girlfiend

Lawmummy tagged me for this meme which I’m pretty sure I’ve done before, but I can’t find it in the archives so I’ll give it another go.

Five things you might not know about me.
1. I seriously considered moving to Portugal to be with a guy I met on vacation.
2. Howard 100 is my favorite radio station, closely followed by Sirius 26, Left of Center.

3. When it came to dance and gymnastics I was hopelessly uncoordinated and I was always incredibly embarrassed when I was forced to engage in those activities in elementary school and summer camp. I could never do the grapevine properly and I once caused an entire line of people to fall when I turned in the wrong direction during an open dress rehearsal for a musical.

4. Last weekend I got a haircut and I hate it.
5. I’m five books away from completing the 50 Book Challenge and I have only two more days in which to do it. Last night, because I hadn’t read it and it seemed like an easy read, I picked up a book that I’d otherwise never consider reading from my pre-teen library. I got to page eleven in about two minutes, and it was so bad I had to put it down. The book? The Boy-Oh-Boy Next Door, a Full House book about Stephanie.

Because it only cost $50, my mom (Jew) purchased a Christmas dinner for eight (ham) from the culinary arts teacher at her school and threw a small dinner party. I’d written a whole story about it, but now that time has passed, I think I’m better off listing some of the events that make it a typical gathering with my mom.
1. My mom threw her dinner party in her studio apartment. She lives at the shore most of the time so she has next to nothing in the apartment. She bought plates from the dollar store for the occasion and served pink martinis in a coffee press. Nothing says Cosmo like coffee grinds.

2. A few hours before the party half of her guests, a family of four, bailed. She had to scramble to find two other guests.

3. One of the last-minute guests, a guy she works with, has a tattoo of his nickname on his arm. Classy. (And I’m sorry if any of you were once drunk enough to get your own fucking name tattooed on your body, but really, it’s asinine)

4. After dinner my mom handed out a few gifts. She regifted some Bliss products my cousin gave her for Chanukah to her good friend, and gave us gifts from family friends. The Fiendling got a book. Boyfiend and I received a cake knife and server set.

5. After the gifts she served dessert. She asked me for the cake server I’d just opened. I told her no.

6. The first dessert, a yule log with meringue mushrooms, was horrible. She offered coconut custard pie as an alternative. She cut an enormous slice of pie and handed it to me. I told her it was way too big and Boyfiend offered to share it with me. He grabbed a fork and with my fingers I popped a coconut flake in my mouth.

7. I almost spit it out. “It’s salty,” I whispered. Boyfiend took a whiff of the pie and nearly gagged. “It smells bad,” he said, and passed it to my mom’s good friend who smelled it, wrinkled her nose and burst out laughing.

8.We stood around the plate giggling and my mom asked what the problem was. We told her and she said, “Oh no. I must have taken the seafood quiche out of my car instead of the coconut custard.”

9. We all gaped. The conversation went something like this:

“Wait, you have food in the trunk of your car?”

“Yes, I’m having another dinner party on Christmas Eve at the shore and I have a dinner for someone from work. I don’t have room in the fridge here.”

“But it’s 50 degrees outside, you can’t keep food in your car.”

“It’s not that warm.”

“Yes, it is, and tomorrow’s supposed to be 60. You have a seafood quiche and a ham in the trunk of your car? That’s not safe.”

“Two hams, some sides, a few pies and a quiche. It will be fine, leave me alone.”

10. I don’t think leaving a ham in the trunk of your car on a sunny day is ever fine, nor is it a particularly good idea.

11. Leaving eggs and seafood in the hot trunk of one’s car is even worse than leaving a ham.

12. Before we left my mother encouraged me to purchase a meal from the culinary arts teacher for Easter. I declined.

13. Upon arriving home Boyfiend and I both felt ill. In time we realized that it was the idea of the food, not the food itself, that was the culprit.

Isaac, Howard, the Fiendling and I, in a bout of too much togetherness that may have been fueled by the large purple dinosaur on the TV, just shared a bowl of dry cheerios. Who knew cats liked dry cereal? And who knew the Fiendling was so into the art of imitation that he’d attempt to eat the cereal using only his face, just like the cats. The bowl, luckily, was too small to fit his large head inside so he settled for using his hands, occasionally feeding me a cheerio while he was busy chewing.

My cell phone officially shit the bed. I’d blame it on the Fiendling’s love of chewing technology, but really it’s my fault for letting him and dropping it a few times too many. We took a ride out to the cell phone store the other day, as I’ve been itching for a camera phone. It’s tough taking pictures for the Unfortunate Fashion pool when you have a real camera. It turned out that I wasn’t eligible for an upgrade until April so I’d have to pay way too much money for any phone at all, including their shitty, no-frills models. The woman at the counter, clearly in love with my handsome baby whispered, “Go across the street to Radioshack, buy a pay as you go phone and swap the sim card.” Sure enough, for $20 I got a cheap ass, but working phone, and if it lasts until April I’m golden. I can wait until then for a camera phone. It will be a belated birthday present to myself.

After purchasing my new, cheap phone we got news that we’ve been victims of identity theft. Sweet, right? We got a call from a store’s fraud prevention department thanking us for our order, which obviously we never placed. The fraud department was closed by the  time we called so we ended up talking to someone in the sales department who was pretty damn useless. He was able to tell us what was ordered and that it would be delivered to us, at our house, by Fedex the next day. Then the information got fuzzy. My name was somehow linked to the order and he said I’d placed it on 11/25/05. Huh?

The next morning, yesterday, I called back and spoke to the fraud department. Someone opened a store account in Boyfiend’s name online and ordered $3500 worth of cameras. Oddly, they put our address and phone number on the order. She didn’t have my name on any of her information, but she was able to give me the number to cancel Boyfiend’s store account and she canceled the shipment. When Boyfiend called later he was told that we had to each put fraud alerts on our names and social security numbers.

Of the three credit organizations I was able to see my credit reports for two. The one that I placed the fraud alert through wouldn’t let me see my credit report because they’re assholes who want you to buy fraud insurance before they’ll let you see your FREE credit report. Now I have to wait until they mail me some packet with some code so I can do it online. So far, based on the two I could see, it looks like I’m okay and that no one’s opened anything in my name. Boyfiend was only able to see one of his reports for some reason and that one was fine, but still, someone out there has our name, address, phone number and his social security number and opened an account in his name. They have my name too, which is completely different from his since I never changed it after we married. It’s all scary and pretty fucked up.

Friday I got a call from the stupid tech department of the computer warranty company. At the time it looked like they were going to replace my laptop. The manager was waiting for official confirmation. That was Friday. I’ve heard nothing since. So I might get a new laptop free. Or I might not. We’ll see.

After a rather uncomfortable week my sister-in-law, with contractions five minutes apart arrived at the hospital to learn she was only a centimeter dilated and was going to be sent home. But then they checked her urine and saw she had pre-eclampsia  and admitted her anyway. The Fiendling’s first cousin, a beautiful baby girl with a lot of hair, was born yesterday around 6 p.m. via c-section.  Mom and dad were exhausted, but happy. I can’t wait to go back to the hospital to visit today.

I feel like this has been the longest week ever and it’s only Thursday.

You’d think, based on my previous obsession with them, that as soon as the jeans fit, really fit, I’d have said something, but somehow that milestone passed without too much fanfare. The jeans are now slightly too big. In fact, all of my pre-pregnancy pants, at least those that are seasonably appropriate are a little on the loose side.

The scales say I’m not quite down to pre-pregnancy weight, which I believe since my tops are all still too small. I’m not certain (like the pants it could just take time) but I’m pretty sure the Fiendling officially stretched out my ribcage forever, and my extra-small and small button-down shirts will never button without weird gaps again. Even the t-shirts are way too small, hitting my belly button instead of my waist. But that’s okay. I can live with a stretched out, uneven ribcage if it means I can wear my way too expensive jeans.
It took about nine months, just like all the books said. I thought that despite the 60 pounds I’d somehow get around that and lose all the baby weight by six months, but I was wrong and three extra months weren’t so bad. Now that my stomach is flat and my ass is regular sized I can go back to obsessing about whether or not my arms look fat.

The only reason that I’m admitting to this is because I know I’m not the only one (desperately) trying to get my child interested in TV for a little peace and semi-quiet. I am currently watching Barney. The Fiendling occasionally glances up from his current state of on-the-go and does a little baby dance, but for the most part he’s completely disinterested. I think Barney’s pretty lame too, but the songs are pretty damn catchy.

Other shows he’s not interested in include Teletubbies, Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers, Caillou, Dragon Tales and some show about a singing sloth. My mother swears he likes the Simpsons but I’ve seen no evidence of this at home.

Last night I woke up coughing at two in the morning and it didn’t stop for two hours. I haven’t mentioned this lately, but bronchitis sucks. Sucks, I tell you. After the coughing finally subsided after two doses of cough medicine and plenty of mind over matter self-convincing, the Fiendling woke up at four for an early breakfast. We both went back to sleep, but my god, I am tired. He woke up bright and early and crawled to the edge of our rather high bed and slithered right off. I grabbed his ankle just before the 6 inch drop onto hard wood floor. He thought it was a laugh riot. I just want to go back to bed. A nice morning of PBS kids would be lovely.

I’m running out of time. I need suggestions for some easy reading so  I can complete the 50 Book challenge this year. Otherwise I’m going to have to count the dozens of Boynton books I read repeatedly. 11 to go.

• I just had a really hard time deciding whether or not to watch the Gilmore Girls or One Tree Hill. Gilmore Girls won, but only because it recorded a day earlier. Boyfiend and the Fiendling are both sick now that I’m well (well being relative since I still have bronchitis which only seems to strike in the middle of the night through the early morning hours) which means that I get the TV to myself after 9.30. No Eagles, no Flyers, no shows on the History channel that I’d probably find interesting but refuse to give the chance. So here I am drinking wine (a lovely 2001 Merlot) and watching Gilmore, which was actually pretty good last week, though I’m underwhelmed so far this viewing.
• Earlier today I found myself pondering that the toilet flusher gets stuck sometimes and the water runs and runs.  However it seems like it only runs after I’ve pooped. Is that because I flush the toilet extra hard? Or is it merely coincidence?
• Yesterday the following sentence came out of my mouth as a truck refused to let me cross even though I was fully in the street when it passed: “Nice. You’re so fucking Jesusy with the cross hanging from the rearview mirror that you have to cut off a woman with a stroller.”
• The Fiendling has an amazon wishlist, yet I’m too embarrassed to pass the link on the appropriate parties. I don’t want it to seem like begging, yet I don’t want a buttload of inappropriate toys that will just clutter up the house. It’s a conundrum.
• I planned on hosting a Hanukkah dinner Sunday night because my mom (Jew) told me she wanted to come over Sunday to make latkes. Then my dad (non-Jew) called last night and asked why I was having Hanukkah a week early. I looked it up and sure enough he was right and my mom was wrong. So I emailed everyone and told them I was an idiot and rescheduled for next weekend.
• This past weekend it occurred to me just how much I miss Junkiegirl. Waah.
• The Gilmore Girls is so lame I may have to stop it and watch OTH instead. I am so cool.

On my way to the computer place my car started making an ungodly squealing noise. It needs new brakes and rotors to the tune of more than $400 and I’m sure they’ll find more.  Now it too is in the shop.
The good news? The Fiendling is happy and healthy. And I have a huge pot of beef stew simmering on the stove downstairs. If I’d been paying more attention during my food network addiction I’d have saved more wine for the cook.