my dirty little secret

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Shhh!! Get closer now, I’m not going to tell this to just anybody. (Thankfully, it appears that none of my coworkers has as yet found this little corner of blogdom.)

Are you ready? Closer!

Okay, here goes.

I am a Summer TV-Smut whore.

There, I said it. I know, I know, who would believe it, right? (*ahem*) Until recently, this sickness was limited to really only two embarrassing shows, at least for this summer: So You Think You Can Dance (go Jeanine!) and (*hangs head in shame*) The Secret Life of the American Teenager.

Granted, I have watched Secret Life since its entangled inception, watching with rapt attention the metamorphosis of Amy from naïve good girl to hormonal pregnant teen to jealous teenage mother (and my personal favorite metamorphosis: Grace, from the quintessential *Jesus Barbie* to new med camp graduate, with a little “My dad’s plane crashed because I got laid” in between). I could go on about the little quirky things that make me so addicted, or the moments that actually make me laugh out loud (“GROIN INJURY!!!!!!”), but I won’t get into all that here. Honestly, I don’t think I would have even classified this show as “smut” until recently, especially since this is a show directed to the tween & teen stage-of-lifers. But a week or two ago, I watched the show with a friend of mine who had never seen it before. And honestly? Trying to explain who all the different characters were made me realize this is a teen version of a late-night drama, or at best (worst?), a teen soap opera.

That guy is dating the girl with the baby.
That’s the father of the baby, who is sleeping with the girl who broke up the Jesus Barbie and her boyfriend the first time around, but who really wants to be with his baby mama.
That woman is the mom of the girl with the baby, who is currently pregnant with her ex-husband’s baby, and who just broke off an engagement with some other dude and is now contemplating dating some old friend before she decides if she’ll let her ex-husband move back in. (granted, the “old friend” turned out to be the ex-husband.)
That’s the slut. She dated her brother for awhile.
That’s the dad of the guy dating the girl with the baby. He’s engaged to a woman he doesn’t know was an internet-order prostitute, who went on a date with the Down’s syndrome kid.
He’s the dad of the girl with the baby. He installed a urinal in the garage.

Um, yeah.

So anyway, until recently, Adrian, the Teenage Whore and SYTYCD were pretty much my only two “I’m ashamed I watch this” shows. And then, one night, I just happened to be flipping through a few channels, nothing much was on, and I randomly stopped on some good ol’ Fox reality fun. And I can’t stop watching. Like, I’m addicted. And I can’t figure out why. But honestly, More to Love has me sitting on my couch on Tuesday nights, eating frozen pizza and trying to figure out just how that larger woman is going to manage to belly dance. I don’t really know what else to say at this point, other than I probably lost more brain cells last night than I inhaled calories. The show has sucked me in, and although I’m super glad the loud-mouth witch went home last night, and I’m not really sad about the loss of the painfully shy girl who had never dated before, I can’t wait until next week to find out which two are going home next (and which four aren’t).

The fall season needs to hurry up and get here. I can’t take the loss of any more of the few brain cells I have left.

Should I have been weirded out?

I think so too.

So I walk into the rest area on my most recent trip south, and they have put signs over each bathroom door. The women's restroom says "TEMPORARY MEN'S," while the men's says the opposite: "TEMPORARY WOMEN'S." Both bathrooms were open, usable. So I walk into the "temporary women's," and am slightly startled as I round the little corner, when there in front of me is a teenage guy scrubbing the urinal. Another person of the female persuasion has entered the washroom just before me, and asks, "Um, is this open?"

The kid responds, "Yeah! Go ahead."

So I hurry about my business, still kind of creeped out, and finish up and wash my hands. As I'm finally walking back out, I pass another woman starting to walk in the door. She sees the kid, who is about to start on the first stall, and the urinals along the wall, and stops dead with the deer-in-the-headlights look, then glances back to make sure she didn't walk in the wrong door. (I think it's that age-old childhood fear of accidentally walking into the wrong restroom at school.)

I laughed. (Is that wrong of me?!)

But, um, can anyone figure out WHY there would ever be a need to switch the men's bathroom & the women's bathroom? When both were completely usable? Weirdness.

that distraction inside of me, oh well

(this post is for andrea)

And now, for the long-awaited project! (Which, honestly, is partly to blame for my lack of reading lately. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.)

I took on a project a few (read: many) months ago as a present for my (insert completely non-hyperbolic, totally awesome word that exudes the awesomest awesomeness here) nieces. And then, because I suck lack the proper motivation, it took me forever to finally finish the project. But it's finally done, and with the exception of a crookedly-sown-on arm, I'm pretty satisfied with the result. But you can judge for yourself:


Making the frog body

The finished products:


Ms. Bear:

Mr. Frog:




Kudos to Amy Gaines, whose adorable amigurumi pattern made these backpacks possible. They were incredibly easier than I ever imagined them to be, and if I decide to do another one sometime in the future, I have full confidence I could get it done fairly quickly and quite well, thanks to what I learned this first time around.

How did I fall so far behind?

I am woefully behind on my reading list.

It was my goal this year to read 50 full books in 2009 - only a few more than what I read in '08. Shouldn't be too hard, right? It's not like I'm attempting Corella's 100. So far, though, I'm barely in my 20s (which, for me, is borderline embarrassing). Earlier today I was browsing through my goodreads, looking at all the wonderful books I read in 2008. Some of the bestest books I've read in my life, truly fantastic. A few not-so-fantastic, I'm sure, but all the same... I was reading. This year, my shelf is sorely lacking. Not just in quantity, but also in quality. Oh, there are a few really good books, and very few I wish I hadn't taken the time to read. But I have a lot of ground to make up. It's not like I have a lack of books to read; there are so many lying around at home I could easily reach my goal, not to mention the MUST-READs I have yet to get from the library. I better get crackin'. (But not your beautiful bindings, Coral - worry not!)

As for what I have read recently... the book that stands out the most is one that I won through a goodreads give-away, Valeria's Last Stand. I personally loved this book. I thought it charming, full of dry humor, and a very interesting portrayal of the life and desires of a stubborn older woman that nobody likes (and that returns the favor). That is, until the Potter. The book deals with the conflict of the old versus the new, the time-honored versus the newly advanced, old socialism versus new capitalism. It is quirky and almost playful, in an almost fairy-tale sort of old-fashioned Hungarian village set during present times. The characters are intriguing and unique, and their interactions with each other are clever and fascinating to me. I'm glad this was the first advanced copy I won, and I would totally recommend it. My only caution to future readers comes from a review I found: "The geriatric sex is unnerving." Nuff said.

can you touch your nose with your tongue?

I'll update more later, but until then, this is one of my favorite moments from this past weekend:

wordless wednesday

with your feet out, girl you lookin' good

My toes are not “normal.”

I’m one of those people who have toes that freak some people out – my second toe is longer than my big toe. Now mind you, I don’t have a complex about this. I pretty much don’t care. But some people seem to. My friend Dom commented on this phenomenon a few weeks ago, when after seeing my cutely-sandaled feet, he mentioned that he has a longer 2^nd toe as well. Although, apparently his “abnormality” (I hate that word) goes a bit further – all three of his middle toes are the same length, all taller than the big one. Maybe his pinky toe as well, but I really don’t remember. We commiserated a bit about how our “specialness” causes some people to recoil in seeming horror with but a glance at our poor little piggies. (What? You don’t have random 10-minute toe conversations at social gatherings?!)

I’d pretty much forgotten about that conversation until this afternoon in the ladies’ restroom closest to my cube-home (read: cell). First of all, I have to say: Ladies (I assume this goes for gentlemen, too, although I’m less experienced in that area), if you walk into a public restroom and there are several stalls open, never take the empty stall right next to another occupied stall unless absolutely necessary. It’s called common courtesy. But anyway – I was sitting there, taking care of minding my business, when someone entered the stall next to mine. Mind you, our restrooms are pretty bland, everything the same yellowish color, quite boring and utilitarian. As I guess public restrooms should be. So, you know, eyes tend to wander, and I happened to glance at the feet of the person next to me. And her poor little toes. The first four of which were all the same pudgy length. I couldn’t even see the pinky toe, since it was (I hope!) hidden under her sandal.

What went through my mind in this moment?
Eww. That’s weird.

I’m a toe supremacist.

(When I have absolutely no right to be.)
(isn’t that the way it always is?!)

a perfect disaster

I think I should create a weekly post called "Things You Should Never Say." This week's edition: Things Your Accounting Manager Should Never Say.

Are the letters on your shirt curved, or is that you? - K

Um, yeah. Nothing says uncomfortable like "Hey! I'm looking at your boobs!" If he wasn't so clueless, I'd be offended. He really didn't think anything of it at all. And if we weren't in an in-depth conversation about university logos (unfortunately situated on my shirt), it really would have been awkward. Good times at work.

In other news... My birthday was earlier this week. My very favoritest present? The phone call from my brother, in which my twin 3-year-old nieces sang Happy Birthday to me. Best. Present. Ever.

(So much better than the naked bike ride I *got* to witness in the city last weekend. Really? That is so not attractive.)

Okay. I'm going to go clean something now. Happy almost-weekend!

So you ask: What's new?...

One of the good (bad?!) things about having a dentist who is Greek-American: When he starts shaking his head and mumbling under his breath, you have no idea what he's saying. (Frankly, I'm going with *good*. I think I'd really rather not know.)

This has been an interesting last couple of weeks. Full of waiting, and thinking, and deciding, and a little more waiting. In the meantime, I finally managed to finish Labyrinth by Kate Mosse. My thoughts? Don't read it. I'm glad I stuck with it enough to finish, because although the first two-thirds seemed like a waste of time, it turned into a half-way decent book in the last third. She finally lost the awkwardness of trying to mix old-fashioned colloquial language and modern colloquial, which was just that - awkward with a hint of trying too hard. Which actually is how I would describe the writing at the beginning of pretty much every chapter for the first two-thirds... After she got into the flow of a certain storyline, the writing was okay, but until then there was awkwardness and entirely too much detail that had no bearing on the story whatsoever. And, you know, if I was a little more caught up on my French (ha.), I would have gotten more out of it, but as it stands, I wasn't impressed. Or better, I was disappointed. I usually tend to enjoy your more gothic-style books. I think I should've paid attention when I asked the waitress from Chez Pierre what she thought about the book when she read it, and her response was, "Um, well... There was an interesting twist ending!" Yeah, there was. Which I figured out about 100 pages before I was supposed to. Disappointed.

After all that, I started reading a book I had picked up from the library and had been anxiously waiting to read (kind of my "prize" for finishing the other one) - Girls of Riyadh by Rajaa Alsanea. I adored this book. Maybe because I was so happy to be done with the other one, but I don't think so. It is a fiction book, told in the setting of Saudi girl writing an email every week to a group of Internet subscribers. In the emails, she tells the stories of 4 of her friends, and their trials of life and love in the city of Riyadh (with a little Chicago, London and Khobar thrown in). I couldn't put this book down, especially the last night, which should have been two. While this story is told in the confines of what most would seem an incredibly restrictive society, there is an undercurrent to the story that is wholly universal - especially in regard to making life decisions because it's what is expected of us, rather than what is in our deepest heart of hearts.

Last weekend I was given the address for the website of the McHenry Conservation District, which basically has taken all the unused areas in the county and turned them into parks with trails and fishing and such. So last Friday, after leaving work just a tad early, I decided to stop by one not far removed from my way home. I really enjoyed it, save for the mosquitos that are now starting to make their appearance. I took a little "hike," around a lake and through the woods a bit. I was very appreciative that the trail was well-mown, because of course, I hadn't planned on walking through a park when I left for work and had not dressed my feet appropriately. Anyway, it was a nice little diversion, and I discovered something I don't think I'd seen before: purple honeysuckle. And lots of pink, with some wild sweet william thrown in along the way. I love this time of year.

If only I had known how very dangerous love was, I wouldn't have loved.
If only I had known how very deep the sea was, I wouldn't have set sail.
If only I had known my very own ending, I wouldn't have begun.
- Nizar Qabbani

when the baseball analogy goes too far...

Things you should never hear from the pulpit at church:

"Come to church on Saturday and get to first base with the Pastor!"

these words are [now] my own

One of the perks of working for a book company is the annual book sale. When we were still in Lex, I always made sure to go and get some awesome books. Last year, however, I managed to be out of town for the first big soirée since the transition. So, on Saturday I was able to attend my first insane book sale in the frozen north.

I totally should have taken a picture of the crazy-long line, but honestly, that probably would have seemed a tad creepy to my coworkers. I got there 45 minutes early, and by the time the sale was supposed to start, I was probably about halfway back from the beginning of the line. (I was told at lunch today that there were some people who were there at 5:30am. Um, yeah, even 25-cent books won't get me up that early on a Saturday.)

Anyway, I gave myself a limit - I only allowed myself 25 books. And 25 books I got. Here's my booty:

(There are actually 26 books here. I got the thesaurus as a "free gift" for buying books. Yay goodwill! [um, not the store...])

You cannot image the crowds of people in the back part of the warehouse I had to fight through to get these. There was no rhyme nor reason to the way the totes were arranged.... Everything was just kind of all thrown in together. All I can say is, I got these brand-new (although a couple obviously have been processed) for $6.25. Um, I would have paid more in library fines in order to read these same books.

This entire experience has led me to believe something....

I need more bookshelves.

(Also, my need for books is insatiable. Because 25 new books did not stop me from checking out a new one at the library. But hey - it was only one, right?!)

all I can do

Hey!

Hey you!

Yeah, you, on the other side of the cube wall!

I have a message for you:
14 oz. of lotion? Is. NOT. the same. as. bathing.


(apparently breathing at work has become an amenity.)

*pop!*

When I was home for Easter, I spent quite a bit of time with my beautiful nieces. One night while we were hanging out at Matt & Amy's, the girls had their first taste of suckers. In honor of the momentous occasion, Matt found the song Lollipop online, which the girls absolutely loved, as evidenced by Chloe's rendition below:

i can watch a sunset

Friday night before last I decided to go run around downtown Chicago for a bit. I've missed non-subzero temperatures, so I've been taking advantage of the decent weather as much as the semi-constant rain will allow. Anyway, I ended up spending a good amount of time sitting by Buckingham Fountain, which I hadn't actually ever seen before when it was warm enough to be running. It was beautiful, and a perfect place to catch up on some journaling and such.





(I'm still learning how to use the settings on my camera, so hopefully the quality of such photos will improve in the near future.)

I've also been trying to take advantage of the nearby state park on a more regular basis now that it's warmer. There are some great secluded spots by the lake that are perfect for some nice afternoon reading with the poochie.






There really wasn't much point to this post. So, um... Thanks for reading anyway?

all out of language

Here’s the deal. I know I haven’t been blogging at all lately. I have a lot of blogs in my head, though, so one day you’re going to come here and there will be a whole bunch of new ones or something. Or maybe I’ll just never get motivated and they’ll all stay in my head. Either way. But consider yourself warned, in case I ever do find my muse.

Things I’ve been reading lately… Not enough? On my last two drives to Kentucky, which were timed fairly close together, I started an audiobook that was actually very good, but that I only made it about two-thirds of the way through. Sometimes, when I’m driving for long stretches, listening to someone’s voice reading a story makes me sleepy and I have turn on noisy, fast music that I can sing really loud to in order to keep myself awake. But anyway, one day I’ll actually finish it, whether via the audiobook or the actual book, which is Gentlemen and Players by Joanne Harris. She’s a fantastic writer, and I already have another of her books in the backseat of my car that I’ll probably forget to read before it’s due back at the library.

Another book I’ve read fairly recently is The Darkest Child – I forget who the author is. (Dorothy something? I’d look it up, but I kinda just don’t want to.) I was actually surprised at how much I enjoyed this book, although it’s kind of hard to use a word like “enjoy” for a book that’s so dark and disturbing on so many levels. I read a lot of reviews by people who talked about how much they hated Tangy Mae’s mother, because she was such a horrible person, but I mostly just felt sorry for her, I think. People who would treat their children the way she did in the book have severe mental issues, and it’s mostly a shame that there weren’t people in their part of the world/level of society that could recognize how much help she needed. I thought this book explored very well the truth that love and hate are not necessarily opposites – Tangy Mae, as well as the other children, both very deeply loved and hated their mother, both for good reason. The perspective that the author used to tell the story from Tangy’s eyes was very effective and insightful. As long as you can handle the darker parts of the story, I would recommend this book.

I also recently read Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult. But if you want to read my review of that one, you’ll have to check out my goodreads, mostly because I don’t want to type it all out again. I started reading Labyrinth by Kate Mosse, but I’m already beginning to get bored with it, which isn’t a good sign. I’ll let you know if I actually make it through or not. I’ve also read a bit of pointless chicklit, but to avoid Coral’s positively encouraging comments about those, I won’t go into detail.

it's only finger-lengths that I see

Last weekend, I managed to sneak home for a long weekend to meet and hang out with the new nieces. We had a ton of fun!

Playing with Play-Doh (yes, I look completely insane. I know.)

Essie, making monkey faces in the car. One of my favorite pics from the weekend.

Chloe is apparently following in the musical footsteps of the fam

Essie is all about the hat!

Getting some lovin' from Mommy

We had a fantastic time. My only complaint was that the weekend was so short! Even so, I also managed to make a super-quick trip to Knoxville to see Sonya and her new little one:

Sonya & Daniel Isaac

where the deer and the rattlesnake play

I'm off to the homeland, back to the beautiful bluegrass state to meet the most beautiful little girls in the universe. And also a pretty darn cute little newborn boy, too. In my excitement, I'm wishing for copless roads and a wonderful weekend for you all. Cheers!

I scare children. Apparently.

Since yesterday evening was such a nice evening to be outside, I took my *project* outside with me for awhile and sat in the yard and let the poochie play for a bit. The two most adorable neighbor kids in the world live next to me, and for awhile they were in their back yard as well, with another kid from somewhere on the block. Betwixt the random screams of "Look, BIRD POOP!" and the sound of young children sliding off the roof of their little playhouse, I suddenly heard the neighbor girl, the eldest of the three, explaining to their friend as they all peeped through the fence: "That's little Cheetoh! It's just a little puppy. Here, Cheetoh! Come here!" Chico sniffed their fingers for about two seconds before sauntering away in his aloof little way. They stared through the chain-link fence for about two more seconds, then went back to sliding off the roof.

These kids are both fascinated with and terrified by me, although I can't really figure out why for either. Any time I'm outside and they're somewhere nearby, they grin shyly at me until I make eye contact with them and smile - then they run away and hide behind something. The next second they think I'm not looking, they creep back up and stare at me, watching very intently whatever I'm doing, whether it be working in the flower beds or mowing or reading a book in the sun. Or crocheting, apparently. Part of this I'm sure has to do with their age - I would guess the boy to be about 3-4ish, the girl maybe 5-6. Sometimes the girl, in her little blond pigtails, manages to offer up a quick wave before getting embarrassed. Last night was the first time I've really seen them since the brutal winter, so maybe sometime soon I'll be able to draw them out of their shells a little without scaring them (or their parents, of whom I've met only their mom, once, for a 5-minute conversation).

Any ideas how to pull this off?

(You know, other than dressing up in a dinosaur suit and singing children's songs.)
(Although I'm pretty sure that would REALLY scare their parents.)
(And me.)

wait for me, it won't be long

They're coming home, TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's all.



...I'll see you at home.

oh, deerie me

My friend, Chef Ryan, is now AWARD-WINNING Chef Ryan. You can check out the deets here. There's even a picture of him and everything! (#5) And if you are ever ever ever in the area, you should visit the restaurant where he's head chef. Because his food is AWESOME. And you will eat until you almost die from eating.

Congrats, my friend.