flashback, or Flashdance

1987 fashion for pre-teens at 2012 pricing for grown-ups!

Making these was an all-consuming hobby when I was a kid.

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biweekly

you said biweekly

did you mean twice a week or...

every fortnightly?

Liberals have their #occupy movement.
I have my Let's-Make-This-A-Word movement for my invention: fortnightly. Jump on the bandwagon! Everyone's doing it! Hashtag the heck out of #fortnightly and make Merriam-Webster take notice!

the word 'fortnightly' makes me think of him

present and past tenses

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funemployment 2012

(check back often - I'll be updating with my unadventures throughout the weekend)

I like to think my ex-Epic friends actually made up the word funemployment. If they didn't, they at least perfected the hell out of it, taking luxurious trips abroad to spend months discovering Australia, leasing condos on the beach to practice yoga in the sun, and skiing their way around the Alps. One particularly brilliant friend took a year to travel the entire world and write a book about her adventures. (Buy it on Amazon if you know what's good for you.)

Between my Epic job and the one I just left, I enjoyed a two-week period of funemployment. During that time, I went to lunch with friends (where I drank beer because I didn't have to go back to work after the meal), painted my fingernails, conducted a few phone and in-person interviews, and settled on a new job. It was nice, really nice. A quiet break from what had been a very hectic schedule of long working hours and travel.

This time around, because of my client's need for immediate help on their project, I have only two days of funemployment. That's right, Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon. And I plan to make the least of it.

friday

2:00p I left work (admittedly early, but not because I was trying to short-change anyone; my boss came around at noon and was all, "You're still here?") and drove home in the snow. Because of the weather, a number of my colleagues spent the day working from home so the planned celebratory happy hour will take place next week. Funemployment extension!

I love beer, and the moustache app.

3:00 I arrived at home. The drive was tedious and a little nerve-wracking. I'm not worried about ME in the snow, but distracted or inexperienced drivers can just as easily cause an accident in that kind of weather. It was a balmy 58 degrees in my apartment so I finally turned on the heat - for the first time since moving in last October. I spent a couple hours on the couch watching vapid, worthless television. (Thanks, Bravo TV!)

6:00 I migrated to my bedroom to draw and watch Psych on Hulu+. If you ever questioned my adoration for addiction to coffee, just know this: The two floor plans I drew last night both contain a coffee bar in the master bedroom. Good stuff.

saturday

7:30 Heaven forbid I ever sleep in. Both Monkey and George were resting quietly, but the thought of coffee -- ok, the unbridled enthusiasm I experience when thinking about coffee -- got me out of bed. I put on a pot and while it brewed I took Monkey down to the park to play in the snow. It is COLD out there, friends.

8:30 I made eggs and toast and drank coffee while catching up on some Words with Friends games. Serious. What did I do with my mornings before WWF? Read the news, I suppose. Meh - I do that five days a week.

9:30 Time to head out to scrape my car and let it warm up before driving to the gym for a swim with my friend and workout buddy, Carissa. This is a typical Saturday morning ritual through winter for us, and mostly it's an opportunity to gossip. Maybe I'll stop at Starbucks; it's on the way to the gym.

1:00 The pool was great. Thanks to sunny skies, the space felt bright and warm which was a relief compared to the 4 degree temperature outside. We gabbed and chatted and generally enjoyed one another's company for an hour while also getting in a good workout.

That's me on the left.

I had a delicious PB&J sandwich and lime La Croix and watched a few minutes of the Australian Open with my roommate. Now I'm back in my bedroom and preparing to play with my Legos. Consider it research for the floor plans I draw, not unlike when I watch The Cooking Channel for my food blog.

Pick up the giant Ball jar for $15 at Target. Have your friend's 12-year-old son independently choose to buy you a set of pink Legos for Christmas.

9:30 I woke up in bed after having dozed off while watching X Files. Excellent. Back to sleep!

sunday

8:00 Coffee and breakfast are done, and I started a couple new games of Words with Friends. I retrieved the carry-on suitcase from storage and have finished a couple loads of laundry. Saved by the Bell - Hawaii is on, so I'll probably catch another episode of that before turning a couple piles of stuff into a manageable bag for the road.



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new year, new job

I definitely loved that job, and especially the people with whom I had the very good fortune to work. I grew to enjoy the challenging and technical nature of the projects that stretched my knowledge to the limit. My boss, who I'm proud to call a friend, served as a wonderful mentor.

My coworkers never failed to show dedication and a remarkable team spirit. Or, as I often said, "Ride together, die together."

Nevertheless, the time was right to move on. The new gig starts first thing Monday morning.

Do I feel ready? No.

Does that bother me? Meh, a little bit.

Will I be successful? I sure as hell hope so!

sconnied pieces!

The view of our parking lot shows some very well-Sconnie pieces. Nice job, everyone!








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sconnie that piece

The way my fellow cheeseheads have been freaking out about the approaching storm...

... you'd think we all grew up in the mid-Atlantic or something. I can say from first-hand experience that those Marylanders know how to have a good forecast-induced panic attack. It borders on entertaining, actually. See a snow storm coming? People buy all the bottled water and nonperishable foods from store shelves. All businesses and schools close. And the government too.

But I digress. Here in the upper Midwest we have seen not ONE flurry of snow all winter, which is highly unusual and a little disconcerting, but not entirely unwelcome. I personally didn't mind wearing flip-flops to walk the dog as recently as, oh, Tuesday.

But I digress again. Whether it's the first or last snowfall of the season, we all (should) take steps to prepare for the weather. Let's talk about the car.

In the words of my friend Luke, when you park your vehicle on the eve of impending snow storms, Sconnie that piece* following these simple instructions:

• Leave your heater dials set to blast and the AC turned on. That's right, I said AC. Did you know AC doesn't stand for "Air Cold"? I learned this little trick from my dad, and he's sometimes often usually always right: Your AC will actually work in conjunction with your heater to remove moisture from the air and prevent windows from fogging up.

• Raise your windshield wipers so they don't get ice-crusted and/or stuck to the windshield

OOOOHH YEAH! Snow- and ice-free and ready to do their jobs!

• Put your scraper on the driver's side floor so you can grab it quickly when you crawl in to start the car and turn on the heater

Do not adjust your TV. Those white streaks are falling snow flakes.

• Back into your parking space so you can reach the windshield and easily pull out of the space

See how easily he will be able to pull forward?

Of course, make sure your gas tank is never below half and your wiper fluid is full. Keep emergency supplies on the back seat and your cell phone fully charged. Blibsy blabs.

* In the event this phrase requires explanation... which I hope it doesn't... Sconnie = Wisconsin (a typically snowy place). Piece = your auto. Hencetoforth, Sconnying that piece means preparing your car for snow.

online dating isn't for the faint-of-heart

Doing a little dating site-surfing. You know, trying to get my money's worth and maybe achieve their 6-month guarantee and even get a refund. Wait. A refund is not the goal of this subscription? Oh well.


Here are a few lowlights from tonight's searches. 

• Him represents the generic dude
• MIM = my inner monologue, or the sassy things I say to the computer while reading these profiles

Him: "hm. what do i want in a relationship?"
MIM: "Someone who will capitalize letters for you?"


Him: "I'm 18 years old now and looking for friends."
MIM: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *snort*"


Him: "laided back get money serious dude looking for someone whos laide back knows what she want to start a family..."
MIM: "But... it says right on your profile that you already have three kids." (This profile comes with bonus gang hand symbols in the pics. Nice touch.)


Him: "I get all the cable channels. Ha."
MIM: "There's oatmeal in my pantry, too. Not a selling point."


C'mon guys. There's gotta be someone out there who is willing to put up with all of THIS.

This is the face I make when listening to Right Said Fred.

My ailment needs a name

I have the opposite of Body Dismorphic Disorder. I feel awesome and can't for the life of me understand why the jeans on this rack don't fit over my right calf. Bizarre.





What department do we shop when pants don't work out?





Duh.

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iPhone

I went a whole day
without my iPhone. GASP! WHAT?!?
And I did survive.

(barely)

graphjams.com

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

My sister and I are nothing if not crafty. She refinished the face of her dishwasher with chalkboard paint for her toddler. GENIUS. We both have project lists longer than we are tall, which puts me at a slight disadvantage since I have a couple inches on her.

I don't know if this specific scenario plays out in her life, but I'd venture to say it does.

Me: "I have so, so many things going on right now. Are you ok with us just staying in tonight?"
Friend: "Sure thing."
Me: "Great, because I was thinking we could bake cookies to send to my family and friends. With home made icing. I'm going to need to stop at the grocery store to buy powdered sugar. And at the craft store to pick up little decorative baggies, and while I'm there remind me to get that can of red acrylic paint...."

And on... and on... and on.

Not all projects require a lot of thought, preparation, or specialized stuff, however. When I moved into this apartment last October, I took the bigger bedroom with the smaller shower. I now have a shower stall instead of a tub. This is fine, for the most part, and did require just a small lifestyle adjustment on my part. The lovely over-the-pipe shower caddy thing stuck out from the wall just enough that I had to step forward in the shower stall to the point that my face pressed up against the far wall.

There would be lathering. And rinsing. But no repeating. Not too comfortable. Easy enough to ditch the shower caddy thing to free up some arm space.

It rested on the floor in my bathroom for about a week while I added other items to the Goodwill pile. After all, I HATE ERRANDS and I'd be damned if I was going to Goodwill just to drop off this crusty old... wait a second.

Crusty to some is 'weathered' and 'full of character' to others.

Things I actually use and don't just dust every week.

So with one hammer and three nails it now hangs on the open wall space above my toilet. I am very proud of this.

R U in the carpet business now?

R U in the carpet business now?

* Photo and caption courtesy of my dad via a text message
** To which I replied, "Yes. Yes, I am. I don't know why I kept this a secret for so long."

Take THAT, Sh#t My Dad Says.

Elvira Hancock by Revlon

Recently at the nearby Super Target, Revlon nail polish was on sale for, like, free and I couldn't resist picking up a few new colors.

I knew Kate would show her enthusiasm, and possibly drive straight to the store.

See, I justify my extensive (and ever-growing) collection of nail polish options by doing girl math.

Salon manicure costs $30

- New nail polish color is maybe $6

I saved about $24

Gray Suede by Revlon, about a week after the initial painting.

In the '90s, we often emulated the fashion of the '60s. I personally rocked the center-parted long hair and bell bottoms all through high school. 

In the '00s, we emulated the '70s. Don't believe me? Watch Anchor Man and tell me Ron Burgundy ain't quite the catch.

In the '10s (if we can agree to call this decade the '10s, which I think is still up for debate) the '80s are back. Neon colors and leggings and side-ponytails and the auto-tune. LOVE IT. This trend rightfully extends to nail polish.

I went for dinner with a friend and made her play the guess-my-nail-polish-inspiration. She didn't guess Elvira from Scarface -- pretty obscure, admittedly. Once I explained it, however, and even did a little impersonation complete with coked-up far-off stare and weird slow-motion dancing-while-standing-still, she totally understood. She was also very proud of the length of my nails.

My inspiration.

Until I broke one.

Dating is so difficult, but at least I have great nails.