year has been the worst of all years and sadly, not too many excursions have resulted in returns because I LOVE everything I have bought.  I would like to believe that I am just living in denial about the recession.  Or perhaps I am enjoying some buying power before I find a new job that I fear will pay less than my current one (but then maybe I will be happier and not need the promise of wearing a cute outfit as the only way to convince me to go to work each day).  Either way, I have to stop!    It has completely been the most tempting of all shopping seasons.

Thankfully I am almost done with all of my shopping!  I have a few small gifts outstanding and a final decision to make on a big one.  But then I will done!  And once again my bank account can live happily ever after.

Baby It's Cold Inside

There are less downsides than you would think to living in a crooked house by the railroad tracks. I have found there to be a surprising lack in the number of hobos populating the tracks and am excited to report that after a treacherous flirtation with hail and a tornado my little house was left unharmed earlier this year.

Unfortunately the biggest problem may be the worst. I am lucky that my place was outfitted with central air and heat long before I moved in. However, it's working abilities leave much to be desired. To say the place is poorly sealed would be too kind. I can see the sunshine through the crack between the door and the frame. During the summer I had a lot of bugs to contend with since they had little barriers to slow down their migration from the outside. Of course, this should have prepared me for the sharp and painful gusts of winds that have plagued me with every temperature dip.

I imagine there is an easy solution for making my home more energy effecient. Some how though, I suspect that the crookedness may be an impediment. Adding that to the unavoidable truth that I am not endowed with handyman skills, it's safe to assume that I will eventually end up a popsicle preserved for eternity.

So far, the cold has been relatively tolerable. Tolerable, that is, until last night when we reached painful lows in the 20's. I tried to stave off the chills I couldn't shake with a bath that in all likelihood scalded off half my skin. Then I bundled up in attire that would appease the prudest of all prudes. Other than the tip of my nose there wasn't a bare patch of skin exposed. Not even the dog was safe - she was frozen to the touch and I shamed her with doggie attire that I am slow to admit owning. But she looked adorable! I think I now understand how babies get dressed in the dumbest outfits.

So, all of this is leading into a bed update! I would like to note that I have now made it three days in a row. It was very touch and go this morning though as I piled on extra blankets to ward off the horrible cold. I have to say anything beyond the six pillows I have and the duvet and bed making seems to get very complicated.

Ay, but it had to be done and done it was.

My Sausage is Melting

Last Christmas I was joking with a friend about how disgusting sauerkraut cookies would be. Being that I hate my job and try to avoid it as much as possible, I thought I would waste a few minutes looking on google to see if such a thing exists. Sadly it does. For those of you with non-discriminatory taste buds you can go here for the recipe: http://www.sauerkrautrecipes.com/recipe15444.shtml For those of you that are sauerkraut enthusiast please note that you can join their sauerkraut club. There is also a link to buy Kraut and Juice. Although I really want an explanation as to what the juice is, something tells me that I really don't want to know. I should also note that a search through the site yeilded no actual recipe for sauerkraut. Instead everything included sauerkraut in the recipe but offered no clue as how to make it and called for only canned varieties.

Feeling motivated to waste more time, I decided to do a search for disgusting cookie recipes after Jesse and I discussed having a contest to find the nastiest ones. I have to say that her suggestion of a taco bell-themed beef and guacamole cookie was pretty foul. Not even the goodness of Taco Bell can make that sound good.

So back to the search results. This is one of the sites that came up: http://www.downsyn.com/phpbb2/viewtopic.php?p=46757&sid=92b8402b325e844c2385975beb36edc9
which is a site for families whose children have Down's Syndrome. I imagine that is quite a stressful situation for any parent. Being that kids are picky enough when it comes to food, I can only assume that children with Down's Syndrome have the same issues if not worse when it comes to mealtime, which makes me wonder why the fuck anyone would think this is a good cookie recipe. For those of you who have not clicked on the link, let me save you the time. The recipe is for CHOCOLATE CAT POOP COOKIES. What the fucking hell? This just seems so...wrong, like a really mean joke. Does anyone want to eat a recipe call Chocolate Cat Poop Cookies? Is a child with Down's Syndrome going to be more compelled towards this? If so, shouldn't a parent steer them far the fuck away from it?

I am now horrified and don't want to scroll down the results list any further since I think I found my winner. Even though the ingredients sound innocuous enough, I don't think I could ever get past the name.

Now that I have determined that looking up disgusting cookie recipes is a really bad idea I am going to move onto another cabbage related story.

Last night Jesse hosted a Russian foods themed dinner party. It saddens me to say that I have now discovered that I like cabbage. I have spent a long number of years insisting that it is awful awful stuff. And while I think it is safe to say that it is if cookies are involved cabbage should be avoided, if puff pastry and mushrooms are along for the ride it should happily be embraced because it's delightful! Also, I don't hate beets after last night's borscht. I do however hate Jesse for making me realize that my food prejudices have steered me wrong all this time. Continuing on the vein of working towards adulthood, I suppose it's time for me to get over my blanket intolerance for foods that sound boring and old such as beets and cabbage. Perhaps I should begin exploring new things although I stand hard and fast at my rejection of liver. Especially if they come from a chicken and are fried.

It's nice that while working I can come to these revelations. What isn't nice is that the clock is ticking soooo slow. What is even worse is the way that I am still smarting over he fact that while having my weekly meeting with my boss he takes a phone call that goes on for about 10 minutes before I decided to walk out. While I appreciated that it gave me time to silently plan my outfits for the rest of the week, I would rather not be blatantly put on the backburner since that happens frequently enough. It's probably fair to warn you about how much I currently dislike my job since there is going to be relatively frequent mentions of that going forward.

Would it be wrong to give people at work Chocolate Cat Poop cookies as Christmas gifts?

Before I end this post, I think it is important to note that I made my bed again this morning! However, moments afterwards, Tallulah, my dog had knocked one of the pillows onto the floor. I am sure she means to be supportive but I think the pillow got in her way of setting up her throne amongst the remaining pillows.

Also, it is really fucking cold.

Lastly, the title of this post refers to the sausage that is currently defrosting on my desk.

A Hint of Expectations

I've decided that it would be a good idea to get a head start on my New Year's resolutions a bit early. You see, I am a bit lazy, so much so that neither medication or fear of getting yelled at can really overcome it. In fact, laziness is number one on my list of things to tackle this coming new year. For a long time I have been kicking around the idea of forcing myself into productivity. Unfortunately, that brings forth a whole black hole of options. Not being much of a hobbyist, unless napping and tv viewing count, I haven't really had any place to funnel my dormant energies.

So, what better way to start than to tirelessly devote myself to writing about what I may or may not be doing? Be prepared as I tackle a number of subjects that truly live up to the title of this blog. In truth, I have other motives. Not only would I like to show commitment to something, I also hope this endeavor helps me figure out what the hell I do with all of my time, and maybe in the end, get closer to spending it in a way that makes me feel like I am using it rather than wasting it. The hope I have for this blog is that it forces me to become a better me and maybe a little less mundane of all things.

Ok, so now that intros are done, I feel I can move on to more important things. Such as how I really believe it's best that I eat all the remaining M&M's in my house or why I am going to start making my bed every morning.

Seeing that M&M's are far more interesting than bed making, let's start there.

Actually, perhaps before we go any further, I think it's important that I make an apology first - to the English language. I am truly sorry for the way that I will be butchering your fine rules of grammar and punctuation. I can pretty much guarantee that I will be misusing commas left and right. Dangling modifiers will be par for the course as will split infinitives. Much as I would love to be correct, I find it mind numbing to remember the details of such things. In fact, I feel that it is best for both of us to ignore the number of grammar guides resting dustily on my bookshelf as well as that English degree that I got.

I also want to apologize for any sort of incoherence that will also be taking place on a relatively regular basis. It's just that my brain works in a nonlinear manner for the most part and to share with you the details of my life, it's only fair that you get them in the same jumble that they appear to me.

Ok, with the non-sequitors complete, we can now get back to M&M's.

I am attempting to go into this new year with the best intentions. And like most people, that means being healthy. I had a fairly good grasp on that as I managed to lose about 12 pounds over the year. However, over the last few months of cookie binges, my weight, although still relatively stable, seemingly has made an even exchange of muscle for fat. Needless to say, I am getting soft. Which is why of course it has been necessary for me to eat the remaining contents of a giant bag of M&M's. Along with the M&M's there were also some cookies, brownies, truffles and chips with queso. I feel like I should clarify that I had a party Thursday and these are the remains. Um, were the remains. Understanding my hoover-like nature, I find it best to keep these things as far away as possible from myself. However, since they were in the house, I felt the only course of action to take was to clear them away so that my new healthy habits could return. Additionally it's Sunday and everyone knows no healthy decisions are made on Sundays.

Besides, I made the bed this morning, which surely absolves me of some irresponsibility, right?

It's important for me to clarify that I never make the bed, unless of course I have company coming over. Making the bed daily seems like a distinguishing marker of adulthood. Assessing that I may be in the market for such a distinction soon, I have decided that I need to start making my bed - every morning. Even Sundays. This seems like the easiest way to kickstart my resolution of tidiness. It also seems like a good way to curb my tendency to oversleep. Now that I am going to have to make the bed in the morning, maybe I will be convinced to get out of it on time.

That's really all I have to say about the bed. I made it. I suppose I will have to wait until tomorrow to see if I can repeat the action another day.