On the birth of our friend’s baby:
Him: is there any word on a name?
Me: Kaitlin
Me: its in a photo or status update
Him: booooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnng
Me: you just heckled a baby?
Him: I heckled the baby’s parents
Him: they should have named her Huskerdu
Him: Huskerdu McCouch
Add comment September 22nd, 2009
I’ve moved to a new apartment. My new-to-me shower head is one of those detachable jobbers with a hose that hangs down. Annoyed by how the hose obscures things in the basket that hangs behind it, I decided that I needed to change out the shower head. I enjoy being able to take the shower head out of its holster and lazily rinse myself off, but despise its hosey leash. Obviously, I realized this morning, the solution to the problem is a wireless shower head. All I need is the teleportation technology to catch up and mobile spray nozzles will be mine.
Add comment February 18th, 2009
After months of wondering, I’m pretty sure my knee will someday soon not send electric currents of pain through my leg when I fall. That the pain limited to “when I fall” and not “when I walk or sleep or stand up after sitting for too long” is amazing to me.
After a reminder from a friend to be honest with myself about my intentions and fears regarding derby tryouts, I’ve found it surprisingly easy to apply that honesty to the rest of my life. The results have been mixed, but mostly positive.
On that note, I’ve learned that asking direct questions and not accepting half-assed responses sometimes gets you the answer you expected but didn’t particularly want.
I have more faith in my acupuncturist than in my HMO. If he did pap smears I’d never go back to Kaiser again. I’m kind of glad he doesn’t though… that would be creepy.
Hope is amazing, fragile and frightening.
Derby and the people I’ve met through it save my soul on a daily basis.
I can live without gluten, sugar, booze and yeast based products. I’ll probably try to still cut out a lot of the sugar and wheat, but I’m very excited to reintroduce bourbon back into my diet.
There is some form of wheat and sugar in every pre-packaged processed food I eat. Except for Amy’s Kitchen frozen foods. I want to have Amy’s babies. She’s saved my sanity.
If your refrigerator dies and comes back to life and you have to buy all new food, that may be a good time to decide to change your diet. Not, say, 2 weeks later when you’ve already bought a whole lot of food you can no longer eat. I’m looking at you cheddar cheese… you taunt me.
I can be frustratingly difficult towards my boyfriend. I am grateful that he is patient.
He can be frustratingly difficult towards me. I hope I can show him the same kind of patience and understanding he shows me.
We can cook an entire Thanksgiving meal for five people and not kill each other. Not even once.
If you’re going to slice your finger open, best to do it the day after Thanksgiving.
I just might want to be doing something better with my life.
4 comments December 3rd, 2008
My acupuncturist is awesome. He’s managed to help me take a lot of the edge off the knee pain. He asks me intuitive questions that none of my HMO-Hospital Doctors ever do and that I never think to bring up, like “How do you sleep?” and “You sometimes have heart palpitations, don’t you?”. He’s pegged my nervous personality and calls me out on it. He’s aware of the fact that it is insanely hard for me to relax any muscle in my body. And he sticks needles into my soft fleshy bits. It’s kind of creepy, but very cool.
My acupuncturist works out of the back of a crystal shop, which I initially thought was very weird. But then I remembered I used to get bikini waxes in a shed behind a woman’s house when I first moved to LA, so maybe I shouldn’t judge. Also, the metered parking in front is only a quarter for an hour and you can’t really beat that.
My acupuncturist has some inspirational art on the walls. After he’s done looking at my tongue, taking my pulse and sticking me with needles, I’m left alone for about 15 minutes. If turn my head to the right, I look at a lovely photo of a beach and a boardwalk. If I turn my head to the left, there is a poster with sky, a river and mountains with an inspirational quote in a generic new-agey script font. It is kerned wrong. And while I’m trying to relax, trying to let the needles do their job and using this time, this precious mid-work-week break, to just chill out a little bit, a part of my brain is screaming “ITS THAT FONT YOU HATE AND IT IS DONE WRONG!”
Do you think there is an acupuncture point for relaxing the anal retentive typography dork screaming in my head?
Okay, Roger. Your turn.
2 comments November 14th, 2008
I like chicken caesar salad a lot. It is my go to salad when I’ve not brought my lunch. I understand that by adding chicken, I am deviating from the original caesar salad recipe , but besides the addition of a protein, I am a stickler for the basics or acceptable modern modifications thereof. These are things beyond lettuce, croutons, Parmesan cheese and chicken that have been in my salads that should not have been, from least offensive to most offensive:
Pita chips
These were put in instead of croutons. Not a heinous transgression, by all means, and in fact pretty tasty. Acceptable to advertise as this dish as a chicken caesar salad.
Tomatoes
Maybe they just don’t know. “Tomatoes are a salad item! They should go in this here salad I’m making!”
No. They should not. I will scoff at your lack of culinary knowledge, but I understand your caesary intent.
Sauteed red peppers
Sauteed green peppers
Sauteed onions
Sauteed mushrooms
This is the only time I can recall ever returning to a restaurant and asking for my money back after having ordered a to go lunch. All of these items were placed, still hot, on top of a bed of mixed greens. If this is, in fact, “how you make” a chicken caesar salad, you need to a) advertise on your menu that you are adding foreign items into a standard, understood salad or, b) stop calling it a chicken ceasar salad. If I can’t trust my standard lunch, what can I trust in the world?
And yes, I just blogged about my lunch. Suck it.
3 comments September 30th, 2008
I have been having kind of a cranky week. I’m trying to highlight the good bits.
I won my weekly football pool full of cops. They got beat by a girl. Awesome.
I was gifted with some cuddly bourbon by my favorite Armovs.
I got a package for one Mizz Schnozz out the door and I am VERY EXCITED for her to get it.
Scott’s game is nearly bug-free which means I might see him sometime in the next week.
I can’t skate in the Baby Doll Brawl, our game featuring our newbie skaters, because of my knee. It sucks but I’m working on possibly have a fun, sassy job instead.
Take that, cranky!
4 comments September 18th, 2008
So much for skating anytime soon. I possibly have a tear in a ligament or the meniscus in my knee. I’ll know more for sure after an MRI and a follow up in six weeks. I am very very sad about this and have decided that the only thing that will help is if people send pictures of their cute animals. Bunnies, cats, puppies, fish. Whatever. I’ll accept babies as well. It would help even more if the cute animal/baby in question were perhaps holding a sign of encouragement. Am I asking too much? Maybe. But maybe so was Kennedy when he wanted the US to go to the moon.
1 comment September 10th, 2008
Tryouts for sub pool were yesterday. I did not move up.
Am I pissed? OH YEAH. 90% at myself and 10% at the universe and everything in it.
Did I do everything I could to make it through? Probably not. But by the time I realized that it was too late.
The upside? I don’t ever want to be this angry at myself again. It’s not pretty. I know what I have to do and it involves a lot of hard work and skill repetition. It’s going to be like an 80s movie montage over here until the next tryouts. I am going to punch the next tryouts in the face. It’s going to be awesome.
The other upside? I’m going to go to Target after work and have some retail therapy. Sub pool may be out of reach until the next round, but pretty new shoes, you will be mine.
1 comment August 25th, 2008
Yes you, Vegan Zucchini Bread people! I see you googling for no-egg vegan zucchini bread recipes with my super powers of word press dashboard stats. I hope my recipe is answering your vegan zucchini bread questions. As a favor to me, would you, if you try the recipe, let me know how you like it and what can be done to improve it? I take suggestions very well. Thanks!
Add comment August 23rd, 2008
Fine. Fight about who has more houses and what defines “rich”. But seriously, leave the arugula, lattes, sushi, cheese… Just leave the food out of it, please. It’s food. It doesn’t get to vote.
Add comment August 21st, 2008
But really I’ve used that device a bit much lately. So I’ll just lay it out straight. I’ve recently made some adjustments to a prescription *coughcoughbirthcontrolcough* I was on for over a year. When I started it, my doctor said something like “If you start having any issues with side effects, cut out coffee and chocolate.” And, apparently, my will to live.
But I did it, dear reader. Drinking coffee made me want to hurl. Eating food, for that matter, made me want to hurl too, but I gave up the coffee and eventually graduated from saltines to big-girl food. I switched to tea and started feeling superior at how much money I was saving by making my own tea at work rather than buying coffee.
But this morning, unfettered by constraints of pill-induced nausea, I threw caution to the wind and got a large (A LARGE) coffee from the evil coffee corporation. AND IT WAS GOOD. REALLY REALLY GOOD. So good in fact that I had this conversation with my boss:
Her: How are you this morning?
Me: LOVELY
Her: I think that’s sarcastic….?
Me: NOPE! I’VE HAD COFFEE AND AM IN A REEEEAAAALLY GOOD MOOD!
Her: Are you sure you’re okay?
Maybe I need to baby-step back into caffeine. But OH GOD COFFEE NOM NOM NOM.
Also: Ask me about frozen watermelon margaritas. Go ahead! The answer is always going to be: SO DELICIOUS.
This post brought to you by the letter: beverage.
2 comments August 18th, 2008
Welcome back!
But please stop. You’re not cute. You’re annoying. Now go away.
<3 <3
me
2 comments August 8th, 2008
I’ve spent the last week being a huge excuse-maker. It’s gross.
Stop it, me.
This has been me publicly calling myself out. Buck up you fucking pansy.
Add comment August 7th, 2008
I work in an old brick warehouse, built in the 1800s. If it’s windy outside, we can feel it through the mortar. Our earthquake drill consists of my boss yelling “GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT” and then running down scary metal stairs.
I need a beer now.
Add comment July 29th, 2008
I will be going to Rollercon from Thursday through Sunday.
The weekend after I get back, I will attempt to make chocolate bread.
I’m skating. A lot. And getting better. New date for tryouts is in about three weeks. I’m planning on making sub-pool. Rar!
(I also have a plan b… you know… staying in fresh meat. But I really don’t wanna.)
Add comment July 29th, 2008
Things I said to the plumbers before I left work yesterday:
“Under the cabinets are clear, do you need me to get anything else out of your way before I leave? No? Okay then.”
“Please be careful of the ant traps I bought yesterday and laid down near where you might be working.”
“The cats shouldn’t be a problem but they might try to do a runner if you leave the door open.”
Things the plumbers did while I was at work yesterday:
Take everything out of my bathroom and dump it on the floor in front of the litter box in the closet. Including my toothbrush.
Abscond with or misplace my face soap. (What the hell, plumbers?)
Knock giant holes in my walls.
Throw away half of the ant traps.
Spill the other half.
Move furniture.
Not put anything they moved back.
Didn’t clean up.
As a bonus they didn’t lose the cats.
Add comment July 19th, 2008
If, just a suggestion, you made yourself acquainted with things like “the gas pedal” and “second gear” perhaps it wouldn’t have taken you twice as long to get to your destination as it should have. THREE of your fellow route drivers passed you.
And, you suck.
Add comment June 27th, 2008
I started seeing I was getting a lot of hits from people searching for the word “twergi”. I didn’t know I was popular enough to be googled. Unless apparently, these serchers were looking for a fancy cheese grater (oops). I wanted to see what all the fuss was about so I googled myself.
Have you ever gone home and looked through your family’s photo album? Did ya see the photo from sixth grade… you know the one. You were wearing that ugly hat that you thought made you look so cool with some kind of “world art” pin on your cardigan. Okay, now imagine the douchebag who was your frenemy in high school made copies of that photo and drew a mustache on it and pasted it all over your new town. Thanks, guy!
It’s actually pretty funny, but it was kind of a struggle to figure out how to respond to someone mocking me for a homework assignment for a ridiculous class I took six years ago.
Well played, Bushwick Social Club. As a former resident, its nice to see someone embracing the Bushwick, rather than trying to convince people you really live in East Williamsburg. Hope the L train is better at night now!
Add comment June 20th, 2008
Inspired by this post.
This started as a comment, but so much came to mind I wanted to expand.
My dad had the most lovely, all encompassing belly laugh and bright twinkling blue eyes. You couldn’t help but feel sunshine pour into the room when he was particularly tickled by something.
His bottom two front teeth never came in and he was very self conscious about the two tiny baby teeth that would peek out of his mouth if he smiled too big. He always looks stern in posed photos, but it was all to hide the teeth.
Whenever he cooked he made enough to feed ten armies, even when he only needed to feed himself and my sister. There was no halving recipes for him.
He had a special dimple on one cheek. When he was a young man, a motor from a boat fell on him, although I can’t remember the exact circumstances. I just loved that dimple.
I never saw him without a beard. Although his hair never turned gray or fell out, his beard was salt and pepper and got whiter with age.
He was a competent ballroom dancer. I wish now that I could have kept up.
He had a lingering distaste for kimchee from his tour of duty in Korea. Every year his sister would buy him a jar and for a year, we would live with an untouched jar of kimchee in our fridge until the next Christmas brought its replacement.
Thanks to his excellent green thumb, I have childhood memories of running through corn fields and eating fresh fruits and vegetables off the plants in our back yard.
He loved a good story about his girls and when he found one that seemed to be a hit, he would perfect it and retell it every chance he got. In my story, he caught me on top of the upright piano in the famly room and asked me what I was doing. My reply, at the tender age of 3, was “Getting down, Dad.” He had to make a hasty retreat to the basement where he laughed until he cried before coming back to scold me. Every time he told this story, he would repeat “Getting down, Dad” as if it were the cleverest thing he’d ever heard and I would secretly beam with pride that I could make him laugh, even when I was the horrible age of 14 and pretending to be mortified.
We had a standing phone date on Sundays while I was away during high school and college. This made for some awkward conversations when he started calling my college dorm room at 6am because “it was the only time he’d be sure to catch me in my room.” If my roommate answered, he always introduced himself by his full name. “This is Gilbert Lasher. I’m calling for Jessica Lasher.” She always told me I could tell him to just say “This is Jess’ dad” but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks sometimes.
It will be six years this week since he passed away. In some respects it seems like it happened 20 years ago. In others, just yesterday. I still miss him every day. I think he’d be pretty pleased with how things have turned out.
2 comments June 13th, 2008
me: i can fit two girls in the trunk of my new car
Rummy: thats so random
Rummy: i can fit a boy and a girl in the trunk of my car
Rummy: how do you know?
me: 
Rummy: nice
Rummy: thats how i checked too
Rummy: except i had the balls to close the trunk
4 comments June 3rd, 2008
ankle baking beach beer bruises camera derby dream elbow elephants food grr hate IM kaiser knee margaritas math money oh noes pain photos pity party psa recipe rick-rolling roller derby san diego sexy bruise time soy milk spaz sprain stab stupid fuckin fuck taxes teh suck tired topenga vegan violence wheels yay zoo zucchini