dear internet,

today i inadvertently dressed like my cartoon doppelganger.
thankfully we're both wearing snappy outfits.

thank you note

polka-dot shoes make me feel peppy even when every fiber of my being wants to throw themselves off a cliff.

thank you, polka-dot shoes.
[...and kicky purple sweater that i bought on sale at the end of last season and am now wearing for the very first time.]

the stuff that dreams are made of

as my brother-in-law pointed out last nite: "you wouldn't even care if they matched."
so true. so, so true.

showtune 'em up

i love showtunes more than is probably wise to acknowledge.
i did shows in elementary school, middle school, high school and college -- as encouraged by my mother, i've always been deeply ensconced in the world of musical theater. road trips with my mom always featured lengthy sing-a-longs to tapes [and, later, cds] from movie and broadway musicals. phantom, evita, music man, hello dolly! -- you name it, we knew every word. it was grand. [i'm not sure why i'm talking in the past tense. we still do this. in fact, my niece has memorized lyrics to songs from both wicked and the sound of music; it's ridiculously cute. and hilarious.] so. i'm a broadway baby. i have friends [brad, kendall...i'm talking about you] who are equally fanatical [brad moreso than anyone i've ever met. ever. ever.] i have no problem admitting it, which is why when i see clips like this one:


my heart soars. i remember watching this when it was first posted to youtube, a year or so ago. i stumbled back onto it today, after reading this excellent interview with neil patrick harris on the onion av club site, and have been laughing about it for hours. tres hilarious.

time has come today

i've been thinking a lot, lately, about time.
some exciting things have been happening to friends and family and it's made me reflect on the relevance, presence and dissolution of time.

what's been going on/what's coming up:

• non-date moved to florida, where he plans to stay until this time next year [something i try to not think about very often]
• my best friend from college is moving to turkey, where she's accepted a ridiculously fantastic new job, and where she will live with her ridiculously fantastic boyfriend, with whom she's been dating long-distance for two years
• my other best friend from college is getting married to boy she met while in college and has been dating for the past 10 years
• my niece starts pre-school this month [i like to pretend that this isn't happening]
• other friends are moving, starting new jobs, getting new degrees
• friends from the bookstore recently got married; the reception was a big ball of fun, completely reflective of their personalities and love for one another
• my mom will not be teaching this fall for the first time in almost thirty years
• children that i used to baby-sit for are: seniors in high school, college graduates, engaged to be married [thus, i am old]
• my nephew is 10 months old [and a cheeky monkey, which we encourage]
• my beautiful sister, who laments her absence on this blog [ha!] and has been married for 11 years, still gets asked if she's the younger or older sister [and rightly so]

so, yeah. time. when did we become old enough to move to other countries or get married or go to pre-school? the passage of time is baffling to me. just the other day, i shut my computer off at 5:22. by the time i got to my car it was 5:40 on the nose. where did those 18 minutes go? i know that i grabbed my salad bowl from the kitchen, chatted momentarily with bit, then hoofed it to the garage [which takes about 5 minutes.] but 18 minutes? to do all that? that's almost a full episode of 'friends' [sans commercials.] in 18 minutes, i could have prepped and baked a batch of cookies. i can drive to the mall and back, from my house, in under 18 minutes.

that time passes, even while doing mundane or necessary-yet-mind-numbingly-boring things, always blows my mind. i feel as though there should be some sort of pause button, to store that time up for really important events like birthdays or weddings or running through an airport trying to catch your connecting flight. but i suppose, were that the case, we'd lose a bit of the appreciation we have for those moments [i know it sounds like i'm describing adam sandler's movie, "click", but that is not the case.] even as i sit here, typing, neglecting the work on my desk, time is passing. it's almost palpable. heartbeats are biological representations of ticking clocks.

time: you're weirding me out. behave.

--------------

and now, a funny picture:

this is jorge. in a turban.
otherwise known as: what happens when there's not much to talk about at the morning bookstore meeting

manga me

just for fun.



[just as i expected: cartoon me is cuter than actual me. i think it's because her hair doesn't move.]

bah-din

for those of you who don't know, i sang in an all-female a cappella group for four years in college. [i was actually president for the last two of those years. yes. yes i was.] i remember a lot about those years: my audition [what i sang, what i was wearing]; subsequent members' auditions; the difficulty of learning a piece, coupled with the excitement when it finally came together -- or the disappointment when it didn't; parties; competitions; road trips; shopping for concert attire; the physical performance high; the numerous arguments between group members. i'm fairly certain that tolstoy's war & peace is an extended allegory for collegiate a cappella; dickens clearly had us in mind when he began a tale of two cities, "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." [perhaps it was supposed to be entitled, a tale of two ditties? i'm lame.]

a cappella is a strange, strange beast. there's a lot of snapping and smacking of one's body in order to keep tempo and provide percussion. there's a lot of 'do-do-do'-ing and 'dit-di-dit'-ing. and for the most part, musical arrangements are ridiculously creative and have you putting sounds and words together in ways that make no sense on paper [and often, initially, out loud] but in the end -- when combined with the voices and notes and sequences and harmonies of the other people in the group -- form this cohesive and [ideally] enjoyable song. i enjoyed about 85% of my time with a cappella. but once i graduated, i had no strong desire to ever sing it [or listen to it] again. [this is only significant when realizing that many people who've sung a cappella DO continue to sing and enjoy it post-graduation. more power to them.] i am thankful for many things that resulted from my a cappella involvement [extremely good friends; heightened snapping skills; the inability to resist singing along to any song where i know at least part of an a cappella arrangement] and, conversely, many things that i could do without [pictures of myself in regrettable outfits; unfortunate relationships; the inability to resist singing along to any song where i know at least part of an a cappella arrangement.]

so when i saw this quote from stephen colbert, in his address to princeton graduates, i knew i wanted to remember it forever:

"When you leave here, no one will ever, ever want to hear you sing a capella."

truer words were never spoken.

dirty tissue birds

i am not fond of birds, to put it mildly.

but this flattened tissue that surfaced from underneath my pillow this morning [hooray for dormant allergies] sort of charmed it's way into my heart:

doesn't it look like a parrot?!

kind of?

no?

whatever. it was like 3AM when i found it.

i'm tired.

go away. and take the dirty tissue bird with you.

i like beverages

skirt: the issue

skirts that snap all the way down the front should include a warning to potential passers-by that a wardrobe malfunction may be imminent.

or so i've heard.

coffee

before i went into work last saturday, i stopped at starbucks to grab a cup of coffee. this is my ritual, every saturday morning. same starbucks. same drink. being that i work in a bookstore [where i'm always on these saturdays] it would make more sense, financially, to purchase coffee once i arrive given my employee discount. but, instead, i insist on having the same debate every saturday in the starbucks parking lot: pull into the parking lot, mull over the plan to go inside and buy coffee, from within my car i think to myself, "you're being irresponsible with your money," and then i proceed to open the door, pop inside and order my venti decaf. as i headed out, drink safely procured, i noticed this on the ground next to my car:



so sad! this errant, lonely pile of coffee grounds. my mind flashed to tom hanks in 'castaway' attempting to lap up spilled coconut and pictured myself in a similar, desperate, needing-a-morning-beverage-in-a-dire-situation type way with these grounds.

i'm gross.
buying your coffee brewed is definitely the way to go.

morning reflections - updated 6/3

i truly love:

• olivia and alex
• jeans that fit really well
• sweatpants after wearing a skirt all day
• my slippers
• ice cream during the winter
• a well-executed recipe
• dinner parties
• occasionally dining alone
• gummies
• a good bargain
• grocery shopping
• uninterrupted book-reading
• really, really good tv
• new crayons
• [brackets]
• movie reviews
• strong coffee with cream
• my moleskin
• spontaneous gift-giving
• sandwiches
• show tunes
• a handwritten note

i despise:

• liver
• interruptions
• the smell of wet peanut butter
• poorly made/written childrens' movies/books
• disappointing meals
• when people leave caps off markers
• gift cards that deppreciate
• spoilers [information, not car]
• weak hugs
• scape-goating
• meetings
• complacency

secret

...i live with the perpetual fear that i will someday drop my keys down the elevator shaft, leaving me permanently stranded at work.

creepy!

i took this picture while waiting for the elevator after a long day at the office.

and...i...totally look like an insect. my left eye is huge! and my right eye looks like it's gone rogue. i don't normally enjoy photos of myself but this one makes me happy. oh, and take notice of the earring in my left ear. there's a story about that coming up shortly.

hey...

...why won't my planner/coffee mug fit into my purse?

oh. it must be that MOLDY BANANA taking up all the space.

i'm officially that crazy woman who carries rotten fruit around with her.

brain tracks

so, just some insight into how my brain works.

i was driving into work this morning and 'the world has turned (and left me here)' by weezer came on the radio [this was preceded by mika's 'lollipop' and 'falling slowly' from once, which just won the oscar for best song, which made me ridiculously happy. it also made me cry in the car this morning. but, shut up.] so, i'm listening to the weezer and this is what my brain did, 'i like this song. i should listen to more weezer. whatever happened to my blue album? oh, right. i let ______ borrow it. and i never got it back when we broke up. annoying. i got stuck with about five collegiate a cappella albums, and he ended up with my weezer album. a cappella. percussion. melissa and i were definitely doing some body percussion at monty's this weekend, in time to some random song being played on the jukebox. some guy gave us funny looks and clearly thought we were having seizures. monty's. we never heard the songs we picked from the jukebox on saturday. i'm pretty sure one of them was by weezer. i wish i had that blue album. jackass. boys are dumb. where is my boys are dumb t-shirt? i need to do laundry. i miss the palm trees.' the end.

my brain is one giant 'choose your own adventure' story.

my date with john krasinski (or: the dreams i have after i drink wine)

i was in maine -- which, not-so-coincidentally, is where i'm headed tomorrow for a week -- putzing around what appeared to be a farmer's market. my hair was looking exceptionally good in spite of the humidity and my face looked thinner than usual (whee!) i stopped to inspect some cucumbers (that is not foreshadowing -- it's not that kind of dream) and lo and behold - john krasinski, weighing lemons. he looked very new england - white polo, khaki shorts, flip flops. we struck up a conversation about produce -- he seemed to favor the summer squash -- and went to part ways when he asked about my plans for later that day. i told him that i was staying in maine for a week with my family, and would he like to come out for dinner with us that evening. it just so happened that we met on my birthday (this is not a stretch; vacation week incorporates my birthday.) so. john krasinski, who found time to go back to wherever he was staying and change his clothes, came to birthday dinner with my family. now, it's uncertain as to whether or not we knew he was famous as there was no mention of 'the office' during dinner conversation. although, i did comment on how much i liked the sneakers he wore when he and rainn wilson were on 'ellen'. so, scratch that. he was obviously famous. but apparently we're too evolved/busy eating to make mention of that. dinner ended. the family evaporated, as they are prone to do in the subconscious, and john krasinski and i went for a walk on the beach (which was looking a bit more south florida than northern maine. who cares.) i think we talked about some seemingly insignificant things (this part is kind of a blur.) but he did ask if he could see me again before i left. ("i'm sorry. i'm just not interested." yeah. i'm not that dumb in my dreams.)

now, i'm assuming that i saw him again. but the cat woke me up at this point and i never returned to john krasinski-ful maine. severe sadness.

also: this does not bode well for my actual vacation, as i'm sure to be disappointed.

bouo.

woke up monday morning after a particularly grueling, work-centric weekend feeling as though my entire body had been panini-pressed. i ached...greatly. i dragged my tortured bod to the bathroom, barely cleared the edge of the tub, and began my shower. as i began to wash my left leg, i noticed a rather large dark spot. i seriously thought it was a giant smearing of motor oil (not that motor oil would belong on my leg first thing in the morning, but you know my history with cars. and i was tired.) and tried to scrub it off. turns out it was a HUGE bruise, the tenderness of which was not catered to with all the scrubbing. now, seriously: it's huge. and i have zero recollection as to it's origin. it is the bruise of unknown origin. it's the size of, and resembles in shape, one of those little debbie christmas tree snack cakes. it's a lovely shade of eggplant (turning into a lovely shade of artichoke) and would be rather artistic/tattoo-like if it didn't HURT LIKE HELL. seeing as how it's 90 degrees here today, it's also rather limiting in the wardrobe department. no one wants to see satan's handprint at work and i've tried my best to keep it covered, but: IT'S 90 DEGREES. and my office has no air conditioning. i've taken to tucking my leg under when i sit but i've the feeling that will not be conducive to the healing process. it sort of looks like diego rivera started another mural and got bored 3% of the way through. i blame my job...mostly because if the weekend hadn't been so hellacious, i wouldn't have had to go out sunday night and consult the liquid therapist, most likely resulting in some anti-coordination display that led to said bouo. i wonder how the worker's comp people feel about bruises.

don't cross me.

i sometimes have dreams about ex-boyfriends that look suspiciously like this.
(photo: melissa hom, new york magazine)

chococalypse

there's a half-used, plastic (store-bought) container of chocolate frosting sitting in the refridgerator that i cannot stop thinking about.

countdown to caffeine: less than 3 days

countdown to nervous breakdown and sanity explosion: imminent

(also: i was at work yesterday, proofing a letter that contained the phrase "collaborative partnerships." seriously. my brain imploded.)