February 17, 2009
So this past Saturday was Valentine’s Day. It’s a tough one. Especially on the guys.
Culture has made it a MUST DO to send your beloved a dozen red roses. Even if roses aren’t her favorite flower. Even if they cost $50.00 more to get them to her on that day versus just about any other day of the year.
Me, I’m not so much about roses. My favorite flowers are iris and ranunculus. I like orchids too. And I’m not so much about getting flowers because Hallmark decided that this is the one day to celebrate your love.
Because to me, if you’re not feeling it every day, marking one special day when you’re supposed to feel it is only going to make matters worse.
In fact, I ran into a guy today at one of my jobs. I asked him if he celebrated Valentine’s Day. He said he didn’t have a girlfriend (or a wife either) and thought about going out and getting one just so he’d have someone to share the day with. He said he was glad he didn’t. I agree. If you hook up with someone just to have someone to spend Valentine’s Day with I think you’re creating expectations that are just too great to maintain.
So VD was decidedly low key chez Atkins. Zoe got a box of chocolates and a stuffed teddy proclaiming our love for her. We opted to dine in rather than fight the hoards of loved up people getting frustrated. I do not do well in restaurants with bad service and large crowds and Chuck knows this about me. So I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas. One of Chuck’s favorite meals.
What did I get you wonder? Well, Chuck gave me cookies his ex girlfriend baked! Very beautiful, very delicious cookies. And because it is true love and an I have an overwhelming sense of security in my relationship that I thought it was one of the best gifts I could have gotten.
November 4, 2008
September 9, 2008
The following is a short list of fruits I would never consider putting in my morning cereal:
oranges (or any kind of citrus)
August 29, 2008
Dear Whoever Thought Putting the Adjustment Thingies on the Back of Bra Straps Was a Good Idea:
August 19, 2008
Like most (I think) families across the U.S., and even around the world, we have been spending a fair amount of time watching the Olympics.
I love the Olympics.
I remember, as a kid, spending two weeks in the winter and two weeks in the summer, every four years, watching the most amazing and inspiring athletes performing amazing feats of sporting amazingness.
There was Jean Claude Killy, Peggy Flemming, Carl Lewis, Olga Korbut and Nadia Comaneci. Of course there was Mark Spitz. In later years we cheered on Mary Lou Retton, Apolo Ono, and so many others.
But the one true man who holds my heart when I watch the Olympics is Bob Costas.
Because here’s the thing about Bob Costas…there he is in some tv studio in beautiful downtown Beijing doing his Olympics host thing. And there you are sitting in your living room with your family. You pause your DVR to discuss some kind of issue about what’s happening on your screen. And don’t you know, a minute later, when your discussion is over and perhaps there are still unanswered Olympics-related questions, the network cuts from the event you were just discussing to Bob Costas and I swear as if he was eavesdropping on your conversation will bring up the very same thing and will answer any and all unanswered questions clearly and concisely.
I don’t know quite how he does it. I like to think that Bob (yes, he and I are “likethis” and I call him Bob) has the hearts and minds of the world in his heart and mind.
So thank you Bob.
August 17, 2008
Effective July 1, it became illegal in the state of California to drive using your cell phone. So now, every Tom, Dick, ad Harriet walks around wearing a bluetooth headphone. Everyone but me of course, since my fabulous car has built-in bluetooth. And I think I would just look silly walking around wearing my car.
So, everywhere you go you see people who are seemingly talking to themselves.
The other day I was in the supermarket parking lot and I saw a woman coming in my general direction and she was talking to herself. I didn’t really give it another thought. (See above about everyone walking around talking to themselves.)
As the woman approached I noticed something was not quite right but I couldn’t put my finger quite on it.
There she was, yammering away. I passed her as she approached a light pole. She stopped walking. She was getting very agitated and not a little loud.
This is the point where I noticed she wasn’t actually wearing any kind of headset.
August 2, 2008
Me: I got this bacon for free. I had a coupon.
Chuck: That’s the kind of stuff dreams are made of.
July 29, 2008
So I stopped at the ATM up the street from my house this morning. I was on the way to a project and I knew I’d have to pay to park so I needed some $$$.
All the stars were aligning. The ATM I went to is one of those stand alone kind, not attached to a bank, but on the side of a building. They’re ATM’s from my bank so I don’t have to pay those stupid service charges and it was on the way to where I was going and there’s always ample easy access parking. I know, you can hear the angel music already.
There are two machines. There’s a guy using one of them already so I go to put my card in the slot on the other one. The thing is, my card wouldn’t slide easily into the slot. So what did I do? Naturally I try to force my card into the slot. I shoved and wiggled and got my card most of the way in. I got it to the point where the stupid machine should recognize there’s a card in the slot and suck it in. But the machine’s not sucking. And now I’ve somehow managed to get my card pretty far in the slot. So far in the slot that I couldn’t get a grip on it to pull it out.
At this point I realize that someone must have had the same, or similar, dilemma because I finally notice that there’s a neat crescent knocked out of the plastic surrounding the entrance to the slot.
I started to get a little agitated at this point. My ATM is stuck far enough into the machine that a law abiding citizen like myself couldn’t get it out, but if there was a more nefarious criminal type around, they’d have had no trouble. I didn’t want to leave my card stranded in the machine to go home and get some pliers. I was going to be late for my appointment if something miraculous didn’t happen pretty soon.
So I asked the guy using the ATM next to me if he might have a pair of pliers in his car. Well, he didn’t have needle nose pliers (like I was hoping) but he did have a Leatherman and a Swiss Army Knife. Between those two miracle tools he was able to get my card out of the machine.
I thanked the guy profusely and used the machine he’d had no trouble with.
I got my card back. I got my money. I got to my appointment on time. Laaaaaaaaaaaa.
July 27, 2008
Like most of the rest of you (I hope) I’ve been making an effort to reduce my carbon footprint, and do what I can environmentally speaking. The little things can add up to big differences and I’m all about the little things.
I would say that 99% of my household cleaning supplies are “environmentally gentle”. I’m a big fan of Method products. They’re nice to the earth, they smell really good, and as an added bonus, they actually work and get things clean.
I recently ran out of dishwasher detergent. My beloved Cascade. All phosphates, all the time. All clean dishes, all the time. When I went to the supermarket to buy replacement dishwasher detergent I looked for something by Method. Alas, there was nothing. But there was Planet automatic dishwasher detergent. It’s 100% biodegradable; phosphate, dye, and fragrance free; and not tested on animals. This is right up my alley. The packaging is even made of 100% recycled paper. Sign me up. My dishes will get clean and I’m not fucking with the environment any more than is absolutely necessary.
Well, we’ve been using this Planet stuff for about two weeks now. And for the last two weeks, 99% of the dishes that have come out of the dishwasher have been dirty, thus necessitating a second wash in the sink. And it’s not the same dirt the dishes went in with (most of the time). This Planet stuff was leaving a nasty white residue on the plates and on the insides of all the glasses. I tried more detergent. I tried less detergent. Nothing seemed to make a difference.
(Call me madcap, but it kind of defeats the purpose of using an environmentally responsible product when you have to use more resources to get the residue said product leaves on your dishes.)
So when I was at the supermarket yesterday I picked up the ginormous box of Cascade. I ran the dishwasher last night and lo, angel music, laaaaaaaaa, all the dishes were clean.
July 1, 2008
When the queen is happy, the kingdom is happy.