Sunday, July 29, 2007

Grub a dub dub

So, husband and I aren't huge into cooking, and that means we eat a lot of salad and other easily assembled, 3-5 ingredient meals, not to mention we spend a lot of time at local restaurants. And we enjoy it!

Eating out is like our hobby, and come on, probably cheaper than golf or Marie Osmond dolls (plus, eating out is fun instead of offense intended to golfers, tons of offense intended to the Home Shopping Network). And we respect people who are into cooking, we really do, but what's starting to kill me is how often food-preparation-related comments are directed only at me. Why?? Do I look domestic? Do I send off the tell-me-about-food vibe? Do people look at me and think, "I bet she makes tarts while learning torts?" Or perhaps it's bc I'm a she, but then again, IT'S 2007.

Example: a neighbor came by the other day and made a joke, looking only at me, about how next time, he wanted brownies. Come on! Do I look like I enjoy 1950s advice such as "Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours," or my personal favorite, "Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him. " Also, last week, husband and I were at a get-together when a well-intentioned man started telling us, and when I say "us" I mean "me," some tricks about lasagna. a) what? why? I have never made lasagna in my life and b) why are meal comments directed only at me? Will we not both eat them? Since we have no kids and are both employed and about to be in intense graduate programs, why would anyone guess that I am the only one who whips us up some dinner?

The thing is, we are interested in learning how to make easy things (note the "we"), preferably with ingredients we can pronounce, so maybe it's not fair for me to rage. But it's my blog, so I don't have to be fair...yessssss!

And at some point in our lives, I hope we manage to have kids, and when we do, I hope I get to hang out with them a lot, and if my full-time gig is to rock out at home, then of course I will likely prepare many of our meals. (Though last I heard, husband was lobbying for me to be a hot shot attorney and him to be a stay-at-home dad, er, Xbox champ...not going to happen, honey)... So when one of us has more free time than the other, that one will spend time in the kitchen, and that one will likely be me. But that time is not now. And the year is 2007. Women can vote now, too. Thank you for your time.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Me & Pinocchio, Talking In Circles

Many of you might remember this great scene from the most recent (most lametastic) Shrek 3, when Pinocchio* says the following:

"Well, uhh, I don’t know where he’s NOT. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to assume that I couldn’t exactly not say that it is or isn’t almost partially incorrect. "

Prince (the royalty, not the artist formerly known as): "So you do know where he is?"

"On the contrary. I possibly more or less not definitely rejected the idea in no way with any amount of uncertainty that I undeniably do or do not know where he shouldn’t probably be. If that indeed wasn’t where he isn’t. Even if he wasn’t where I knew he was…"

Today at my awesome "lawyertype work" job (as my busfriend likes to call it), I felt just like this goofy nose-length-varying marionnette when I learned that in a particular circumstance, you have the burden of proving something is "not inconsistent" with the rest of the record. Now, I attended second grade (or "grade 2" as it's called in the Motherland), so I know a thing or two about prefixes and suffixes and their general meanings, so I know "in" usually means "not." Right?? So not inconsistent = not not consistent and the nots cancel each other out so = consistent?

(inconsistent: adj. not consistent in principles, least, that's what told me, and if there is one thing I know in this world, it's that the Internets don't lie.)

I then proceeded to read several paragraphs about how "not inconsistent" is different from "consistent" because the conclusion need not be directly supported by the record ("consistent"), it just can't directly contradict anything else that has been presented (be inconsistent). So, not inconsistent does not equal consistent.

Oh barf.

*I know "Pinocchio" looks weird but I totally checked the spelling.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

All is well

Sure, I spent 3 hours on public transportation yesterday. Unfortunately, sometimes I have to read boring stuff for my fakeout jobs. The occasional bummer is not unheard of. But dear readers, at least I don't have bugs moving inside my head.

Let us give thanks.

Monday, July 16, 2007

uh oh.

Free Online Dating

Readers, this rating is apparently because my blog says "kill" 7 times, "hurt" twice and "dangerous" once. It makes me sound violent, but really I am full of love. It's good, except for...Doesn't it understand that I only used kill because it was accidentally used instead of keel??

Maybe it doesn't matter.

Sigh. My excuses mean nothing. People like me are the reason for posters like this:

Sunday, July 15, 2007


This cracks me up, though let me make clear that my husband is NOT a braggart. Plus, fret not, we don't have elaborate chanting rituals. It mostly killed me because of how much Speed Scrabble has taken over our lives.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Reading Rainbow was right....we CAN do anything!

Today at my new job (and when I say job I mean place I hang out for free), I learned that when the government decides if someone's disabled, as in, disabled enough to receive Social Security, they take a look at whether they can do any of the following "unskilled sedentary occupations." THIS IS NOT A JOKE. A few of my faves:

  • telegraph-service rater (Just like gymnastics...I liked that telegraph, but the landing was rough. 8.5!)
  • weave-defect-charting clerk (Mayday! Mayday! Crappy hairdresser alert!)
  • cutter-and-paster, press clippings (psst...ever heard of CTRL-C and CTRL-V? It's 2007)

  • scoreboard operator
  • nut sorter (this one looks like an uber-maniac...take him away! This one....hrmmm...medium psycho...)
  • cigarette-making-machine catcher (I don't know if it's catching the cigarettes or the machines, but either way, I like it)
  • egg processor (i thought those were called chickens.)
  • napper tender (code for baby-sitter?)

  • plastic design applier (The old ladies who put clingy hearts on their windows on Valentine's Day can get PAID for that?)

  • polisher of eyeglass frames (grandparents all over America could be making millions!)
  • lens inserter (wtf)

  • dipper of clock and watch hands (like Dairy Queen? With sprinkles?)
  • golf ball trimmer (WTF!)

  • finisher (OF WHAT? I finish a fountain drink each day...turns out that's a job)

  • buckle wire inserter
  • button reclaimer (Aha! Stand back! That's mine!)
  • sticker
  • puller through (Good news, perseverant Americans! Hang in there, and you'll get paid somehow).

Just take a minute to imagine any of those on a business card. Visit and click on 137 Unskilled Sedentary Occupations near the bottom for more info....

Turns out, if law school doesn't work out, I'll always have options.

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Pseudo-homonym Ho-down

Sometimes, people write things like "I might kill over." Then, you spend a few minutes thinking about things that could mean...
They might kill over someone breaking into their home? They might kill over an affair (and try to use the heat of passion defense)? They might kill over someone borrowing their shoes with no permission? You find it bizarre and a little creepy. Then, after a few minutes, you realize they mean "keel," not kill, and feel a little better. A lesson to prevent this in the future:

to keel over is to fall as in faint, or to capsize or turn over.

to kill is to cause death or commit murder.

They sound similar, and in a world where people sometimes write "Lake Pal" instead of Lake Powell, I can understand the mix up. So, fainting okay, killing not.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

We moved.

Reasons Our New Place is Awesome, or, How Easily Pleased Two Graduate Students Can Be

1. DISH WASHER. This means that when we neglect our dishes for several days, we no longer have to look at them.
2. GARBAGE DISPOSAL, which means no more scooping out goopy slime scraps and running to the trash can.
3. One and a half bathrooms = two toilets = happy marriage. And speaking of bathrooms, one is upstairs and one is downstairs, which means you do not have to go up and down the stairs in the middle of the night, which means peace.
4. Air conditioning. The fans aka circling helicopters at our bedside have just become a thing of the past.
5. Carport. Next winter, no car scraping at the bumcrack of dawn!
6. A normal sized living room means we can fit a couch AND loveseat as opposed to just a loveseat. This means that if someone comes over, we can (gasp!) all take a seat, AT. THE. SAME. TIME.
7. No hilarious neighborhood kids doorbell ditching....YET. (At the last place, our 6-year-old friend doorbell ditched us each Saturday without fail, and once, Husband yelled "I caught you!" and kid responded, shouting "No you didn't!")
We miss you, little maniac.