Archive | December, 2010

holiday excuses and joys

21 Dec

Oh man, oh man, I give up.  I’ve been traveling, and then I got the flu, and then I was eating Christmas cookies and watching bad movies, and well…now I’m going to be traveling again.

In case you’ve been wondering, Tron was fun to look at, but I’m starting to wonder why Hollywood thinks we can’t simultaneously handle pictures and plot AT THE SAME TIME. I know, I know, revolutionary concept.  I’ve got to stop thinking so outside the box.  On the other hand, I strongly recommend Body Heat, Night Shift, and gingersnaps.

Also fires.  In the fireplace.  Try to get a dog and get the dog to nap next to you.

My point is, Dear Mr. Postman will be back to regularly scheduled programming after December 26th.  I hope you all have a lovely winter solstice / Christmas / Chinese-food-dinner-and-movie-watching night.  I hope you all have warm socks and cute hats and hand-knitted gloves.  I hope you all have hugs.

Holidays cheers,



Dear Sweet Gooey Gumdrops

14 Dec

Dear Sweet Gooey Gumdrops,

Because I have a lasting stake in proving that I’m not a hater (ok, I’m kind of a hater), I thought I’d share something lovely with you all today.

First of all, if any of you are wondering whether it’s possible to write a 25 page paper in three days while hanging out with friends and playing board games (BANANAGRAMS!) and drinking wine every night, the answer is yes.  It might even have a coherent argument if you’re lucky / the most awesome paper-writer everrrrr.

Then you’ll spend Monday night dreaming about things you should have put in your paper (whether or not they had to do with the actual topic).  Then, in some sort of wonderful brain melt/rebellion, you’ll dream about puppies.  About walking into a barn (?) and up a ladder and opening a trap door and rescuing five jolly, round, cuddly, romping puppies from the barn loft and bringing them down to the outside world of grass where you can hug them.  They’ll be all different colors–red, and black and white, and brown, and all white, and all black (look, puppies are realistic in my dreams, ok?) and they’ll all be warm and fat.

Puppies should be fat.

So as I was thinking about puppies, my sister sent me this link to The Daily Puppy, because we too have a goldendoodle named Roxie.  Except we spell it with an “-ie” and also ours is cuter (duh).

She has curlier hair and longer legs.  When her hair grows out, she looks like a polar bear, and when it’s short, she looks like a lamb.  True story: I nannied for a two-year-old for a while, and when he first saw Roxie, he blurted out, “SHEEP!”

Out of the mouths of babes— She looked more like the sheep in his picture books than the dog that slept in his kitchen.

Let’s look at a picture:

Roxanne, you don't have to put on the red light.

Next to her is her best friend Benny.  Benny kind of bumped his sister Phoebe out of Roxie’s best friend spot.  It was brutal.

Let’s look at more pictures:


So now I’m going to steal some of the comments from the other Roxy’s Daily Puppy post and pretend they’re for my Roxie, because they’re some of the nicest comments I’ve ever read on the Internet:

Roxy, you are such a darling girl, you are so cute and so very smart. What a nice pal you are too, with your doggie friends and family. Many many happy tugs of war for you and may you win over half of them. You are so cute and shaggy.

Beautiful, just really beautiful. And such a smart baby girl too. Kisses and hugs Roxy! I sure wish I could have a turn to play with you too! And I probably would not get a chance, cause I have three that would just love to play with you as well.

Aaaaand my personal favorite:

Roxy you look like a sweet little snuggle bunny.

Normally such things would make me throw up in my mouth, but it’s the holidays.  Also my critical thinking skills are broken.  Also I dreamt about puppies last night and was grumpy when I had to wake up.  Because really.


Dear Person Who Wrote “Veggie House” on a Poster

10 Dec

Dear Person Who Wrote “Veggie House” on a Poster,

Yeah, you, the one advertising for an “awesome roommate to live in super veggie house.”

Dude, is your house made of vegetables or what.

Because if not, that’s false advertising and I can sue you with all the meat-filled rage in my heart.

That’s right.  Just because I, too, sometimes shop at Whole Foods doesn’t mean I’m not a hater (obvs, actually.  Wouldn’t you assume people at Whole Foods are actually more hater-y?), and right now I’m hating you.  A lot.  With the energy I get from eating meat and fish, just the way God and Michael Pollan intended.


Hey yo, guys, friends, lovers, sighs

9 Dec

Hey yo, guys, friends, lovers, sighs:

Look, it’s the end of the semester, and I don’t want to brag, but— in the past 16 weeks, I have:

  • AND taught 32 eighteen-year-olds how to put numbers in parentheses before periods (213).  Actually, I’m still not sure if they know how to do this, but fingers crossed!  …They can always YouTube it.

My point is that I need to go lie on the floor in this room for a while:

while somebody brings me hot tea and crumpets.

….Why do I always turn British at the end of the semester?



Dear New Bath Products

8 Dec

Dear New Bath Products,

It’s amazing what buying new bath products does for my outlook on life.  Even during finals week.  Even though I actually hate most scented products and can’t use them for more than a day before my nose and head and allergies and personal sense of not-wanting-to-smell-like-a-Barbie throw fits and stage mutinies and “accidentally” push those new products into the trash in a jealous rage.

Still, I buy new bath/shower something (made from baby panda tummy-warmth and shooting stars without harming any animals in the last small town in America without a Wal-Mart!) and I get into my shower…

and when I step out, and look in the wall-to-wall tiled mirror that some narcissistic crackhead who lived here before me installed in my bathroom, I’m disappointed.

Not that it’s disappointing to look like me….I mean…ok, whatever, I’m ok, I’ve got pretty good self-esteem, also the mirror is usually foggy so I don’t even really look, and usually I’m late to class, so I kind of skip all the rest of the steps of getting ready except for putting on clothes.

But I’m disappointed because I haven’t turned into Gisele. Because obviously that’s the reasonable outcome to expect from spending $6.99 on glorified soap.

I know I’m not alone in this.  I’m actually fairly low on the scale of beauty-product-obsession.  I’m almost not on the scale at all.  I bought a new brand of shampoo and conditioner for the first time in three years yesterday.  (I’m secretly hoping that it’ll make me into a redhead.  No, not through dying or chemicals …just…you know, accidentally/naturally.)

I have a friend who takes an hour to smell all the conditioners in the grocery store, drifting back and forth between the “natural” aisle and the commercial brands, sniffing and reading ingredients and sniffing.  Then she buys the first one she picked up.   And another friend is inexorably drawn into every drugstore on the street.  “Ooooh!  A Rite-Aid!” she says.

Anyway, I’m sure you’re all disappointed I’m not Gisele too.  On the other hand, I smell like “cotton blossom and white musk” today.  And tomorrow I’ll have Lindsay Lohan’s hair circa Mean Girls, so.  (I hope it doesn’t come with an addiction to something.  Lots of things.  Whatever.)


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