Category: Humor

Drama, Humor, Weird June 25, 2009

Trojan Horse

“I can always tell which is the front end of a horse, but beyond that, my art is not above ordinary.”
-Mark Twain

A new horror! I go to the gym everyday and there’s a girl who works the front counter there. Since we see a lot of each other we’ve struck up a sort of friendship: I tell her the dramatic goings on of a police department, she tells me the ridiculous tales of a gym. The other day she asked me how far off the wedding was and when I told her, “Next week,” she got a dark look on her face and said, “Stay away from horses.”

“Why?” I asked intrigued.
“My family keeps horses and I’ve ridden all my life. So I was out riding a couple of weeks before my wedding and when I was taking off its tack when I was done it kicked me in the head.”
My jaw dropped.
“I was in a coma for three months,” she continued, “and had to do months of physical therapy when I woke up. We got married after all that, though.”

Completely at a loss for what to say to that (“Crikey?” “Good on ‘ya?” “Congratulations on being currently upright?”) I just mumbled, “Wow…” She waved me off to the weight room cheerfully, “I’m sure that won’t happen to you! See you tomorrow!”

Family, Humor, Marriage, Weird June 23, 2009June 25, 2009

Hello, My Name Is…

“Identity is such a crucial affair that one should not rush into it.”
– David Quammen

Being bored at work can lead one into all kinds of mischief but one of the most deadly sort is Facebook quizzes, you can piddle away years of your life with those things! I know people who believe in those things religiously and will say triumphantly, “Yes! I knew I was that particular shade of the Personality/Color test! This explains my bad luck with men,” or “If I were an animal I’d absolutely be a sheep.” However, if my Facebook quiz results are to be believed, I’m a very contrary person:

identity_crisis “You are fashionable, fabulous and sharp witted.” Well, I hope so. “You most resemble Alexander the Great: you are an excellent leader, enjoy power, and are ambitious.” Er, guilty about the power hungry bit…but that seems to clash with, “You are a natural homebody, you enjoy quiet and don’t like to take the lead.” Then there was, “You are a sign of happiness in many peoples’ lives and bring hope to the masses,” which is immediately juxtaposed with, “You have no friends. You get what you want and it doesn’t bother you to deceive others to get it. People are intrigued by you but don’t trust you.” Ouch! “You are spunky with a dash of sass, but somewhat untouchable.” That’s a lot nicer sort of intriguing than the You Have No Friends approach! But…”You have a tendency to suck the life out of people, leaving them a tragic wreck of their former selves.” Double ouch! I’m then complimented by the outcome of, “You are very intelligent and always think before you act,” which is a flat out lie as proved by the next diagnosis, “You tend to have a temper and say things you wish you could take back,” which is unfortunately true. “You’re a major klutz!” Duh.

Of course, I’m also in the midst of quite another identity crisis: this is my last week of me having my name! Which means that not only will my driver’s license (which took months to get an American one!), social security, passport, etc. change…but I have to figure out a new signature! I’ve had mine for years, how on earth does one go about making a new one? My future last name is all very nice, but it’s not my original last name so it still feel a bit uncomfortable when I try out my new one by writing it. I’m sure I’ll adapt. My mother hyphenated her last name (making her sound very English Country Gentry) but I don’t have that option because all the syllables together would just sound ridiculous. I’m hyphenating my middle and maiden names (which incidental will create my mother’s aforementioned fabulous one) so I’ll keep them all, but it’s still seems bizarre to be tacking another onto the end of it.

But actually pretty neat too!

Drama, Humor, Wedding June 22, 2009June 25, 2009

Sitting Waiting Wishing

“I’m finalizing everything this week so I can spend the weekend panicking uninterrupted.”
-C.

Yes. I am painfully aware of ny neurosis, thanks. — Yes. I am painfully aware of my neurosis, thanks.

Good grief, I’m getting married in nine days…and worst of all, mostly everything is done! I get to make a million and one confirmation phone calls this week, and then sit around twiddling my thumbs and waiting for everything to come crashing spectacularly down.

Any second now J. is going to awaken to his danger and take off running. My immediate and extended family will decide not to show up…or they will, and get into a huge fight culminating in a salad slinging war throughout the luncheon site. The florist will die of swine flu and they’ll send her final creations to her funeral in tribute instead of the reception. My family’s luggage will tumble out of the plane halfway between London and Chicago. Mika (my loveably but hyperactive dog) will sneak her way into a suitcase and reduce my gown to shreds in her excitement. There will be an awful gas leak at the salon which, thanks to the oceans of hair spray that are going into my, Mama, Snickers, Venice, Marie, and Peregrine’s hair, will result in a doubly horrific explosion when a stylist goes outside for a ciggy break. One of J.’s exes will kidnap me to prevent the nuptials (seriously, could happen. Our department is running security on an wedding that’s happening on campus for this very reason). I’ll stumble groggily to the car way too early in the morning to go get my hair done and halfway to the city realize I’ve forgotten everything. The wedding license will spontaneously combust. Despite all my careful working out and eating, I’ll wake up the day of so plumped up with stress that my dress will pop open at the seams when we try to force me into it. I’ll trip going down the stairs at my flat and end up in a bodycast and with a mouthful of broken teeth (this one is actually most likely…).

Though ludicrous, and yes I do realize they are, these are real fears. But I’m not alone. Yesterday both Darling and Mama gave me slightly more realistic-but no less-terrifying possibilities to consider: my family’s luggage could not arrive (never mind being left at Heathrow!), and everyone could come down with food poisoning! J.’s family, on his mother’s orders, will probably be eschewing all restaurants ‘twixt now and then, and I’ll be popping vitamin C likes it’s candy to ward off the cold several helpful and loving friends insist is coming (you jerks!).

Family, Friends, Humor, Scandalous June 16, 2009June 17, 2009

When It Rains, It Showers

“Arrange food, wine, and a sit-down orgy for fourteen.”
-A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum

Let me recommend Parties by Venice, Inc. for your next soiree! In spite of a torrential downpour, the girl threw me an absolutely fab bridal shower: almost everyone invited came, the food was delicious, and the games were fun (as opposed to the usual shower games that make the victims want to set fire to their obligatory toilet paper dresses).

The presents were absolutely scandalous (loved ’em) and, as you see, did not result in my demise at the hands of his shocked relatives! In addition to silk and lace, I also got a funny slip with sheep all over it from Marie (a tribute to our sheep-infested trip to Notherumberland last summer), a cookbook from Darling (presumably to aid in the feeding of her son), and an IRON! Which marks a huge step in my career as an adult, seeing as I’ve gone five years without one by relying on friends’ and bringing my clothes into the bathroom with me to shower. Marvelous!

All in all, this shower was a great improvement over the last time someone tried to give me lingerie! The summer before I went away to university, my family and I were travelling around, visiting our extended family and we stayed a week with my grandmother who is an…interesting person. Well, one day she took me aside and said she had a present for me and led me into her room where she pulled something out of a drawer.
“You’re going to be meeting all sorts of people and boyfriends at school, so you probably need something a little sexy.”
I felt my eyes bug, but was too deep in shock to stop what was happening. Grandma whipped out what can only loosely be described at lingerie and I nearly choked.

A little too close to the article in question for comfort. Seriously. No, seriously! — A little too close to the article in question for comfort. Seriously. No, seriously.

It looked like something Shirley Temple would wear! Gathered at the neck, the SHEER material fell in pleats to the waist and the bottoms looked like the decorative cover one puts over a baby’s diaper. It was obviously old (and previously owned…by my grandmother…gah…) and a faded shade of grayish pink which only added to the horror. Easily the most disturbing thing I’d ever been forced into contact with.
“Now,” Grandma began, “when two people are dating and like each other–”

I bolted from the room sputtering and collapsed on the couch by my parents laughing. Later I think my mother tactfully informed her that the, er, inter-personal aspect of my adolescent education was something they had covered, thanks very much, and it wasn’t exactly her place to give me The Talk at eighteen. Much less encourage wanton promiscuity, seeing as I was going to a conservative, religiously funded school. My grandmother got offended.

Family, Humor, Wedding June 12, 2009June 12, 2009

Horrors!

“Calm me down. Tell me I should buy the croissants instead of make them!”
“Holy mother of baking…buy the croissants, woman and don’t be ridiculous! You’re throwing a small shower not a presidential ball, I forbid you to bake a single french pastry!”
-Venice and C.

Venice is throwing me a bridal shower tomorrow…J.’s mom and sister are coming…and all of my friends have been asking me my lingerie sizes. If I never post again it is because I have either A) died of humiliation, or B) been killed by his affronted family!

At least we’ll die well-fed! Venice just called me at work to confess she’s gone overboard with the cupcakes (red velvet of course) and has dozens. But when I said, “Yeah! More for us!” she came back quickly with, “Wedding in less than three weeks. Dress, dear.” She is such a good friend.

Drama, Humor, Work June 11, 2009

Pantsgate 2009

“Mws. Venice, I can’t find my pants anywah!”
-one of her students who can’t pronounce his R’s

Having finally let go of (most of) my rage about the incident I am about to relate, let me share the tale of The Brotherhood of the Traveling Pants.

No couture involved! The Devil wears police uniforms!

One of my less enviable jobs is doing the laundry for the department. When I first started we were with a company that picked up and delivered our stuff as part of their service, which we loved. However over time we found their service also included the smashing of zippers, losing of uniforms, discoloration of the same (most memorably turning some silver patches a most ungentlemanly shade of pink), and dishonesty about accounts…all of which served to outweigh the convenience of delivery. After various warnings, cajoling, and threats, we switched to a new dry cleaner.

With tolerance for laundry mistakes at an all time low, I honestly expected some officers to be annoyed with longer-than-usual turnarounds, etc., during the switch. I did not expect that Lt. South would come to me about clothing that was missing almost immediately. This happened three weeks ago…and instantly the scandal took over my work life!

Without fail, three times a week South lectured me about locating their clothes before we staggered out the door burdened with laundry baskets. Then off to the cleaners with Hennessy where we were lectured on how they are a model of integrity, business acumen, whatever…but still unable to find the missing items. Back to the office to be subjected to scorn for failing to find four shirts and three pants (because the loss of those items by the individuals or the cleaners is clearly my fault). Cue the Chief and Lt. Figaro both taking me diplomatically aside to urge me towards “better efforts” in finding the articles. Week 2 rolled around and we escalated to South going down to the cleaners, to bully them into finding his pants I suppose, and the cleaners immediately seeing this as antagonistic (no idea why) chose to punish me and Hennessy with ever louder defenses. We were ordered to carry increasingly vicious responses back and forth and adequately punished by both sides for thm…a double case of Shoot the Messenger. According to their records, South’s pants had been signed, sealed, and delivered.

Honestly, I believed the cleaners. I’m convinced that half of the lost/misplaced problems we had with our last cleaners were purely officer operator error. The guys wouldn’t label their things, or just do it improperly, find items that didn’t belong to them but neglect to turn them in, and never failed to whine to their lowly secretaries when a problem arose that us girls literally had no control over.

By week three I was so sick of the heckling, whining, and lecturing that I yanked Lt. Colossus head out from where it was buried in the sand and flat out ordered him to get us a master key to go through all the lockers in case any of the missing clothes had managed to find their way into them. Sure enough, one pair of pants had meandered into Lt. Citrus’ shirts…the which he entirely neglected to mention even though Wise sent out two emails asking any unclaimed or unknown stuff to be turned into us.

That left two. I spent nearly twenty minutes talking the cleaners off their Righteous Anger ledge with Hennessy before we trudged back to the office emptyhanded again yesterday.
“Well?” demanded South as we stumbled into the office laden with laundry not belonging to him.
“No luck,” I said, “They’ve asked you to call them so they can work out restitution–”
“They can call one of you, that’s what you girls are for,” he rolled his eyes.
I could have gleefully disemboweled him with a hanger!

AND THEN! This morning, Susie came up to me as I was giving a pants update to Aims and Sport.
“You’ll never guess,” she breathed almost maliciously.
“You’ve found them!” I gasped.
“South did…in his home closet.”

Small Dog wants to lay some HURT on!!!!!!

I felt my face drain in anger. I’d spent three weeks getting abused by my supervisor, lectured by my boss, barked at by our dry cleaner, dragging my friends an co-workers into it, being slapped in the face with my own lowly station as a secretary maliciously and repeatedly, and forced into the roll of Resident Wench On Behalf of the Entire Department. I’d spent several hours delivering laundry, trying to ameliorate irrationally angry people, and leading a witch hunt for pants thieves…only to find that the man who had started it had FAILED TO LOOK IN HIS OWN CLOSET? Moreover had failed at any point in the last month to check and see if he already had the items, convienently marked “Delivered?”

Apparently my wrath has an effect. After trying to joke once about how the last three weeks “gave me something to do” and being met with my evilest of vicious stares, he hasn’t been seen in the front office all day. In fact he’s been using the back hall to get around instead. Good.

Humor, Life, School, Work June 10, 2009November 29, 2011

Pondering

“I have never let schooling interfere with my education.”
-Mark Twain

Realizing that I’m about to brand myself a hopeless nerd, I have to admit I am horribly jealous that J. gets to go back to school this fall. This is really the first autumn in nearly twenty years that I’m not going to be in school (I don’t count last year’s because I was still whirling from the dizzying feeling of freedom) and it’s a little odd to realize how sad I am over the thought.

I really loved school, especially university where I got to immerse myself in a topic for months at the time and come out feeling like I really did know something about the subject. I got to study things I genuinely loved and had an interest in, so major projects and papers were seldom a chore (unless I procrastinated horribly).

And believe it or not, I’m wretched over the idea of not buying armloads of books this fall! Maybe those of you who currently attend my Alma Mater are stretching your eyes incredulously over such a lapse in financial judgement, but unlike lots of my friends I seldom had to eat Ramen for a month in order to pay for my books. The majority of my classes relied on novels, primary sources, history books, anthologies of writings from every conceivable century, essays, etc. and I absolutely refused to sell most of them back to the campus bookstore (except for one semester when I was well and truly starving and had to sell back a book on classical Greek civilization from the earliest city-states through the Persian Wars. I nearly cried, and when I saw how little I was going to get back for it – compared to what I’d originally paid – I nearly abandoned the plan…but I needed food).

I was talking to MyFavorite a while back and when he asked me what it’s like working full time instead of being in school, I told him all of the above. We also discussed the oddness of being in charge of one’s own continuing education. Lots of people seem to finish school and never tax their brain again, I live in fear of mine starting to atrophy! I swear the process has already started! It takes effort to get home from work, cook, clean, manage bills, make future plans, and still pull out a book instead of turn on the TV. Instead of someone else teaching me, I’m entirely responsible for what goes into my head from here on out.

Frost wasn't entirely correct, it's more like "Two million roads diverging-" at times.

In that same vein, it’s not just the stimulation I miss about school, it’s also the framework university sort of set up for life. Each semester had a distinct beginning, middle, and end so you always felt as if you were actively moving through life instead of just being pushed along by the current. Now, instead of this handy, cyclical way to make a year pass, post-graduate life by comparison seems like one long line stretching off into the distance.

That seems depressing…I don’t mean it to be, but it’s the best metaphor I can find. What I mean to say is that instead of having an Outside Force set up my life’s structure and passage of time, I’m now the only person who can do that. If there are to be any interesting breaks, sideshows, or detours in that long line, I’m the person who must take the prerogative of creating/finding/following them. And while the adventure of doing so is almost always fantastic, sometimes I do miss having that Outside Force doing it for me because I feel (looking back) that being ignorant of that Force meant I could simply live life and enjoy the ride. It’s no simple thing to be almost entirely in charge of your own destiny!

*Image (C) by Martin Liebermann, http://www.martin-liebermann.de, original found here http://www.flickr.com/photos/liebermann/580181284/

Humor June 8, 2009June 8, 2009

Gender. Confusion.

“I think so many people around here rush into marriage because they’re told not to have sex until they’re married and they’re desperate.”
“Definitely. Or they think marriage is their only option and it just doesn’t make sense to say ‘no’ if they have the opportunity.”
“…I think we may be looking at this through our gender perspectives here…”
-J. and C.

Last night J. came down from the city and as soon as he walked in the door I declared, “I’ve engaged us for the evening! Margot’s having a Tony Awards party at her house. Angel’s coming and she’s bringing her husband so you’ll have someone to make fun of us with.”
“But-but-” he gestured at the TV desperately, “NBA finals!”
“Oh, ok, you don’t have to come, but I’d like to go even just for a little while.”
“It’s ok,” he said quickly, “I can come if you want me to.”
“No worries, you don’t have to unless you want to.”

I could see the inner debate starting to rage: tell her what she wants to hear vs. the truth and possibly get hurt and have to spend hours/days doing penance.

menwomen Now, here’s the thing, I’ve never been A Girl about this sort of thing. Ever. Not the entire time we’ve been dating or even with any previous boyfriends. I am not going to drag a guy along to something he hates merely to be beautifully cruel and powerful, not only is it rude but nobody has a good time. So when I saw him struggling, I burst out laughing,
“You seem confused.”
“Well, yeah!” he said.
“You’re not getting punished, I’m not going to be bitter, and I’m not fishing for a right answer.”
The look on his face quite clearly said, This does not compute, so I just grabbed by bag and headed out the door saying cheerfully, “See you in an hour!”
Later when I asked him why after well over a year he’s still expecting me to suddenly turn evil he insisted, “Because someday, when I least expect it, I just know you’re going to get me with this one!”

It’s not the paranoia that offends me, it’s the lack of faith!

Fashion, Humor, Wedding June 4, 2009June 4, 2009

Prelude

“Tell me if I stick you with a hairpin or something. But beauty knows no pain, right?” (Sprays me with a whoosh of hairspray)
“HACK!”
“Or oxygen either, try not to breathe.”
-Stylist and C.

Yesterday I got a preview of what the wedding day is going to be like from a practical point of view, we took our bride and groom pictures together. Good grief! I spent twenty minutes picking up flowers, an hour and a half getting my hair done, another half hour doing my face (pore strips, scrubbing, messing up eyeliner twice…the usual set of catastrophes you have when you have something that you really need to look good for), and a mad ten minute dash trying to find things last minute. Even though I had amassed everything I thought we could possibly need earlier in the day.

Finally, my hair drenched in enough hair spray to drown Russia (my stylist was a little enthusiastic with the bottle) and my arms full of shoe boxes, veil boxes, ring boxes, and sheets to protect my gown, we decamped to our photographer’s studio to meet up with her and Darling. Then we had to get me into my dress when, horror! We found the back didn’t fasten at one point. Just as I was about to tumble down a well of fresh angst about my body type, L’Artiste discovered we just hadn’t done it up properly, so I haven’t gained weight but apparently I have lost brain cells. Things were much better after liftoff, L’Artiste is a fabulous photographer and had such fun ideas I can’t wait to see how they turned out. The only problem was worrying about getting my dress dirty and in the end it came out pristine! Don’t ask me how, I’ve no idea, I’m mostly concerned with being grateful!

Moral of the story: the wedding day is going to be a project, I’m going to have to get up at the crack of midnight to get everything together (factoring in several turnarounds to retrieve forgotten/misplaced items), and I will spend a day in a dress that deprives me of oxygen. And it will all turn out gorgeously.

…I hope…!

Family, Humor, Marriage, Wedding, Weekend June 1, 2009

Crunch Time…Can Wait!

“Oh how I love the crazy hedonism of weekends!”
-Calvin and Hobbes, Bill Watterson

We’re officially one month away from the wedding. Weird. J. and I spent saturday with his mother Darling going over everything for the luncheon, being dragged all over the site, made to debate the merits of table linens and centerpieces, and having to decide on a desert (we ended up picking two) until I was sure J. was about to claw his ears off so he wouldn’t have to listen to anymore. And frankly the luncheon is his parents’ party, they are paying for it, so if she wants to do the whole thing in barbie pink and fairy sparkles I’ll (grit my teeth but) not say a word!

Sunday I flouted my nutritionists (aka Venice and Miyagi) because Fairy threw me a birthday party! I ate two pieces of red velvet cake, stuffed myself on GS’s famous fruit salsa, accidental made Elle cry (SORRY!), and took lots of food home with me to continue ruining my eating plan with! Then I spent four hours gossiping with Fairy after everyone else had left before heading home, gorging myself on BBC and another half of cake, and heading to bed way too late. In other words, a great weekend.

Of course, with only a month to go that means we have at least one major project a week. Gifts have started flowing in, we’re having pictures taken on wednsday, we have to finalize guest counts for all the functions, figure out to get the out-of-towners (basically anyone related to me) around town, convince some of my other relatives (who are legitimately round the twist) to even come…sigh. Getting married, not for the feint of heart!

Small Dog Syndrome