In the last week the Phillies made their 2nd annual World Series appearance (I was able to attend Game 4 with my family. The Yankees are a bunch of whiners. They're a bought team full of players more concerned about posing while batting and dating celebrities than playing for the love of it. Ugh, I hate them.); and I turned 25.
As of yesterday, I am now 25 year of age.
I had the most amazing day at school. People spoiled me. We had a party in my classroom, Kindergarten came up to sing to me and gave me handmade cards, I got the best card from one of my students, and my coworkers were just unbelievably nice. I then came home and cooked dinner for friends. I made chicken marsala and past in a tomato basil sauce with vegetables. It turned out pretty good, and I was very happy that my friends made it out. (Yes, I cooked on my birthday. I love to cook. I love when people come over. One of my goals in life is to have people look forward to an annual party that I throw. I'm strange, I know that.) we also traversed out to the bar where I proceeded to drink a bit too much. But I had a pretty handsome escort home (a super sweet guy who worked out a deal to take off work on Friday as long as he worked overtime on Saturday. See? Super spoiled on my birthday).
Underlying all of these celebrations though was a slight edge of panic. I am 25. And not at all where I thought I would be in my life. I almost hyperventilated a few times, and definitely cried on my birthday. My friend told me that she had a conversation with a coworker who told her 25 was the only birthday that has caused panic so far. Apparently 30, 35, and 40 will be fine, but 25 makes you want to freak out. It so far is sitting like a boulder on my chest.
And overshadowing all of these silly feelings (because honestly, I'm the same as I was 2 days ago when I was still 24) is the impending birth of my friends' baby. And almost delivery today and maybe a delivery tomorrow. I can not wait to meet him or her! Aunt Lis wants to cuddle this babe already! I can only imagine how Kristin and Keith are feeling.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Deep Fried Butter.
Happy Sunday, dear friends and readers,
My favorite and least favorite day of the week. The day where it is OK to not have plans, and sit in front of your TV at 9am with a big mug of tea and a stack of coupons in front of you. And I suddenly sound 80-years-old. Awesome.
The last few days have been filled with peril for my relatively calm and sheltered life. There has been drama with cell phones, downpours in which the delineating lane markers were not visible on a highly busy street, bouts of hunger and tears (both taken care of by one very patient boyfriend who insisted on feeding me, rubbing my back, and loving me even at my grumpiest. Have I got it made or what?), and general back pain.
I will relate two stories from my weekend: the story of the pantry, and the story of the mouse (the rearmost of which just ran past me in broad daylight! Ick!)
The story of the pantry:
Background information: John has a Big Lots near his house, I do not have one near my apartment. I am a coupon clipping weirdo, and have turned John into a man who is now scanning his flyers more frequently and saving up to 50% on his bills at the store. I have been searching for a pantry for my kitchen because my kitchen does not have sufficient storage.
Actual Story: While sprawled all over John's comfortable furniture, being unusually quiet, and freaking John out because of it, said boyfriend gets his weekly bundle of store circulars and begins the weekly ritual of seeing what is on sale. He opens the Big Lots ads, and, lo and behold!, a pantry on sale for $60! Hooray! Being the sweet guy he is, he suggests that we go to Big Lots and check it out, and we'll take my car, that way I can take it home with me that night, and when we come back he'll make ravioli and tomato sauce (both of which we bought on sale last week). I agree. We make it to Big Lots and locate said pantry. We wait patiently for the only gentleman working in the furniture section to finish helping a woman with her TV stand and come back and wait on me. He locates the pantry in the back (not the full pantry, but the pieces in a box which will have to be assembled later), wheels it out, almost knocks it off the cart, and then rings me up. I swipe my card and am approved! The pantry is mine, muahahahahahaha. Only.... I can't just take it. He needs to hold onto my receipt and wheel the box to the front of the store himself to sign it out of the building. If he had said this to me it would have been cool. What instead occurred was this:
My favorite and least favorite day of the week. The day where it is OK to not have plans, and sit in front of your TV at 9am with a big mug of tea and a stack of coupons in front of you. And I suddenly sound 80-years-old. Awesome.
The last few days have been filled with peril for my relatively calm and sheltered life. There has been drama with cell phones, downpours in which the delineating lane markers were not visible on a highly busy street, bouts of hunger and tears (both taken care of by one very patient boyfriend who insisted on feeding me, rubbing my back, and loving me even at my grumpiest. Have I got it made or what?), and general back pain.
I will relate two stories from my weekend: the story of the pantry, and the story of the mouse (the rearmost of which just ran past me in broad daylight! Ick!)
The story of the pantry:
Background information: John has a Big Lots near his house, I do not have one near my apartment. I am a coupon clipping weirdo, and have turned John into a man who is now scanning his flyers more frequently and saving up to 50% on his bills at the store. I have been searching for a pantry for my kitchen because my kitchen does not have sufficient storage.
Actual Story: While sprawled all over John's comfortable furniture, being unusually quiet, and freaking John out because of it, said boyfriend gets his weekly bundle of store circulars and begins the weekly ritual of seeing what is on sale. He opens the Big Lots ads, and, lo and behold!, a pantry on sale for $60! Hooray! Being the sweet guy he is, he suggests that we go to Big Lots and check it out, and we'll take my car, that way I can take it home with me that night, and when we come back he'll make ravioli and tomato sauce (both of which we bought on sale last week). I agree. We make it to Big Lots and locate said pantry. We wait patiently for the only gentleman working in the furniture section to finish helping a woman with her TV stand and come back and wait on me. He locates the pantry in the back (not the full pantry, but the pieces in a box which will have to be assembled later), wheels it out, almost knocks it off the cart, and then rings me up. I swipe my card and am approved! The pantry is mine, muahahahahahaha. Only.... I can't just take it. He needs to hold onto my receipt and wheel the box to the front of the store himself to sign it out of the building. If he had said this to me it would have been cool. What instead occurred was this:
"OK, honey, I have to take this to the front of the store. So why don't you just go meet me up there, and have your hubby bring his car around, and then we'll do all the lifiting." Said man in back brace wheels off, again almost dropping the pantry.
John immediately cringed and tried to make a joke about being my 'hubby.' I walked shocked, my feminist nature seething. I asked John if I should drive MY car to the front of the store where he could wait for me. He agreed and reminded me that he didn't make the comment (he should have also reminded me of his traditional-gender role reversal of cooking for me the night before, that morning, and when we were to return from the store. See? I have it made.). John saved my pantry from almost falling again when being removed from the store (seriously, if this guy had just put the box on the long side instead of the tiny bottom part there would have been no issue), and we loaded it into my car. John didn't think I'd be able to carry it into my apartment by myself since it was very heavy. I fumed a little more and we dropped the subject.
Later that evening, I carried the pantry all by myself from my car to my apartment. I then assembled said pantry using my tools. It is now sitting nicely in my apartment, filled with food.
Later that evening, I carried the pantry all by myself from my car to my apartment. I then assembled said pantry using my tools. It is now sitting nicely in my apartment, filled with food.
So suck it, Big Lots Man.
The Story of the Mouse (Ick!)
I have a mouse in my apartment. While this is to be expected in apartments no matter how clean the place is, it is still unnerving and gross to see a tiny little fuzzy creature run right in front of you. This mouse is a genius. I have traps set up in my apartment. Traps with big globs of yummy peanut butter. This mouse runs right past the traps. It runs from under my heater in the living room, to behind my refrigerator, and to my bathroom. I think in the bathroom he goes through the heating unit on the wall and into my neighbor's apartment. He then runs back about 20 minutes to an hour later. This mouse is bold. he gets withing 6 inches of me. And runs past me in broad daylight. This is war, mouse. This is war.
Any advice you may have on combating sneaky, intelligent vermin would be vastly appreciated. IT JUST RAN PAST ME AGAIN.
WAR!
The Story of the Mouse (Ick!)
I have a mouse in my apartment. While this is to be expected in apartments no matter how clean the place is, it is still unnerving and gross to see a tiny little fuzzy creature run right in front of you. This mouse is a genius. I have traps set up in my apartment. Traps with big globs of yummy peanut butter. This mouse runs right past the traps. It runs from under my heater in the living room, to behind my refrigerator, and to my bathroom. I think in the bathroom he goes through the heating unit on the wall and into my neighbor's apartment. He then runs back about 20 minutes to an hour later. This mouse is bold. he gets withing 6 inches of me. And runs past me in broad daylight. This is war, mouse. This is war.
Any advice you may have on combating sneaky, intelligent vermin would be vastly appreciated. IT JUST RAN PAST ME AGAIN.
WAR!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
It's been a while
Between the start of the school year, moving into a new apartment, Phillies postseason madness, and general life occurrences (babies, engagements, looking to go back to school, and police boyfriends - only the last two being mine), I have been severely neglectful of this blog.
So in this moment I will leave you with this brief story:
One of my students is fixated on curse words. He will find any way possible to work them into his school work, artwork, and computer programs. One day he was in the library with his homeroom class and was flipping through a rather large dictionary. He found the braille alphabet and proceeded to write one word over and over using braille. Below is what he wrote:
The ingenuity of children fascinates me. Especially when used to do something naughty that they know will get them a whole lot of attention and reaction from adults.
So I leave you with 2 tasks, dear friends:
1) Do your research and find what my buddy wrote. It isn't that hard to do.
2) Think about how you would react to such a thing. It was all I could do not to laugh. We in fact had to take away the paper (although it really could do no harm- the 'braille' he wrote was with a pencil), but don't you want to just reward the kid for his out-of-the-box thinking? Ah, the conundrums of being an educator.
So in this moment I will leave you with this brief story:
One of my students is fixated on curse words. He will find any way possible to work them into his school work, artwork, and computer programs. One day he was in the library with his homeroom class and was flipping through a rather large dictionary. He found the braille alphabet and proceeded to write one word over and over using braille. Below is what he wrote:
The ingenuity of children fascinates me. Especially when used to do something naughty that they know will get them a whole lot of attention and reaction from adults.
So I leave you with 2 tasks, dear friends:
1) Do your research and find what my buddy wrote. It isn't that hard to do.
2) Think about how you would react to such a thing. It was all I could do not to laugh. We in fact had to take away the paper (although it really could do no harm- the 'braille' he wrote was with a pencil), but don't you want to just reward the kid for his out-of-the-box thinking? Ah, the conundrums of being an educator.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Week long migraine
Click on picture to enlarge.
PS- Bill Watterson, you are a hero of mine. If I should need to remove this picture, I will do so.
Friday, August 21, 2009
"You know that guy who lives on the 2nd house from the corner? We call him Short Pants."
Things I have accomplished in the past 27 hours:
- Seeing every exhibit currently available at the Philadelphia Zoo
- Making my boyfriend uncomfortable by making him go into the Lorikeet
exhibit and feed them by hand from a nectar cup. He did relax a bit as the moments passed, but the look on his face was priceless. Although I can't blame him. I was prepared seeing as I had done it before. He was, well, not. Seriously, try being unprepared for 8 of these things to immediately fly in your face and perch on your outstretched arm:
- Realizing that I make said boyfriend touch a large quantity of living creatures while acting like its a nonchalant adventure (we went to the Adventure Aquarium a few months ago. I made him touch sharks, live shrimp, jellyfish, and other assorted sea creatures)
-Finished reading My Lobotomy. It is unreal at what some people go through in life.
- Started a brand new book.
Things I have NOT accomplished in the past 27 hours:
- Sleeping. At all. I pulled an unnecessary, unwanted all nighter
- Starting a load of laundry
- Making phonecalls and e-mails related to my job and schooling
- Did I mention sleeping? Yikes this is rough.
Currently Reading: Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed by Mo Willems, and The Condition by Jennifer Haigh
- Seeing every exhibit currently available at the Philadelphia Zoo
- Making my boyfriend uncomfortable by making him go into the Lorikeet
exhibit and feed them by hand from a nectar cup. He did relax a bit as the moments passed, but the look on his face was priceless. Although I can't blame him. I was prepared seeing as I had done it before. He was, well, not. Seriously, try being unprepared for 8 of these things to immediately fly in your face and perch on your outstretched arm:- Realizing that I make said boyfriend touch a large quantity of living creatures while acting like its a nonchalant adventure (we went to the Adventure Aquarium a few months ago. I made him touch sharks, live shrimp, jellyfish, and other assorted sea creatures)
-Finished reading My Lobotomy. It is unreal at what some people go through in life.
- Started a brand new book.
Things I have NOT accomplished in the past 27 hours:
- Sleeping. At all. I pulled an unnecessary, unwanted all nighter
- Starting a load of laundry
- Making phonecalls and e-mails related to my job and schooling
- Did I mention sleeping? Yikes this is rough.
Currently Reading: Naked Mole Rat Gets Dressed by Mo Willems, and The Condition by Jennifer Haigh
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Knowing is half the battle
G.I. Joe tried to do too much. And it didn't have any PSA's at the end about not taking unknown pills from the medicine cabinet or recycling or being nice to your neighbors and pets.
Also, this blog sucks. I thought I could start this to get some creative juices flowing again. Relate some of the hilarity that occurs on a daily basis in my life. Only nothing has really happened since starting this. It's just mindless dribble that means naught. Oh Christ, not another self deprecating woe-is-me blog...
Also, this blog sucks. I thought I could start this to get some creative juices flowing again. Relate some of the hilarity that occurs on a daily basis in my life. Only nothing has really happened since starting this. It's just mindless dribble that means naught. Oh Christ, not another self deprecating woe-is-me blog...
Police officers are a weird crew/ "I ain't no sasquatch."
Dear Women of the World,
Strapless bras. Double stick tape. Backless bras. Proper fit. Accentuated waists. Flattering colors. Only showing off one part of your body at a time. Proper lengths of clothing.
These are all things you should have in your arsenal. Please invest. Especially in proper bras and double stick tape. They are your friends. Really.
Looooooooove,
Lisbeth
PS- I have a wonderfully fantastic boyfriend who took care of me today when I was feeling a bit under the weather. He even cooked me breakfast at 3pm, and watched endless amounts of bad reality shows with me (and only complained about it every 5 minutes or so).
Currently Reading: My Lobotomy
Going to see: G.I. Joe
Strapless bras. Double stick tape. Backless bras. Proper fit. Accentuated waists. Flattering colors. Only showing off one part of your body at a time. Proper lengths of clothing.
These are all things you should have in your arsenal. Please invest. Especially in proper bras and double stick tape. They are your friends. Really.
Looooooooove,
Lisbeth
PS- I have a wonderfully fantastic boyfriend who took care of me today when I was feeling a bit under the weather. He even cooked me breakfast at 3pm, and watched endless amounts of bad reality shows with me (and only complained about it every 5 minutes or so).
Currently Reading: My Lobotomy
Going to see: G.I. Joe
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
"The rock is now officially mine!"
Have you ever had the feeling that one day you will wake up and know what it is to be a grownup? Suddenly you will be able to do your hair every morning, and not have chipped nail polish for 3 months straight, and you will be able to locate an apartment at a decent price that does not consist of 1 room in a nice area or 4 rooms in a rather scary neighborhood? I thought one day I would just wake up and know how to be, well, an adult. I'm 24. I feel like I'm still 16. I'm saving up money to move out of my parents (which I feel awful about), and wish someone would just say "Oh, here's a great place to live. And you'll never guess this- you can afford it! Hooray!" I am determined to get the ball rolling before November and the 25th celebration of my birth. Eep.
Off to a Philadelphia Police benefit tonight at the FOP. I'll be the girl in black, drinking her pretty little head off, while being introduced to her boyfriend's police academy buddies. That sounds awful, but I'm fairly convinced I'll have a good time. We shall certainly see.
Signing off for now,
Lisbeth
PS- if anyone finds a manual on how to be an adult, please let me know.
PPS- for some reason in my head I'm reading this post as if I have a British accent.
Currently Reading: My Lobotomy by Howard Dully (and Charles Fleming)
Off to a Philadelphia Police benefit tonight at the FOP. I'll be the girl in black, drinking her pretty little head off, while being introduced to her boyfriend's police academy buddies. That sounds awful, but I'm fairly convinced I'll have a good time. We shall certainly see.
Signing off for now,
Lisbeth
PS- if anyone finds a manual on how to be an adult, please let me know.
PPS- for some reason in my head I'm reading this post as if I have a British accent.
Currently Reading: My Lobotomy by Howard Dully (and Charles Fleming)
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
A simple greeting
First things first: Hello, to those of you stumbling upon this simple, frivolous blog. Welcome to you.
Secondly, a confession: I have used 'blogging' sites before, but for nothing more than public journal keeping. A way to relate the day to friends and compatriots, although now that I have abandoned that site, I keep getting an increasingly large amount of e-mail notifications of people from central European countries (is 'Slavic States' an alright term or shall I be cut down quickly at daring to write such a thing?) befriending me. I think it must be a ruse to get their friend counts up... and now I have completely lost where I am going with this. Hmmm. Ah yes! I have used blogging sites before, but I am hoping for a new start here. Using my real name (how foolish). Chronicling what befalls me in life, love, and work. But perhaps not all of it.
Third: I babble. It happens. I have a great deal of trouble 'killing my darlings' as it were.
Fourthly: I think I should finish this up, right now.
Secondly, a confession: I have used 'blogging' sites before, but for nothing more than public journal keeping. A way to relate the day to friends and compatriots, although now that I have abandoned that site, I keep getting an increasingly large amount of e-mail notifications of people from central European countries (is 'Slavic States' an alright term or shall I be cut down quickly at daring to write such a thing?) befriending me. I think it must be a ruse to get their friend counts up... and now I have completely lost where I am going with this. Hmmm. Ah yes! I have used blogging sites before, but I am hoping for a new start here. Using my real name (how foolish). Chronicling what befalls me in life, love, and work. But perhaps not all of it.
Third: I babble. It happens. I have a great deal of trouble 'killing my darlings' as it were.
Fourthly: I think I should finish this up, right now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)