It's Just A Matter Of Time

I'm this close to talking my boss into paying me to go home and bake. THIS CLOSE PEOPLE! She complained when I didn't bring anything in this mornings and I casually mentioned that was because after working 11 hours yesterday I was too exhausted to do anything and crawled into bed at 7, with my arms wrapped tightly around a wine bottle and my little sister softly singing Beyonce in my ear. (Ok, I crawled into bed but then I got back out to have dinner with friends but still! 11 hours is too long!) Anyway, she said she'd think about it, then handed me a mountain of files and shut the door on me. You don't know her, but I do. And that's as positive as it gets.

Meanwhile, I got all settled in working hard at my desk (looking up recipes online), organizing, and just generally being important (eating my mom's cereal), when my boss calls me and tells me she wants to discuss the project I'm working on (Crap, what was I supposed to be working on?) and that I should follow her so we could walk and talk. I was thrilled because it's totally glorious outside, it's warm and sunny, and colorful, and I was pretty sure I could turn our walk-and-talk into a quick jaunt along the beach and some lunch on the Pier, the waves crashing nearby, the sun increasing my chances of getting melanoma again, maybe some volleyball players would ask me to join because I look the part, and once I get going they'll realize what a fatal mistake they've made but it'll be too late because I'll already be in the rotation, stripped of my pants and just wearing a tank top and Bubby's underwear (Bub, I borrowed your underwear!), wildly waving my arms toward the ball and hoping it'll hit in a direction, any direction, and my boss will be on the sidelines cheering me on, and soon the team will decide they didn't make a fatal mistake because at least I give it some effort and this makes them happy with me, plus they love that my boss is my grandma and that she's blind and is cheering in the wrong direction, but at least she's giving it some effort too, and then we'll say goodbye to the volleyballers, we've got some serious accounting to do, and we'll grab some ice cream cones, and let them melt as we eat and talk, and finally after a few hours, get back to the office and she'll give everyone the day off to enjoy what we just enjoyed and I'll make my way back to the beach, this time in a proper bathing suit, and will take a long nap in the sand.

Unfortunately, that's not what she had in mind. No, instead of walking outside like I had presumed, she meant walk her to the bathroom. On all kinds of levels - not the same thing. So, we walked to the bathroom and talked about the project I was supposed to be doing, because that's my job. To talk about work through a stall door. On our walk back to the office I mentioned it was beautiful outside, and that the tupperware I bring stuff in is still empty but she didn't exactly bite. She just put on a bigger coat and told me to go buy some ding dongs.

I think I'm wearing her down.

What Christmas Is Like At My House

Although Christmas is not my favorite holiday, it's a ton of fun to watch my brother get all excited and happy. He even just hears talk of presents and his smile turns into a double smile because he gets these extra creases in his face when he's really excited about something. And he doesn't know how to fake it, so when he's smiling it's for real. On the other hand, when he's chasing Bub around the house trying to bite her, he's not faking that either.

Anyway, it was just a typical Christmas. Michael woke up and the second he was given the ok proceeded to rip through his presents, then rip through everyone else's in a matter of seconds so that we were left to struggle through the wreckage and try to sort out what was what.

Amy-"I think I found one for you, oh wait, that's just a box of tissues."
Mom-"This is yours I think."
Bub-"Who got toothbrushes?"
Amy-"We both did."
Bub-"What? Who would give us toothbrushes."
Mom-"Me."
Bub-"Oh . . . thanks?"
Mom-"You're welcome. Oh did you girls get me this bottle of wine? Thank you! I love this wine!"
Bub-"No, I think that was Eduardo's."
Amy-"No, we got Eduardo this one."
Mom-"Well then whose wine is this?"
Amy-"You just pulled that off the wine rack Mom."
Mom-"Oh ha ha ha, you're right. This was already mine. Well maybe we should have some?"
Bub-"It's 9am. Hey, I think Michael is trying to put on my new pink sweater."
Ed-"Who cares if it's 9am, lets take Tequila shots, I just got this Tequila from Panama I want you guys to try."
Mom-"I'm just going to have a glass of this."
Ed-"I'll get some shot glasses."
Bub-"Does anyone care that it's 9am?"
Amy-"I can't get my Reese's peanut butter cup open!"
Mom-"I think this camera is for you sweetie."
Amy-"It's been stepped on."
Mom-"Well don't look at me, I think it was your sister."
Ed-"Here you go, shot for you, and shot for you."
Amy-"Bub!"
Bub-"I did not step on it. And Mom, you said you were getting me a camera."
Mom-"Oh that's right. Amy give that back to your sister."
Amy-"So I get toothbrushes?"
Mom-"And reese's."
Ed-"Who wants to make the toast?"
Bub-"This is gonna be a long day."
Ed-"That's not a good toast."
Amy-"Mom, you just dribbled wine all over Michael's new sweater."
Bub-"That's my new sweater!"
Mom-"Oh it'll wash out."
Amy-"Toast!"
Bub-"Merry Christmas then?"
Mom-"Merry Christmas family! Oops, I'm all out of wine."
Ed-"I'll get you some more baby."
Amy-"Merry Christmas!"
Bub-"Merry gah-blah@#$! That is some strong tequila!"
Ed-"I know that's right!"
Mom-"Merry Christmas!"
Everyone-"Merry Christmas!"
(moment of quiet while we look around at the mess we're standing in.)
Amy-"Hey, where's Michael?"
Mom-"Oh he's right. . . "
Bub-"Uh oh."
Mom-"Shoot, he's so sneaky."
Bub-"Oh no, she's giggling already."
Ed-"I'll check the neighbors."
Amy-"The neighbors?"
Ed-"He likes to go up there and lay on their couch with his pants off."
Amy-"Of course he does."
Bub-"Merry Christmas to them!"


And that was all before breakfast. As it turned out the tequila shot was not that bad of an idea. The bloody mary's and beer that followed, that we may need to rethink for next year.

I Never Really Liked Being Able To Feel My Toes Anyway

So I woke up this morning and couldn't see out my windows. This is not that odd, since it's so cold out it usually fogs up the windows when the heat comes on. So I start the coffee, put some pants on, and go to wipe the window so I can see what sort of day God brought the good people of Chicago when suddenly we've got a problem. I can't wipe down my windows. I can't wipe down my windows because it's not fog, the suckers are iced over ON THE INSIDE.

Well that's weird, I think and go to check the temperature on what has now become my home page, weather.com. Ok, apparently the coffee hasn't kicked in yet because that just looked like it said -5, feels like -30. That can't be right. What the hell is -30? That's like baby killing weather.

But it was. I waited until it warmed up to -3 feels like -29 before going to the grocery store because I needed toilet paper (and alcohol. for warmth), but for a second I thought, "I can do without wine and I do have coffee filters I could use as..." but then I suited up and went out. Because, coffee filters . . . really? This isn't college.

Why I Love My Grad Program #75

Because my novel workshop professor sent me this, due to a discussion we had in class that got a little off topic. (And she wonders why I haven't finished yet.)

Birthday Season

My mom called the other day to remind me that my brother's birthday was coming up. My brother who happens to be a twin with my sister, which usually denotes a shared birthday.

"Oh good," I said. "Are we giving up on Becky? Finally. I always wanted to be the only girl."
"Well, that would be a disappointment," she said.
Hmmmm.
"Because I like having lots of girls," she continued, obviously trying to cover.
"You only have two."
"That's lots when it's you two, trust me."

I left it at that and moved on to ask why she was only talking about Michael's birthday and not Becky's to which she replied, "Oh it's just too long to say both their names." And then she hung up on me without saying goodbye because that would be sucking up her talking space as well.


Speaking of birthdays, it's CJP's birthday today and she's the best neighbor ever! And now that I have new neighbors who play Kanye West NON STOP, I have an even deeper appreciation for someone who will come let me into my own house at 2am because I can't find my own keys even though they're in my pocket. Happy Birthday lady!

16 Degrees, Feels Like 3

The whole reason I run the minute I wake up is because I won't do it if I'm thinking about it. If I waited til the afternoon I would just talk myself out of it because clearly, CLEARLY, that UK Office Christmas special isn't going to watch itself. For the sixth time.

So I get up and go, waking up about halfway through when I reach the Vietnamese part of town and I kind of look around going, "What in the . . . where the hell am I? Why am I dressed like this?" But then I finish and don't feel as guilty eating Cold Stone for the fourth night in a row.

But now that the weather has gotten winter-y, running while sleeping, is a little more dangerous than usual. I had the sense to check the weather before I went out this morning because I couldn't see out my windows due to sheets of ice that had formed on them. 16 feels like 3? Sure, lets do this! So, I left and ran, and it really wasn't too bad except for the part where there's black ice everywhere and every other block I went slipping from side to side, varying between looking like I was trying to straddle the sidewalk, or work on my splits. It was kind of like doing yoga and running at the same time. Two workouts in one!

As much fun as that was I think I'm going to have to start doing my Jazzercise videos in the comfort of my living room soon. Either that, or turn on some Eurotrip and try to figure out which blanket is the warmest.

You Like What You See Mr. Salinger? How 'Bout You Ann Patchett, You Wanna Get With This?

Last night I caught James exposing himself to my bookshelf. Personally, I like to expose myself to the refrigerator, or my neighbors, but whatever, we all have our things.