The Internet Requires That Everyone Mention Michael Jackson at Some Point. Michael Jackson! There.

Hi.  I am writing to you from the fiery depths of hell.  No, I am not in a math class…just Chico in summertime.  I am trying to take solace in the fact that thus far there have been no fires (KNOCK ON WOOD!) so at least walking outside doesn’t mean a respiratory infection.  But man.  This 105F business is a bit much.  I am a delicate flower who once fainted at the San Francisco Zoo.  Where it doesn’t get above 68F.  You can imagine how well I’m doing right now.  Basically, I have reached a point where personal comfort trumps the desire to dress like an adult professional.  And I don’t give a shit. 

 

But on a happier, brighter note: I am surrounded by really fun student assistants who crack me up and – more importantly – bring me carne asada tacos from the taco truck up the road.  Let me repeat: a nice young man stops by while I am drowning in work, takes my order and my cash, and comes back with the food.  As much as I’d like to escape the office, standing in the sun is not appealing at all at the moment, and this young lad is doing it for me.  The young ladies sharing my office are equally sweet and we have formed quite the little team, taking turns grabbing drinks for each other and swapping stories about our weekends and boyfriends.  It kind of reminds me of living in the dorms.  Only I’m really old now.

 

And in even happier, brighter, shinier news: the heat did not deter us from a date night this weekend.  We did change the reservation from the patio to the dining room and pretty much hauled ass from one air conditioned spot to another, but it was still lovely.

 

One could argue that water is more effective in fighting off dehydration, but mojitos and manhattans work too.

 

And when I say “shiny” I am referring to my sweaty face.

Seriously, Where the Hell AM I?

An actual, for-reals email that showed up in my work inbox:

 

If anyone would like a starter batch of batter for Amish Friendship bread, please let me know!   I have a couple of batches here with me today and will be happy to share.

 

Now, Lord knows I love me some carbs so when I saw “bread” I was like, “Fuck yeah!  Sign me UP!”  But something about bread with the word “Amish” in it makes me think this stuff will be difficult to make (like I’ll need to churn the butter instead of softening it in the microwave or else it won’t work).  Plus, I’ll probably lose concentration because I’ll start thinking about the fact that it’s Amish bread, which will lead me to thinking about Harrison Ford, and then I’ll get mad that he’s engaged to Ally McBeal and the bread will turn into Amish Pissed-Off bread and, well, I don’t need to tell you that it won’t be as delicious. 

 

But getting down to another, more pressing question: is pimping bread batter at work something unique to where I live, or are you all getting similar emails at work?

Grace in Small Things: “Summertime” Always Makes Me Think of That DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince Song

1. Sierra Nevada Summerfest beer is in the stores (Holla!) harkening the official, glorious beginning of the season.
2. Warm weather somehow makes a dinner of the aforementioned beer, cheese and crackers perfectly acceptable, especially when enjoyed on the patio.
3. The discovery of a petite-friendly maxi dress at Target pleased me more than I should probably admit in public but damn it if it isn’t the comfiest thing in my closet.
4. The annual Summer Exodus of the Students means no lines, no waiting, no circling for parking.  Ah, lovely.
5. Upcoming 4th of July weekend means 4 days off.  Can someone pass me another Summerfest? 

365

Did you know today is the first anniversary of Is This Thing On?  Yeah, my baby is growing up.  I know what you’re thinking:  How did we all survive prior to its existence?  I mean, where else were you getting advice on lip gloss and a running commentary on the genius of Tina Fey?  You’re welcome.

 

This also marks one year that I’ve been back in California, which is pretty fucking rad, too. Some advice from me to you: if you are sitting in an airport terminal unemployed, broken-hearted and freakishly skinny and sleep-deprived, starting a blog is an excellent way to pass the time until your flight boards.  Again, you’re welcome.

 

The last year has had some down moments and dark times for sure, but I would say more days than not I look around and think, “Holy shit, I know some cool people!” and I am amazed at how putting my trust out there has been rewarded with new friends and incredible opportunities.  And each day makes it clearer that this is where I am supposed to be.  Where I want to be. 

 

Thank you for the great comments, encouragement and blog fodder, dear friends and family.  You rule.

Weekend Update

1. I finally saw The Hangover and would encourage anyone who shares my penchant for fratboy humor to do the same.  If you liked Old School you will probably piss yourself laughing over this one.  Stay through the credits.  Also, Bradley Cooper is now on My List.
2. Date Night was pretty fabulous (see above movie review) save for the part where we were seated in the children’s/senior citizen section of the restaurant.  We went for a whole bottle of wine instead of just a glass and I think that was the best decision ever.
3. One would think that over time my shyness and social awkwardness would fade, or I would at least figure out a way to deal.  I attended a wedding shower where I only knew the bride on Saturday and spent the drive pep-talking myself and taking deep breaths.  It was fine, everyone was nice and I managed not to spill or do/say anything too retarded.  I think. 
4. My lip gloss addiction is reaching new levels of Crazy: I picked up yet another Terra Lip Gloss today.  Lili wrote me that my beloved Clinique Black Honey is also available in a new moisturing gloss.  My Interweb research led me to discover it is only available at Sephora.  I want to go to there.
5. Anyone who says mozarella sticks and a Stella don’t qualify as a good dinner is wrong.  Dead wrong.

My Two Dads

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy and Papa!  Your kids love you.  I am so proud to be your daughter and feel so lucky, and can only hope I make you two feel just as proud and fortunate.

 

Lucky kids and awesome daddies.

 

Thank you for the baseball games, pranks, driving lessons, backrubs, shared Red Vines, laughter, hand-holding, and fun.  You guys are keepers.

Maybe You Can’t Buy Happiness But Sometimes New Stuff Keeps Me from Whining

Hi.  How are you?  Me?  Oh, fabulous!  It’s date night tonight (SUSHI, Y’ALL!) and my gentleman companion has mentioned an outing to the movies tomorrow where we will enjoy the comedic stylings of either Jack Black/Michael Cera, Will Ferrell, or Bradley Cooper/Ed Helms/Zach GalifIthinkheishilarious.  I am one spoiled girl.

 

Also, I have some annoying headcold.  Way to misjudge that “allergy attack” CKD!  I am an insufferable jackass when sick and yet…I am pretty darn chipper.  The reason?  A new lip gloss.  OK, make that chipper and shallow.

 

I need a new lip gloss like I need a hole in the head.  Or another purse.  Or pair of flip flops, even though I have been coveting silver Havaianas for some time now…Wait?  Where was I?  Yes, FOCUS.  LIP GLOSS.  I stopped by my mothership, Target, last night to pick up some cards and a little comfort treat because I was feeling all sniffly (Yet still in denial that I was sick.  It’s allergies!  I’m fine!) and wandered over to the cosmetic area because it is adjacent to the stationery and I cannot deny it’s seductive call.   Let me just give Target some props for stepping up its toiletry and cosmetic offerings.  Sure, you have your drugstore basics, but now they carry select Bumble+bumble  (and we all know I will put out for that shit), Origins, Kiehl’s products, and “green” stuff like Alba and Avalon. 

 

I had heard good things about Alba Terra Lip Gloss and checked out the limited options.  There were only three colors offered, which was mildly irritating, yet kind of nice.  I didn’t need to narrow down choices, so the decision was swift and confident: Bloom, a natural-looking pink, was coming home with me.  People, this may have been one of my more inspired decisions in recent days – nay – weeks.  And we all know I am all over sound, logical choices all the time.

 

First of all, the color is fabulous.  Very natural, not too shiny and no glitter or sparkles.  The consistency is fantastic and decidedly non-sticky.  My lips are not dried out, which is a HUGE plus in my book.  But perhaps the best part?  The scent: VANILLA.  I am not a huge fan of scented cosmetics, especially when it’s overly sweet or artificial.  But this?  This is subtle and lovely and makes me smile.  Let me reiterate: I am achy and tired and but I look cute and feel sassy and this cold can suck it.

 

Oh, and sorry if I get you sick what with all this running around town, but nothing will keep me from sushi and funny movies.  And I owe it to the world to show off my new lip gloss.

 

UPDATED:  I suppose the really, truly BEST part of this lip gloss is that it’s supposedly a relatively “green” product but I haven’t done the research and therefore don’t feel comfortable endorsing it as such right now.  If anyone out there has anything to add, have at it.

Because I Am All About the Self-Improvement

Sure, I’m more than six months late on the New Year’s Resolutions, but is it ever too late to try to better your life?  To be a kinder, gentler, less rage-filled person?  OK, maybe I’m actually 31 years too late for all of that, but lately I’ve been thinking I need to work on a few things.

 

1. Dial down the motherfucking swearing all the goddamn time.
2. Adopt a more patient, loving, zen-like attitude toward others, especially those whose opinions and approach to life differ from mine.
3. In the event that #2 cannot be achieved, at least work on my poker face, so as not to convey – in non-verbal ways – that I think you are a total fucking moron.  (Basically practice the patented EJ method of “Scream on the Inside” when in a trying situation.)
4. Drink more water.
5. Take my ever-widening ass for a run (or walk or limping shuffle – something, for Christ’s sake) every now and then.  And maybe throw in some yoga and push-ups before I develop jiggly Mom Arms and have to kill myself.

 

Honestly, #4 has the best chance of actually happening, simply because it’s getting warmer and I tend to get thirsty.  How about you, Interweb?  Any things that you’re working on in the name of not being such an insufferable asshole a happier, more peaceful existence?  Any tips on how I can battle my hard wiring and be a nice person?  Because, DUDE, I can use all the suggestions you’ve got.

Where the Hell Have I Been?

• Jumping on Evan’s sweet-ass trampoline

 

• Drinking Judy’s world famous margaritas

 

• Remembering and celebrating a beloved bonus parent and supporting my friend

 

• Diagnosing this weird sore throat that might be allergies, or might be some sort of weird fungus contracted at Evan’s preschool

 

• Feeling lucky and blessed and reflecting on the weird path I’ve been on in the last year or so

 

Sorry posting has been so sporadic lately, but like Habesha Child, it’s been a struggle to find the time and the focus to sit down and put pen to paper (or, rather, fingers to keyboard) lately.  Lots of good things and lots of changes, not all of them really appropriate or interesting to discuss here.  Also, I think I might have adult onset ADHD, as well as an unhealthy addiction to Dunkin Donuts coffee.  I find myself thinking about it a lot.  Thank God I can brew it at home because flights to the East Coast would be inconvenient, yo.

Yes, Another Post in Which I Reference SOMEONE ELSE’S Ideas. Back Off.

My love for Nothing but Bonfires is nothing new, but her recent post* reminded me of a conversation I was having with a friend about how sometimes I feel like I don’t “get” the stuff society/Madison Avenue/other women think I should get excited over simply because I am a woman.  Sure, I love lip gloss and dresses, but a lot of things marketed and geared towards me (and by that, I mean generic women everywhere because we’re really all the same!) just make me gag.

 

My List of Stuff That I Just Don’t Get it Up For Even Though Other People Seem to Love the Hell Out of It:

• Wedding Showers – Love, Love, LOVE weddings, parties, my friends and gifts.  But something about a room full of women and unwrapping mixing bowls makes me want to open a vein.  Maybe with one of the honoree’s new steak knives!  Why does everyone turn shrill and lobotomized?  Scripted fun and forced excitement over a melon baller (heh-dirty) defeats the purpose of celebrating the individual. 
• Eh, Fuck It: The Whole Wedding Industry – And no, this is not just me channeling Miss Havisham over here.  Again, I love the gathering, love, celebrating…but all the freaking out that accompanies it because theKnot.com says IT’S YOUR DAY!  YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING YOU WANT!  EVEN IF YOU TURN INTO A WRETCHED SHREW!  Your marriage is DOOMED if your cocktail napkins don’t match the flowers!  I could do without that shit.
• Most Romantic Comedies – The characters of most of these films are fairly interchangeable, and I never find myself really rooting for The Couple because rarely is there any banter or wit.  Just a bunch of tired stereotypes and characters.  Why, Hollywood?  We’re ready for something intelligent.  Or at least actually funny.
• Baby Showers – See above notes on Wedding Showers, swap out a blankie for a wooden spoon and take out the booze.  Yeah.  You know what I’m talking about.
• Great Big Diamonds & Blinged Out Jewerly – Sure, it’s pretty and sparkly, but I don’t tend to pant over jewelry store windows.  Fun costume jewelry or meaningful stuff passed through the family?  Sign me up.  But the generic, over-the-top for the sake of making others jealous stuff just doesn’t do it for me.  Sorry, DeBeer’s.

 

Holy shit, I just realized I totally crapped on weddings and babies and now all my friends hate me.  Rest assured, I am beyond thrilled to shop for you and celebrate exciting times.  Really.  I’m just not good at the girly stuff.  Or at least the stuff I’ve been told I’m supposed to really, really love seeing as how I’m in possession of a uterus and all.   

 

 

*While I don’t agree with ALL of Holly’s list, I gotta say I don’t get people who freak out over Vegas, especially if they don’t gamble.  Can’t you get drunk closer to home?  But how I loves me some Sushi, Star Warsand Cetaphil.  Oh yes.  Yes I do.