Saturday . April 19 . 2003 . 10:03am new toys We're still in the honeymoon period (as it were) of reveling in the newness and fun of our wedding gifts. A few evenings ago, we made bread with our new breadmaker (thanks, Brendan!) and malted milkshakes with our new blender (thanks, doctor friends of my parents!) to go with our tasty grilled tuna steaks courtesy of George Foreman himself (thanks, other doctor friends of my parents!). And today, we got a set of new everyday plates, which made me very, very pleased. They are bright green and shiny and I will be happy as a little girl to eat my food off them. The story behind this set of plates is that they were selected to placate me after I ceded the choice of fancy plates to Joe. See, I wanted to get regular white plates for everyday use and get these plates for when guests come. Aren't they nice? So elegant and lovely, they even make your food taste better. But Joe wanted to get these plates. Simple and matching more stuff, but in my opinion, kinda boring. But you can't say "boring," you have to say it like this: "BO-ring!" Anyway, what kind of a hose job is this? I'm the girl! I'm supposed to choose the plates! And the boy isn't even supposed to care! He's just supposed to be like, "Uh, OK, whatever you want, I don't care about plates or linen's 'n' things, just poke me with a stick when you're done girling it up, I'll be asleep in the corner." So anyway, there was disagreement about the plates. But somehow, in order to prove that I was not a bossy control-meister, I had to "compromise" and we registered for the plates that Joe wanted. And as for the cheaper, everyday set, I got to choose, but of course, lovely as the Kiwi set is, a corner of my heart longs for the Samoa. And I'm so mad that Sara and Jason registered for the Samoa dinnerware and accessories, because if they cannot be mine, no one can have them. So the moral of the story is, Joe is a big, bossy jerk. (I sound like such a brat. Thank you for all the lovely dishes, and gifts, family and friends! We heart you and do not deserve such finery!) Speaking of brats, I think that the doormen in my building must think I'm some kind of millionaire heiress living off some rich relative's inheritance money or something. Maybe it's like in that game "Life" where the rich uncle dies and leaves me his skunk farm. (I know in the game, this is billed as a disadvantage and you have to pay money to the bank, but did anyone think of selling the skunk farm? See, this is why I'm a genius.) I mean, take a look at me from the doormen's point of view. 1.) I don't have to go to work. 2.) Apparently, my only responsibilities include walking the dog, going grocery shopping, and getting foot massages. 3.) I get multiple packages from Crate and Barrel and Macy's every day. 4.) I'm 24 years old and unemployed, but still manage to live in a huge apartment in a doorman building situated within a nice neighborhood. This is all very strange to me. I know that the tides will turn come June 27th, when my residency starts and I will prove to the world once and for all that yes, I do indeed have a job outside of my home (and a backbreaking, low-paying one at that), but for now, I'm uncomfortable with the perception that I'm some kind of trust fund baby. * * * So I was watching "Felicity" yesterday, and I have an objection to one of the plot details in the episode. To quickly recap, Javier and his partner Samuel want to have a child, so they're looking for an egg donor. They find a college student from Smith who is willing to give them her eggies, but when she finds out that they're a gay couple, she says No Way José because she's from "a small town in Iowa" and she's just freaked out by gaylords. OK, reality check time. Why, of all the colleges in the land, or even in the Northeast, did the writers pick Smith? I mean, if you want to find a student who's all like, "Gay people? Woah, I've never been exposed to that before, that's freaky and wrong" then Smith is not the school you want to look at. I mean, have you been to Smith? And, more broadly, have you been to a women's college? It's like Gaylandia over there. Even if people aren't gay, they're all falling over themselves to prove just how open and comfortable they are with the idea of gayness. I mean, not to generalize or anything, but dude, I was there. I lived it. Which is why I was staring at the show in some disbelief yesterday evening as they showed the Smith student fleeing Felicity's apartment because she was afraid the evil, scary gay couple were going to molest her precious eggs. * * * I just finished reading Summer Blonde, by Adrian Tomine yesterday. Four stories about pathetic, lonely, angry people. Why are cartoonists so sad? The art and writing reminded me a little of Daniel Clowes, though I'm not saying that his stuff is derivative. Now I'm reading 32 Stories. I feel OK about reading these books now, as opposed to saving them for the plane ride, because they read so much quicker than regular novels that they're not worth the effort of dragging them around in my luggage. * * * Certain Dri Challenge: Day 3 OK, this product definitely works. There was some minor itchiness after the most recent application, but really very minor, and with no visible manifestations of skin irritation. There has been no wetness whatsoever, not even the mild dampness that I would expect at day's end. It has completely shut down the sweat. I'm telling you, this stuff works. Today, I will try the ultimate test: the button-down work shirt. xo Michelle Countdown to the wedding: 8 days Projected weather: Partly cloudy with 20% chance precipitation, high 59°/ low 46° |
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Saturday . April 19 . 2003 . 10:03am new toys We're still in the honeymoon period (as it were) of reveling in the newness and fun of our wedding gifts. A few evenings ago, we made bread with our new breadmaker (thanks, Brendan!) and malted milkshakes with our new blender (thanks, doctor friends of my parents!) to go with our tasty grilled tuna steaks courtesy of George Foreman himself (thanks, other doctor friends of my parents!). And today, we got a set of new everyday plates, which made me very, very pleased. They are bright green and shiny and I will be happy as a little girl to eat my food off them. The story behind this set of plates is that they were selected to placate me after I ceded the choice of fancy plates to Joe. See, I wanted to get regular white plates for everyday use and get these plates for when guests come. Aren't they nice? So elegant and lovely, they even make your food taste better. But Joe wanted to get these plates. Simple and matching more stuff, but in my opinion, kinda boring. But you can't say "boring," you have to say it like this: "BO-ring!" Anyway, what kind of a hose job is this? I'm the girl! I'm supposed to choose the plates! And the boy isn't even supposed to care! He's just supposed to be like, "Uh, OK, whatever you want, I don't care about plates or linen's 'n' things, just poke me with a stick when you're done girling it up, I'll be asleep in the corner." So anyway, there was disagreement about the plates. But somehow, in order to prove that I was not a bossy control-meister, I had to "compromise" and we registered for the plates that Joe wanted. And as for the cheaper, everyday set, I got to choose, but of course, lovely as the Kiwi set is, a corner of my heart longs for the Samoa. And I'm so mad that Sara and Jason registered for the Samoa dinnerware and accessories, because if they cannot be mine, no one can have them. So the moral of the story is, Joe is a big, bossy jerk. (I sound like such a brat. Thank you for all the lovely dishes, and gifts, family and friends! We heart you and do not deserve such finery!) Speaking of brats, I think that the doormen in my building must think I'm some kind of millionaire heiress living off some rich relative's inheritance money or something. Maybe it's like in that game "Life" where the rich uncle dies and leaves me his skunk farm. (I know in the game, this is billed as a disadvantage and you have to pay money to the bank, but did anyone think of selling the skunk farm? See, this is why I'm a genius.) I mean, take a look at me from the doormen's point of view. 1.) I don't have to go to work. 2.) Apparently, my only responsibilities include walking the dog, going grocery shopping, and getting foot massages. 3.) I get multiple packages from Crate and Barrel and Macy's every day. 4.) I'm 24 years old and unemployed, but still manage to live in a huge apartment in a doorman building situated within a nice neighborhood. This is all very strange to me. I know that the tides will turn come June 27th, when my residency starts and I will prove to the world once and for all that yes, I do indeed have a job outside of my home (and a backbreaking, low-paying one at that), but for now, I'm uncomfortable with the perception that I'm some kind of trust fund baby. * * * So I was watching "Felicity" yesterday, and I have an objection to one of the plot details in the episode. To quickly recap, Javier and his partner Samuel want to have a child, so they're looking for an egg donor. They find a college student from Smith who is willing to give them her eggies, but when she finds out that they're a gay couple, she says No Way José because she's from "a small town in Iowa" and she's just freaked out by gaylords. OK, reality check time. Why, of all the colleges in the land, or even in the Northeast, did the writers pick Smith? I mean, if you want to find a student who's all like, "Gay people? Woah, I've never been exposed to that before, that's freaky and wrong" then Smith is not the school you want to look at. I mean, have you been to Smith? And, more broadly, have you been to a women's college? It's like Gaylandia over there. Even if people aren't gay, they're all falling over themselves to prove just how open and comfortable they are with the idea of gayness. I mean, not to generalize or anything, but dude, I was there. I lived it. Which is why I was staring at the show in some disbelief yesterday evening as they showed the Smith student fleeing Felicity's apartment because she was afraid the evil, scary gay couple were going to molest her precious eggs. * * * I just finished reading Summer Blonde, by Adrian Tomine yesterday. Four stories about pathetic, lonely, angry people. Why are cartoonists so sad? The art and writing reminded me a little of Daniel Clowes, though I'm not saying that his stuff is derivative. Now I'm reading 32 Stories. I feel OK about reading these books now, as opposed to saving them for the plane ride, because they read so much quicker than regular novels that they're not worth the effort of dragging them around in my luggage. * * * Certain Dri Challenge: Day 3 OK, this product definitely works. There was some minor itchiness after the most recent application, but really very minor, and with no visible manifestations of skin irritation. There has been no wetness whatsoever, not even the mild dampness that I would expect at day's end. It has completely shut down the sweat. I'm telling you, this stuff works. Today, I will try the ultimate test: the button-down work shirt. xo Michelle Countdown to the wedding: 8 days Projected weather: Partly cloudy with 20% chance precipitation, high 59°/ low 46° |
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