Sunday, July 30, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Then I sold it last night and was forced to sleep on one of these twin size air mattress:
It was not a good night's rest. Jelly Belly and I both cannot fit on this tiny air mattress. First, Jelly Belly was freaked out everytime I shifted my body because it would cause her to bounce around. Then, she realized the bed was smaller so she started walking all over me throughout the night. And, she started meowing right next to my head in hopes that I would just roll off the air bed and sleep on the floor. We came to a compromise of her getting the lower half of the air bed while I curled up in a ball in the upper half of the air bed.
I'm not going back to a twin size bed in Kansas City. Nope, can't do it.
Monday, July 24, 2006
I got flowers at work today.
At first, I didn't know who it was from, because the card had no name on it. And then I thought maybe the Boy sent it to me, but then he hates sending regular cut flowers because they die so quickly--he'd rather send potted flowers because then if they die, it's my fault ("You killed our love plant"). And it's totally not like the Boy to send me flowers on a random day for no special occasion.
I called the Boy anyway, and asked if he did indeed send me flowers. Yes, he did. He forgot that he didn't put a name on there. I was overwhelmed by his gesture. When I think I've figured him out, he ceases to surprise me.
And then he bought me a slice of chocolate cake. Real chocolate cake made with real sugar and all that fatty goodness.
Flowers and cake....should I be worried here?
Sunday, July 23, 2006
And then I see him in The Breakup. And yep, he's still does the slow talk and stupid hand gestures. And plus he gained A LOT of weight in this movie. It was a good thing he only had a small role in this movie, or else he would have totally ruined the entire movie for me.
Thursday's Giants vs. Padres game was perfect--warm weather, no cold wind, clear skies, great fans and of course the Giants won. It was also one of the greatest games I've ever seen. Not only did the Giants almost went nine innings without giving any homeruns to the Padres, the Giants made three homers in a row--Bonds hit HR #722 and while I was asking the Boy if it was possible for a player to ever "steal home" from third base, it happened as he was trying to explain it to me! I don't remember which Giants player it was, but he ran from third base to home plate just as the player at bat bunted the ball and started running for first base. It was AWESOME! Then I got to see the Lou the Seal do his happy dance.
The Boy, on the other hand, had a miserable time because he was rooting for the Padres. Yeah, he was the lone person booing the Giants and Bonds while everyone around him rooted and cheered for the Giants.
Okay, so obviously the reason it's sold at Michaels is not for drinking purposes. But hey, can you imagine how much alcohol these glasses can hold? Good lord.
Don't you just love my doodle face? =)
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
For some odd reason, I was not able to connect to the internet when I got home from work today. I tried, on my own, how to fix the connection, but no matter what buttons I push or wireless connections or servers or whatever else you do to get connected, none of the things I tried worked. And I started getting really irritated that my cable tv was working just fine but I couldn't get online.
So after twenty minutes on the phone with Comcast, they were able to get my internet working again. And as soon as I was able to load up internet explorerer, I shouted "THANK YOU COMCAST MAN!!"
I need to disconnect myself from all this technology. Maybe reconnect with nature by going hiking or something. One can still use cell phones in the woods, right?
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
You are so gorgeous to look at. I thank the day the receptionist finally persuaded me to come see you because he thought you were so pretty. I didn't really believe him until I set my eyes on you myself. I was probably blinded by your beauty when you convinced me that I should come in for deep cleaning instead of getting a regular cleaning. Whatever. Your pretty blue eyes will make me do anything for you.
I was disappointed when you were not there to personally do the first half of my deep cleaning. You said you would do it because you were a perfectionist and you wanted me to have perfect clean teeth. So why didn't you tell me you were on vacation? I would have gladly rescheduled. The other hygienist did a good job, but she wasn't so pretty to look at.
Today, I came in to get the second half of my deep cleaning and was so excited that you were the one to work on my teeth. I was so happy to see your pretty blue eyes again. Even behind a mask you are so dreamy. If it wasn't for the fact that I already have a boyfriend, I think I would have seriously tried to ask you out. You are just that pretty to look at.
However, the moment you stuck that giant needle in my mouth and gave me five shots of novocaine to numb my mouth for your tortuous cleaning methods, I hated you. I hate you for making me hold onto the arms of that dentist chair so hard that my knuckles were probably turning white. I hate you for making me listen to that awful high pitched squealing noise everything you scraped my teeth. I really hated you for using so much force it felt like you were trying to PULL out my teeth rather than cleaning it. I hate you for making me walk around for the rest of the day thinking that half my face is fat and I'm probably drooling but just can't feel it (although, it's really an odd sensation to drink cold water and only feel the coldness on half your tongue.).
You're an evil, evil man and I just plain hate you. If you weren't so pretty to look at, I would have an easier time getting over you. Still, I look forward to seeing you in six months for the next check-up.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Okay, on to the movie. I should have been at the gym myself tonight. But a Freudian slip of the mind left me a gym bag with a tanktop, socks and no gym shorts whatsoever. So since I still had the rest of the night ahead of me, Q and I decided to go watch The Devil Wears Prada. The movie was *okay* and it held it's own, but the story was soo totally not like the book. I mean, the writers basically wrote a whole new storyline. They changed the characters around, made Andrea look like a total ditz when she's really not, and she so totally became a slut for about a minute (well it was really 6 hours in movie time).
Since we went directly to the movie after work, Q suggested Coldstone Creamery for dinner. Again, there was a bunch of people there. Shouldn't they be at home with their kids or something? It IS a weeknight. Anyhoo, there was about five people in line before us, and we waited patiently for our turn. Q was up first, so she gave her order and the guy behind the counter told us to go to the other side and he'll take care of both our orders.
Q: I want the to go "Mine" size of cake batter ice-cream, peanut butter and fudge.
Ice Cream Dude (ICD): "Mine" size? Are you going to be able to eat all of that? [takes two scoops of cake batter ice-cream and puts it on the slab and starts adding peanut butter and fudge]
Me: She's having a bad day. And you're making feel lots better.
ICD: Well, I'm glad I can make her happy.
Q: Oh, the "Mine" size allows for three toppings. Hmm, what to get....
ICD: Oh, get whatever you want, I'll hook you up.
Me: He'll hook you up, Q. Get whatever.
Q: Okay, can you put yellow cake in it too?
ICD: Anything for you. [gets MORE cake batter ice-cream and starts mixing in cake.] Oops, looks like I put too much ice-cream here. It's okay, if there's extra, I'll give you another container.
Q: Aww, thanks.
ICD: Just don't tell my manager.
Q: I promise.
ICD adds peanut butter to the mix and asks Q: Do you want to lick the peanut butter spoon?
Meanwhile, I'm trying to hold in my laughter because he is so totally flirting with us, well mostly her, but she doesn't catch on yet.
ICD: Here's your "Mine" pint and here's the extra ice-cream in another bowl. [looks at me] Now, what can I get for you?
Me: I want the same size as hers, but make it a Peanut Butter Perfection Madness.
ICD: Coming right up. [gets a ton of ice-cream, adds Reese's peanut butter cups and peanut butter] Do you want to lick the peanut butter spoon too?
ICD: So are you two like best friends or roommates or something?
Q: Yes, we are. Both.
ICD: Yeah? Roommates? What school do you go to?
Q: Umm [looks at me]
Me: We're...not...in..school anymore....
Q: Well, I am....you're soon going to be one...
Me: Well, we met in undergrad.
Q: Yeah, at Wellesley.
ICD: Where's that?
ICD: Are you both originally from here?
so right now, ICD is totally flirting with us both. I take a look at Q and quietly whisper "Are you showing your boobs or something? He's giving us a ton of ice-cream!" Q was not showing her boobs. We were both totally covered from head to toe, because you know, this is San Francisco summer.
Me: Um, I'm from Kansas and Boston. She's from South Carolina.
ICD: Oh okay. Hey, Nate here wants to be reassured that he's cute. Can you two just tell him that?
Q: All you, Q-Pig.
Nate [ICD's co-worker]: He's only saying that because he wanted to you know, indirectly, that he thought the both of you were cute.
Me: ha haha
Q: hee hee
ICD: Well, here's another pint of ice-cream and another extra bowl. You can eat this right here.
I start eating the cup of Peanut Butter Perfection and start moaning on the spot about how good the ice-cream was.
Me: Ohmygosh, this is delicious.
Q: Isn't it?
Me: You gotta some. Here.
And as I fed Q a spoonful of Peanut Butter Perfection, ICD guy totally blew his top. I think the other guys are staring at us now. Note to self: do not moan while eating ice-cream in public.
Q: Here's a tip. Thanks for hooking us up!
And we also got serended by ICD and the rest of the gang for giving them a tip. I'm pretty sure that was company policy though.
Q and I don't understand how we get hit on by totally random people. ICD guy was probably in high school, although he'll pass as an undergrad, but Q and I totally made his night by coming into the Coldstone Cremery he was working at. We will both probably be the topic of tomorrow's conversation at the lunch table.
Who knew a Blonde and an Asian makes such a hot combination. Is this some sort of fantasy for you guys? We need to take advantage of this combo.
Must now go confess to the Boy of the evening's festivities...
Friday, July 07, 2006
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
After spending 15 minutes looking through every single item in their menu, the Boy and I both decided to have the bowl of soup and half a sandwich lunch special (all for $7.95 per person). He ordered the barbeque chicken sandwich with fries and I ordered the club sandwich with fries. We both chose clam chowder for our soup.
Another waiter brings out our half of the meal, the "bowl" of clam chowder. It was a HUGE bowl. I guessed that the amount of soup they gave each of us was about the same amount that would come in a Progressive can of clam chowder. I sat there staring at it, wondering how I would fit half a sandwich after eating the bowl of clam chowder. It was damn good chowder though, I won't argue with that.
As we were trying to see the bottom of our bowls of clam chowder, another server bought out our sandwiches. I notice that there is half a potato on my plate and so I quickly told the server that I had ordered fries with the sandwich. She said she would go get me a plate of fries. But then something looked odd. The Boy's sandwich didn't look like a chicken sandwich at all. But before I could ask the Boy if that was what he ordered, our original waiter comes by, swoops up both plates of sandwiches and whispers "she delivered it to the wrong table" and continues to give the food to the people behind us. Good thing we didn't lick the sandwiches yet.
And while we're still trying to finish our bowls of clam chowder, the server who brought us the wrong plates of sandwiches came back with my plate of fries. She looked at the empty table and looked confused about where the plates of sandwiches were. I gently told her that those sandwiches belonged to someone else and she started counting tables and realized she did deliver the food to the wrong table. She let me keep the extra plate of fries though.
After about 15 minutes, we both gave up on trying to finish the clam chowder. We both could have shared just one bowl of chowder. And at this point, we were both too full for anything else. But our sandwiches came out, with more fries, and we eat took a couple bites of the sandwich and fries and so people didn't think we were anorexic or thought we didn't like the food. The fries were so good that I kept stuffing myself while moaning that I was too full to eat another bite. The Boy had to tell me to "put the fry down and step away from the table."
So in the end, we had a bowl of clam chowder, a quarter of a chicken sandwich and a quarter of a club sandwich plus a ton of fries to take home for snacking. Unfortunately, it's still sitting in the fridge and by the time we get up to Sacramento this weekend, it'll probably be bad. Oh well, guess we'll have to go back to BJ's so I can eat the chocolate chunk pizookie again. Yum.