Randoms and reveals

January 21, 2010 at 11:39 pm (Uncategorized)

I still have a raging crush on Neil Patrick Harris. It’s like a whole new level of impossibility. So, yeah, 2010 is beginning much like 2009.

I was more attracted to the kind soul who caught me when the MAX train lurched than I was to the ex-Army bartender/volunteer fireman with the killer abs. Manners > abs. Wow, I really have grown.

This stuff is A-DDIC-TIVE. My mom tells me it tastes like bad beer, but I’m pretty sure it’s miraculous sour fizziness that makes me not crave sugar. If only I could get it in California. I’m considering a trip to visit Colorado Friend just to stock up.

Does anyone else feel like the only difference between one eye cream and the next is gel vs. cream and expensive vs. really ridiculously expensive? I’ve tried Murad, Darphin, Philosophy, Peter Thomas Roth, Kiehl’s (and Kiehl’s), and Neutrogena. I like the first Kiehl’s and the Darphin, but I’m pretty sure it’s mostly because they’re gels and not because they have any effect whatsoever on whether or not I look like I stayed up past 3 am watching Oprah and chugging Grey Goose.

I’m taking a class at a community college (seriously, did you know you can take a college class for $110?!) and it’s turning me into a crotchety old woman. I spend most of the three hours wanting to smack the over-cologned 19-year-olds who are texting during the lecture. In myyyyyyyyy day, students were focused and engaged.

I will be doing the Glamour Magazine cleanse/detox beginning on February 1. Before you get all “cleanses are bad for you” and “it’ll fuck with your metabolism” on me, you should know that the Glamour cleanse is basically a week of eating as I should be eating: 1) Three small meals plus two snacks a day 2) Fruits and veggies galore 3) Lean protein in small portions 4) Portion control on starches, which you’ll only be getting from whole grains or 1/2 a potato 5) Small amounts of fat from olive oil, nuts, or avocados 6) No processed foods. I can do anything for a week, I’m sure, but this one sounds particularly reasonable. I’ll basically be giving up cheese, sugar, pasta, and booze. Easy-peasy…for a week. I’m hoping the cleanse can give me back the feeling I got while drinking the miracle fizzy drink.

P.S. Hi, I’m Sara.

Red lipstick on New Year's Eve!

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In the News

December 18, 2009 at 3:59 pm (Uncategorized)

Yay Portugal! Boo Uganda!

I know it’s an AP story, but I got that Uganda one via Fox. (This is by way of saying, “Look at how objective I’m being!” except, of course, that I’m not. At all.) NPR coverage quoted a US evangelical as stating that those who stand up and say that homosexuality is OK should be arrested.

Hi. [Standing up]


G’head Mr. Langa, bring it.

Not only is this kind of legislation and persecution fundamentally wrong, it’s terribly un-Christian. Shame on you people.

And then there’s this horseshit. When we were at Dachau, we saw plenty of people taking pictures of themselves smiling and pointing to the “Arbeit Macht Frei” sign. I get that it’s iconic and people feel the need to record having been there (hell, I took this photo at the memorial site), but the pointing and smiling seemed…what’s the phrase I’m searching for?…in piss-poor taste. And stealing the thing? If it wasn’t an actual anti-semitic act, then the hooligans should be publicly whipped, like they do in Singapore for spitting out gum. Not for being callous and insulting the memory of those imprisoned and tortured and murdered at that site, but for being absolute fuckwits. If it was anti-semitic, it’s a whole other thing.

And then we have this gem. It’s a story a old as time, really (and at this point, this particular one is an old story). Dude who isn’t getting any calls the women denying him picky whores. Happens all the time. I’m just enjoying the verbal ass-kicking he’s been given by a whole collection of folks (including alumnae who claim they’ll never hire him). I remember the Dangerous Ex talking about how he felt on the Wellesley campus. He was smart enough to see it for the role-reversal it was (that is, many heads turned when he walked through a dining hall, some checking him out, some wondering what he was doing there, and some just being friendly, which, in my experience, is the reaction I’ve received when I’ve walked into a bar, a boardroom, and most every other place, respectively). He was also cocky enough to enjoy it. Then again, he doesn’t have a Napoleon complex, which may or may not be neither here nor there. Ahem.

In not so much news, but marketing materials, I cannot get enough of this dress. I’m not typically a shiny, sparkly, more-is-more type, but lately I love me some sequins. I’d rather pair this with a crisp white button-down (worn open with the sleeves rolled up) and these booties (or these booties). (Heh, I said “booties,” heh.) I don’t know what’s happening around here, truly, but I’m breaking out of my style comfort zone in all KINDS of ways.

In doing-my-sartorial-civic-duty news, my favorite pair of flats are on sale. These things are terribly comfortable and pretty much go with everything. They’re not exactly appropriate for, say, Denver or Chicago in the winter, but come spring they’d be brilliant.

In not-really-news-at-all, I just did a double pirouette in the elevator at work. In flip flops. Between the basement and 1st floor. Boo-yah!

And finally, in weather news, yes, I said I’m wearing flip flops. It’s 61 degrees in beautiful Where-I-Am, California. If it helps, I’m headed to Denver (plus Breckenridge) for a few days, so I assure you I won’t be wearing them tomorrow morning.

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Protected: Relationship Mementos (again)

October 28, 2009 at 1:58 pm (On dating and mating, past, plays well with others, Uncategorized)

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Observations in Deutschland

October 22, 2009 at 12:19 am (Uncategorized)

Let’s start with gross generalizations because they’re the most fun.

Italian tourists are the pushiest, French tourists are the snottiest, German tourists are the loudest, and American tourists are the worst dressed. Russian tourists are pushy, snotty, loud, AND badly dressed. I’m talking to you, fuckwit who pushed in front of me at baggage claim, yelled through me to your companion, and wore the plaid pants un-ironically. Da, you.

German men don’t help with your suitcase or hold a door, but German women always do. We were told beforehand that this would be the case and were shocked by how true it was. We think perhaps it has to do with some concern about being seen as intrusive or amorous because the German people, overall, are incredibly considerate and polite.

I’m in love with this coat. And yes, I know that it’s not high fashion, but I’ve always thought of myself as far more British hunting lodge than pierced Berlin alt-goth.

Visiting Dachau, or one of the other memorial sites, is arresting, frightening, absorbing, terrible, and absolutely necessary. It was, in my own small way, a matter of bearing witness. Particularly when there are South Carolina Republicans about.

Winter is completely overrated.

The Cologne cathedral – with the organ playing and the choir singing and the light streaming in sideways through the new Gerhard Richter window – could bring me to God. For a woman who’s scared of stairs, the descent down the 533 spiraled steps of the tower nearly convinced me to make a pact with the devil.

I could write Bavaria a sonnet. The pretzels, the bread, the BEER, the people, the medieval towns, the way Munich handles its Nazi past. Just…wow.

Nürnberger Rostbratwurst are itty bitty happy-makers. Try them, you’ll see I’m right.

I have certain skills, among them navigating foreign cities. Why this did not stop my directionally-challenged mother from questioning me at every turn, I’ll never know. I didn’t question her when she said the choir was singing a major 6th chord. (Unless asking, “what’s a major 6th?” counts.)

I could absolutely pick up German if the language consisted only of nouns. I also know how to say, “dead” but I’m hoping that wouldn’t come in particularly handy.

The most overrated sight for us was the Jewish Museum in Berlin. We kept trying, but we just didn’t like the place.

On the other hand, the Pergamon made me fall in love with art again.


This may have been the coolest thing I saw in Germany. I completely geek out on anything having to do with the fate of art during WWII.

Forget “ciao”, “tschüß” is officially the most adorable way to say goodbye.

I’ll have pictures as soon as my mom sends them to me. I might even throw in the towel on this whole anonymity thing and post one with my face.

The again, I might not.

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Friday Four

September 11, 2009 at 11:37 am (Uncategorized)

I’m listening to that new Weezer song (and imagining dancing around my new apartment).

I’m reading Design*Sponge and planning my new apartment.

I’m coveting dining room tables and end chairs and dining chairs and desks and “sofettes” and coffee tables and something terribly French that I can’t afford or fit in my new apartment.

I’m craving buttermilk panna cotta, made in my new kitchen.

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Taking deep breaths

August 12, 2009 at 10:37 am (future, plays well with others, Uncategorized)

So, I’m moving. I don’t know where or when exactly (before 10/1) or how I’ll afford it, but I will. And as I’ve mentioned, once I make a decision, I want it to take effect yesterday. I’ve also begun planning how to cut costs through August and September so that I can afford the move-in costs without having to sell a kidney to a rabbi in New Jersey. (Fair warning: The Covet section of the Friday Four is really going to pick up.)

This all sounds very calm (or maybe it doesn’t), but my stomach tells me I’m FREAKING OUT. And really, I should be saving the stomach gymnastics for October when things get interesting.

I’ll move on 10/1 or that weekend (10/3), keeping anything and everything I might need for Germany separate and accessible. I leave for Germany on 10/7. I return from Germany on 10/20 and then welcome Jess and her manfriend on 10/22. Luckily Jess (and I assume her manfriend) is not one to be bothered by piles of unpacked boxes, but life will still be chaos until…oh…Halloween. So you’ll forgive me if I use October 31st as an excuse to dress up as a sexy Snow White and let various princes buy me drinks.

Coming up in the much more immediate future (despite my constant refreshing of craigslist that would indicate otherwise), I have a trip down to Laguna Niguel* with the college ladies, including most of the group from that North Carolina wedding who are scattered about the country. The Future CEO has already offered to pick up the Grey Goose on her way down from La La Land and if she mixes drinks in her signature 3:1 alcohol to mixer style, then I cannot be held responsible for the well-heeled men I’ll flirt with, the dance floors I’ll take over, or the number of times I’ll try to convince my dear friends to move to San Francisco…possibly all while wearing a tutu.

*Cost-cutting begins after the Laguna trip, natch.

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August 6, 2009 at 10:00 am (Uncategorized)

BS: I’m oddly attracted to what’s-his-name

Work Friend: heh-yeah he’s kind of nerdy

BS: in a very bookish, scholarly kind of way
BS: like Cambridge/Oxford, not MIT

WF: yup-your type for sure

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I get like this

June 28, 2009 at 10:16 pm (Uncategorized)

I barely spoke to a soul until 8pm today. I mean, I talked to the dog, but he’s a better listener than most.

I was feeling very Garbo. VERY Garbo. I considered staying at my neighbors’ place (where I’m dog-sitting) all day just to avoid having to speak to anyone. I didn’t respond to emails. I barely responded to texts. And I was downright pleased when I slept through a call to meet a friend for drinks. It’s not polite or acceptable to admit these things, but I just. wanted. to be. alone.

And other than a brief interaction with Roommate who popped in to grab a bag, I was.

I am.

It was rejuvenating (have I mentioned I’m an introvert?). And it proved that the only thing keeping me from human interaction on any given day is my own desire for solitude.

Test #1 for finding my own place: Passed.

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Protected: I’ve become THAT co-worker

June 23, 2009 at 1:40 pm (Uncategorized)

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Color me green

June 15, 2009 at 10:56 am (Uncategorized)

I was at my parents’ house this past weekend. If I had to find one emotion to characterize those 48 hours, it would be envy. (Envy being jealousy’s benign cousin with more love in her heart and much better shoes.)

My mother’s last day of work, ever, was Friday. For 37 years she gave more than 100% to the kids she taught. But now she’s free to travel and volunteer and SLEEP IN. Last night I wondered what this morning would feel like for her. The first regular Monday when she didn’t have to set an alarm, choose something to wear, and get her head in the game to be Mrs. BS, Teacher. The first Monday where she could pee whenever she needed to pee.

Before dinner on Saturday we stopped in to have cocktails with the two couples my parents travel with. They’re rowdy and smart and adventurous and FUN. Not only was I treated to stories from last year’s trip to Greece, Croatia, and Italy, but also to the planning for this year’s to Copenhagen and St. Petersburg. If I didn’t have a trip to Germany planned in October, I wouldn’t have been able to take it.

The baby shower for a high school friend was lovely. Getting to meet another friend’s two-week-old son was amazing. These women are the kind of mothers I want to be and they make me see motherhood in my future. Not anytime soon, but someday. They didn’t make me want a baby, but they did make me want a man whose genes I want to mix with mine.

My father and I took the family dogs to the dog park on Sunday morning. I watched individuals and couples and families walk in with Boxers and German Shepherds and small herding dogs and tried not to cry from longing.

I self-medicated with $4 Korres products at Marshall’s and an extra-long phone conversation with the Ex-ALM.

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