First dish for Christmas dinner made and ready to bake on the day. The most fattening mashed potatoes ever. Nom nom.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
How cold is it?
It's so cold that:
- This morning I got one of those cold weather, dry air nosebleeds. (I subsequently learned that a super plus tampon does not fit in my nose, only the slimmer regular size.) ANYHOO, after I managed to stop the bleeding (it were a gusher, that one) I left the apartment to head to work. The residual blood dried, then FROZE, and my nostril glued itself shut. I froze my nose closed. (Say that 3 times fast.) It was uncomfortable, to say the least. If someone could have videoed me on the bus, they would have seen some strange facial expressions. I couldn't blow my nose for fear of a re-bleed, so I just had to let it itch and feel sticky.
- A sub zero freezer in your kitchen is redundant.
- If the ice on the sidewalks could get any colder, it would become a new, even slipperier form of ice. Which it was.
- My super ugly, clunky LL Bean Goretex lined winter boots are my favorite shoes, but they are starting to smell from constant use.
- I've pulled out my old flannel lined khakis which are now my new favorite pants.
- They are not very sexy, however.
- It is impossible to dress cute when it's this cold.
- It's 86 degrees F warmer in Austin. That totally freaks me out.
- As does the fact that the heating in our apartment has to get it at last 68 degrees warmer inside than out.
- I sneer at your air conditioners that cool to a mere 20-25 degrees cooler than outside temperatures!
- A friend of mine got stuck in Paris en route back from Houston to Oslo. He arrived there early Sunday morning. Due to the flight chaos, he finally got back after midnight last night. He was delayed THREE DAYS.
- I am thankful that Norway and Scandinavia in general know how to work an airport in cold weather.
- Argh.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
cold
cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold BRRRRR cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Lanvin for H&M
At h&m. Tons of Lanvin left. It's all very very poofy and short. Good for the really skinny petite girlies, age 15-24 with lots of money and a sense of poofy drama. (Great for below zero weather in Norway, too). (not.) All very delicate and beautiful, very French, very impractical. I don't think you wear it so much as it wears you. Probably very collectible, though.
Not good for the large sized girl I saw last night wearing it, it made her look like a colorful barrel, and that impression was not helped by the fact that at the small bar I went to, she was like a pushy bull in a china shop. If she would have knocked into me one more time without saying "Excuse me", her Lanvin would have had some bad things happen to the very delicate tulle straps that held it up.
All that being said, the 18 year old me would have LOVED this. And the 18 year old me could've worn the shit out of it, too.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
In which the Christmas cheer has escaped me
Well, hell. Christmas is NEXT WEEK (Saturday?) and you would so not be able to tell that it was that close if you saw my house.
And you probably won't be able to tell on the day, either.
They've been working on our apartment building, which, if you remember from past experience with us, means chaos and destruction. Why we end up living in places that they then tear up around us will be a mystery I can never solve. At least, this time, there will be visible results of the work, as it is a renovation of this beautiful old building and not a retrofit of a badly built new one. So far the stairs in the building are completely stripped, from floor to ceiling, including rails. The windows are out, covered in plastic. There's scaffolding on the building. The roof is being replaced. And the old chimneys are being fixed as well, and guess who ended up with a hole in the wall so they could explore the chimney flue? So random people are running up and around our apartment building at all times, knocking on the door so they can peer yet again up the chimney, tearing holes in the wall and then restucco-ing and repainting. It's a mess up in here. Furniture and stuff scattered all around and stucco dust everywhere, even though they try to clean regularly.
So no Christmas stuff up because we kind of can't because workers keep having to come in to tear stuff down.
Then last night, Rich sprained the shit out of his ankle on the way back from the pub. (The fact he was drunk was a blessing and a curse: he might not have sprained it had he not been drinking but he sure felt no pain and was oddly pleasant when he got home, like "Gee, lookee there, that's kinda swollen, in'it?"). So today, instead of cleaning the apartment and getting a semblance of Christmas cheer going, with him as my Lovely Assistant getting stuff out of the cellar, we are going to the legevakt (weekend/all hours doctor) to make sure he's not too badly injured. This may also put the kibosh on our trip to Spain next week. Guess I should mention it is snowing like crazy outside?
And next week at work is going to be busy, even though my two direct bosses are gone on holiday, I have to do some other stuff for the Big Boss which will take a lot of research and thinking. I was gonna try to bunk off a day or so, but now it seems like maybe not.
So, can someone send me some Christmas cheer, please? I'm running out of time and don't see how I'm gonna get mine up and sparkling!
And you probably won't be able to tell on the day, either.
They've been working on our apartment building, which, if you remember from past experience with us, means chaos and destruction. Why we end up living in places that they then tear up around us will be a mystery I can never solve. At least, this time, there will be visible results of the work, as it is a renovation of this beautiful old building and not a retrofit of a badly built new one. So far the stairs in the building are completely stripped, from floor to ceiling, including rails. The windows are out, covered in plastic. There's scaffolding on the building. The roof is being replaced. And the old chimneys are being fixed as well, and guess who ended up with a hole in the wall so they could explore the chimney flue? So random people are running up and around our apartment building at all times, knocking on the door so they can peer yet again up the chimney, tearing holes in the wall and then restucco-ing and repainting. It's a mess up in here. Furniture and stuff scattered all around and stucco dust everywhere, even though they try to clean regularly.
So no Christmas stuff up because we kind of can't because workers keep having to come in to tear stuff down.
Then last night, Rich sprained the shit out of his ankle on the way back from the pub. (The fact he was drunk was a blessing and a curse: he might not have sprained it had he not been drinking but he sure felt no pain and was oddly pleasant when he got home, like "Gee, lookee there, that's kinda swollen, in'it?"). So today, instead of cleaning the apartment and getting a semblance of Christmas cheer going, with him as my Lovely Assistant getting stuff out of the cellar, we are going to the legevakt (weekend/all hours doctor) to make sure he's not too badly injured. This may also put the kibosh on our trip to Spain next week. Guess I should mention it is snowing like crazy outside?
And next week at work is going to be busy, even though my two direct bosses are gone on holiday, I have to do some other stuff for the Big Boss which will take a lot of research and thinking. I was gonna try to bunk off a day or so, but now it seems like maybe not.
So, can someone send me some Christmas cheer, please? I'm running out of time and don't see how I'm gonna get mine up and sparkling!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Blah-g
Not much to report, peeps.
It's FUCKING COLD still, with the added interest of some ice which seems have layered itself all over. This started on Friday night, when, coming home from Rich's company party (which was fun, I must say) it sleeted/rained/iced on us as we slid our way down the hill to catch the train. Have you ever been covered by ice? Me neither, until Friday night, and I swear, it felt exactly like you would think a freeze ray gun blast would feel. Icy, sticky, with a crunchy sound as you move and the ice crackles. Then when you are on the train it melts and steams off you and you end up looking like a bedraggled mess.
So that's why I am not going outside today, even though the sun is out. Because I don't want to SKATE, yo. And honestly I am perfectly happy to stay inside, do some desultory house cleaning, and then in a few hours I will do prep for dinner, a favorite dish I found and altered from a cookbook my friend Margaret gave me looong ago. It's basically fried chicken in a tomato and mushroom sauce with a vodka deglaze, but it's damned yummy.
Rich is brave, he's going out to find a book he wants. Stores are open on Sundays in Norway for the three weeks heading up to Christmas. Which is nice, if you actually can be arsed to get up and go to them. I, seemingly, cannot be arsed, today, and will remain sitting on mine on this lovely black and white floral Ikea sofa that I just fluffed and dusted.
It's FUCKING COLD still, with the added interest of some ice which seems have layered itself all over. This started on Friday night, when, coming home from Rich's company party (which was fun, I must say) it sleeted/rained/iced on us as we slid our way down the hill to catch the train. Have you ever been covered by ice? Me neither, until Friday night, and I swear, it felt exactly like you would think a freeze ray gun blast would feel. Icy, sticky, with a crunchy sound as you move and the ice crackles. Then when you are on the train it melts and steams off you and you end up looking like a bedraggled mess.
So that's why I am not going outside today, even though the sun is out. Because I don't want to SKATE, yo. And honestly I am perfectly happy to stay inside, do some desultory house cleaning, and then in a few hours I will do prep for dinner, a favorite dish I found and altered from a cookbook my friend Margaret gave me looong ago. It's basically fried chicken in a tomato and mushroom sauce with a vodka deglaze, but it's damned yummy.
Rich is brave, he's going out to find a book he wants. Stores are open on Sundays in Norway for the three weeks heading up to Christmas. Which is nice, if you actually can be arsed to get up and go to them. I, seemingly, cannot be arsed, today, and will remain sitting on mine on this lovely black and white floral Ikea sofa that I just fluffed and dusted.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Equilibrium
It always takes me a few days to get back to 'normal' (whatever that is for me) after a trip home. I mean, let's face it, I have a foot on both sides of the ocean, one home in Texas, and one here, and whenever I go home it always upsets the balance and I have a hard time re-adjusting to being back in Norway. When I am in Austin (and to some extent, Missouri with my parents) I miss Norway and when I am here I miss Texas. It will always be thus, my life has been changed, and I have to allow myself the adjustment period. Once I have that time, I am fine. Just JimDandy fine.
But FUCK did I have a hard time getting back this time. I can't be awake for that long. It was like, 36 hours. And to have to deal with mean insane cab drivers when I was that tired, it just put me over the edge. For me, sleep is the most important factor of my ability to cope. I CANNOT function if I am overtired. Just can't. When I am tired I am just a big nerve, raw and exposed. Like, if I was ever captured and held for torture? All they'd have to do is this:
Bad guy: We have captured you and are going to torture you.
Me: Bring it on, bitch. What's it gonna be? Red hot pokers? Water torture? Smack me around some?
Bad guy: Worse. We are gonna keep you up two hours after your bed time.
Me: (wimper) Nooo! Uncle! Uncle! I'll tell you whatever you want! The microchip is in my sock drawer!! The plans are on this flash drive!!! Just, please....Don't take my bedtime away!
But I am back now, I've gotten some sleep (though not enough, never enough) and have a bit of balance again. Saw some friends Saturday night, that was good. Even avoided a hangover. (Wonder if jet lag cancels out a hangover?) Went back to work today, was glad to see all my awesome coworkers, and even the heat being out in the office when it is minus 15 C outside wasn't a big problem, I preferred to see it as invigorating.
So I am sitting here with a glass of rosé, which is much easier to get here than in the States, eating the leftover Beef Borguinogne that Rich made last night (I know, awesome right?), watching some wierd ass show called Wipe Out and will go have a bath soon (something I tend not to get when I travel.)
Even the cold isn't so bad. I mean yeah, it's bloody freaking cold out there, but somehow the cold doesn't bother me too much, that is what coats are for.
Equilibrium. Nice to get it back.
But FUCK did I have a hard time getting back this time. I can't be awake for that long. It was like, 36 hours. And to have to deal with mean insane cab drivers when I was that tired, it just put me over the edge. For me, sleep is the most important factor of my ability to cope. I CANNOT function if I am overtired. Just can't. When I am tired I am just a big nerve, raw and exposed. Like, if I was ever captured and held for torture? All they'd have to do is this:
Bad guy: We have captured you and are going to torture you.
Me: Bring it on, bitch. What's it gonna be? Red hot pokers? Water torture? Smack me around some?
Bad guy: Worse. We are gonna keep you up two hours after your bed time.
Me: (wimper) Nooo! Uncle! Uncle! I'll tell you whatever you want! The microchip is in my sock drawer!! The plans are on this flash drive!!! Just, please....Don't take my bedtime away!
But I am back now, I've gotten some sleep (though not enough, never enough) and have a bit of balance again. Saw some friends Saturday night, that was good. Even avoided a hangover. (Wonder if jet lag cancels out a hangover?) Went back to work today, was glad to see all my awesome coworkers, and even the heat being out in the office when it is minus 15 C outside wasn't a big problem, I preferred to see it as invigorating.
So I am sitting here with a glass of rosé, which is much easier to get here than in the States, eating the leftover Beef Borguinogne that Rich made last night (I know, awesome right?), watching some wierd ass show called Wipe Out and will go have a bath soon (something I tend not to get when I travel.)
Even the cold isn't so bad. I mean yeah, it's bloody freaking cold out there, but somehow the cold doesn't bother me too much, that is what coats are for.
Equilibrium. Nice to get it back.
Friday, December 03, 2010
Anatatomy of a Clusterfuck: The Twitter files
Just for shits and grins, here are all my Twitter posts over the length of my very loooooong trip back to Oslo. (The day culminated, fyi, in a cab driver screaming at me because he thought my luggage was too heavy. When Rich met me outside the apartment building when the cab stopped, I got out and burst into tears when he hugged me. The cab driver got out and started yelling at me again, and Rich nearly took his head off. (That was satisfying.) If i hadn't of been so tired and demoralized, I would've been turned on.)
Anyhow, read down for the whole sad Twitter saga of the Trip From Hell (London to Oslo Portion).
The Texpatriate
And to end the day, the cab driver was an wanker and screamed at me. Today sucked arse.
The Texpatriate
Ok, yeah, its ass cold here in Oslo but somehow I can deal. Don't know why, but its not so bad....has my blood thinned?
»
The Texpatriate
I'm too tired to deal with the extreme culture shock I am feeling right now. Wanna go back home to Texas. Where its warm & ppl say scuse me.
»
The Texpatriate
Yep. Back in Norway. Had 2 people shove me and a door slammed in my face. Why do they have to always be first?
»
The Texpatriate
This BA pilot is a bit of a jokester. Not sure why he is so chatty and in a good mood, but I rather appreciate it. Now get me home!!!
»
The Texpatriate
Am finally on a plane. Have been at #lhr for 12.5 hours. Pretty sure I don't ever want to do this again.
16 hours ago
The Texpatriate
All domestic and short haul flts out of #lhr canceled after 1900. My flt is at 1855. Just barely squeaked by: gate is open. Whew?!
»
by texpatriate
@texpatriate Bless your stinky, stringy-haired ass.
»
The Texpatriate
I could go have a shower, but then I'd have to put my stank ass clothes back on, defeating the purpose. 12 hours at #lhr is enough.
»
The Texpatriate
@Blogography Not on the plane yet, just wishful retweeting of @LouisCK. Oh to be drunk AND on a plane.
»
Louis C.K.
by texpatriate
On a plane. A lil drunk. Just a lil.
>>
The Texpatriate
@kory Perhaps, but only the English can fuck up something this spectacularly. When things go smooth, brilliant. When they don't? Chaos.
»
The Texpatriate
@PineCurtainGal I'm there, too with the smells. I want a bath SO bad. Ever seen me with stringy hair? You could now. I'm disgusting. #lhr
»
The Texpatriate
@louisck WISHING I was on a plane, but stuck at airport due to snow (one fucking cm in London.) But I am drunk too....solidarity!
»
The Texpatriate
Ever been so tired you think you might barf? Me neither, but I think I am almost there. #noplacelikehome
19 hours ago
The Texpatriate
I have that "not so fresh" feeling. Woke myself up snoring on a sofa in BA lounge, to find drool. Sexy international traveler's life.
»
The Texpatriate
The conversations you hear in the business class lounge. "Do we have enough capital for Poland?" I bloody hope so, mate.
»
The Texpatriate
@elmadaeu Usually BA treat me well. Am surprised by how badly they have handled this. Mightily surprised.
The Texpatriate
Flight cancelled. Ba won't rebook. They are making me go thru customs immigration bag reclaim and start from scratch!!!!!! Fucking shit!
»
The Texpatriate
Flt lhr to oslo cancelled. BA supremely unhelpful. They are making me feel stabby.
»
The Texpatriate
Pretty sure we are now driving this plane across England. My God where is the gate already?
»
The Texpatriate
Landed at very snowy Heathrow. Let's hope I can get back out. The English can't handle snow....I sense trouble ahead.
»
The Texpatriate
Damn. Just stepping foot on a plane makes me gassy. Well, that and the champagne. (Burp) (fffrrrp)
1 Dec
The Texpatriate
Wifi out at BA lounge at DFW. They say it's been so all day. Well, um...fix it? That is why I want to use the lounge!!!! #dfwfail
»
The Texpatriate
My parents watched me go thru security to see any junk touching. Anticlimactic. TSA lady apologized when I said my folks wanted a show.
»
The Texpatriate
Hmmph. Was all ready to get self righteous over my junk, but TSA security was a doddle. Not even a frisk! Feel gypped!
»
texpatriate The Texpatriate
I don't wanna fly today. Don't wanna don't WANNA. (throws 4 year old's temper tantrum) noooooooo!!!!!!!
1 Dec
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Clusterfuck
Wow. I can't believe what I have just been through.
I left Missouri yesterday (?...time is a bit meaningless right now). Everything went smooth as butter: my parents' car didn't break down (a hazard in our family, what with the collection of 'interesting' cars), check in was fine, there was no groping of junk by TSA, no matter how hard I tried. Flight to Dallas equally seamless, though the business class lounge there kind of sucks, mostly because the internet was down. Flight from Dallas to was quick and comfortable, though some Irish woman talked loudly non-stop during the sleeping portion of the trip, loud enough that I could hear every word through ear plugs AND headphones.
And then I got to London. Which is where all my built up good travel karma went out the window.
My flight to Oslo was cancelled. Due to a millimeter or so of snow in London. I found this out after security, which I waited an age for. I decided to repair to the business lounge to regroup, get some help, and get a snack. They wouldn't let me into the business lounge because my ticket was cancelled, thus not making me a card carrying entrant to the lounge. WTF? Seriously? YOU cancel my flight, I come to you to fix it and then you tell me that because I don't have a flight I am not your customer and I get left out in the cold? WTF???
I went to customer service and it got worse. Customer service couldn't rebook my flight and told me I had to start all over, from scratch, as if I was just coming in to the airport. Huh? SAS just automatically rebooks you, WTF is this shit?
I had to: Go down and around to arrivals. Fill in landing card and go through passport control as if I was arriving in England to stay. Get my luggage. Take luggage through customs. Go to Departures hall. Wait in very long line with said luggage to rebook flight as if it was from scratch. Flight rebooked but 7 hours after original flight. Check in again. Go through Security (third time). Get 'randomly chosen' to have a body scan. Told them I didn't want to. They said no scan no fly. I pitched a royal fit, told them I had been through security THREE times already, TODAY, AT HEATHROW and when they told me to pose for the scan with my arms out I believe you can imagine which fingers I had extended. I try to be friendly and try to be accomodating to strangers and so on, but this was the ABSOLUTE last straw. I hope they enjoy the naked pictures of me.
I finally made it through all that, took my new boarding pass up to the business lounge, and am now on my second VERY LARGE glass of Gruner Vetliner (tasty, too) and am then going to avail myself of the free 15 minute spa treatment. Will then fall asleep on some sofa or other, and thence to dinner at Wagamama at T5, until my flight later this evening.
I smell bad, I'm tired, my hair looks flat and stringy, I'm tired, I'm a bit drunk, my skin is oily, my makeup mostly rubbed off, I feel icky and I want to be home and have a bath, dammit.
I left Missouri yesterday (?...time is a bit meaningless right now). Everything went smooth as butter: my parents' car didn't break down (a hazard in our family, what with the collection of 'interesting' cars), check in was fine, there was no groping of junk by TSA, no matter how hard I tried. Flight to Dallas equally seamless, though the business class lounge there kind of sucks, mostly because the internet was down. Flight from Dallas to was quick and comfortable, though some Irish woman talked loudly non-stop during the sleeping portion of the trip, loud enough that I could hear every word through ear plugs AND headphones.
And then I got to London. Which is where all my built up good travel karma went out the window.
My flight to Oslo was cancelled. Due to a millimeter or so of snow in London. I found this out after security, which I waited an age for. I decided to repair to the business lounge to regroup, get some help, and get a snack. They wouldn't let me into the business lounge because my ticket was cancelled, thus not making me a card carrying entrant to the lounge. WTF? Seriously? YOU cancel my flight, I come to you to fix it and then you tell me that because I don't have a flight I am not your customer and I get left out in the cold? WTF???
I went to customer service and it got worse. Customer service couldn't rebook my flight and told me I had to start all over, from scratch, as if I was just coming in to the airport. Huh? SAS just automatically rebooks you, WTF is this shit?
I had to: Go down and around to arrivals. Fill in landing card and go through passport control as if I was arriving in England to stay. Get my luggage. Take luggage through customs. Go to Departures hall. Wait in very long line with said luggage to rebook flight as if it was from scratch. Flight rebooked but 7 hours after original flight. Check in again. Go through Security (third time). Get 'randomly chosen' to have a body scan. Told them I didn't want to. They said no scan no fly. I pitched a royal fit, told them I had been through security THREE times already, TODAY, AT HEATHROW and when they told me to pose for the scan with my arms out I believe you can imagine which fingers I had extended. I try to be friendly and try to be accomodating to strangers and so on, but this was the ABSOLUTE last straw. I hope they enjoy the naked pictures of me.
I finally made it through all that, took my new boarding pass up to the business lounge, and am now on my second VERY LARGE glass of Gruner Vetliner (tasty, too) and am then going to avail myself of the free 15 minute spa treatment. Will then fall asleep on some sofa or other, and thence to dinner at Wagamama at T5, until my flight later this evening.
I smell bad, I'm tired, my hair looks flat and stringy, I'm tired, I'm a bit drunk, my skin is oily, my makeup mostly rubbed off, I feel icky and I want to be home and have a bath, dammit.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
And....it's over
Tomorrow I go back to Norway. Today is a grey cold day in Missouri, which fits my mood.
This morning I did my traditional last day errands:
So now I am back from the errands, waiting for one last delivery of something I ordered, and also a delivery of a surprise for my mom. I rather enjoy spoiling my parents now....nice to feel I can give them back a little of what they gave me. Spending time with my mom reveals more and more to me what an awesome person she is, and also what a total and complete GOOBER she is. I mean, I know I'm goofy but, holy hell, that woman is a paragon of the goofy arts. She's always making faces, joking, snorting, laughing, dancing and generally being hilarious. If I am even 1/10th as funny as her, I can see why people tell me I am funny, too. Dad's funny, too, but he is also very intense and can take things a bit too seriously at times, and so sometimes when I joke with him, his mind doesn't quite get that I am teasing him and he reacts as if I am being serious. Mom always gets it, though, and then we just sit there silently and look at him while he reacts and curses and defends....and then he just says "oh" and shuts up. Hee hee, I love that.
And now I just tried to check in online but of course I can't because American Airlines and British Airways, while they code share, can't get their shit together enough to allow me to check in online for the whole flight. BA sends me to American's website, and then American sends me back to BA's. I HATE this part, why can't they communicate enough to let me check in online for the whole flight like I am supposed to, instead of making me check in piecemeal for just parts of it.
Well, a few more hours, then. I'll make some tortilla soup tonight to give mom a rest from cooking, pack up the last incidentals, and that is it for this trip!
This morning I did my traditional last day errands:
- Mail stuff back to Norway that is too heavy for the suitcase, takes up too much space, or that I won't need until later (this time it was two boxes that together weighed 30lbs),
- Mail back stuff I had ordered from catalogues that didn't work out (2 dresses from J Peterman, I kept one),
- Last trip to Walmart (only game in town) for incidentals like scrubby sponges, cold medicine, cherry Twizzlers and Ro-tel that I always like to bring back with me,
- One nostalgic trip to a fast food joint (this time being Taco Smell for a mexi melt).
So now I am back from the errands, waiting for one last delivery of something I ordered, and also a delivery of a surprise for my mom. I rather enjoy spoiling my parents now....nice to feel I can give them back a little of what they gave me. Spending time with my mom reveals more and more to me what an awesome person she is, and also what a total and complete GOOBER she is. I mean, I know I'm goofy but, holy hell, that woman is a paragon of the goofy arts. She's always making faces, joking, snorting, laughing, dancing and generally being hilarious. If I am even 1/10th as funny as her, I can see why people tell me I am funny, too. Dad's funny, too, but he is also very intense and can take things a bit too seriously at times, and so sometimes when I joke with him, his mind doesn't quite get that I am teasing him and he reacts as if I am being serious. Mom always gets it, though, and then we just sit there silently and look at him while he reacts and curses and defends....and then he just says "oh" and shuts up. Hee hee, I love that.
And now I just tried to check in online but of course I can't because American Airlines and British Airways, while they code share, can't get their shit together enough to allow me to check in online for the whole flight. BA sends me to American's website, and then American sends me back to BA's. I HATE this part, why can't they communicate enough to let me check in online for the whole flight like I am supposed to, instead of making me check in piecemeal for just parts of it.
Well, a few more hours, then. I'll make some tortilla soup tonight to give mom a rest from cooking, pack up the last incidentals, and that is it for this trip!
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Karaoke Karla
This is me singing karaoke at my friend Margaret's (and also Clark's) birthday at the Highball in Austin. I sang Joan Jett's "Do You Wanna Touch". Loudly and tunelessly, but definitely with bravado.Rock n Roll, bitches, Rock n Roll.
Photo credit to Rafael Rodriguez.
Things that happen when I visit my family
This is by no means an exhaustive list.
- Giggles.
- Guffaws.
- Some hollerin' (usually by Dad.)
- Farting (my brother, though Mom has done herself proud this visit)
- A visit to Walmart, as there is really no place else to shop.
- I needed toothpaste.
- A walk in the woods
- Comments on the level of water in the creek (high, it rained)
- A lot of eating.
- Some more eating.
- Drinking wine
- And more eating
- Which makes the farts recommence
- My brother actually farts directly in my face in a very sneaky and awful walk by farting.
- I give him a wedgie.
- We watch a movie
- First we argue over which one to watch.
- The boys wants shoot-em-up or car movies
- Us girls want something less testosterone-y.
- We settle on 'Adventures in Babysitting".
- (Both the boys think Elizabeth Shue was the cutest girl to ever appear in a movie)
- Dad hollers that the TV is too loud.
- Mom says she can't hear it
- Mom guards the remote and immediately turns down the movie everytime music plays or something loud happens
- Both parents complain about how the noise levels vary, and how much that bothers them
- This always stresses me, the constant attention to TV noise levels.
- Like what, will it KILL them if it gets a bit louder?
- Mom pounces on that remote like a kitten on a mouse.
- They both fall asleep within 5 minutes of the movie starting
- So it doesn't matter anyhow.
- At 10 on the dot we switch to the news.
- We all wait expectantly for the weather.
- The weather forecaster comes on, Dad hollers that he is always wrong and he never gets the temperatures right and that it never DOES rain here like he says it will.
- Immediately after the weather, the TV is switched off (we abjure the sports) (and there is no staying up for Leno, at least not on the main TV, though any one for the three other tv's may sport Leno or Letterman at the watcher's leisure, provided sound is low.)
- Pillows are fluffed, room is tidied, and everyone is sent off to bed.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
the hard part
I always hate the last night of a visit home to Austin. (It would suck regardless because of the packing, of course.)
Don't get me wrong, I have a good life in Norway. A beautiful apartment, a great job, great friends and a husband who loves me (though he is mad at me right now about his perception of my spending while here, but I've been saving all my mad shopping for a YEAR, not to mention not having had a haircut in a year, a visit to the dentist in three, etc etc. Expats, you understand, the shopping when you go home, right? Hes just freaked at seeing the number all at once instead of dribbled in spits and spats.).
But coming home to Austin, it's, well, it's...home. It just IS. I feel comfortable. The freak factor is right where I like it. (There's a dude who rides his bike around Austin and he wears nothing but a thong. Everyone calls him Thong Guy, but nobody knows who he is. Walking around Town Lake I saw a girl wearing a t shirt that said "I heart moustache rides" and she was walking with a guy with a very large handlebar moustache. I just LOVE that sort of thing that happens here in Austin.) The grocery stores have a salsa and tortilla chip aisle, and the beer selection is huge and cheap. I can sit outside in November in a t shirt and feel perfectly comfortable. I can have BREAKFAST TACOS any time I want. People say hi just because you look at them, and everyone holds door for everybody else and men flirt with you and treat you like a lady. I can sit on my friend Julia's deck with a beer in hand and shoot the shit with someone I have known for 37 of my 42 years. These are things I do not take lightly. These are things that are a part of what makes me who I am, that make me whole.
So I am always a bit sad when I leave. The last night I usually keep to myself, take myself out to dinner (tonight was Chinese at an old favorite restaurant, Suzi's), watch tv and pack my stuff up, trying to wedge the cans of salsa verde in to the toe of the new boots, and to not crush the amazing red dress I bought while also fitting in the bulk spices I bought into the nooks and crannies among all the other stuff in the suitcase(s).
Sigh. Well, I still have another week in the US to go, I'll have Thanksgiving with my parents in Missouri and time to hang out and come down from my visit to Austin. I do that on purpose, this schedule. Austin first, then the parents, then back to Norway*. A three step process, three different lives and realities to live and experience.
*Note: I know full well that when I do move back to Texas, I will bemoan what I miss in Norway. I now have a foot in both places, straddling the Atlantic, and will be torn no matter where I live from now on.
Don't get me wrong, I have a good life in Norway. A beautiful apartment, a great job, great friends and a husband who loves me (though he is mad at me right now about his perception of my spending while here, but I've been saving all my mad shopping for a YEAR, not to mention not having had a haircut in a year, a visit to the dentist in three, etc etc. Expats, you understand, the shopping when you go home, right? Hes just freaked at seeing the number all at once instead of dribbled in spits and spats.).
But coming home to Austin, it's, well, it's...home. It just IS. I feel comfortable. The freak factor is right where I like it. (There's a dude who rides his bike around Austin and he wears nothing but a thong. Everyone calls him Thong Guy, but nobody knows who he is. Walking around Town Lake I saw a girl wearing a t shirt that said "I heart moustache rides" and she was walking with a guy with a very large handlebar moustache. I just LOVE that sort of thing that happens here in Austin.) The grocery stores have a salsa and tortilla chip aisle, and the beer selection is huge and cheap. I can sit outside in November in a t shirt and feel perfectly comfortable. I can have BREAKFAST TACOS any time I want. People say hi just because you look at them, and everyone holds door for everybody else and men flirt with you and treat you like a lady. I can sit on my friend Julia's deck with a beer in hand and shoot the shit with someone I have known for 37 of my 42 years. These are things I do not take lightly. These are things that are a part of what makes me who I am, that make me whole.
So I am always a bit sad when I leave. The last night I usually keep to myself, take myself out to dinner (tonight was Chinese at an old favorite restaurant, Suzi's), watch tv and pack my stuff up, trying to wedge the cans of salsa verde in to the toe of the new boots, and to not crush the amazing red dress I bought while also fitting in the bulk spices I bought into the nooks and crannies among all the other stuff in the suitcase(s).
Sigh. Well, I still have another week in the US to go, I'll have Thanksgiving with my parents in Missouri and time to hang out and come down from my visit to Austin. I do that on purpose, this schedule. Austin first, then the parents, then back to Norway*. A three step process, three different lives and realities to live and experience.
*Note: I know full well that when I do move back to Texas, I will bemoan what I miss in Norway. I now have a foot in both places, straddling the Atlantic, and will be torn no matter where I live from now on.
Perfect
This is the perfect red dress. Scored it at 65% off at Neiman's. I have never felt so good in a piece of clothing in my life.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Awwww.
Look what I am missing!!
Damn. And here I am in this warm sunny weather, when I could be in the cold.....
Look what I am missing!!
Damn. And here I am in this warm sunny weather, when I could be in the cold.....
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Art
Last night went out with Bookhart to East 6th street east of 35, and went to a couple bars. First was The Good Knight, which wasn't, and then Rio Rita, which was great. Very friendly, and it felt like the Flight Path cafe back in the old days. We enjoyed that place, there were bluegrass players there practicing so we got impromptu bluegrass concert as well. I bought a piece of art......I didn't mean to, it wasn't in my plan, but I did.
I just saw it and had to have it. It is thousands and thousands of nuts, bolts, watch gears, cut up telephone wire, beads, pearls, little strange tiny toys, monopoly tokens, etc, all drilled into a board and once you look long enough you see an image of a dog's head looking to the side. It's AMAZING. I don't want to post a full picture because the impact is in the details, and a photo doesn't do it justice. I'll just post a close up of a portion of it. It was $100, and it could easily command $1000, I really think the artist (a very cool young girl) undersold herself severely.
Of course it is not exactly lightweight, so I am going to have to find a way to ship it. But I am in AWE of the amount of work that went into it, it is simply stunning, and oddly elegant in the color usage (dulled metallics) and the way it gleams. It's a wierd mix of ugly things that have created this insanely beautiful textured landscape.
I am now forever known as that crazy rich lady who bought the art at Rio Rita. (You should've seen the artist, you would've thought I had just told her she won the lottery when I said I wanted to buy it. That felt good.)
I just saw it and had to have it. It is thousands and thousands of nuts, bolts, watch gears, cut up telephone wire, beads, pearls, little strange tiny toys, monopoly tokens, etc, all drilled into a board and once you look long enough you see an image of a dog's head looking to the side. It's AMAZING. I don't want to post a full picture because the impact is in the details, and a photo doesn't do it justice. I'll just post a close up of a portion of it. It was $100, and it could easily command $1000, I really think the artist (a very cool young girl) undersold herself severely.
Of course it is not exactly lightweight, so I am going to have to find a way to ship it. But I am in AWE of the amount of work that went into it, it is simply stunning, and oddly elegant in the color usage (dulled metallics) and the way it gleams. It's a wierd mix of ugly things that have created this insanely beautiful textured landscape.
I am now forever known as that crazy rich lady who bought the art at Rio Rita. (You should've seen the artist, you would've thought I had just told her she won the lottery when I said I wanted to buy it. That felt good.)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Random Austin
- Got a clean check up at my awesome dentist today.
- Been going to her for 15 years.
- Love her.
- She has almost the exact same name as me.
- Saw a perfect, GLORIOUS mullet today.
- Got a haircut.
- NOT a mullet.
- Went back to my natural color.
- I think.
- I mean, I haven't really seen my natural color since I was 14 or so.
- Have highlighted, lowlighted, used Sun In, or generally had some version of reddish something since 14.
- But now, I am auburn again.
- I love it.
- Went around Town Lake again.
- My favorite walk in the world.
- Then found a patch of grass in Zilker Park, laid down on it, and examined the sky.
- It was blue.
- And perfect.
- Had Chipotle for lunch.
- Can they open one in Norway, PLEASE?????
- Met my friend Bookhart for drinks and dinner in East Austin.
- Ate at the Good Knight.
- It wasn't that good, it was sort of the OK Knight.
- Odd place, they are trying to be a gastropub, but they are missing the mark.
- Then went to Rio Rita.
- LOVE.
- LOVE.
- LOVE that place.
- I bought art.
- AT Rio Rita.
- Staff art show.
- Some really talented people.
- And now I have to find a way to get it back to Norway.
- I fell in love with it on sight.
- It's the most amazingly detailed intricate thing I have ever seen.
- It cost a hundred bucks.
- It looks like a million.
- Well, at least a thousand.
- Tomorrow lunch and dinner with friends.
- And either shopping or some more sun time.
- This is a perfect week.
- Content.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Austin
Obligatory shot of Austin from Town Lake trail. Insert usual maudlin reminiscence here. Wahh!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Howdy Y'all
Howdy from Texas. Yeeha!
My flight to Houston was smooth and very nice. I upgraded my ticket to business class with miles, and damn that is just WORTH it. So worth it. I scored a seat on the upper deck, something I have always wanted to do. I flew in a backward facing seat, which seemed odd during takeoff and landing, but other than that, I didn't even notice. They fed me about 43 little glasses of wine and some shrimpy starter and some meaty main and a really good dessert. And then I rolled out the flat bed and slept.
So I landed in Houston in good shape, but with very bad plane hair (what is UP with that?) and my brother picked me up at the airport. It was warm out, but not too warm, just nice. Soft Texas air. Lovely. We headed back to his house where my sister in law Kathy had some sushi she picked up for us all ready to go and it was yummylicious. I crashed at about 10 in their very comfy guest room and listened to a nice Texas rainfall pitter patter out side.
Next morning up, shower, and Chuck and I went to breakfast at IHOP. American food is BIG. After guzzling everything in sight ( the waitress asked me if I wanted a side of Tums or Rolaids with that, which I thought was hilarious) I took off to Austin, with a brief stop at some outlets, of course. Yesterday was a beautiful cool day, so I drove to Austin with the top down on the little Cabrio Chuck lends me and had a great time rocking out to whatever AOR music showed up on the radio. Driving in a convertible does good things for my hair....it was BIG.
Got to Austin at about 5pm. Checked in to the hotel I booked just for that night, changed clothes, and headed out to meet my friends Nick and Anne at the bar at the Stephen F. My friend Julia decided to join us, so, lucky me, I got to spend the evening with two of my oldest (as in, know for many years) friends! And it was Anne's birthday, too. I have known Julia since I was 5 and Anne since about 12. We had a crazy night, it's always a crazy night when you meet up with Nick and Anne. They are so well suited and live with such joie de vivre. After the Stephen F we went on to some other bars, and more drinks, and other bars and ate dinner and had more drinks, until finally went to a dance club, where the picture of Anne, below, was taken in the unisex bathroom. (She just posed, she wasn't actually peeing, by the way.) Oh God I laughed so hard. Anne kept screaming "Take the picture! TAKE THE PICTURE BEFORE SOMEONE COMES IN! MY ASS IS OUT!!!" But I was laughing so hard it was very difficult to take the picture......
I also discovered, sadly, that I still am a total snob about the music I will dance to, and last night was no exception. I hated the music at the club, so just couldn't dance to it. I like my music angry or house, but I don't like poppy gay bar music, which is what they were playing. Also, we were older by at least 15 years than anyone there. And I really kind of didn't give a fuck. Which was nice, because I could look around and see the place and the people with these new eyes, as oppose to how I used to look at a club, which was all "Ohmygod do I look ok, am I dancing cool enough, will they let me buy a drink with this fake ID, am I drunk yet, how long with my $20 last me....?"
I woke up this morning with way less of a hangover than I should have had. I suspect the anti inflammatories I am taking for my back had something to do with that, that and the fact that I skipped the last few drinks and just had water.
Had lunch at Matt's El Rancho with the folks from last night, plus Bookhart and her family and Julia's partner and their son. I crave the shrimp tostadas at Matt's, and they did not fail me today. After that Julia and I went to Last Call, where I was worried that I might be too hung over to shop, but nope, I was victorious with a nice charcoal grey suit by Ellen Tracy, a cashmere sweater and a pair of pleated linen trousers by Magaschioni. I will go back later this week for another trawl. Then I checked in to the little garage apartment I booked for the week, it's so cute!, and then to Target for supplies and some comfy fat pants for lounging. Oh Target....how i miss thee......
Tomorrow....a massage for my sore travel weary back.
My flight to Houston was smooth and very nice. I upgraded my ticket to business class with miles, and damn that is just WORTH it. So worth it. I scored a seat on the upper deck, something I have always wanted to do. I flew in a backward facing seat, which seemed odd during takeoff and landing, but other than that, I didn't even notice. They fed me about 43 little glasses of wine and some shrimpy starter and some meaty main and a really good dessert. And then I rolled out the flat bed and slept.
So I landed in Houston in good shape, but with very bad plane hair (what is UP with that?) and my brother picked me up at the airport. It was warm out, but not too warm, just nice. Soft Texas air. Lovely. We headed back to his house where my sister in law Kathy had some sushi she picked up for us all ready to go and it was yummylicious. I crashed at about 10 in their very comfy guest room and listened to a nice Texas rainfall pitter patter out side.
Next morning up, shower, and Chuck and I went to breakfast at IHOP. American food is BIG. After guzzling everything in sight ( the waitress asked me if I wanted a side of Tums or Rolaids with that, which I thought was hilarious) I took off to Austin, with a brief stop at some outlets, of course. Yesterday was a beautiful cool day, so I drove to Austin with the top down on the little Cabrio Chuck lends me and had a great time rocking out to whatever AOR music showed up on the radio. Driving in a convertible does good things for my hair....it was BIG.
Got to Austin at about 5pm. Checked in to the hotel I booked just for that night, changed clothes, and headed out to meet my friends Nick and Anne at the bar at the Stephen F. My friend Julia decided to join us, so, lucky me, I got to spend the evening with two of my oldest (as in, know for many years) friends! And it was Anne's birthday, too. I have known Julia since I was 5 and Anne since about 12. We had a crazy night, it's always a crazy night when you meet up with Nick and Anne. They are so well suited and live with such joie de vivre. After the Stephen F we went on to some other bars, and more drinks, and other bars and ate dinner and had more drinks, until finally went to a dance club, where the picture of Anne, below, was taken in the unisex bathroom. (She just posed, she wasn't actually peeing, by the way.) Oh God I laughed so hard. Anne kept screaming "Take the picture! TAKE THE PICTURE BEFORE SOMEONE COMES IN! MY ASS IS OUT!!!" But I was laughing so hard it was very difficult to take the picture......
I also discovered, sadly, that I still am a total snob about the music I will dance to, and last night was no exception. I hated the music at the club, so just couldn't dance to it. I like my music angry or house, but I don't like poppy gay bar music, which is what they were playing. Also, we were older by at least 15 years than anyone there. And I really kind of didn't give a fuck. Which was nice, because I could look around and see the place and the people with these new eyes, as oppose to how I used to look at a club, which was all "Ohmygod do I look ok, am I dancing cool enough, will they let me buy a drink with this fake ID, am I drunk yet, how long with my $20 last me....?"
I woke up this morning with way less of a hangover than I should have had. I suspect the anti inflammatories I am taking for my back had something to do with that, that and the fact that I skipped the last few drinks and just had water.
Had lunch at Matt's El Rancho with the folks from last night, plus Bookhart and her family and Julia's partner and their son. I crave the shrimp tostadas at Matt's, and they did not fail me today. After that Julia and I went to Last Call, where I was worried that I might be too hung over to shop, but nope, I was victorious with a nice charcoal grey suit by Ellen Tracy, a cashmere sweater and a pair of pleated linen trousers by Magaschioni. I will go back later this week for another trawl. Then I checked in to the little garage apartment I booked for the week, it's so cute!, and then to Target for supplies and some comfy fat pants for lounging. Oh Target....how i miss thee......
Tomorrow....a massage for my sore travel weary back.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
back spasms suck, or, "I've got a toomah"
Wow.
So, yeah, interesting week so far this week. Tuesday at work I had this stabbing, stitching, ripping pain in my back, on the right side, around my bra strap, that was so intense at times I couldn't breathe. I also couldn't sit for very long, it hurt too much, so I had to keep getting up and walking around. I finally gave up with the sitting, and left work, walking home to work out the kink.
Tuesday night, it got worse. The pain throbbed in waves, it would get intense and then die off, it sort of felt as if an alien was trying to escape out my right shoulder blade. Rich kept trying to make me feel better, but I am one of those people that when it hurts, leave me alone, because I am going to bite you if you come near me. Poor guy was worried with my occasional holler of agony, though.
That night I took 800 mg of ibuprofen, a muscle relaxer and then later a vicodin (left over from dental work) and luckily the vicodin worked a bit and I was able to sleep (pass out).
Next morning I took myself to the doctor at Volvat. Volvat is the private medical facility that, luckily, my company bought me a membership in. It's still more expensive than the Norwegian health care system, but I really could not sit long enough in a waiting room to get the cheaper service they offer. So, Volvat (on walk in basis) was the choice. I went, they signed me in, I took the ubiquitous number that all things in Norway entail, and, God be praised, I was in with a doc within 10 minutes. The doc poked around on my back and confirmed my suspicions: It was, indeed an alien. Not only an alien, but also a huge tumor. An alien tumor about to erupt from my back.
OK, I lie. It was muscle spasms leading to an inflammatory reaction that hurt like a motherfucker. How did I hurt myself? I don't know, actually, but I suspect it is an over-eagerness to bend like by yoga teacher, which, with my level of flexibility, is an abject lesson in stupidity. I can touch my toes, I should be satisfied with that. I will never be able to kiss my own ass.
The doctor prescribed me some anti-inflammatories and a very ass-kicking strong pain pill that makes me even loopier than vicodin does, due to it having, as I discovered, later, after drooling on myself all yesterday afternoon, twice the mg of codeine than the vicodin I already had contains. And I thought Norwegian docs didn't prescribe the strong stuff! I actually cannot ever take those pain pills outside my house, or I will forget what I left the house for, as well as where I live. Yes, I am a lightweight. I don't like being that foggy, those pills are emergency only.
However, and this is how awesome I am? I STILL managed to roast the most awesome chicken ever last night. I might be a cripple, but this Texas chick can roast a chicken!*
I felt much better today, I brought my heating pad to work with me and sat in my chair like an old lady, with heating pad and ramrod straight posture all day.
I have to get better, and the sooner the better, as I am going to Texas on Friday. Woo!
*Roasting a chicken is very hard. You put it in the oven for an hour, take it out, and eat it. It was hard hard work and my back barely survived the ordeal.**
**That was sarcasm, btw.
So, yeah, interesting week so far this week. Tuesday at work I had this stabbing, stitching, ripping pain in my back, on the right side, around my bra strap, that was so intense at times I couldn't breathe. I also couldn't sit for very long, it hurt too much, so I had to keep getting up and walking around. I finally gave up with the sitting, and left work, walking home to work out the kink.
Tuesday night, it got worse. The pain throbbed in waves, it would get intense and then die off, it sort of felt as if an alien was trying to escape out my right shoulder blade. Rich kept trying to make me feel better, but I am one of those people that when it hurts, leave me alone, because I am going to bite you if you come near me. Poor guy was worried with my occasional holler of agony, though.
That night I took 800 mg of ibuprofen, a muscle relaxer and then later a vicodin (left over from dental work) and luckily the vicodin worked a bit and I was able to sleep (pass out).
Next morning I took myself to the doctor at Volvat. Volvat is the private medical facility that, luckily, my company bought me a membership in. It's still more expensive than the Norwegian health care system, but I really could not sit long enough in a waiting room to get the cheaper service they offer. So, Volvat (on walk in basis) was the choice. I went, they signed me in, I took the ubiquitous number that all things in Norway entail, and, God be praised, I was in with a doc within 10 minutes. The doc poked around on my back and confirmed my suspicions: It was, indeed an alien. Not only an alien, but also a huge tumor. An alien tumor about to erupt from my back.
OK, I lie. It was muscle spasms leading to an inflammatory reaction that hurt like a motherfucker. How did I hurt myself? I don't know, actually, but I suspect it is an over-eagerness to bend like by yoga teacher, which, with my level of flexibility, is an abject lesson in stupidity. I can touch my toes, I should be satisfied with that. I will never be able to kiss my own ass.
The doctor prescribed me some anti-inflammatories and a very ass-kicking strong pain pill that makes me even loopier than vicodin does, due to it having, as I discovered, later, after drooling on myself all yesterday afternoon, twice the mg of codeine than the vicodin I already had contains. And I thought Norwegian docs didn't prescribe the strong stuff! I actually cannot ever take those pain pills outside my house, or I will forget what I left the house for, as well as where I live. Yes, I am a lightweight. I don't like being that foggy, those pills are emergency only.
However, and this is how awesome I am? I STILL managed to roast the most awesome chicken ever last night. I might be a cripple, but this Texas chick can roast a chicken!*
I felt much better today, I brought my heating pad to work with me and sat in my chair like an old lady, with heating pad and ramrod straight posture all day.
I have to get better, and the sooner the better, as I am going to Texas on Friday. Woo!
*Roasting a chicken is very hard. You put it in the oven for an hour, take it out, and eat it. It was hard hard work and my back barely survived the ordeal.**
**That was sarcasm, btw.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Saturday, November 06, 2010
In which I get a break from men
Now, don't get me wrong: I love men. Love them, love them. Love them.
But.
I work with men. I live with a man. I am always continually surrounded by men. Some of my best friends are men. I work and live in a man-centric world. Men, for all their nice cozy manliness, are hard work sometimes. I feel like I am always taking care of the needs of some man or other. I have two male bosses at work (and am training up a new one). At any time I will get an email or a call or a shout out from a guy needing help with something, they need some taking care of, they need me to remember something for them (I never get that, why do *I* have to remember FOR them?), they need me to do something for them. For the husband, he wants dinner, or can't remember our address (!!!) or where the pot in the kitchen goes, or what kind of cheese I wanted him to get or what is the code to the ATM machine. Men need constant soothing, reassuring, feeding, and diplomacy. It can be EXHAUSTING to be relied upon all the time.
Which is why? It was so fucking nice to hang out with WOMEN last night.
I hosted a bachelorette party for a friend of mine. By hosted, I mean, it was at my house. My contribution to the party was thus: I bought some paper plates, cleaned the toilets, and made sure I had plenty of toilet paper on hand. Then I took a nap. At 7pm, the doorbell started ringing. The ladies arrived, bearing beautiful food they had made or bought or prepared or created. They brought things to drink. They brought games. They came in like a lovely laughing tornado of food and fun, and all I did was give them plates to put stuff on.
It was SO GREAT. It was so nice to just let other women take over, to know that for once, I didn't have to take care of stuff, that they had it all in hand, they were prepared, and I could literally let them get on with it, and it would be fine. The food was gorgeous and we somehow had a perfect mix of sweet, savory, snacky, and everything, so nothing was missing. I don't think they planned who would bring what, either, but it sure worked! It was the best, most refreshing thing that has happened to me in a long time. And it wasn't even MY party (it was Elaina's) but it felt so great to let it all happen around me and I could participate instead of control. Some girls brought games, and then ran a series of entertainments that was equally fun and funny. It was silly, good natured and sweet, all at once.
I don't think men realize how much they rely on women. I don't think women realize how much we let men rely on us. All I do know is that I could feel the difference between the world of men and the company of women, and it felt really, really nice to let some responsibility and worry roll off my shoulders for an evening and let the amazing power of women carry me along.
Thanks ladies, it was a great night.
But.
I work with men. I live with a man. I am always continually surrounded by men. Some of my best friends are men. I work and live in a man-centric world. Men, for all their nice cozy manliness, are hard work sometimes. I feel like I am always taking care of the needs of some man or other. I have two male bosses at work (and am training up a new one). At any time I will get an email or a call or a shout out from a guy needing help with something, they need some taking care of, they need me to remember something for them (I never get that, why do *I* have to remember FOR them?), they need me to do something for them. For the husband, he wants dinner, or can't remember our address (!!!) or where the pot in the kitchen goes, or what kind of cheese I wanted him to get or what is the code to the ATM machine. Men need constant soothing, reassuring, feeding, and diplomacy. It can be EXHAUSTING to be relied upon all the time.
Which is why? It was so fucking nice to hang out with WOMEN last night.
I hosted a bachelorette party for a friend of mine. By hosted, I mean, it was at my house. My contribution to the party was thus: I bought some paper plates, cleaned the toilets, and made sure I had plenty of toilet paper on hand. Then I took a nap. At 7pm, the doorbell started ringing. The ladies arrived, bearing beautiful food they had made or bought or prepared or created. They brought things to drink. They brought games. They came in like a lovely laughing tornado of food and fun, and all I did was give them plates to put stuff on.
It was SO GREAT. It was so nice to just let other women take over, to know that for once, I didn't have to take care of stuff, that they had it all in hand, they were prepared, and I could literally let them get on with it, and it would be fine. The food was gorgeous and we somehow had a perfect mix of sweet, savory, snacky, and everything, so nothing was missing. I don't think they planned who would bring what, either, but it sure worked! It was the best, most refreshing thing that has happened to me in a long time. And it wasn't even MY party (it was Elaina's) but it felt so great to let it all happen around me and I could participate instead of control. Some girls brought games, and then ran a series of entertainments that was equally fun and funny. It was silly, good natured and sweet, all at once.
I don't think men realize how much they rely on women. I don't think women realize how much we let men rely on us. All I do know is that I could feel the difference between the world of men and the company of women, and it felt really, really nice to let some responsibility and worry roll off my shoulders for an evening and let the amazing power of women carry me along.
Thanks ladies, it was a great night.
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