The guy on the radio says to me, “It’s 26 degrees out, gonna be a warm holiday.”
So I get in my car, it tells me it’s 23. It’s not warm. I mean sure, compared to the temp in mid January it’s warm. Compared to deep space, it’s balmy.
Sitting there in my car, waiting for the seat warmers to kick in and having the window cracked for my morning cigarette. Freezing. I keep losing my gloves, so my hands are going numb on me. On top of it all, the shirt I’m wearing is open to my cleavage so I’ve got wind whipping down my shirt.
Most days you couldn’t convince me to live anywhere else, too many things here I like. On days like today, something as minor as the weather would be enough to sway me.
Anyone out there looking to adopt a moody 30 year old?


Why does inexperience always have to go hand in hand with close-mindedness?
Is it some sort of chicken/egg dilemma?

Happy Holidays

This was written Saturday night, but posted elsewhere. I am reposting it here for the 18 of you who actually read this.
So I have approximately 1/2 of the twin cities metropolitan area residents coming to my house tomorrow for a non-secular holidy food eating party. being busy busy with other things and also being a retard, I didn’t plan my menu until this morning.
Went shopping this afternoon, first for Christmas gifts then for food. Along the way I stopped to pick up the wine. I wanted a few specific wines, a spatlese, a sangiovese, a beaujolais villages and of course, prosecco. First liquor store doesn’t have prosecco, so I buy nothing.
Then I hit the grocery store and get most of what I need, understanding that the specialty stuff will have to be purchased at my local grocery and not at the gigantomart.
Stop at home to drop jen off so she can begin the prep work and I can run out to find the wine and get the last few items. She goes to preheat the oven and it doesn’t turn on. It’s been having trouble lately, but it was intermittent. Now there’s nothing. No oven. I have 1.5 million people expected tomorrow and no oven. I put my head down and had a good hard cry.
Then I took my oven apart, thinking that if I could threaten it with the awesome power of my furrowed brow, it might start working. No dice. At least the burners work. So, I triaged the menu, figured out what needed to be baked and called jen’s mom. She generously offered me free reign in her kitchen tomorrow. I set jen up to prep all the items that needed to be baked and set off to pick up wine and olives and raisins.
Liquor store #2 had prosecco with a screw cap. A SCREW CAP. I bought the other wine and some Bailey’s and tried not to cry. Then I headed to Liquor Store #3. I somehow missed my turn and ended up on the other side of the freeway. So I’ll take the long way. Then my dad called, that was good, he’s comforting. Except he just got back from a work trip in Japan and his sleep time is all mixed up so he’s hyper. I want to cry and he wants to tell me about the airplane he flew. We confirm the time that he is coming over and say goodbye. I head in to LS#3. They had some very nice wines, but no prosecco. So I went to the parking lot, fought back tears and headed to LS#4. I searched and searched. They had to have it, liquor stores are closing in 30 minutes and they won’t reopen until Monday.
I ask for the wine and lo! they have it. Pleasant Guy shows me where it is and I say, “If it wasn’t so weird I’d kiss you right here”. And I probably would have.
Head to the grocery store and get kumquats, canola oil, and more cheese. Unfortunately, the olive bar was closed down for the night, meaning I had to come back for olives in the morning. Then some cute guy comes out from behind the cheese counter to help me and when i recount my night of pain he very cutely puts his hand on my shoulder and tells me it will be okay. If things don’t work out between me and the cheese girl I’m hoping maybe this cheese boy might be interested.
Get home, unload, discover that now the stovetop won’t light without a match. Fine, fuck it, we’ll light with a match. My very very dear girl has prepped a bunch of stuff already, currently producing root vegetable skewers at an alarming rate. She’s good.
I make up a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese spirals, call someone, have him listen to me whine about my life. Then I proceed to make horseradish sauce and then eat mac and cheese in his ear. He’s sweet to listen.
Eventually, we’ve done what we could. The girl goes to bed and i spend another 3.5 hours on the phone when I should have been sleeping. Tomorrow, I have a million things to do and clean and a lot of my food needs to be cooked in a kitchen 13 miles away from me. Sigh.
But it will be okay.
Sunday morning we got up and found that the oven decided to work. I don’t question why, I just decree that the oven will not be turned off for the rest of the day.
We keep the oven on, work our asses off to make huge amounts of food and actually find ourselves serving things on time for once. Nice.
All in all the party was a success and pictures will be posted soon enough.

My angry rant about happiness

This topic has come up a lot in different contexts over the past few weeks. People asking me if I’m happy, people telling me they are unhappy. People wondering how to get happy.
First off, I’m undoubtedly happy. My life kicks ass. Good things happen, bad things happen. I’m able to ride them out. Sure, it sucks on the downhill, but you get over it.
If you want to.
You’re only as happy as you want to be. If you walk through this life angry and defensive, then it’s gonna feel like life is constantly slapping you around. If you want to be depressed then it’s gonna feel like karma has laid a big old Cleveland steamer on you. Shitty things happen to people all the time. Grow the fuck up and accept it. You miss so much by being angry and depressed. You miss out on the opportunities to have fun and make memories that will make you smile and laugh later.
Who wants to be old and only remember the times they told people to fuck off over every perceived slight? Who wants to say that they are pleased with the amount of hours they spent crying under their bed?
And, frankly, people who are pissy and can’t find the fun in even the silliest of things are a pain in the ass to be around.
So my ironic, angry, ill conceived advice today is…if your life sucks so bad that you can’t even manage to find the smallest amount of joy in it, either fucking make a change or end it.


From my good pal Ethan
cats are hilarious
i am positive they levitate and speak chinese fluently when we are not around
dogs are the most honest and wonderful companions we are allowed in this life. and fulfil a use for the plastic sack from the grocery store.