You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August, 2008.
I’m sure when people searched these phrases, and clicked on the link, they were hugely disappointed. Sorry guys, I try.
Eventually, my blog will look like something other than a brown blob of words. I need another date with Krista, clearly. One where my computer works. Damnit.
Here’s the latest round of how people got here…
maui melon mint gum.
peeing “squat”
where to buy crayola giant chalks in manhattan
Well, I usually think “tagging” is a strange concept. Tag, over the internet. Is that possible? Either way, I recall a “survey” of sorts, similar to this in college. Remember those e-mails that would circulate. I loved them. I like filling them out and I really like reading other people’s answers. Well, here are mine. Enjoy. And uh, if you’ve got a blog and you’re reading this, I guess you’re tagged. 
A. Attached or Single? Attached. To a wonderful guy who makes me v. happy.
B. Best Friend? I already hated the phrase “best friend.” I don’t like qualifying my friendships. Is that a cop-out so I don’t make anyone mad? Who knows. Either way, I’ve got a lot of great friends, who I guess, are like my best friends. Can I have more than one BF? Hmm, I’m looking too hard into this one…
C. Cake or pie? Cake. I’m not a pie kind-of-gal. Unless it’s banana, chocolate or apple. Give me a good yellow cake-chocolate frosting cake anytime. Rarr.
D. Day of choice? Right now, sadly, it’s Tuesday. That’s my Friday. Anyone want to get drinks on a Tuesday night? Anyone. (insert cricket sound here).
E. Essential item? Cherry Carmex. The stick. Not the tube. If I realize I don’t have that on my being, I suddenly go into panic-mode and my lips feel like they’re shriveling up into themselves.
F. Favorite color? I’ve always been a neutral gal. Brown, White, Black. But I’m really starting to branch-off into the spectrum of colors. I like purple and red a lot.
G. Gummy bears or worms? Bears. I can pick out the horrible yellow and green ones. Orange isn’t that great either. I fish out all the reds and whites. I’m that girl. Sorry.
H. Hometown? Mukwonago, WI
I. Favorite indulgence? Shoes. Heels, flats, tennies, flip-flops… I love them all.
J. January or July? July. Summer is my season.
K. Kids? Kind of make me shiver. Usually they don’t like me. I think they’re cute and would like one or two some day. Key words: Some Day. I need a house and a husband first. Let’s get those out of the way.
L. Life isn’t complete without? Friends and Family. I wouldn’t be me without both of those essential things.
M. Marriage date? Are 2011 calendars for sale yet?
N. Number of brothers and sisters? One brother. He’s four years younger than me. I always think about how he’s getting “so old.” Then I realized I’m four years older than him. I shiver.
O. Oranges or Apples? Granny Smith apples with peanut butter.
P. Phobias? .Heights, missing deadlines, heights.. uh yeah, that about wraps that up.
Q. Quotes? “Good timber doesn’t grow with ease. The stronger the wind, the stronger the tree.”
R. Reasons to smile? It’s my Friday today. On a Thursday. After seven straight days of work. And the BF and I are going to NYC Saturday. Woo!
S. Season of choice? I really like Fall because of the wardrobe change… but I think I like Spring better. Flip flops are always on my feet.
T. Tag 5 people: If you’re reading this, you’re it.
U. Unknown fact about me? If I could switch careers, I’d want to be a Police Officer.
V. Vegetable? Carrots, corn. black beans, cucumbers, red peppers.
W. Worst habit? My mild self-diagnosed OCD. I have to check and re-check everything. You think I’m lying. Ask around.
X. X-ray or Ultrasound? Um. Neither.
Y. Your favorite food? I really like making home-made Reubens. Delish. Otherwise, I could probably eat chips and salsa until I exploded.
Z. Zodiac sign? .November baby. I’m a Scorpio. It fits me to a T.
A month ago, I discovered something so wonderful, so exciting… I nearly peed myself. Ok, not really… but listen up. Before moving back to Milwaukee, I had heard of Jazz in the Park. But what I thought it was… and what it turned out to be, two completely different things. Well, when I heard that it was a pretty cool place to just pop a squat on the grass with a six-pack or a bottle of wine, I thought, ‘hey, this is totally up my alley.’ I gathered up one of my bestest gal-pals, Tuck, and we were on our way.
Now, let me tell you how we planned for this event. We had one bottle of two-buck-Chuck from Trader Joe’s, a stained (with God knows what) UW-SP blanket to sit on, and a Ziploc bag (quart-sized) full of ice to keep our wine “chilled” and two 5 oz. Dixie cups to drink said wine out of. Yeah, Dixie cups. I didn’t have any classy “Solo” cups, and I wasn’t about to bring reeeal glasses. So, Tuck and I joked about how ghetto we were with our cups and bag of ice. Then, we got to the park. Boy. It was out of control. People brought tables, chairs, picnic baskets, buffets…candles. Really. We were shown up. Hell, no one told us it was sophisticated. Sheesh. Take a look. Here we are, at our first Jazz in the Park.
So, that was the 4th of July. Actually, the 3rd. But still. We had fun, and guzzled down that wine before the opening band was done introducing their group members. Ha. I was left wanting more. More from our drinking & music experience.
Well, my friends, we learned.
Fast-forward one month. Tuck’s 30th Birthday. We hadn’t been back to Jazz in the Park since our 4th fiasco. It was time to re-group and attack it again. The day started out fantastic.
That’s me, lighting 3 (a dividend of 30) candles. In a cheesecake kringle. I did make her an elaborate breakfast, this was as good as it got. I told Tuck I’d sing several times over the course of the day. This was #1. I look like hell. I just woke up. Give me a break.
We spent the day at Bayshore, shopping, eating delish Potbelly sammies for lunch, and talking about how excited we were for our upcoming evening.
You see, I prepared us this time. I had a big cooler. Two bottles of wine. Strawberries, cheese, crackers, Cheerio mix (dude, it’s good, trust me.), and a special birthday treat. I even bought this wine opener that was a “travel” opener. It had a stopper on it and everything. It was $3. Good thing I lifted weights earlier in the day. Getting that cork out of the first bottle was tough. That damn thing was definitely a $3 opener.
Ok, I don’t know how to rotate pictures here. Work with me. Just turn your head to the side. I was happy in this picture because I hadn’t really tried the process of “opening” just yet. Good thing Tuck was there. She held on to the bottle, while I pulled with all my might.
Guess what…. we had glasses too! And plates! All birthday-oriented. I rule.
Here’s our little get-up we had goin’ on. The fence behind us offered a nice place to rest our backs… and the cooler’s lid even had “cup rests” on the inside of it. Sweet! A Jazz in the Park neighbor was kind enough to snap this picture of us.
Then, day turned into night — and we were a bottle-and-a-half into our fun. Here’s that picture Looks a lot like the one above it. We’re just more “toasty” there.
Then, it was time. Time to light the candles on some fun birthday cupcakes I whipped up for Tuck. Yum! Ok, again, the picture isn’t rotated. I apologize. Really, I do.
So, all in all, a fantastic birthday for Tucky-Tuck, and a successful Jazz in the Park. Just enough snacks, plenty of wine and way more good company than a gal could ask for. I don’t know if Jazz in the Park is something I’d do every week. But it’s certainly a treat the one time a month when I do go. I recommend it. Heck, if you’re going… call me! I’ll bring the two-buck-Chuck. Delish.
So, I’m at my Mom’s house today, and had all the intention of cleaning out the inside of the Scion. Vacuum, windows, dash… you get the point. Yeah, all intentions, until I went out in the garage to look for Windex, and found this mondo box of Crayola chalk. I’m talkin’ giant chalk sticks, in a rainbow of colors. Not just blue and yellow or your other “regular” colors…
I’m talkin’ hot pink, lilac, marigold, caramel brown, grey!!! Oh my!!
I couldn’t resist. I sat down on the driveway, kid-style… you know, legs spread apart, like I’m stretchin’ my hammies. And I doodled. I made suns, flowers, my name, a dog, a string of Chrismas lights (so many colors!!!!), a martini glass, with a cosmo inside (obviously I’m a natural artist. Cough.).
It was brilliant. It calmed me and made me appreciate my childhood that much more. It’s been a loooooong time since I last played with chalk. And that artsy ‘relaxation’ was just what I needed today.
Cleaning the inside of the Scion… can wait.
Did you know I played that song as part of a half-time show set in high school marching band. (Shout-out to Kim. Haaaaay) Don’t judge. Marching band, at that time, was cooool. Well, at least the trumpets and drummers were. Crap. Good thing I, a clarinet, was welcomed in to the Cool Crew. Ha.
I digress. Late last week, the BF and I finally (finally) got through the OPENING CEREMONIES. Yes, I know, we’re about a week-and-a-half behind the WORLD… but hey, I worked the Friday of those opening ceremonies — and the BF didn’t get to see them live, either. And by the time we watched them — piece by piece — it was about a week later. Now that I’ve justified my lateness… all I can say, is “Wow.”
Seriously, I’m a very logistical person — I like calculating things out, making lists, etc. It’s the producer in me. So, when I saw all those amazing performers, thousands of them… I just couldn’t believe it. All in straight lines, all moving together, all with such a look of pride on their faces. I seriously think I said the word “wow” about 53 times watching those opening numbers. The Chinese in the boxes?!? Are you kiddin’ me?! I got chills and teared up about three times. Unbelievable. Really, the logistics of it all — amazes me. So, kudos to China, Beijing in particular, for putting on a fantastic show. Nothing like I’ve seen. Ever.
Ok, on to the competitions…. I try to watch as much as I can. My heart’s gone through a few minor heart-attacks… watching swimmers (Phelps!?!?), gymnasts and those table tennis folks who are, well, freaks of nature… trying to break world records and win gold medals. It makes me want to win gold medals. Oh wait, I won’t. Probably ever. Too bad, I’ll just live vicariously though Shawn Johnson. Hi. Can I squeeze you. Hard. Weee. You’re like 5 inches shorter than me. That’s short. And I’m not that tall. Ok, again, I digress.
One thing though, Ms. Gymnasts: Could you please, please, PLEASE upgrade your hair clips/scrunchies. Really, Goodies makes some great “no-slip” rubber bands, that would even match your hair colors. And, those “bend-y” metal clips are so 1992. I hear bobby pins work just as well, if not, better. Please. Help me, help you, move into 2008. Thanks.
Events in the Olys that I could live without: Synchronized diving. Seriously. Dumb. Event. Also, trampoline. Hi. I train to do flippies high in the air. You’re just askin’ for trouble… landing on your knee the wrong way. Chriminey. So yeah, those two… can go.
So yeah, all-in-all… Olympics has kind of taken over my life, for the time being. I’ve got a lot of shows DVR-ed, primed and ready for me to press, “play.”
But for now, I’ve gotta go do a run-through of my beam routine. I’ve got masking tape laid down on my living room floor.
This is something I’ve been milling over for a while now, but after this morning, I’ve got to get it off my chest.
Crocs are the stupidest piece of footwear ever. They’re everywhere. I was at a softball game last night, babies had them on, their siblings had them on — same color, just a bigger size. Then, I see their parents wearing them. I don’t get it. Flip-flops are out of style now? People think wearing lime green Crocs are cool? Blech. Granted, this is just an opinion, and no, I don’t own a pair, nor will I ever.They just look like you want to walk in a foot of water, then be able to attend a wedding in them, because they match your dress perfectly.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was today, while signing away my life for a set of four tires. A gentleman was waiting in line behind me. I looked at his outfit: A nice red shirt, tucked into his Dockers khakis, belted…with f’in’ RED CROCS on!?! Really, guy? You looked nice, until I got to your ankles.
Are Crocs a sign that people are just getting lazy? Like those plastic shoes are a stand-in for dress shoes? I don’t get it.
I just can’t wait until they are a thing of the past — kind of like jelly shoes. Oh wait, those came back in style. Looks like I’m probably stuck looking at Crocs for a long time to come. Crap.
It’s been nearly 11 years since my Dad died. It’s been about that long since his mom, my grandma, spoke to me, my brother or my mom. My Dad was the glue. For some reason or another, my grandma and that side of the family didn’t like my Mom. I still don’t get that one, my Mom is the damn easiest person to get along with and she’s wonderful. She’s my Mom, I’m biased, but still. So, like I said, my Dad, kept us all together. Then, everything came to a screeching halt when he died. My grandma, now living on the West coast, flew in to WI. She was cold to my family and just kept telling me how much I looked like my Dad. Ok, I get it. I have the traits from his side of the family. But I’m trying to grasp the fact that my Dad isn’t here anymore and you feeding this stuff into my head, at age 16, isn’t helping.
My grandma basically cut off all communication after she flew back out West. I can count the number of times I’ve seen her in the last 10 years. Hell, I think I’ve talked to her once, maybe twice since then. She called me once, on my 20th birthday, and asked when I was coming out to Vegas to gamble. When I told her I was only 20, there was a big silence. Suddenly, we had nothing to talk about anymore. She would start crying and talk about missing my Dad, and well, she ruined my birthday. I miss him everyday. Not a day goes by I don’t think about him. But for pete’s sake. It’s my birthday. I’m trying to be happy here.
Eventually, things got nasty. She told my Mom that she was cutting my brother and I out of her Will, because my Mom was still getting money from the government, which we were clearly entitled to. My Dad had a government job. That’s what happens when government workers die on the job. That doesn’t bring back my Dad. It doesn’t make life any easier. But it did send me through college. So, thanks for that Uncle Sam. Too bad my Dad wasn’t there to see me graduate.
My grandma’s first husband, my grandpa, committed suicide a few years back, after learning he had lung cancer. Hadn’t talked to him in years, either. (There’s a growing trend with that side of the family, huh?) Oh, I mentioned before, my Dad has three sisters. Last time I talked to them? I think Clinton was President (the start of his second term).
I mean really, you would think a death in the family would make you closer. It amazed me, because it was the exact opposite. No cards at Christmas, birthday cards stopped years ago. Hell, I could be married with 23 kids and they wouldn’t have a damn clue.
My grandma died over the weekend. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even think twice about it. The words rolled right off my back. I’m sad, though. Sad that I didn’t get to tell her exactly what I thought about the way she treated her grandkids. Not all of them, just my brother and me. It hurts. We’re her blood and she didn’t have the decency to respect and treasure that. I didn’t love her anymore. There was just so much disconnect and, well, disrespect.
I should be sad I only have one grandparent left. But ya know, that grandparent has treated me with more respect than she ever did. And for that, I’m grateful.
She was laid to rest today. And that’s exactly what she’ll do. She’ll rest. God’s the ultimate judge. But I hope He knows.
Oh buddy. The BF and I are headed to the city that never sleeps. That’s right, folks. New York City. (New York City?) We’ve talked about going somewhere, just the two of us, for about two years, now. It started with talks of going to London. But, as stated in my previous post, I don’t have a-grand to drop on a plane ticket to London. So, we started mapping (because that’s what Eric does) out places we could go — by plane, train and automobile. Well, that was about a year ago. We sat on it for a few months — and decided on NYC. We both have never been there, not so shocking that I’ve never trekked that way — but dude, Eric’s been all across the damn U.S. He grew up in a family that took those 30 hour car trips to Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore, etc.
We sat down one April day and googled the hell out of every hotel in the greater Rockefeller Plaza area. We settled on one and booked it all on one of those all-in-one websites. So, we fly out the last Saturday in August.
Despite everything being booked, I didn’t really get too excited about the trip at first, because until last Friday, I didn’t even know if I’d be able to get off from work. Long story short: the girls at work are really pulling through for me. Damn Harley and its damn 105th birthday.
Tomorrow, the BF and I will map out our master plan of what we want to do. Bus tours, a Broadway show, Conan O’Brien (already have those tickets), shopping, eating, drinking, Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero, Empire State Building, Chinatown, Seinfeld diner, Good Morning America, maybe Rachael Ray (if I can squeeze her in)….oh my. I’m excited. Eeeeee!! I’m sure the BF will Google Earth it all (he’s a nerd like that) — and I’ll write things down, itinerary style (I’m a nerd like that).
We shall have a grand time. Pictures to follow.
And by “it,” I mean, money and by “hot,” I mean, like I don’t have it.
I’m a struggling college student…young adult. I dream of the day when I’m not financially strapped anymore. When I can buy things that are $100 dollars and not bat an eye. But until then, I’m a frugal beast. I use things until there is no possible way it can be used anymore, ie: deodrant, toothpaste, flip flops from 2002, canned food… you get the picture. So, when my Goodyear man (because I have one) told me the Scion needed new tires. I laughed. I believe I actually laughed in his face. Not at him, of course, but at the thought that I’d have to drop several hundred dollars on my pretty car that I don’t have.
That “suggestion” by Mr. Goodyear was many months ago. “Sara, your tires are cupping (whatever that means) and the back tires don’t have a lot tread on them.” “Ok, thanks.” And I scurry out the door. All I came for was a damn oil change. Well, lo and behold, I go back in about 3 weeks ago. “Yeah, I’m not rotating your tires, Sara, they’re bad.” Great, so I didn’t listen the first time, so sue me. Does it look like I have a grand to throw around on things like tires. Well, it was then that I started fearing for my driving safety. The guy made it sound like my back tires were going to fall off at any given moment if I didn’t get those tires replaced RIGHT NOW! So, for about the last two weeks or so, I’ve driven extra careful, just incase. But hell, then I realize, ‘hey, it’s not like my axles are cracking (again, whatever that means.)’
Guess what I’m doing tomorrow morning at 8am? Yeah, that’s right, getting tires for the Scion. And it’s really fantastic, because my car is a sport-coupe, it takes wider, more specialized tires…at $170 a pop. (Note the sarcasm.) Yeah, do the math. Times four, add on fees to throw them away, align them and, oh yeah, balance them. Then there’s an extra hundred or so in taxes. I checked. I’m going to drop about a thousand dollars on this Beast. Not that I don’t love my car, or me for that matter, enough not to spend it. But hi. I’m going to NYC in a few weeks. That’s expensive. Oh, and the BF’s sister is getting married and that means gifts and whatnot. Expensive.
Good thing Goodyear’s got this great credit card I can sign up for, that will double my rebate per tire — and allow me not to have to scrounge up $1,000 in 17 hours.
The BF and I were talking about my apartment manager and his wife (or so we think it’s his wife.) Here’s the exchange that followed.
BF: Maybe they’re not married — maybe they’re common-law.
Me: That happens after 13 years, right?
BF: No, it’s 7 I think. We’re still a ways-away from that.
Me: Oh, so, is that you way out of a wedding — just waiting until we’re common law?
BF: Well, at least it’ll prove that you’ve really ‘got me.” (Chuckles.)
Funny, douche-bag. Very funny.
