I brought the curl back and the golf hat

yesterday morning while i was brushing my teeth rogray told me something shocking. apparently our cat harper had told him that she was going to go golfing.

at first i didn't believe him because, well, she's a cat and cats can't golf. but then harper sent me these pictures that she took from her iphone: (how she can afford an iphone is beyond me since all she does all day is sleep, eat, attack things that aren't there and then sleep again but there is a lot about her that doesn't add up.)







golfing. cats.

who knew?

Only In My Dreams. . .

sleep and i have a very tumultuous relationship: i want it, sometimes it doesn't want to give it me. sometimes i can't fall asleep because too many thoughts are running through my head like "should i shower tomorrow", or "i should recycle more", or "perhaps this pain in my stomach is cancer and not simply constipation. . ."

fascinating.

sometimes i can't sleep because my dreams are too active. other times because i ate one too many thin mints for dessert. i have been known to sing in my sleep and the other day, when i was sick with a sinus infection from hell, i woke up by startling myself out of sleep and promptly slapping myself in the face. i don't even know how or why that happened but it did and it was disturbing.

almost as disturbing as what i dreamt about last night. which was, i can't believe i'm admitting this, surfing the internet. and more specifically, "the blogosphere."

i hate myself.

Bein' Green

one of my favorite presents from rogray ever (besides a head of garlic) is this:



i love things with frogs and turtles on them because they are cute and green. thanks to rogray, our bathroom is well on the way to becoming frog central since that frog face now complements our frog bathmat.

what is that frog face you ask?

why, it's a toothbrush holder! genius!

and why am i posting about this? because in all the months of owning this little sucker my toothbrush finally matches my frog!



much more exciting things have been going on in my life than this and i will be posting the many pictures i've been taking the past few weeks shortly. . .but, for now, look how cute that frog is eating my toothbrush!

oh, what a relief it is. . .

to continue in the too much information category:

for some reason i am usually the first on my floor at work to go to the bathroom
in the morning. this is not a big whoop (who says that?) except. . .

that means that i get to enjoy the simple pleasure of being the first to use the newly cleaned toilet.

now, for men, this might not hold the same kind of excitement as it does for women since you spend most of the time standing to pee. . .unless you are one of those rare breed men who sit to pee which i'll never really understand but whatever because maybe i would get bored standing all the time too - i just wish i had the option to switch it up like that. . .

anyway -- there's something very pleasing about getting to be the first to use the newly cleaned toilet -- or newly cleaned shower for that matter. i put it up there with the feeling you get when you are wearing a new pair of underwear for the first time.

Smells like Nirvana

warning: this may be too much information.

every night when i come home i immediately release noxious fumes out of the lower rear of my body. aka i fart everywhere and a lot.

every night i say the following to rogray: "god, i am so gassy tonight. i wonder why that is."

why do i say that?

because every night i am shocked, shocked, to find myself the generator of repeated and intense farts. shocked like a goldfish that repeatedly discovers that not only is there a small chest of booty in its aquarium but that the booty is fake and therefore not worth enough money to get herself out of the hell-hole that is her new home and back into the hell-hole that was her old home at petco.

rogray thinks that my farting ritual has something to do with this.

but if you ask me -- it's a head scratcher.

children will listen. . .just not at 8 a.m.

i take the f train into manhattan every day -- i live far enough into brooklyn (read: when i tell people the neighborhood i live in i'm generally met with either blank stares, a look of pity, or "i think i know someone who lives there" kinds of comments -- whatever -- i love my neighborhood) that i can usually get a seat on the train.

2 stops into my commute the train has usually filled up and people start huffing and puffing and squeezing their way in and the doors need to open and close a few times and then we are off again. . .and usually the conducter says something like "stand clear of the doors please" in an understandably annoyed tone.

but today, ah today, the conducter was really annoyed that the doors had to open and shut repeatedly at each stop and this is what he said:

*Come on people! We go through this every day! Get your coats and bags out of the door, move to the center of the car and get out of the way of the doors!*


he's right -- we do go over this every day -- hilarious.

i want my, i want my. . .

sometimes i find myself watching informercials in a bizarre zombie like state and occasionaly they either pique my interest (does that really work?) or depress me (someone's gonna pay 3 installments of $39.95 for that piece of crap) but always they convince me that people have way too much time on their hands and the power of the product creating the market.

here are a few of my *favorites*:

i would like to be able to make it's ready already alfredo

sometimes making pasta is so messy

i always wanted to vacuum seal every item of clothing i own

wouldn't you think he knows what he's talking about too?

i finally have a solution to one of my more embarrassing problems

aren't you ever too tired to do this pesky hygiene task yourself?

i'm going to request for this at my gym

this has got to be suuuuuuper comfortable

this is definitely the best use of yoga i've ever seen

up next: a journey into skymall. . .what might be one of my favorite publications of all time.

love, love, love

this isn't my actual winter coat. this is the white, butt-length version of what i have which is a chocolate brown, 3/4 length coat filled with down magic.

you see, i am in love with my coat.

first off it's guaranteed to keep you warm in temperatures down to -30F!! -30!!!

second off -- it's brown and i look good in brown.

third off -- i like the hood because it not only keeps my head warm but when it's on i feel like an arctic eskimo princess (never mind that when it's on i lose all peripheral vision and wouldn't be able to tell that someone is walking up behind me to stab me but this is a minor problem -- unless i do get stabbed in which case it's a major problem.)

also, my coat is big enough to be used as a blanket when taking naps -- which i have done. twice. once in my car when rogray and i had to wait to get his sister at the airport and i was tired and once at work when i reeeeeeeeally needed a 20 minute power-nap to make it to 6pm.

no, i wasn't under my desk -- i was in an unused office that has a couch in it.

also this coat has one pocket on the inside for my cellphone and zippered pocket on the inside for my ipod or the insane amounts of cash i carry around the city with me.

just kidding about that last part.

or am i?

the point is that l.l. bean makes a damn fine winter coat. it wasn't overpriced -- it keeps me warm and keeps me cute while keeping me warm.

i love you l.l. bean down insulated ultra-warm chocolate brown 3/4 length coat!

Oh, Say Can You Seeeeeeeeeee

i don't know about you people but i never really watched the west wing when it was on, and certainly never saw an episode after monsieur sorkin left. . .even i knew that would be a waste. i liked sports night and i liked the american president (although not as much as dadgo does. he cries at the end of that movie.)

i didn't even get excited when they cast alan alda as an evil republican and i love me some alan alda.

i have spent many years snickering at rogray and his friends as they quote long sections of the show (sorkin years only) and discuss plot details and intricacies. i have rolled my eyes at my friends who talk about how sexy bradley whitford is or how intense the donna/josh chemistry was. when people would talk about how martin sheen's josiah "jed" bartlet is the ideal president i would quietly laugh--what a silly thing to say.

but now. . .now is a different story. the day of new year's eve, le bff and i spent some time watching the first few episodes of season 1 (rogray has it on dvd) and i got into it so as i nursed my new year's day hangover i watched more of season 1. thanks to rogray's friend, the politician, we have been able to watch seasons 2 and 3 and when the politician's girlfriend finishes season 4 i will be able to watch the last of the sorkin years of the west wing. and i will stop there. because rogray has told me about some stupid things that happen after sorkin leaves.

like c.j. would ever, ever have slept with hoynes if sorkin had continued with the show? and of course donna and josh had to get together in the end because they always do that on shows but still -- i bet you sorkin wouldn't have done it and if he had it would have been cool.

because the west wing's first few season's when sorkin was probably writing them huddle under his desk while high on mushrooms and crack are brilliant. i'm not saying drugs are cool -- they're not -- seriously kids don't do drugs. unless of course, in doing drugs you become some insane genius and can produce work like the west wing. in which case, you should not only do drugs, but the studio should make sure you have a phone line dedicated to contacting your dealer for all the shrooms, marijuana, cocaine and whatever else floats your boat. and then the studio should pay for all those drugs. and then pay for your rehab so you can do the press circuit and go accept all of your awards without people thinking that you just got there via a taxi from skid row.

because you know what? all that drug addiction made for a really good show with really good characters. if jed bartlett was running for president i'd vote for him -- and i don't about all the fawning over bradley whitford (he seems to do the same thing in everything i've ever seen him in but it works in sorkin-land) but i am newly obsessed with these two. . .seriously. don't mess with c.j. she'll cut you.

so, in conclusion, i am sorry to those of you whom i may have offended by belittling your west wing love. i was wrong to do it. i hope you can forgive me. jed bartlett would.

p.s. i have watched a few episodes of studio 60 and i will never feel for it what i do for the wing. . .just sayin'.

tomorrow, tomorrow, i love ya', tomorrow

random post alert:

tomorrow i will post not one but 2 (!) whatcha' got cookin's. . .rogray has been busy.

dadgo and momgo get into town today and tomorrow is dadgo's birthday!

Happy Birthday DadGo!!!

anyway, when we asked dadgo what he wanted for b-day dinner he said that he wanted rogray to cook for him. . .so he is. . .and it's going to be a surprise. a special surprise -- we did a test run of the special surprise while le bff and Mr. T were here and it went over quite well so we hope it makes dadgo happy.

this weekend is going to be a busy one (jk is coming, jk is coming!! yipeee!!) so that's 3 very important people in town so i probably won't be able to blog about it until after mlk day.

oh, and expect to see a lot of invisi-text on my blog thanks to new blog-friend (that's right i made a blog friend. what's up now bitches?) craigers. if you would like to see the name of his blog highlight this: Puntabulous. isn't that a neat trick? i'm sure the more sophisticated HTML-ers out there already know the trick but i didn't and i think it's cool.

more tomorrow. until then, figure out an alternative plan to putting more troops in iraq and stuff. . .

and just because i can, here are some pictures of rogray's niece and nephew having fun with uncle rogray and a blanket:



and gracie checks out uncle rogray's picture for pedro:


the end.

in my mind, in my mind

last night before rogray and i hit the hay he asked me what i was thinking about and it just so happened that i was thinking about what if there was a cooking class where they didn't teach you how to cook but rather would tell you to make something without a recipe and at the end of the class when you had finished cooking whatever it was (in my imaginary scenario it was eggplant parmesan) the teacher would come around and critique your work. sort of like a class in cooking instincts.

after a few moments of silence it seemed clear that i should explain how i got there:

first i started thinking about how early i have to wake up on saturday to catch my flight to go see my grandma so i should definitely pack tonight.

then i thought i should probably pack while rogray makes dinner.

then i thought about how yummy dinner is going to be tonight.

next i was thinking about how i wish i had better "knife skills" because i think that it would make me a better cook but also a more efficient one and then maybe i wouldn't get so lazy in the kitchen.

i started wishing i had better knives.

then i began thinking about taking a knife skills class.

which led me to wondering if i wanted to take an actual cooking class.

then i thought what if rogray and i took one together?

but then we would both know how to make the same things and that's not as fun as both knowing different things.

and a cooking class is expensive.

what if the class wasn't teaching skills or recipes but was about honing your cooking instincts?

no recipes. sort of like survivor in the kitchen. "here are ingredients and utensils. here is what the end result should be -- figure out how to get there."

but it could only be dishes people are fairly familiar with -- like eggplant parmesan.

what would i do if i had to make eggplant parm without a recipe?

and that's when rogray asked me what i was thinking about. . .

so there you have it. the inner workings of my mind. fascinating, right?

You better have my cheese

the title for this post is from this trick daddy song. (warning: explicit lyrics -- momgo, dadgo -- i'm talking to you) it's got some pretty awesome rhymes. here's an example of a few:

J to the Dot
I make shit hot
I don't even really wanna hear what you got
Just sign me right when I come for my cheese

the point i am making is that trick daddy has somehow summed up how i feel about cheese and i am impressed that he feels so deeply about this cherished dairy product that he expresses his love for it in song. (i'm sure some of you would make the argument that he is, in fact, not talking about cheese in the most wonderful outcome of an udder but rather money. but i think trick daddy, deep down, truly loves cheese and this his ode. not benjamins. cheese.)

sweatpantsmom's daughter writes about her love of cheese brilliantly here. read it. seriously. it's hilarious. she is clearly a prodigy and will someday hold a position of great power and influence. or, at the very least, poet laureate of the united states.

i love cheese. almost all cheese. i'll admit there are some cheeses that lean to the pungent that i have a hard time with and there are some that i can only enjoy in small amounts (intense blues, sottocenere) but the majority of cheeses i love. in a deep, religious and profound way.

cow's milk? delicious.
goat's milk? would love to!
fresh mozzarella? yes.
brie? sure, why not.
manchego? i thought you'd never ask.
halloumi? let's spice things up.
drunken goat? i'm wasted just thinking about it.
parmesean? parma-yes!
spanish, french, italian, vermont, wisconsin, mexican? any and all.

if i go to some fancy pants restaurant i want dessert and the cheese plate. they bring it out with that quince paste, apricots, figs and so on. . .heaven.

so why am i writing about my unwavering commitment to cheese? for the last 2 years, for reasons i think you can decipher without me going into detail, rogray has been trying to convince me that i am lactose intolerant. oh god. whenever he says those words it's like he's calling my mother a whore while strangling our cat while telling me that bunnies are evil and barak obama is actually a neo-con. in a word, it makes me feel sick and depressed. so i look at him like he's just plunged a knife deep into my heart and is now twisting it around and as my eyes fill with tears i ask him, "why would you say something like that?"

not that i'm being dramatic.

i recently went through a period of cutting back on my cheese intake and the end result is that i fear rogray may be right. but i'll never tell him that. it's the kind of confession i'll only make in hushed tones to friends i can trust when i think rogray isn't in earshot. why am i so secretive about my fear? because it would be a break-up i don't think i could bear. what would life be like without my beloved cheese? and if i am lactose intolerant like he claims then why do i have no problem with yogurt?

and when he reads this and asks me about it i'll convince him that he must be crazy because i am NOT lactose intolerant and that i am worried about him and maybe he should see some kind of doctor if he is dreaming up stuff he saw on the internet.

Flying saucers, levitation, yo! I could do that.

courtesy of huffington post this a.m. i stumbled across this little tidbit about scientists succeeding in levitating small bugs. An ant, a ladybug and a spider.

at the end of the article is a video of some acoustic levitation done by some genius at NASA -- and i'm not being sarcastic when i say genius. i mean it. he probably is. the video is awesome. not because he gets 4 balls to levitate but because of the cool 80's style effects they use -- because it was actually the 80s.

my question is this. they're probably spending millions of dollars to research this. which is fine. but i saw a tv show where david blaine levitated and couldn't they just ask him how he does it? i know a lot of people say he isn't a magician but don't you think it took some magic to convince us he actually is one simply by doing stupid stunts like living under water, freezing himself in a block of ice and most recently spinning in a gyroscope for 2 days for target? (i can just see the ceo of target being so insanely excited about the "hipness" of the stunt. you know that ceo was all "we have david blaine in a gyroscope for 2 days in times square to kick off the holidays. wal-mart just has jessica simpson in a sexy mrs. santa outfit moaning about how all she wants for christmas is some dignity. we are so cool!!")

all this is to say -- if levitation is something we can already do where are the scientists working on teleportation? because that would make my commute much more bearable.

and i go at sleepy time. . .

i am at work. i am so bored. and so sleepy. sleepy to the point of wondering if i can fall asleep leaning my head on my hand while facing the computer so no one will know i'm sleeping when they walk by the cube -- they'll just think i'm staring intently at the calendar on the screen.

when we were in l.a. and i was working at big nameless financial company i could go to the quiet room and snooze for 20 minutes and then come back to work feeling refreshed and awake.

i'm so sleepy i don't even have anything to say really -- i'm only posting something so i can stay awake. and this isn't because i didn't get enough sleep last night -- i got almost 8 hours. i wonder what would happen if i started typing with my eyes closed? i'm going to try it and whatever happens happens.

ok so i', typing with my eyes closed and wondering if what i;m typunbg makes any sense. iy's nice to type with my eyes closed so i can get some mych needed shuteye.

ok how's that go" ok openingh eyes.

wow!! not too bad -- actually pretty damn impressive. i mean that's probably about on par with my typing when my eyes are open. maybe i should type with my eyes closed more often.

let's try again.

i am so tired. why can'y i take a nao.

ok -- not as good -- but not horrible.

maybe you guys should try this too -- see how well you do.

Cheeseburger in paradise

Fast Food Nation: The Movie

See it or just read the book?

And if you've read the book -- are you going to see it?

it's oh so quiet. . .

why? because rogray and i took the apartment from the racist realtor and are in the process of getting his things from storage at his mom's in Amish Pennsylvania and my stuff out of storage in Jewish Long Island and are moving in starting tommorrow!

posts to look forward to:

cross-country re-cap -- with pictures!

ist week in nyc re-cap -- with pictures!

musings on the amish -- probably no pictures.

a post about my cat and her interactions with mateo, koogs and the hulk -- because she's that loco. maybe a picture of her.

these will happen in between and after trips to target, costco, ikea and anywhere else we can get the three million things we need for our place.

Sendin' out an S.O.S.

does anyone know how to make a blogroll? and also how to install a blog tracker? me no likey html.

audio testing!!!