Too tight too loose
You know you're getting old when your underwear is older than the Internet. C and I venture forth to restock our underclothing department. Yesterday I sent C on a mission to scout out something for me at CostCo (the last place I vaguely remember my mom getting me a six-pack of florals). He came back disgusted, "Their lady's underwear is soo cheap quality."
My mom and sister graciously buy most of my clothes in the East coast, hence I only know how to buy clothes in one place in California- the young boy's section at Target. Everything fits great and is under ten bucks. Since we were out of laundary detergent anyway, we trudge over to once and for all clear our underwear situation. C makes out like a bandit with 9 pairs of boxers.
I dawdle and futz as it's hard to tell what is what in the world of women's underwear. Bikinis, briefs, froufrous, high cut? I can't tell what could turn out to be a wedgie machine. I don't need anything ass-alicious, just cotton and reliable. In such matters, I always get help from J. But today, I surmised that as an adult I should start making my own decisions.
Oof. Eventhough I selected "medium", my 10 pairs turned out to be bit of a disaster. 4 too big, rest too tight. Is one even allowed to return underwear? What to do as I've already cut up my old ones...
Saturday, September 27, 2003
Friday, September 26, 2003
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Cherry Falls, Bruce Dickinson Never Dies...
One thing I like about Iron Maiden, no sucky love songs. All adventure and epic poetry. Hum. Last week for the first time in years I went to an indie rock show at the Great American Music Hall. Back in the day, C's band Action Patrol let another band peg on their second tour. Anyhow Rainer Maria now have a video on MTV and some token amount of college radio fame and were in town for their North America tour along with another band Denali with a Richmond connection. So we were privy to free tickets and back stage passes.
Fanny (drummer nee Jonathan Fuller) got much flack from C as he is only seen in sleeveless shirts. I tell C that hipsters do not bother with sleeves as they must fit snugly inside their lifestyle jackets. Fanny regaled us with his last bout of true fame. He was an extra in a horror movie titled "Cherry Falls" after the town in which following unfortunate events occur- a serial killer terrorizes virgin teenagers. The murder rate has risen such that the principal and the mayor urge all the high school girls to lose their virginity. Fanny's shining moment came when a fight broke out in the lunch room.
Petunia Prowler
On Sunday, C and I went to Home Depot to procure some lumber. I told C to meet me over at the garden section when he was done. I took my sweet old time browsing the six packs and quart herbs when I saw some guy put a giant tray of petunias in his cart. I thought to myself what sort of dorky person buys that many petunias. Anyhow, I went back and forth for a while as I could not remember where my cart was. All of the sudden out of nowhere appeared C. He is cracking up saying I passed by him several times, even watched him put the flat of petunias into my very own cart but I didn't register. And then he felt sorry for me as I would never be able to find my cart again since it had a tray of those ugly petunias in them so he waved and said my name. Yes it's true. Even after 16 years I cannot quite recognize my husband in public places. Once I failed to pick C out at an airport lounge as he wore a new shirt unknown to me. But C is good humored and will play on end of pranks on me.
One thing I like about Iron Maiden, no sucky love songs. All adventure and epic poetry. Hum. Last week for the first time in years I went to an indie rock show at the Great American Music Hall. Back in the day, C's band Action Patrol let another band peg on their second tour. Anyhow Rainer Maria now have a video on MTV and some token amount of college radio fame and were in town for their North America tour along with another band Denali with a Richmond connection. So we were privy to free tickets and back stage passes.
Fanny (drummer nee Jonathan Fuller) got much flack from C as he is only seen in sleeveless shirts. I tell C that hipsters do not bother with sleeves as they must fit snugly inside their lifestyle jackets. Fanny regaled us with his last bout of true fame. He was an extra in a horror movie titled "Cherry Falls" after the town in which following unfortunate events occur- a serial killer terrorizes virgin teenagers. The murder rate has risen such that the principal and the mayor urge all the high school girls to lose their virginity. Fanny's shining moment came when a fight broke out in the lunch room.
Petunia Prowler
On Sunday, C and I went to Home Depot to procure some lumber. I told C to meet me over at the garden section when he was done. I took my sweet old time browsing the six packs and quart herbs when I saw some guy put a giant tray of petunias in his cart. I thought to myself what sort of dorky person buys that many petunias. Anyhow, I went back and forth for a while as I could not remember where my cart was. All of the sudden out of nowhere appeared C. He is cracking up saying I passed by him several times, even watched him put the flat of petunias into my very own cart but I didn't register. And then he felt sorry for me as I would never be able to find my cart again since it had a tray of those ugly petunias in them so he waved and said my name. Yes it's true. Even after 16 years I cannot quite recognize my husband in public places. Once I failed to pick C out at an airport lounge as he wore a new shirt unknown to me. But C is good humored and will play on end of pranks on me.
Saturday, September 13, 2003
Frontier wife redux
Since C sweetly fried up 2 strips of bacon for me this morning, I am compelled to reciprocate with a super duper breakfast for Sunday morning. But I won't make it on time unless I start now. Roasted roots (sweet potato, anise, blue potatoes, rosemary, no parsnips though as I forgot about them while explaining edibility of corn smut to the produce guy) are roasting away. I started some quickie lemon cucumber pickles to freshen up our palates. I'm wondering if we'll have oatmeal, polenta, or pancakes- all with a few butter sauteed figs of course.
There is nothing more delicious than planning what to eat the next day. I also had 2 more strips of bacon for lunch today and wanted 2 more for dinner but C said he didn't want to be a bacon widower. Even though these are top organic Neiman Schell Ranch bacon, bacon is still bacon. A slice probably carves 60 hours from the tail end of your life- hours I gladly give away but I must think of others. So I am sadly forced in to a quota of 4 per day, I have to wait until tomorrow morning. Despite the cement dust and renovation clutter in the kitchen, I think tomorrow's breakfast will kick ass, and beat standing in line for Le Note or Fanny's.
There is nothing more delicious than planning what to eat the next day. I also had 2 more strips of bacon for lunch today and wanted 2 more for dinner but C said he didn't want to be a bacon widower. Even though these are top organic Neiman Schell Ranch bacon, bacon is still bacon. A slice probably carves 60 hours from the tail end of your life- hours I gladly give away but I must think of others. So I am sadly forced in to a quota of 4 per day, I have to wait until tomorrow morning. Despite the cement dust and renovation clutter in the kitchen, I think tomorrow's breakfast will kick ass, and beat standing in line for Le Note or Fanny's.
 |
In truth, I've been waiting for the decline/fall of Western civilization all my life. Now that things are slowly spinning apart, I'm just trying to enjoy all the tasty meals I can. Tomorrow is a hefty digging day. Tussocks of grass must be moved, apple and lime trees planted in the ground. Soil weeded and amended. A quick tour or my newly fenced front garden: Frankenchairs under the michelia tree, I salvaged them from a neighbor on Hopkins and forced an unwilling C to restore them. On the right, the end table I made with our kitchen cabinet door- hinges and knob still attached as well as a rod spooler for C. My birdhouse on the right hand corner of the fence (noone has yet occupied). My leaf corral on the left, barely visible- I've rigged up a criss-crossed branch trap for trespassing cats as C says leaving out a bear trap is not legal. |
Oof, had to snail through "In the Mood for Love"- a story about a woman with some seriously coiffed hair and cheongsams so tight that she can't do much except barely pass people in hallways. The other half is about a seriously bummed out dude who gets no loving(except in one cut scene) from the stiff lady whose husband is having more adult activities his wife. Needless to say, C fell asleep half way through. I was forced to watch til the end, as well as all the deleted scenes with commentary, plus read all the Rotten Tomato entries.
Film critics really gushed about the unrequited smoldering restrained love of this type. Who wants to suffer through love that wasn't meant to be as dictated by script writers. Too tedious and foolish for my taste, but perhaps the critics are indulging in their own nostalgia. It would appear there is plenty lusting going on in the world: half the world acts on it, and the other half would rather watch movies where actors don't act on it probably since every other movie is about acting on one's illicit desires. But that Maggie Cheung has a shapely body, that's for sure.
Poor C, I should really put his Nutty Professor II, the Klumps higher on my Netflix queue so he'll have something to enjoy. He's been slogging through all my talky Roehmer films. Poor fellow.
Film critics really gushed about the unrequited smoldering restrained love of this type. Who wants to suffer through love that wasn't meant to be as dictated by script writers. Too tedious and foolish for my taste, but perhaps the critics are indulging in their own nostalgia. It would appear there is plenty lusting going on in the world: half the world acts on it, and the other half would rather watch movies where actors don't act on it probably since every other movie is about acting on one's illicit desires. But that Maggie Cheung has a shapely body, that's for sure.
Poor C, I should really put his Nutty Professor II, the Klumps higher on my Netflix queue so he'll have something to enjoy. He's been slogging through all my talky Roehmer films. Poor fellow.
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
Biscuit Bryce Sings Iron Maiden
C tortured me all hour by blaring Iron Maiden ballads. I cried foul as he never fessed up his penchance while we were dating. This would have effected his candidacy surely. He blithely says, "What's there to admit Who doesn't like Iron Maiden." Now I'm married to the man, I have to endure melodramatic metal songs in a ridiculous falsetto. I could have sworn I never found him listening to Iron Maiden in high school... Late bloomer...
After countless refrains of "Water water everywhere, not a drop to drink", C took pity on me and decided to put on new hits by JinuSean(sung GenuShan). Yes the "Dig my hand in the ice and pull Korea closer to Jersey" JinuSean. Out of all appropriated musical styles, Korean rap has got to be one of the worst- not as bad as french rap but heinous nonetheless. We decide to think up Korean rap star names for ourselves. C says I'm Gongbu Girl i.e. Study Girl. Terrible. This is because I spent all Wednesday pouring through my American Horticultural Society A-Z Encyclopedia- over 6000 photos- instead of spending a romantic evening for our 4th wedding anniversary. I'm lucky not to have burst a blood vessel on my eye.
So I go even lower by calling C by his party porn star name- Biscuit Bryce. The formula for one's party porn star name is adding first pet's name to the first street you grew up on. But I should take pity on the man as yesterday's surprise check from Douglas Supreme could not be cashed in as he sent it suspiciously unsigned.
C tortured me all hour by blaring Iron Maiden ballads. I cried foul as he never fessed up his penchance while we were dating. This would have effected his candidacy surely. He blithely says, "What's there to admit Who doesn't like Iron Maiden." Now I'm married to the man, I have to endure melodramatic metal songs in a ridiculous falsetto. I could have sworn I never found him listening to Iron Maiden in high school... Late bloomer...
After countless refrains of "Water water everywhere, not a drop to drink", C took pity on me and decided to put on new hits by JinuSean(sung GenuShan). Yes the "Dig my hand in the ice and pull Korea closer to Jersey" JinuSean. Out of all appropriated musical styles, Korean rap has got to be one of the worst- not as bad as french rap but heinous nonetheless. We decide to think up Korean rap star names for ourselves. C says I'm Gongbu Girl i.e. Study Girl. Terrible. This is because I spent all Wednesday pouring through my American Horticultural Society A-Z Encyclopedia- over 6000 photos- instead of spending a romantic evening for our 4th wedding anniversary. I'm lucky not to have burst a blood vessel on my eye.
So I go even lower by calling C by his party porn star name- Biscuit Bryce. The formula for one's party porn star name is adding first pet's name to the first street you grew up on. But I should take pity on the man as yesterday's surprise check from Douglas Supreme could not be cashed in as he sent it suspiciously unsigned.
Monday, September 8, 2003
Digging holes at home, digging holes at work, it's all the same. Can life get any saltier?
Miss Sof swung by yesterday, a whirlwind of heady and girly laughs. Her life stories full of flirtation and exploits. C got quite miffed because I sent him away so I could hear her stories in full detail and glory- some seduction involving drugs and coworkers, blue eyed asiophiles, fellow named Jesus at Burning Man. She said "I can play with the players now." I could see hearts and roses coming out of her conversation. Nothing but manacles, rats, and moldy bread on my end.
Big J has unearthed more revelatory dirt about her crooked contractor Mark. He had left her in the lurch with an unfinished kitchen and unpaid electricians; his checks to the cabinet makers bounced. Last week, he was known to be an adulterer who left his first wife to marry his mistress who was then pregnant. Of course the cheater is cheated as it turned out it was not his child. He is duly reviled by his birth children. Then this morning, it was further revealed that he had a third wife, Mark scammed her of her divorce settlement money from her more upright ex-husband. Furthermore, he has scammed a whole slew of clients of 200k and has fled the country. J thought she was the only one holding the bag, but there apparently is an exceedingly long line. Lucky for J she has lost only some ducats and sleepless nights.
In the front garden, there plays a red tailed squirrel who likes to look at the back of my head while munching on my nuts off the dogwood tree. I'll walk about testing my hypothesis, and he'll scamper up the tree accordingly so he can hit me with the crumbs all the while snacking away nut after nut. What a rat! But a really cute one so I'll let him go this time.
Mystery of mysteries, Douglas Supreme, C's agent, has sent in a paycheck without the requisite badgering phone calls. It's true.
Miss Sof swung by yesterday, a whirlwind of heady and girly laughs. Her life stories full of flirtation and exploits. C got quite miffed because I sent him away so I could hear her stories in full detail and glory- some seduction involving drugs and coworkers, blue eyed asiophiles, fellow named Jesus at Burning Man. She said "I can play with the players now." I could see hearts and roses coming out of her conversation. Nothing but manacles, rats, and moldy bread on my end.
Big J has unearthed more revelatory dirt about her crooked contractor Mark. He had left her in the lurch with an unfinished kitchen and unpaid electricians; his checks to the cabinet makers bounced. Last week, he was known to be an adulterer who left his first wife to marry his mistress who was then pregnant. Of course the cheater is cheated as it turned out it was not his child. He is duly reviled by his birth children. Then this morning, it was further revealed that he had a third wife, Mark scammed her of her divorce settlement money from her more upright ex-husband. Furthermore, he has scammed a whole slew of clients of 200k and has fled the country. J thought she was the only one holding the bag, but there apparently is an exceedingly long line. Lucky for J she has lost only some ducats and sleepless nights.
In the front garden, there plays a red tailed squirrel who likes to look at the back of my head while munching on my nuts off the dogwood tree. I'll walk about testing my hypothesis, and he'll scamper up the tree accordingly so he can hit me with the crumbs all the while snacking away nut after nut. What a rat! But a really cute one so I'll let him go this time.
Mystery of mysteries, Douglas Supreme, C's agent, has sent in a paycheck without the requisite badgering phone calls. It's true.
Saturday, September 6, 2003
Peking Duck vs Roast Turkey and the problem with mediocre cash
A friend asked me if I knew any get-rich-quick schemes. I held back. I didn't tell him about my specialized chess sets which will make me millions. Chinese food against American food. Bowls of rice marching against loaves of bread as pawns. Ketchup/soy sauce bottles as rooks. I should really quit my day job so I can concentrate more on this.
Does money buy freedom? Perhaps. Like many, I am stuck in the purgatory of the middle class- plenty enough money where you don't live paycheck to paycheck. But not enough to say no to a salary. Mainly a no because of an unwillingness to forgo middle class luxuries.
A friend asked me if I knew any get-rich-quick schemes. I held back. I didn't tell him about my specialized chess sets which will make me millions. Chinese food against American food. Bowls of rice marching against loaves of bread as pawns. Ketchup/soy sauce bottles as rooks. I should really quit my day job so I can concentrate more on this.
Does money buy freedom? Perhaps. Like many, I am stuck in the purgatory of the middle class- plenty enough money where you don't live paycheck to paycheck. But not enough to say no to a salary. Mainly a no because of an unwillingness to forgo middle class luxuries.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)