As the year comes to a close and the New Year approaches, there is much to contemplate. Endings, beginnings, fresh starts, continuations, settling in, getting comfortable, feeling uprooted...lots of juxtapositions.
In a little less than a month I'll say goodbye to a place I've worked for nearly 10 years. (15 days shy of 10 years, to be exact) I'll be starting the new year with a new job, doing something COMPLETELY different, with new people and new routines. I'm excited, bold, confident, ... self-conscious, shy, and teary, all at the same time.
Perhaps it's a good thing that life is so incredibly busy right now that I don't have much time to let these changes stew inside me. I must keep marching on, meeting deadlines, planning, making dinner and washing the dishes, testing, presenting, and fulfilling all my obligations.
In the meantime,
How do you know an accountant is on vacation?
She comes in after 8am and isn't wearing a suit!
Ha ha! Groan....
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Friday, November 15, 2013
Expert Opinion
My family has a thing for cardinals. Stick a cardinal on something and the odds that we'll buy it have automatically increased 10-fold. Christmas time is always a good time to stock up on cardinals and my Christmas decorations are proof of that. I've got a tree full of cardinals, I've got cardinal clocks, picture frames, candles, candle holders, candle warmers, wreaths, mugs, plates, snow globes, figurines, napkins, napkin rings, dish clothes, magnets, hand towels, soap pumps, and cookie cutters. My collection is vast and carefully curated. So I am qualified to make the following judgement.
This
is the worst cardinal I've ever seen.
Shame shame Target.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
October. The Orange Month
Sorry I had to lock down the blog. But let's get to know each other again. Soon.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Are You Addicted to Me?
A late start to my Saturday means that the groceries are purchased and supper (hopefully for a few nights) is in the crock pot, but that exercise class went on without me. Oh well. There is enough to do around our house to keep my legs and mind busy.
For now, though, I'm sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and watching Roni take a nap. While trying to clean the dining room of clutter I came across a note I wrote to myself a few months ago, while listening to a podcast of Wiretap, by Jonathan Goldstein. (If you've never listened to Wiretap, I highly recommend it! Check your local NPR website for broadcast day/time or subscribe to the podcast like I do)
That particular show was about addictions and one of the guests read her essay on addictions to people. I immediately identified with the author. She described this constant urge to be with people, to be in the center of the action, to always have plans. However, whenever she was physically WITH these people and immediately afterwards, she was miserable. She would ask herself "Why am I here? Why do I like these people? What am I getting out of this???"
She came to the conclusion that she was addicted to people, based on three questions a person would ask themselves to try to determine if they're suffering from an addiction:
1. What is [this] doing for me?
2. Do I actually enjoy [this]?
3. What is this costing me (financially, mentally, emotionally, physically) and is it worth it?
She decided that she was addicted to people who were constantly "taking," never "giving." Who sucked the fun out of situations instead of amping up the fun. Who gave her nothing to think about. And like I said, I immediately decided that yes, I was also addicted to certain people and I needed to break this addiction.
But then a horrifying thought crossed my mind: What if people are addicted to ME? What if I'M the taker, rarely the giver? Do I make social situations fun or do I unload problems on my friends? Am I too ego-centric to notice? Do people go home after being with me and feel drained or uplifted? They were chilling thoughts and after running though times in my life that I felt addictED, I was now cycling through memories and finding all my addictING moments.
I've been mulling these thoughts around in my mind for weeks now. Of course at the same time I was also planning a wedding, where the primary focus was George and me. Weeks and months of celebratory events and attention haven't exactly offered the clearest picture of self-examination. But as I sit in a quiet house, alone with my thoughts, I feel like I'm swimming up from great depths of self-absorption, ready to shed the weight of gossip, minutiae, and "me."
For now, though, I'm sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and watching Roni take a nap. While trying to clean the dining room of clutter I came across a note I wrote to myself a few months ago, while listening to a podcast of Wiretap, by Jonathan Goldstein. (If you've never listened to Wiretap, I highly recommend it! Check your local NPR website for broadcast day/time or subscribe to the podcast like I do)
That particular show was about addictions and one of the guests read her essay on addictions to people. I immediately identified with the author. She described this constant urge to be with people, to be in the center of the action, to always have plans. However, whenever she was physically WITH these people and immediately afterwards, she was miserable. She would ask herself "Why am I here? Why do I like these people? What am I getting out of this???"
She came to the conclusion that she was addicted to people, based on three questions a person would ask themselves to try to determine if they're suffering from an addiction:
1. What is [this] doing for me?
2. Do I actually enjoy [this]?
3. What is this costing me (financially, mentally, emotionally, physically) and is it worth it?
She decided that she was addicted to people who were constantly "taking," never "giving." Who sucked the fun out of situations instead of amping up the fun. Who gave her nothing to think about. And like I said, I immediately decided that yes, I was also addicted to certain people and I needed to break this addiction.
But then a horrifying thought crossed my mind: What if people are addicted to ME? What if I'M the taker, rarely the giver? Do I make social situations fun or do I unload problems on my friends? Am I too ego-centric to notice? Do people go home after being with me and feel drained or uplifted? They were chilling thoughts and after running though times in my life that I felt addictED, I was now cycling through memories and finding all my addictING moments.
I've been mulling these thoughts around in my mind for weeks now. Of course at the same time I was also planning a wedding, where the primary focus was George and me. Weeks and months of celebratory events and attention haven't exactly offered the clearest picture of self-examination. But as I sit in a quiet house, alone with my thoughts, I feel like I'm swimming up from great depths of self-absorption, ready to shed the weight of gossip, minutiae, and "me."
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Is this thing on????
Um, hi.
Should I just do that awkward thing, where you pretend you haven't spoken with or seen a friend in 6 months and just start shooting the breeze, like nothing's happened? Or do I need to go into an embarrasing and long-winded explanation about why I've ignored you for 6 months?
Shoot the breeze? Ok.
Being Mrs. Clooney does not feel all that different than being George Clooney's girlfriend. The exception being that he doesn't go home at night anymore. We're settling into new routines and trying to get the house ready for football renters as well as unpacking and finding spots for wedding gifts.
We had a meal in Michigan last week that cannot be described in human language. From crusty-wasabi-tuna start to chocolate-peanut-butter-s'more finish the meal was outstanding.
Interestingly, we did not receive a wedding gift from neighbors Screamy and Blank Stare. Perhaps they're waiting to see what's left on the registry? More likely, they're gifting us a huge pile of leaves from their yard, this fall. Love ya!
Another school year is about to kick off--both at work and personally. Time kind of stopped on August 3rd, so my reaction to getting the back-to-school emails was incredulous: "WE GO BACK TO SCHOOL THE FIRST WEEK OF AUGUST????" I have reexamined my calendar and now accept that, yes...life DOES go on after your wedding.
Should I just do that awkward thing, where you pretend you haven't spoken with or seen a friend in 6 months and just start shooting the breeze, like nothing's happened? Or do I need to go into an embarrasing and long-winded explanation about why I've ignored you for 6 months?
Shoot the breeze? Ok.
Being Mrs. Clooney does not feel all that different than being George Clooney's girlfriend. The exception being that he doesn't go home at night anymore. We're settling into new routines and trying to get the house ready for football renters as well as unpacking and finding spots for wedding gifts.
We had a meal in Michigan last week that cannot be described in human language. From crusty-wasabi-tuna start to chocolate-peanut-butter-s'more finish the meal was outstanding.
Interestingly, we did not receive a wedding gift from neighbors Screamy and Blank Stare. Perhaps they're waiting to see what's left on the registry? More likely, they're gifting us a huge pile of leaves from their yard, this fall. Love ya!
Another school year is about to kick off--both at work and personally. Time kind of stopped on August 3rd, so my reaction to getting the back-to-school emails was incredulous: "WE GO BACK TO SCHOOL THE FIRST WEEK OF AUGUST????" I have reexamined my calendar and now accept that, yes...life DOES go on after your wedding.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
South Bend Celebration
Last night was my final exam for my spring class. I won't go into too much detail but I struggled with a page and a half question that began about WWII planes and their wing design and ended with sampling dead flies from a 1940s restaurant without air-conditioning. It was time for a well-earned margarita.
George picked me up and we went to a Mexican restaurant that was originally a house. We sat upstairs in the bar, choosing a booth with a majestic view of the parking lot. Conversation centered--as it has for the last 9 months--around the wedding (and when the waitress was ever going to bring George his requested salted glass.) All in all, a regular no-story-here evening.
Suddenly George looked down at the parking lot and said something like "When did the cops get here?" Directly below us were a parked mini van and a car. Outside of the cars were 2 women and a man. And surrounding the cars and people were four squad cars and 5 cops. The women and man didn't appear to be shouting or fighting but police officers separated them and questioned them individually. I noticed in the minivan that there was a child sitting in the front seat.
Our waitress walked by and made a comment about there never being a dull moment at the restaurant. A patron asked what was going on and the waitress said that the people were doing drugs in their cars--WITH THE CHILD--and someone called the police. Whether or not that's true, I don't know. No one seemed to be mad or manic or even nervous. After a few minutes the police drove away and the people got in their cars and drove away and our night returned to normal. Except that George and I were now comparing the scene to HBO's The Wire and became obsessed with remembering every character on the show. Proposition Joe?? Omar?? Dukie?? I miss you all.
The story is not over!
The universe has a way of correcting itself. For that potential negative excitement we were rewarded with positivity. We walked out of the restaurant and to the parking lot when a teacup chihuahua came running at us.
Nuzzling our legs and wagging it's tail, the little puppy couldn't seem to get enough of us. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. (Perspective may be altered by the 2 margaritas I had) The chihuahua was being "walked" by a HUGE man, who told us the dog was a "people person." All 3.8lbs. I asked the man what the dog's name was.
Mrs. Doubtfire.
"C'mon Mrs. Doubtfire. Leave them alone Mrs. Doubtfire."
And all was right in the world.
George picked me up and we went to a Mexican restaurant that was originally a house. We sat upstairs in the bar, choosing a booth with a majestic view of the parking lot. Conversation centered--as it has for the last 9 months--around the wedding (and when the waitress was ever going to bring George his requested salted glass.) All in all, a regular no-story-here evening.
Suddenly George looked down at the parking lot and said something like "When did the cops get here?" Directly below us were a parked mini van and a car. Outside of the cars were 2 women and a man. And surrounding the cars and people were four squad cars and 5 cops. The women and man didn't appear to be shouting or fighting but police officers separated them and questioned them individually. I noticed in the minivan that there was a child sitting in the front seat.
Our waitress walked by and made a comment about there never being a dull moment at the restaurant. A patron asked what was going on and the waitress said that the people were doing drugs in their cars--WITH THE CHILD--and someone called the police. Whether or not that's true, I don't know. No one seemed to be mad or manic or even nervous. After a few minutes the police drove away and the people got in their cars and drove away and our night returned to normal. Except that George and I were now comparing the scene to HBO's The Wire and became obsessed with remembering every character on the show. Proposition Joe?? Omar?? Dukie?? I miss you all.
The story is not over!
The universe has a way of correcting itself. For that potential negative excitement we were rewarded with positivity. We walked out of the restaurant and to the parking lot when a teacup chihuahua came running at us.
Nuzzling our legs and wagging it's tail, the little puppy couldn't seem to get enough of us. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen. (Perspective may be altered by the 2 margaritas I had) The chihuahua was being "walked" by a HUGE man, who told us the dog was a "people person." All 3.8lbs. I asked the man what the dog's name was.
Mrs. Doubtfire.
"C'mon Mrs. Doubtfire. Leave them alone Mrs. Doubtfire."
And all was right in the world.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
100
If someone told me they'd give me 100 sandwiches, I'd probably think "I'm drinking spinach juice, so a sandwich sounds good this morning. But 100? That's insane!"
If someone gave me 100 coupons to Trader Joe's I'd probably think "Pumpkin whoopie pies, here I come! But how could I ever use 100 coupons?"
If someone said "In 100 days you need to move out of your house," I'd think "No sweat. What should I do with the other 82 days?"
But this morning a website told me that my wedding is in 100 days. And I'm losing my spinach juice.
If someone gave me 100 coupons to Trader Joe's I'd probably think "Pumpkin whoopie pies, here I come! But how could I ever use 100 coupons?"
If someone said "In 100 days you need to move out of your house," I'd think "No sweat. What should I do with the other 82 days?"
But this morning a website told me that my wedding is in 100 days. And I'm losing my spinach juice.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Marriage Retreat
Yesterday George and I spent 12 hours at Notre Dame, learning what it's going to be like when we're married. We both went into it with an open mind and ready to--quite honestly--out-couple everyone there. We were going to communicate circles around everyone. "Eat our compromising dust!" The day went like this:
8:30am: Checked in. And cut a check. Learning how to be married is not free.
8:31am: Looked around the room of couples. Figured out we had to be the most "seasoned" couple in the room. Average age--24. We were also the only couple that did at some point in the day say "We're Domers."
8:35am: Got one of the 4 bagels that were left. :(
8:40am: Meet our 1st friends of the day. They were seniors at Notre Dame, very nice, very "the world is full of options," and best of all--the bride-to-be was from Hastings, Nebraska! What are the odds?
9:00am: Retreat got started with introductions and ice breakers. We wowed our small group with our how-we-met story. We met our 2nd and 3rd friends of the day and realize they must have purposely put us all together, as the "senior" couples.
9:45am: Time to communicate one-on-one with George. Luckily George and I love to communicate and had already discussed most of the topics, so we hit the high points and then fought about who loved each other more.
We listened and then communicated the rest of the morning and then went to South Dining Hall for lunch. I've never seen a more outlandish spread of food. All I could think about, walking through the no-rhyme-or-reason setup, was how much food they must donate. (I hope they donate the leftovers and don't throw it away. Yikes)
12:55pm: Bolted to the on-campus Starbucks for an afternoon jolt before getting started listening again.
2:00pm: Watched a how not to communicate video, full of Everyone Loves Raymond clips. Actually laughed.
I have to be honest: at some point, it all just became listen, communicate, listen, communicate. Which was good, because we talked about great stuff. But by the end, we both pretty sore from sitting all day and rehashing conversations we've had before. We walked out at 8:30pm with a certificate and a high-five.
High fives...our favorite form of communication.
8:30am: Checked in. And cut a check. Learning how to be married is not free.
8:31am: Looked around the room of couples. Figured out we had to be the most "seasoned" couple in the room. Average age--24. We were also the only couple that did at some point in the day say "We're Domers."
8:35am: Got one of the 4 bagels that were left. :(
8:40am: Meet our 1st friends of the day. They were seniors at Notre Dame, very nice, very "the world is full of options," and best of all--the bride-to-be was from Hastings, Nebraska! What are the odds?
9:00am: Retreat got started with introductions and ice breakers. We wowed our small group with our how-we-met story. We met our 2nd and 3rd friends of the day and realize they must have purposely put us all together, as the "senior" couples.
9:45am: Time to communicate one-on-one with George. Luckily George and I love to communicate and had already discussed most of the topics, so we hit the high points and then fought about who loved each other more.
We listened and then communicated the rest of the morning and then went to South Dining Hall for lunch. I've never seen a more outlandish spread of food. All I could think about, walking through the no-rhyme-or-reason setup, was how much food they must donate. (I hope they donate the leftovers and don't throw it away. Yikes)
12:55pm: Bolted to the on-campus Starbucks for an afternoon jolt before getting started listening again.
2:00pm: Watched a how not to communicate video, full of Everyone Loves Raymond clips. Actually laughed.
I have to be honest: at some point, it all just became listen, communicate, listen, communicate. Which was good, because we talked about great stuff. But by the end, we both pretty sore from sitting all day and rehashing conversations we've had before. We walked out at 8:30pm with a certificate and a high-five.
High fives...our favorite form of communication.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Wildlife Kingdom
First, I almost get hit by deer on campus.
Then, I get hit by a guy bicycle.
Yesterday, I was almost eaten by a hawk.
(I may be exaggerating just a smidge)
I walked out of my building yesterday and a giant hawk swoops in from out of nowhere, and lands on the bushes next to me. I stopped walking, because I've seen Jurassic Park, and what I learned is that to avoid being eaten by animals you should make no movement.
The hawk and I had a staring match for about a minute, while I thought to myself "How hungry is this hawk and will he make a play for my green smoothie cup? Do I smell enticing? The sun shines for ONE MINUTE this week and of course it's when I'm trying to take a close up picture of a hawk." I also said a silent prayer that I decided against making the day the 1st Annual "Bring Roni to Work" Day.
I lived to tell the tale, rest assured. Next time I leave my office, though, I'm shouldering my slingshot, just to be safe.
Then, I get hit by a guy bicycle.
Yesterday, I was almost eaten by a hawk.
(I may be exaggerating just a smidge)
I walked out of my building yesterday and a giant hawk swoops in from out of nowhere, and lands on the bushes next to me. I stopped walking, because I've seen Jurassic Park, and what I learned is that to avoid being eaten by animals you should make no movement.
The hawk and I had a staring match for about a minute, while I thought to myself "How hungry is this hawk and will he make a play for my green smoothie cup? Do I smell enticing? The sun shines for ONE MINUTE this week and of course it's when I'm trying to take a close up picture of a hawk." I also said a silent prayer that I decided against making the day the 1st Annual "Bring Roni to Work" Day.
I lived to tell the tale, rest assured. Next time I leave my office, though, I'm shouldering my slingshot, just to be safe.
Friday, February 15, 2013
I'm Frowny
Because of a cancelled appointment this morning, I found myself with an extra hour before I was expected at work. I hurried home, changed clothes, ran to the post office, then went to the dry cleaner to pick up SIXTEEN sweaters. (More on that in a later post) I decided to stop at Starbucks, to get this Friday started on the right foot.
Standing in line, waiting for the dark roast to brew, I was absorbed in my thoughts of the day and the weekend ahead. Some of these were serious thoughts: make sure to run through next Friday's schedule before the presentation today...3 or 4 website updates today....how close are we to getting that mailing out the door...etc. But a lot of my thoughts were happy: dinner tonight will be fun, thankfully the restaurant has great seafood....can't wait to look at wedding rings tonight with George...will have to get a lot of studying done on Sunday since Saturday is Monte Carlo night...
Apparently my thinking face is really a frowny face. The older gentleman standing next me turned to me and said "How are you today?" I smiled and said I was fine and asked how he was. He said "I thought I'd ask because you were frowning." I was? I thought I was just thinking. I laughed and said I was actually in a great mood, I was just thinking about the next few days...and then I felt the insane urge to apologize to him. As if my frown ruined his day.
Our coffees were both ready at the same time and I asked how he was doing today. He said he was doing great. "I'm not from around here and I just LOVE the snow. I LOVE the thrill of driving on slick roads."
So...I'll be more conscious of my thinking/frowny face and try to look more friendly. But that observation came from a crazy person who loves to drive on icy roads.
Standing in line, waiting for the dark roast to brew, I was absorbed in my thoughts of the day and the weekend ahead. Some of these were serious thoughts: make sure to run through next Friday's schedule before the presentation today...3 or 4 website updates today....how close are we to getting that mailing out the door...etc. But a lot of my thoughts were happy: dinner tonight will be fun, thankfully the restaurant has great seafood....can't wait to look at wedding rings tonight with George...will have to get a lot of studying done on Sunday since Saturday is Monte Carlo night...
Apparently my thinking face is really a frowny face. The older gentleman standing next me turned to me and said "How are you today?" I smiled and said I was fine and asked how he was. He said "I thought I'd ask because you were frowning." I was? I thought I was just thinking. I laughed and said I was actually in a great mood, I was just thinking about the next few days...and then I felt the insane urge to apologize to him. As if my frown ruined his day.
Our coffees were both ready at the same time and I asked how he was doing today. He said he was doing great. "I'm not from around here and I just LOVE the snow. I LOVE the thrill of driving on slick roads."
So...I'll be more conscious of my thinking/frowny face and try to look more friendly. But that observation came from a crazy person who loves to drive on icy roads.
(Frowny)
Thursday, February 14, 2013
He really IS my valentine, I swear!
Two nights ago I had a very bad dream.
I dreamt that I was getting married. It was the week before the wedding: everyone was in town, we were running around doing errands, having fun, and just being busy as all get out. My family was there, my friends were everywhere, and everyone kept asking me "Are you excited?!?!" I would scream "YES!!! I'm SO excited I can't stand it!"
And then--3 dream days before the wedding--I realized that I was marrying an old lady. All of the work, all of the excitement, all of the butterflies...had been over a 90+ year old woman. And it turns out that I was the only one in the dream who DIDN'T realize I was marrying an old lady. I was completely panicked, not knowing how I was going to tell people that I didn't realize my fiance was a grandma and that I was NOT excited anymore. Who would believe me, that I didn't know my fiance was an old woman? And how would I tell this woman?
I woke myself up, sweating. Disoriented, I thought to myself "How could you have gotten yourself into this, Jessica!?!?!" Then I felt Roni beside me, began to figure out just where and when I was, and it came to me that, no....I'm marrying George. My best friend.
And I went blissfully back to sleep.
I dreamt that I was getting married. It was the week before the wedding: everyone was in town, we were running around doing errands, having fun, and just being busy as all get out. My family was there, my friends were everywhere, and everyone kept asking me "Are you excited?!?!" I would scream "YES!!! I'm SO excited I can't stand it!"
And then--3 dream days before the wedding--I realized that I was marrying an old lady. All of the work, all of the excitement, all of the butterflies...had been over a 90+ year old woman. And it turns out that I was the only one in the dream who DIDN'T realize I was marrying an old lady. I was completely panicked, not knowing how I was going to tell people that I didn't realize my fiance was a grandma and that I was NOT excited anymore. Who would believe me, that I didn't know my fiance was an old woman? And how would I tell this woman?
I woke myself up, sweating. Disoriented, I thought to myself "How could you have gotten yourself into this, Jessica!?!?!" Then I felt Roni beside me, began to figure out just where and when I was, and it came to me that, no....I'm marrying George. My best friend.
And I went blissfully back to sleep.
Friday, February 8, 2013
I've Got Nothing
I don't know what's wrong with me. I see that in 2010 I had 167 blog posts! 2011: 60 something. 2012: 30 something. I'm letting myself down! Where is my radar for the crazy people? Why am I not remembering the interesting things that happen to me?
What's happening to me is that I'm spending a boatload of money to throw a party for more people than I'll even have a chance to say "Hey how are you grab a drink thanks for coming try the cake bye." My world lately has revolved around ribbon and twinkle lights, box pleats vs. pin tuck pleats, knots in string and napkin rings. (little rhyme there, did you catch it?) It's quite interesting. To no one.
I'm a list maker so maybe I'll make a list of some interesting things that have happened to me lately. Then when I fail to write about them, you can all text me or email me and make me feel guilty.
1. I had a 3.5 hour dinner last week
2. Following that dinner something weird happened with my car
3. I've been waking up at 5am regularly. On purpose. With no place to be
4. I helped Roni catch a bug the other night
5. I'm kind of addicted to House of Cards
6. I wrote in a Blue Book last week for the 1st time in [never mind] years
7. Roni has a new way to communicate with me
Gotta go. I should be working on my database homework for class TOMORROW. Class on Saturday. Makes Fridays seem a little anti-climatic.
What's happening to me is that I'm spending a boatload of money to throw a party for more people than I'll even have a chance to say "Hey how are you grab a drink thanks for coming try the cake bye." My world lately has revolved around ribbon and twinkle lights, box pleats vs. pin tuck pleats, knots in string and napkin rings. (little rhyme there, did you catch it?) It's quite interesting. To no one.
I'm a list maker so maybe I'll make a list of some interesting things that have happened to me lately. Then when I fail to write about them, you can all text me or email me and make me feel guilty.
1. I had a 3.5 hour dinner last week
2. Following that dinner something weird happened with my car
3. I've been waking up at 5am regularly. On purpose. With no place to be
4. I helped Roni catch a bug the other night
5. I'm kind of addicted to House of Cards
6. I wrote in a Blue Book last week for the 1st time in [never mind] years
7. Roni has a new way to communicate with me
Gotta go. I should be working on my database homework for class TOMORROW. Class on Saturday. Makes Fridays seem a little anti-climatic.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Enlightened by NPR
Today's my birthday. But I'm sure you already knew that when your iPhone alerted you this morning. Mine did.
My special birthday treat this year is getting a new alternator for my car. My car decided to break down last night--thankfully--as I turned into the parking lot of the grocery. I kept reminding myself that this could have been worse--it COULD have happened in downtown Chicago last weekend.
Being the nicest fiance that ever lived, George Clooney took me to work this morning. We started my day off right with a swing through Starbucks to get a birthday coffee and to buy the local paper (which features our engagement announcement! Page B8!). When I ride by myself the radio dial could be set to anything from NPR to the PG-rated morning trio to the "oh-so-crazy" guy and predictions from Barbara the Gray Witch. But when riding with George it's pretty much exclusively NPR.
We pulled onto campus as Morning Edition was doing their introduction, which always ends with a celebrity birthday. Ladies and gentlemen, you'll need to sit down. I share my birthday with none other than
According to Wikipedia: Skrillex is the stage name for Sonny John Moore and he's won 3 Grammies. His genre is electronic music, dubstep (what???), and brostep (wow).
NPR COULD have mentioned that another famous person who would have celebrated a birthday today was MARTIN LUTHER KING JR! Instead, I now feel like a stereotypical old person, not knowing who the kids are listening to these days.
Oh well. Cheers Skrillex! I'm going to brostep today, in your honor. Will you do the "shopping cart" in honor of me?
My special birthday treat this year is getting a new alternator for my car. My car decided to break down last night--thankfully--as I turned into the parking lot of the grocery. I kept reminding myself that this could have been worse--it COULD have happened in downtown Chicago last weekend.
Being the nicest fiance that ever lived, George Clooney took me to work this morning. We started my day off right with a swing through Starbucks to get a birthday coffee and to buy the local paper (which features our engagement announcement! Page B8!). When I ride by myself the radio dial could be set to anything from NPR to the PG-rated morning trio to the "oh-so-crazy" guy and predictions from Barbara the Gray Witch. But when riding with George it's pretty much exclusively NPR.
We pulled onto campus as Morning Edition was doing their introduction, which always ends with a celebrity birthday. Ladies and gentlemen, you'll need to sit down. I share my birthday with none other than
Skrillex
According to Wikipedia: Skrillex is the stage name for Sonny John Moore and he's won 3 Grammies. His genre is electronic music, dubstep (what???), and brostep (wow).
NPR COULD have mentioned that another famous person who would have celebrated a birthday today was MARTIN LUTHER KING JR! Instead, I now feel like a stereotypical old person, not knowing who the kids are listening to these days.
Oh well. Cheers Skrillex! I'm going to brostep today, in your honor. Will you do the "shopping cart" in honor of me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)