This Is War!

For those of you in the corporate world... or maybe not even just the corporate world, I suppose this topic would apply to anybody going to a "potluck" sort of gathering where you bring your food item of choice to the table for others to enjoy.

I, being the insanely competitive person that I am, see these events not as nice social gatherings but rather as WAR!

Bringing the most delicious dish, made from scratch, you want the recipe DON'T YOU! is the goal I have in mind for each of these occasions. Since my company seeks out reasons to eat (no really, it's WEDNESDAY we should have a potluck don't ya think?)I get many chances to go to battle over who can bring the most sought after food item quite frequently.

So far I've brought:

A cheese ball - yes, I really did and yes, it was tasty and dorky and YAY FOR ME!

Rice Krispy Bars with Chocolate Smeared on Top - per co-workers request, usually I wouldn't stoop to this level

Ginger-Nutmeg Spiced Muffins - mmmm these were excellent, but most were eaten before noon.

Key Lime Pie Tarts - miniature little key lime pies, definitely a big hit.

Which brings me to the upcoming potluck for the pre-Labor Day Weekend (SEE I told you they find ways). What to make?

Now that I have my stove back in working order and my refrigerator in the kitchen instead of the dining room the world is my oyster and I can tap back into my inner cook. Unfortunately I still don't have much of a countertop (pressboard) or a sink (in the living room) so my options are a tad bid limited. I can always do dishes in the laundry basin downstairs and use my roll out cutting board for counterspace if needed.

Here's some ideas I've been mulling around:

Crock Pot Baked Beans - I have this excellent recipe from my old daycare lady.

Marshmallow Melty Brownies - tried this recipe out about a month ago at a friends house because I JUST COULDN'T WAIT for my kitchen to be done... these were lovely.

Chocolate Chip Banana Bread - my specialty and I have 4 overripe bananas just asking for it

That's all I have for ideas. Which is pretty slim considering most days I just read food blog after food blog in search of the perfect meal. I would make my famous potstickers but those have to be eaten immediately from pan to mouth I think.

Who's got a recipe or idea for me? I HAVE TO WIN!

errrr I mean... I'd really like to bring something tasty for my co-workers to enjoy.

no pressure.

So You're Sick of The Kitchen Talk...

I'm sorry to hear that... but TOO BAD! Cause I'm on a roll people.

Yesterday I picked up what I hoped to be the LAST of the IKEA cabinets for the kitchen. Silly silly me... to think that you could ever STOP going to IKEA. I imagine they have me and MR.M's picture up in the employee break room, since we HAVE to be "customer of the month" award winners.

Amalah has already documented what is pretty much my same experience with IKEA thus far. What I don't get is when they act like, "Your KIDDING?!? All the pieces were there????!!!". Ummmm yea dillhole of course the pieces weren't there because you are now 3 for 50 on getting stuff to me the right way. I should get a damn reserved parking space.

ENOUGH.

Ok, so last night we had a huge fight after opening the boxes for the final cabinets. Naturally, this occurs everytime we so much as pick up an AKURUM cardboard box or even LOOK at one. We have concluded that it is the evil of IKEA to cause hate and cursing at your love one. Bastards.

Ok.. REALLY ENOUGH!

So, now I spend my work days looking for pink gadgets to adorn my new 50's aqua kitchen. Let me compile the list of wonders that I drool over daily:

Anything On This Site Please

The TOASTER put on this earth obviously for me and my kitchen. SHHHHH, we don't talk about money on this site, oh no we don't.

This will most definitely be mine. I am predicting a birthday gift and if that doesn't happen, well I'll just buy it for myself. So POO on YOU.

I did find a pink vintagecan opener that you attach to the wall. It's perfect.

These come in pink (although only pictured in Red) and I wouldn't mind keeping my baking supplies in them on the counter top. Yes, that would be very cute.

I'm looking for a pink food processor, which apparently doesn't and will never exist.

Might need to look for a pink tea-kettle but they seem to be readily available.

So if you're all sufficiently sick of my pink mania - I give you permission to stop reading now.

We Have a STOVE People!

The un-ending kitchen remodel is gaining momentum.

Black and White checkered floor - Check

Aqua Wall Paint - Check

Wall Cabinets Hung - Check (minus the two that are still on order)

Refrigerator out of the dining room and into it's desired destination - CHECK

Stove out of the dining room and in it's desired location - CHECK!!!

Dishwasher out of garage and in it's desired location - Check

So what do we have left?

Still waiting on 4 more cabinets from IKEA.

Measure for countertop

Mud walls in the nook

Sand and Paint walls pink in the the nook

Put in sink hook up plumbing

Hook up garbage disposal

Attach dishwasher hoses and electric

Order Knobs and Pulls, and attach

Put doors on all cabinets

Have mad sex on the countertop

Have mad sex on the new floor

For those of you still reading this un-believably boring post I give you the STOVE! As an added bonus, it actually works!

Why Must I Yearn

I don't think I'm a normal 25 year old woman.

I mean... aren't most 25 year olds living it up, going to bars every weekend, partying with their girlfriends, living with roommates in apartments, etc etc???

That is what my 22 year old sister is doing and that is what my 27 year old brother is doing. So what's up with me?

I'm remodeling a kitchen that belongs to my live in boyfriend. I do our laundry and think about what's for dinner around 2:00. I don't go out out on weekends and have all but quit drinking completely. I bake cakes and take cake decorating classes, I like soft music that calms my soul, I like bubble baths with candles and reading, I like sensible flat shoes and have given up on killer heels except for special sexy occasions, I sing in the alumni choir at my college, and I feed our cat whom is much more like our child.

So what's my point.

My point is that I spend all day reading blogs about mom's to be, bride's to be, cooks and chefs. I read blogs about people who are nothing like me and yet I'm facinated.

I hate reading blogs about "I got so wasted last night that I..." or "this boy doesn't like me but I have a date with blahblahblah tomorrow night so....". I just don't feel connected to those people. I feel connected to mommy bloggers and soon to be married women. The major problem with this is that I am neither a mommy nor soon to be married.

I would like to stop wanting this if I could please God.
Can't I just be in my house and love my man and not worry about the "when will he" "when will we" "what if he never" "what if he's too old" "what if we run out of time" crap???

Last night we were watchin TV and he blurts out, "aaaah fuck it lets get married."

silence

and again, "aaaaah fuck it lets have a kid."

silence again

Now what the hell am I supposed to say or do when he does this? My immediate thought is he must be thinking about marriage and children and for some reason is blurting out his answers without telling me what the argument is in his brain.

I don't want to yearn for other peoples lives because if there is one thing I've learned in my 25 years on this planet it is that things happen at the right time. Sometimes things happen and it seems so utterly awful at the time but a year or more later you're thinking "thank GOD.."

So, do I get myself some patience? Or do I acknowledge that my ovaries are tuggin on my heart strings reminding me that I'm of birthing age and find myself a man who wants to marry me and give me children.

SLAP SLAP SLAP
Who the F*CK just said that... certainly not feminista ME!?!

EVERYBODY CHILL OUT!!!

I got honked at twice on the way to work. TWICE I tell you.

For some of you in highly traffic ridden cities this may not be something that you would even notice let alone blog about, but for little old me here in Minneapolis... it's a rare occurrence.

Midwesterners don't like the horn. They really would rather purse their lips and grumble under their breath than flat out swear and honk at you.

This morning, I was on my way to work and decided to stop for a Mocha at Starbucks. There is a wacky parking lot at Starbucks as it is part of a strip of fast food restaurants. Also, because we're in Minnesota and you can never make your parking lots or street accesses easy. They must appear to get you somewhere but really never do. It's a thing... we like to keep the new people driving in circles, it's part of our passive aggressive nature.

I pulled into said wacky parking lot and it is true that I did not look to my left to see if someone was coming. So, yes, I'm sorry little convertible lady with REA on the license plate. Don't you think I already realized my error when I saw you? Do you really think it was necessary to lay on your horn and flail your hands wildly in the air. Added to the fact that I hadn't had any Mocha yet which might have been the cause of my obvious faux paux.

Onto Mr. Honker #2.

I received my tall Mocha (no soy, low fat, hold the whip, extra shot bullshit for me thanks) and proceeded out to my car.

I should mention here that last summer for some reason the bolts in the driver-side door of my car fell out meaning that I could no longer open the door and have it stay open, it just goes where it wants to, which is usually closed.

So I put my change purse and keys in one hand and my Mocha in the other - opened the door with my pinky. You would think when I opened my door with my pinky that it would not be forcefully swinging open - which it wasn't. It was slowly opening. so I reached in to put my Mocha in the cup holder, so I could situate myself, as one does. My door lightly rests on the one next to it.

HOOOOOOOONK HOONK HONK HONK

Blaring honking comes from my immediate left. I snap my head around with my slightly damp curls swinging to the side. Inside the car is this crisp shirt, blue tooth wearing, clean shaven, ASS HOLE swearing at me about denting his car with my door. WTF dude! Like that little thing was going to scratch your stupid volvo you ass. So I did the act of pretending like I cared looked at the side of his car and shrugged my shoulders as if to suggest "wow, I just can't see any damage on your big expensive car, so sorry mister."

So get this. He doesn't even say anything to me. Just waits till I pull out, exits his car and goes in to Starbucks to get his soy latte non-fat grande 2 shots pain in the ass coffee. All the while pretending to look super important with his star trek blue tooth thingy attached to his ear.

PUHLEEEESE Chill the F*CK out people. It's morning for chrissake.

endrant.

On The Brink

We just had a fight

People always say that arguments are part of every relationship.

Why does it have to be that way?

Why can't you just love each other.

Why do we let other things in that make us argue

Why am I up here writing this and he's down there steaming.

Why can't we just kiss and make up

Why won't he even allow me to explain what I said?

Am I not being true to myself?

Sometimes I worry that I became someone else so he'd love me and now I have to be that someone else or he will leave. Except the real me fights and claws its way to the surface only to scratch at him. Then he knows... that I'm not who I seem to be

My heart actually is aching right now.

So is my stomach

Life without him... wouldn't be life

What if he isn't the one?

If he told me it was over right this minute. What would I do?

No money. Just a car, piano, bed, and some clothes.

Where would I go?

How could I go?

why won't he come up here ... wrap his arms around me and tell me it's all going to be ok?

Warning: Cool Shoes Don't Blend In

I'm a very regular girl. No no no no.. I don't mean just regular regular. I mean, I hit the bathroom at exactly 10:00AM everyday to poo.

Yes, I'm sorry fellow co-workers, but I can't help that my body has it's own time schedule and that it just happens to feel the need during your work day. Trust me I would rather be in the comfort of my own bathroom too.

There is a problem though, with the whole 10:00 AM thing.

You see, I wear cool shoes. I always wear interesting colors or styles . Everyone comments, "cute shoes!" I have pink low top converse, red/black Mary Jane Doc. Martens, Patent Leather Franco Sarto Loafers, Aqua slip on 2 inch heel sandals, and the list goes on.

My shoes don't blend in. I don't blend in.

So, when I enter the bathroom for my 10AM appointment, I check under all the stalls. If their are feet anywhere. I postpone the meeting due to crowding.

Because, you see... I like to do my business alone. Is that too much to ask?

I know, that if I go in there and sit down, people can see my shoes. By seeing my shoes they know it's me in there. Which means, they also know that stench is coming from me as well as the occasional, dare I say, sounds.

Maybe this is childish. Maybe I need to read the book "Everybody Poops" again. I just need a little privacy to attend to such matters.

Either that, or start wearing boring shoes.

My Boyfriend's Back and lalallalallala

Finally - he's home safe with me and the kitten.

We made love like teenagers and it was quite lovely.

He got lazy on his trip and started growing a gotee because he didn't want to shave. Which doesn't make much sense since if you're already shaving around the gotee then might as well get that off too - guys help me out on understanding this one.

No likey. Too scratchy, didn't feel like I was kissing my man. It was removed promptly this morning.

I slept in a bit just because it was so nice to rub my feet on his in the bed this morning.

I Feel a Blog Post Coming On

I woke up this morning rather happy and excited as my dear man is coming home tonight.

I decided to stop for starbucks this morning as a special treat.

I got to work and my boss was coming in at the same time I was. Good morning's were exchanged.

here's where it starts to piss me of

I open my inbox and there is an email ... I'm getting reemed for not saving the most recent questionnaire file to the G drive blah blah blah.

I grit my teeth and right a "smooth over" email.

I get another email from my Cool Boss (CB) saying that my co-worker was nice enough to point out that it was in fact my turn to go to a networking event since she's gotten to go the last few times and travel for the National Conference. I respond to CB saying that I'd love to go to the networking event as long as it didn't hurt my standing for going to the next National Conference.

Maybe things will actually be nice today!:D

This morning before putting on my shoes I sprinkled a little bit of baby powder in them, since I'd be going with out socks or nylons. Don't like the sweaty stinky feet all day... ya know. Which seems like a logical thing to me.

Office Asshole (OA) says in the loudest most booming voice possible "WHAT THE HECK IS ALL THIS WHITE DIRT ALL OVER THE FLOOR???!!!"

My head snaps around and I say "well, lets deduce the possible answers to that question."

OA booms, "LOOK AT THAT IT'S ALL AROUND YOUR CHAIR, IT LOOKS DIRTY"

Shaking my head and turning back to my computer, "why do I even bother listening to you"

OA walks away grumbling.

now I'm seething.. just a little bit. Why should I be embarrassed about trying to not have stinky sweaty feet at work. You should be embarrassed if you DIDN'T take the precautions to avoid such an undesirable condition of the feet.

I get an email response from CB. Turns out that I should probably take the opportunity to go to this networking event now because I may never get to go to the National Conference. Because, even though they spout of on a regular basis about how they want us to get as much training, experience, and networking as we can relating to our jobs, they dont' really mean it. They really mean - only the big wigs who don't actually do any of the work should have these opportunities and us peons should just go back to our cubes and lower our eyes when they pass.

I have to say I liked the company I got hired for. I really did. I don't like the company I've been merged into. I don't think they value all the job levels. The old company cared about you even if you were only there a month. You were treated with the same respect and given the same opportunities as the people who had been there 25+ years. This new company is not impressing me.

endrant.

Hello Pinot Will You Marry Me

Hello Pinot... my new friend. I like your buddy Shiraz and Cab. a bit better, but you will do for this evening. Thank You for joining me.

After my brief visit to Vegas to visit my love, thoughts of marriage have been on the forefront of my brain. This happens pretty regularly when I visit Vegas, something about the atmosphere there makes you feel and breath romance. According to Mr. M if you go there alone... it makes you feel extremely lonely. It's as if Vegas hightens all feelings and seeks out all addictions. In the immortal words of my dear man, "if you have a leak, Vegas will find it and bleed you dry."

errr. Hey, Pinot... where were we? Oh yea.. marriage

I have a confession. Something my dear friend Pinot brings out in me... the whole confessional thing.

One day, I found Mr.M's email inbox open on our home desktop computer. Many times he has said (and I agree) that there are no secrets on that computer. If you save something, read something, type something etc etc on that computer it is free game. No secrets. Unfortunately, I should also exercise a level of respect for my partners privacy and on that particular day I did not.

I briefly scanned the email inbox for the names or subjects that jumped out at me. Various women from his past whom he still speaks to (and is very forthcoming about) or subjects that might suggest a topic that might be pertaining to me. I'm a bad bad girl.

The problem for this type of awful deception is that, what IF you find something?!?! If you find something hurtful, painful, unfaithful, or whatever... you have no way of validating your inexcusable snooping so the argument kind of cancels itself out.

Of course I didn't find anything hurtful or unfaithful on Mr. M's part. He's just not that kind of guy. Too honest for his own good. However what I did find was a lot of talk about marriage with his various female friends. The usual conversation was, "when are you gonna marry her?" his response was usually, "soon". To which they responded, "do it, and while you're at it make it a big giant ring will ya?!?"

So what do you do with that kind of information? Soon?!?! What does that mean? Prior to me reading these emails I thought marriage was the ultimate goal with Mr. M. What more could I ask for in a life partner. Understanding, loving, caring, full of integrity, honest, and intelligent. Adores the music that I hold so close to my heart, weeps at beautiful inspired musical strains, beams proudly at my achievments, makes me want to be the best human being I can be. Most importantly, we never get tired of talking to each other. About anything. Philosophy, religion, music, life, relationships. I read somewhere that the person you pick to marry should be one that has lovely conversational and communications skills. Because when all the sex and lust falls by the wayside that's what will hold you through in yoru golden years.

I read those emails about him saying, "soon", and kinda freaked a little bit. What if it DID ask me to marry him. Have I really weighed the implications of that in my brain? Have I really thought it out how my life would be affected by that one decision? I don't believe in the theory of promising to your friends, family, God, and husband that you will adore and love them forever and then saying, "oops, I want a divorce."

>sidenote... NO HATEMAIL PLEASE! I am a child of divorce, so I'm allowed to say that.

Last night, he called me before I went to bed (he's still in Vegas shooting the Tv show). I was lonely and scared in this big house without him. Also, without my friend Pinot to blur my fear of every creak and bump in the night. He said that he was outside of Bellagio waiting for the fountains to start. He'd already seen one and it was his least favorite song they played "proud to be an American"

>NO HATE MAIL PLEASE! It's a musical thing not a textual thing

I told him I hoped the next one was one of the ones he so enjoyed. I heard the music come up and asked him if he wanted to hang up so he could listen. He said, "NO, I called you so we could watch the fountains together!" I said I couldn't hear very well, what is it? He said, "it's Copeland, can you hear it?" I stopped talking and so did he. We listened to the music together, I could hear his breathing, inhaling and exhaling in slow contented breaths.

At this moment I realized. This man is my future. I just know. I want to wake up next to him for the rest of my life. I want to hear his voice and share a home. I want to parent children together. I want to love this man forever.

Kitchen Remodel

Hi... oh yea, I'm back from vegas.

Great time, great boyfriend, lalalala

When I returned to my abode I was bummed as I was sad that my Mr. M had to stay another 6 days to finish shooting his TV Show.

My mood was quickly changed when I saw this:


my kitchen floor... finally is finished. YAY!

PS... yes that's me. I passed out from happiness

Vegas a Go Go

I'm off to Vegas tomorrow. Am going to visit Mr. M during his 16 day shoot of his TV show. I really can't wait to see him. I'm actually thinking about what I'm going to wear.

Which is weird since this man has awakened next to me everymorning for the last 2 years. I guess you still want to impress your man even after that.

I thougt I had beat the dry socket thing I experienced this last week. On Friday morning I went in to the oral surgeons. My dentist wasn't there so his assisant saw me. Pretty much a 19 year old dental hygenist straight out of her associates degree schooling I think.

She asked me if it still hurt. I said... it doesn't hurt so much, it's more tight feeling. So she took out the packing and said she thought I could go without and that it would heal normally from now on.

By 3 oclock I was like.. HOLY SHIT! Throbbing pain gnawing at my jaw bone. It was awful and literally brought me to tears. If something can bring me to tears when I'm alone, then it's some serious shit.

I called my dad and cried to him. Went to the grocery, bought some Orajel that seemed to help temporarily. Drank three glasses of wine, waiting three hours and took a vicoden. I slept at my dad's house as I was at my wits end with being alone and in pain.

This morning I called the emergency dentist and he met me at the office to pack my tooth. AAAAAAhhhhh sweet relief. I might have to have it packed again on Tuesday while I'm in Vegas, but I'll jump that hurdle when I get there.

Enough rambling already! I'm off.

I Feel Like Poo

Tooth still hurts. Or should I say... gaping hole in my mouth still hurts.

Went back to the oral surgeon this morning to have the original packing removed and another one put in. It felt so good to have it taken out... only for a few seconds though, since the other one got jammed in.

I didn't sleep more than 4 total hours last night. Pain was awful.

I miss my man. Badly. Not that he'd be able to do anything about how I'm feeling right now, but it's just nice to know somebody is there ya know?

My family has been great. Calling, checking in on me. My sister, whom I believe was instructed to do so by my father, invited me over last night and made dinner. Even though I ate almost nothing it was a sweet gesture.

Today I didn't make it past noon at work. The pain was so naggingly awful I couldn't take it anymore and just said, "I'm outta here." They seemed to understand.

Once I got home I took a half a vicoden and passed out till 6 oclock. I immediately felt nauseous, hot, and sweating. How can a stupid little tooth have this much affect on my body. It's absolutely infuriatingly frustrating.

I want to call Mr. M and tell him how crappy I'm feeling but I won't. I don't want him to feel guilty about not being here. I want him to give his full attention to his project and do it without a cloud of guilt hanging over his head. I just wish I could feel better.

On a happier note. The tile for the kitchen arrives tomorrow!

I'm Packin

The wisdom teeth removal went as smoothly as to be expected when dealing with a retarded amount of pain tolerance.

I screamed, I cried... I think Mr. M almost cried, the look on his face after it was over was of a broken hearted man. Very sweet of him to feel so empathetic in my pain. He was a trooper and I love him more for it everyday.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) they had to put me under. I think the dentist didn't want to try and wrestle me every step of the way. After two novicaine injections he claimed the tooth was now "impacted" or at least enough to say he had to put me under. I was fine with that. I woke up in a cushy little bed with my Mr. M rubbing my back.

Each night has been very painful for the bottom tooth. For some reason around 1AM I would get searing pain in my jaw all the way up to my ear. I thought nothing of it since during the day I had little to no pain (granted I'm chalked full of painkillers, but who's counting).

Last night I slept for maybe 1 solid hour total. So this morning I emailed my boss telling her I'd be in at noon if I could get this pain under control. Since I also had to take Mr. M to the airport this morning at 5AM!!! I was in much need of some sleep. Around 10ish my oral surgeon's office called to check in on me and see how the healing was coming along.

I explained to the 12 year old who had to be on the other end of the phone that I had pain at night but not during the day so everything was fine. She said, "oh, no... you have dry sockets." I was like...errrrr NO.. did you hear me!!?? I said it only hurts at night. To which she quipped, "yup, dry sockets, hold on a minute and I'll tranfer you so you can make an appointment."

I was bewildered. I thought dry sockets were these insanely painful never ending worse than giving birth kind of things. The next lady picked up the phone and said, "how's 1 oclock for you". I tried to explain that I most likely didn't have dry sockets but sure I could come in at 1 if they really wanted me to.

I called my boss explained the situation, called Mr. M who was now in Vegas and he said the same thing, "you dont' have dry sockets... I thought those were supposed to be blindingly painful."

I get to the dentist's office early hoping they can get me in and out so I can get some work done today and not have to use all my sick leave. The dentist comes in ... looks briefly at my mouth, presses on my jaw bone, which hurt like hell and said, "yup... dry sockets."

He then begain to pick something out of the gaping whole in my jaw bone and stuff it full of gauze. The gauze was soaked in the nastiest tasting stuff ever. It's like a cross between ambesol and the yucky stuff my mom used to put on my thumb so I wouldn't suck it as a kid. It was uncomfortable and painful... but not excrutiating or anything.

So I asked him about the pain thing... why didn't it hurt. The dentist said that because I was so evenly medicated it hurt but didn't REALLY hurt. That because I was not allowing myself to have a lapse in pain meds that I never really felt the true pain. If the pain I felt was ALREADY masked by pain pills I can't even imagine the torture it would have been to be without my beloved vicoden.

So... I've been instructed to take a WHOLE vicoden before bed. Come back on Wednesday to re-pack the already packed hole in my jaw and continue behaving as normal.

This sucks a big fatty.