Monday, December 28, 2009

Forcing the Shatner upon you

Several years ago I was dating (I use that term extremely loosely, since I never even kissed this guy) this nice fellow who thought I was a "really good hugger" and told me he desperately wanted to see me naked, but since I was not in the mood to deflower him, I instead settled on stringing him along for an agonizing month or so, since my friends insisted he was such a great guy that I should give him a chance. This is where my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Raimondi, would throw her chalk at me for run-on sentences.

Anyway I was sitting on a futon in this charming young man's apartment one evening, listening to William Shatner's "The Transformed Man," for the first time, and I was so floored by what I heard that I declared then and there it would be my mission in life to purchase this CD and listen to it until my brain melted (coincidentally, are you familiar with the Star Trek episode in which Spock's brain was stolen?).

My delightful male friend took it upon himself to purchase the CD for me immediately, wherein I subjected all of my work-mates to it incessantly, until they agreed that it was the most hilarious thing they'd ever heard and we were all clutching our stomachs from laughing so hard and exclaiming, "Mr. Tambourine Man!!!!"

You have to hear it to understand how completely hysterical it is, but just trust me on this one.

Anyway, segue to me, married and plump several years later, snorting with laughter in bed while reading Shatner's "Up Till Now" (don't ask me about the "till," since I certainly understand until is not spelled untill and anyone who shortens until with till is obviously demented, but maybe there's some explanation for this later in the book and I haven't gotten to it yet).

Can I just say that William Shatner is up there at the top of my list of celebrities who I want to hang out with? He is. I'd like to go to his favorite Italian restaurant with him and have him explain to me where the rest of his favorite restaurants are and tell me hilarious stories about lies he's told the media. I want to know more about the crazy landlady who smashed half of his belongings with a hammer. I want him to "sing" for me.

Long story short, you should read "Up Till Now," misspelled title and all. If you think it is hilarious, we are kindred spirits.

Also, that poor guy I dated, he was about six inches shorter than me and had, I think, two lazy eyes, and a body odor issue that was probably the main obstacle to our getting any closer, physically. When I broke it off with him, he sent me a "break up box" that included a sad letter and a CD of sad songs.

All the girls at work thought I was a real bitch.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

A vacation from the holidays


A year ago Hubs and I agreed that we would take a week-long vacation to Maui with my parents, which we did a couple of weeks ago. It came in the middle of what is always a maddening month of shopping and year-end work deadlines and everyone acting like a complete asshole and, to top it off, the weather always sucks balls in December.

So a couple of weeks ago, we got up at 4 a.m. so we could catch a 7 a.m. flight out of Oakland, and then we stepped off the flight and out of the airport and I stood for a moment in the balmy sunshine and if my skin could have moaned with pleasure and relief, it would have. I'd been told by my doctor about a month prior that I have a Vitamin D deficiency, which is largely caused by a lack of exposure to the sun, and, call me crazy, but I think my body was craving the sun. So I sat in it for seven days.

I wore a bathing suit and read silly novels and drank alcohol and sunned myself for hours on end and ate a LOT of food and altogether forgot that it was December and I would be facing a long list of to-dos when I returned. I watched the sun set and I stared at the ocean and I thought of things I want to accomplish next year and I slept for hours and hours and I looked in the mirror one morning and realized I looked younger.

I have never, ever taken a vacation where I did nothing. Where nothing was on the agenda except for lazing around and eating. Until now. It was the best thing I could have done for myself.

When I returned, I spent one frantic day running around Christmas shopping, two 12 hour days at work, and countless hours wrapping gifts (why does it take so LONG?). Hubs and I went on a fruitless search for tamales and then had to clean the house and make dinner in preparation for Christmas Eve guests. Christmas passed in a blink and when I think of it I see torn wrapping paper and smell champagne and feel tired.

Another year has passed and another lies before us. I am preparing my list of resolutions in my head, soon to be put on paper. I love making resolutions -- it's the keeping of them that I'm not so good at.

Another year is in sight and if you look at it as a new beginning, anything could be possible. We're not too old or fat or unhappy or cynical to accomplish anything we want to.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Working for a living

My dad says: The thing is, all jobs suck.

Does your job suck? I ask him. He is a pastor.

Sometimes, he says.

So I'm thinking, maybe one should stick with the job at which one has racked up a considerable amount of vacation time so that then, at least one could spend as much time as possible away from one's job.

Monday, December 14, 2009

My little husband

Tonight I ate dinner at a Hawaiian restaurant with my parents and my husband, and near the end of the meal, as I was halfway through my Eos Tears of Dew dessert wine, my mother whispered to me that a boy was flirting with me.

I looked up to see a little boy peering over a chair that was almost taller than he was, batting his eyelashes at me. I smiled, and in the next second he was at my side, holding my hand (or rather, two of my fingers in his tiny palm).

"Would you like to dance with me?"

My first inclination was to say Sorry but No, but he looked so adorable and not as though he would be accepting No for an answer, so I asked: "But where will we dance?"

And he swept his free arm out in front of us toward the lawn area, and said: "On the grass!"

I had a bit of a buzz from my Tears of Dew and a previous glass of chardonnay, so I accepted. He pulled me up out of my seat and instructed me to hide with him behind a bush, which would allow us to make a grand entrance in front of a number of amused restaurant patrons, not the least of whom were my family, who were chortling, quite satisfied to watch me embarrass myself.

We hid behind the bush, and my new friend instructed his mother to call us out. She called us by name (at this point I'd given the boy my name), and frustrated, he stage whispered to her: "No! Say 'husband and wife!'"

"Ok, husband and wife, come on out!" she announced. We ran out onto the lawn. My little husband became bashful and held his hands to his face.

"Show her your moves!" his mother prodded. I asked him what his favorite moves were, to help get him going. He admitted to enjoying a hearty dance of twirl-around-til-you-fall-down, and demonstrated as such, after whispering to me, "By the way, I love your nail polish."

Picking himself up off the grass after the twirling dance, he considered a dance that looked suspiciously like the running man. His mother prodded him to do his "Steve Martin moves," explaining that her 5-year-old son's favorite movie is "The Pink Panther." Claiming not to remember those moves, my new little husband decided that he and I would, instead, perform the twirl-til-you-fall-down dance together, so while he twirled, I decidedly did not twirl but instead pretended to twirl in order not to actually fall down on him and break his adorable face.

I was then released back to my table with my parents and Big Husband, but my new little husband later brought me a flower to put behind my ear, proclaiming that it was my Christmas gift from him. And then he touched one of my earrings delicately and said, "I like your earrings, too."

And then my little husband left me for the Hawaiian dancer performing the hula on stage.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Geminid shower

Tonight there is supposed to be a spectacular meteor shower, so if you live in the Northern Hemisphere, you might want to step outside after dark and see if you can catch it....

This site tells you when the peak hour for viewing is in your area. Choose "4 Geminids," your city, and Dec. 13-14 2009 as the date. For the SF/Bay Area region, peak viewing is at 12:48 a.m.

http://leonid.arc.nasa.gov/estimator.html

I'll be at the beach, watching from a comfy spot in the sand.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

New discoveries this week

1. Moose munch with cranberries. Tasty.
2. According to conventional sizing charts, my boobs are one size larger than I thought they were, which means they are roughly equivalent to the size of watermelons.
3. It's never too cold to buy a bathing suit.
4. Cafe Pro Bono in Palo Alto. May I recommend the ravioli appetizer with the gorgonzola almond crack cocaine sauce?
5. Yoga is hard.
6. "Outlander." Which is kind of good if you don't mind rambling Scottish epic novels with typos in them.
7. 2005 Sanctuary Pinot Noir. Thank me later.
8. Searchable online coupons, which could have been saving me money for years.
9. Santa hats for cats.


Monday, December 07, 2009

Snow Day






This morning felt a bit like mild winter in Colorado, what with all of the fluffy white clouds and the blanket of snow in the hills.

I took a couple of photos on the way to work to commemorate this rare occasion.

Thursday, December 03, 2009

It's the most (f*cking) wonderful time of the year

My brain doesn't want to focus on this blog this week. I'm too distracted with the madness that is the month of December. Even my tweets are dwindling. The other day, I tweeted that if I had my druthers, I'd spend the entire month of December on a tropical island. Alone. Because here's what happens every December, without fail:

Everyone becomes insane.

Everyone is freaked out about buying Christmas gifts for everyone else, and planning their family get-togethers, and sending out Christmas cards and putting up the Christmas tree and BEING FESTIVE GODDAMIT. Is anyone actually able to enjoy this month any more? Anyone over the age of 12? Besides my friend, Diane, who finished her Christmas shopping before Halloween, just to piss the rest of us off?

Because, frankly, this frantic scurrying around, trying to find meaningful, non-shitty gifts for everyone, fucking sucks. And I feel like a loser because I haven't put up a Christmas tree or baked a cookie or watched "The Sound of Music" or had any eggnog or gone to Christmas in the Park, and to be honest, people? It's possible none of that stuff will happen this year. Because I can't figure out when it's going to be possible. But I know that I am supposed to HURRY UP AND ENJOY CHRISTMAS DAMMIT.

I'm sending pleading emails to family members, begging them for their Christmas wish lists and approximately -5 of them have responded. That's to be read "negative five," to emphasize that NO ONE has sent me their list (which is a lie, now, my mom sent hers today but THAT'S IT) and I'm about to get very un-Christmas-spirity and send a nasty email letting everyone know that if they don't send me their lists, they're all getting liquor for Christmas and I'm showing up for the family gathering drunk. Which isn't too far removed from any other Christmas, but I'm trying to be CHEERFUL and GIVING and THOUGHTFUL here.

I need their lists now because I refuse to go to an actual store to purchase gifts. I haven't physically gone Christmas shopping for a couple of years now, since I found myself sobbing in the REI parking lot because I couldn't find a gift for my brother-in-law (which by the way, HARDEST PERSON TO SHOP FOR EVER). When that happened, I realized that A) I was taking Christmas way too seriously and B) I could never, ever go shopping for Christmas gifts again. It's so much more pleasant to buy everything online and then cross your fingers and hope it arrives on time.

To make my life just a skoch more difficult, I've created a couple of Christmas projects for myself -- namely a calendar that I plan to gift to all of my family members and a photo Christmas card, which we have yet to even take the photo of! I apparently was struck with amnesia in November and forgot that I am liable to go fricking bonkers during a NORMAL Christmas season, much less during one in which I've created "fun" projects for myself. I must hate myself. At this rate, it may be February when our Christmas cards finally go out.

Anyway, I know I'm making a bit of a mountain out of a mole hill, but I do this every year. Some day I'll have it all figured out, and by then I'll probably be 70 years old and I can give everyone chocolate covered cherries and slipper socks for Christmas every year and everyone will think it's charming. Until then, I've got some snarky e-mails to send.