The Year in Review

January: Evan turned 2 and we celebrated with an Elmo-themed birthday party. I turned 30 and we celebrated with a booze-themed birthday party.

February: Quit my job working for Satan and felt instantly better about life. Went to my first bachelor party.

March: Moved across the country.

April: Partied it up Puge-style at Boy Chris and Katie's wedding in Pasadena. Attended Lili's baby shower and predicted she was having a girl.

May: My Grandma Pat passed away. Juno was born one week later. Her birth and the joy and anticipation surrounding it cushioned the loss tremendously.

June: Moved across the country again. Lost about 10 lbs. Started this blog.

July: Started a new job and met my friend Katie.

August: Celebrated Kim and Justin's marriage in Portland. Had the crap scared out of me when Dad was hospitalized briefly. Was incredibly thankful for Dad's speedy recovery and subsequent good health.

September: Spent some quality time with Dad and the family. Celebrated Brad and Gustavo's marriage...for the third time. It doesn't get old; those guys throw a rad party.

October: Went to Pasadena and am thinking about moving there. Met Juno and fell in love at first sight. Went to San Diego and am thinking about moving there.

November: Welcomed Rico home from Iraq and learned that he and Beth are making me an auntie again.

December: Took a fantastic trip to New York. Reflected on the amazing surprises, blessings and gifts this last year brought me. Started thinking about grad school, next career move and where I want to land for awhile. Celebrated both the passing of one incredible year and the hope and excitement of a new year with family and friends.

Here's to 2009 kicking the ass of 2008! Be safe, be happy, and cheers to you!

The Most Gorgeous Train Wreck You Will Ever See

Today my mom and I are indulging in our favorite past times: eating and mocking others.

Have you ever seen Say Yes to the Dress on TLC? It is a show all about real women picking out their wedding dresses at the famed Kleinfeld bridal salon in New York. It is also a study in family dynamics, passive-agressive behavior and tacky taste in fashion. Obviously I love it.

There is a marathon on today. I am feeling better so my mom whipped up some of her famous crab and cheese fondue and we're avoiding the cold and crowds out there...and laughing our asses off at these women, their moms and bridesmaids. Some of the highlights:

-A woman is afraid that if her dress has too much beading, her fiance will leave her at the altar

-The bustiest woman I have ever seen this side of porn trying on dresses in front of her fiance, who CANNOT STOP TALKING ABOUT HER CLEAVAGE. On TV. In front of her mother.

-The (clearly single) sister of the bride refusing to crack a smile or tell her sister she looks anything other than "nice" in each beautiful dress

-A jilted bride has to make the decision to lose $6,000 on a dress and leave it at the store, or pay the remainder, take it with her, and hope that one day she'll get to wear it. She decides to pay for it and keep it. (Sweetie, sell it on eBay and take a nice vacation!)

-A woman breaks down in tears after her mom tells her that her dream dress is heinous

Mind you, my mom and I are basically treating this show like Mystery Science Theater 3000 and screaming out when someone tries on something hideous or looks awful in a dress (which happens about every two minutes). We are also placing bets on how quickly each marriage ends in divorce.

The other great part is watching women freak out over getting married. Not freak out like, "Oh my God! I'm getting married! This is so great!" More like, "I'm having trouble committing to a dress because ultimately I am unsure about marrying someone and signing paperwork and legally binding myself to another human. But hey! Let's try on some pretty gowns!"

Every commerical break also features an ad for the movie (and affront to all women everywhere) Bride Wars. I mean, seriously. Can I hear from the ladies in the house? Is the premise that the "perfect" wedding is more important than interpersonal relationships insulting to anyone else? Ugh.

Happy Birthday Cappa! aka "That's a Hot Tranny Mess!"

What, you thought I'd do a birthday tribute for Jesus? Nope. Today we are celebrating Courtney Cappa: fashionista, Facebook addict, and lush.

Cappa and I met earlier this year at Boy Chris' bachelor party in Vegas, so I don't have as many embarrassing or touching stories about her, but what I do have? Oh, there be some gems. And the photos? Oh man, the photos... Neither one of us will ever be able to run for public office.

Cappa apparently tried to break some sort of binge drinking record in Vegas the first night and was heard telling Boy Chris, as she leaned on him for support, "Sorry if I drool on you a little." That right there pretty much sealed it for me: this broad is a keeper.

Cappa tried to take advantage of groomsman/nurse Jared's surefire hangover cures in Vegas: IV hydration bags after said night of drunken foolishness. There was some mishap with getting this plan to work, but the sight of this hungover girl in a Vegas hotel room trying to rally for night two was inspiring. Talk about dedication to the cause.

Cappa offers excellent wardrobe advice, which is always appreciated by Girl Chris, the fashion retard. From what to wear to a wedding to a weekend in New York, the girl is spot-on.

Cappa preached the Gospel of Dunkin Donuts coffee to me, which led me to give it a whirl and fall head over heels in love. So, yeah, thanks for getting me hooked on something I can't get locally.

Cappa's birthday falls on Christmas (duh) but rather than whine about it, she chooses to see the positive: she never has to work, it's festive, her family is gathered together...basically, the glass is half full. Of beer. Or Dunkin Donuts coffee.

Cappa got stuck with the bar tab Boy Chris and I rang up. As a joke, we got the bartender to transfer our tab to hers, and she "consented" by giving him a smile and a thumbs up. For some reason she still speaks to us.

Cappa, you bring the party with you wherever you go, and I am so grateful that my circle of friends now includes you. To quote you, "we are rad bitches." Truer words were never spoken. Enjoy your day!

Such an introvert.

Merry Christmas to All...

Have a happy holiday, Interweb!

No Excuse Really

So, I haven't really been on the ball with the whole holiday card thing. If you don't get one, don't take it as a slight or anything. I've been overwhelmed with saving the world...oh who am I kidding? I've been carousing, drinking, traveling and now I'm recovering from some mutant cold.
To make it up to you, I will share something that brings me great joy: a not-so-bloated Alec Baldwin and a joke which revolves around the word "balls." Don't say I am lacking in holiday spirit.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/4156/saturday-night-live-nprs-delicious-dish-schweddy-balls

Being Sick is for Crap 2: Electric Boogaloo

Hey, remember when I could breathe out of my nose? And talk for more than two sentences without coughing uncontrollably? Ah, those were good times.

This is total bullshit, people. The timing really couldn't be worse. Today is my dear mother's birthday (I would do a birthday tribute, but there's no way I could sum up my mom in one post. Plus, she doesn't read this.) and Dave is whipping up a feast unlike any other. As of now it's uncertain if I will be a.) awake and able to partake and b.) able to taste anything should I be able to rally.

Oh, and there's this thing called "Christmas" this week. Heard of it? The stores have been advertising it since August. Anyway, I had kick-ass plans in the Bay Area to see my dad and the fam, Elisabeth and HER family, and various other awesome friends who are in town. I have been looking forward to the gifts, eggnog (and Bushmills, oh the Bushmills!), wine, laughter, chubby baby hands, and time with loved ones. But I'm pretty sure no one really wants to be around me at the moment. It's like having Amy Winehouse over: I'm either drugged up and incoherent and passing out at random, OR I'm freaking out, looking for more drugs, anything to make me feel better. Just substiture "Alka Seltzer cold medicine" for "heroin" in my scenario, OK? Being in this state makes things like operating a car damn near impossible, what with the matter of needing to be not asleep.

Silver lining: my voice is starting to take on a sexy, smoky quality. So, I might start up a phone sex service for the next week to bring in some extra cash. We'll see how many people have a coughing fetish.

Being Sick is for Crap

Seriously.

For months co-workers have breathed on me and tried to get me sick and my mighty immune system has resisted. One flight without some Airborne and my ass is out for the count. I am seriously concerned that since I am getting worse rather than better with time (and rest and juice and soup and every other damn thing that is supposed to make it all better) that my Christmas plans will be derailed. So help me if I miss out on quality Evan or Juno time there will be HELL TO PAY.

My method of dealing with illness is relatively simple and foolproof. I generally just need some juice, drugs and rest. Maybe some movies. For the most part I just want to be left alone and sleep it off. But maybe if I shout my will to be breathe again from the rooftops (or, you know, this blog) good health will once again be mine.

If you'll excuse me now I'm going to cough into my pillow and watch Talladega Nights.

All Baby, All the Time

Lili and I are embarking on a little project together:

http://awesomebabyjuno.blogspot.com/

Unlike past "projects" of ours this is totally legal, our parents can know about it and it's unlikely either one of us will lose our underwear in the process. Woo!

Miss Juno clearly needs her own space and I feel a little weird throwing in updates and baby photos of her here mixed in with my talk of boozin' and sexin' up Tina Fey. So, check out the new blog if you are so inclined. However, as a proud Auntie, I will still post the occasional photo of the wee girl on this site because I adore her to pieces...in case that wasn't obvious.

Next Stop: Denny's Early Bird Special

Something about being sick (or just sickly) makes me feel haggard and tired and old. CKD is not digging this feeling, people. It's sapping my enjoyment of the season and if I am going to survive the schedule for next week it's clear I am going to need all the energy I can get.

Other things that are making me feel a little less than hot and vivacious?

-The look on Coffee Guy's face when I told him my age. (To my credit, I probably could have shaved a year or two off and gotten away with it, but went for the honest route.) You could tell he wanted to ask what it was like when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.

-The discussion I've been having with a girlfriend about eye creams, crows feet and the like. She is crazy-hot though so I am taking any advice she's got.

It's really just a matter of days before I start smelling like BenGay and eating dinner at 4:30 in the afternoon. Someone get me a housecoat and let's just call it good, OK? Hey you kids! Get off my lawn!

I've Got a Gun, Let's Go to a Broadway Show

Despite the heartbreaking absence of a Tina Fey sighting, New York was awesome. Absolutely amazing, really. There's really no way for me to talk about the trip in any sort of interesting meaningful way, so I'll just hit you with the highlights:

*Not sure how to express my newfound love for Dunkin' Donuts coffee, but let's just say it's a good thing it's totally acceptable for me to put that stuff in my mouth because OH MAN DO I LOVE DUNKIN' DONUTS COFFEE.

This one's for you, Cappa.

*In keeping with the theme of my life, "I am a Lonely Nerd" I was exceedingly excited about our trip to the New York Public Library. My purse was searched about 870 times while there, which is funny considering it's mostly closed stacks. What do the guards think I have in there? A painting off the wall? Also, are we concerned that the security at a library is more intense than the security at the airport? I spent a fair amount of time trying to find the exact location where Big ditches Carrie and think I succeeded.

*Walking across the Brooklyn Bridge made me feel like I was in a movie. That may be because I regaled Kevin with the entire plot of the Sex and the City movie and explained its significance to Miranda's storyline which I still maintain was total bullshit but whatever. No one asked me, right? But the bridge was awesome in spite of the wind. My Dunky's kept me warm.

*Have you been to the Met? If so, did your head almost spin off of your neck due to the sheer awesomeness of it all? I was actually a little dizzy by the time we reached the Egyptian temple, but that may have been a caffeine buzz from Dunky's.

*Rockefeller Center...yeah, no Tina, but still pretty awesome all-around.

*Taking the ferry to Staten Island is a good (read: free) way to see the Statue of Liberty, but without all of the waiting around and crowds and such. Also, if you leave the ferry terminal, cross the street and make a right, you will find a Dunkin' Donuts. Fun fact.

*Did you know that I can walk around an amazing city and relate everything to an episode of Sex and the City or Law & Order? Did I mention I'm still single?

*Speaking of Law & Order, I saw Anthony Anderson and did not point and shriek, "OHMYGODLAWANDORDERILOVEYOUWHERE'SJACKMCCOYAAAHHHH!" So, I might actually be growing up a bit. Who knew?

*For all of its touristy cheesiness, the Empire State Building was more than worth the wait in line. We lucked out with a gloriously clear evening, but CKD could have used some space heaters up there.

"Bring your green hat." What's up? Everything's cool...I'm NOT AFRAID OF HEIGHTS and kind of dying inside a little about being 86 stories up in the air. Nope, not me. Totally casual and cool. Really. I'm not clinging to another person as if my life depended on it.

Oh, and obviously the very best part ever of New York was quality time with one of my oldest and dearest friends. Duh. Thanks for a fantastic weekend, Kevin! You rock!

On the Move

Look who's crawling! Let the babyproofing of the house begin!

Juno says, "I'm outta here, bitches. I've got some friends to meet for cocktails down at Whistle Stop. Peace out."

"Hey guys...remember those months where you could set me down and I'd just chill there for awhile and you didn't have to worry about me moving? Yeah, those were good times. Kiss them goodbye."

Rockin' the accessories like her Mama taught her.

Where Did You Get $240? Sshhh...

I dedicate this post to Miz Literature.

Does anyone else remember the TV show The State from MTV? It was on in the mid-90's and was quite possibly some of the goofiest, funniest, most random shit ever. Sometimes the sketches were stupid, but oh man...when they got something right those mothers NAILED it.

Plus, I love Ken Marino:

Here is where I would make a joke about him dipping his balls in something, but, like, 3 people would get it and the rest of you would just think I'm a sick perv.

I keep hearing rumors of a movie involving the cast and I'm not really sure how that would work. It would be like a Saturday Night Live movie: what the hell would the plot be? It's a sketch comedy program - would they try to tie in recurring characters to make some sort of cohesive plot? Would it be any good? Who am I kidding? I'd pay full price to see it. The soundtrack would be great.

Not really sure where I'm going with this, other than wondering if anyone else out there knows this show. I find that I quote from many of the sketches a lot in daily life, regardless if I think the person I'm talking to has any clue what I'm saying. Anyone? Bueller?

Me, Me, Me, Me, ME

I saw this on another site, and figured I don't share NEARLY enough about myself, so here's more personal info, but in list form. Goddamn I love lists. Supposedly another blogger should "tag" you to do this, but I'm just going for it and tagging others. Look at me bucking convention and rules. I'm a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

Anyway, here goes...

Four jobs I've had:

1. Lunchlady/Deli Biatch at the Puget Sound SUB - HOLLA! No joke, I had a following because I make fantastic sandwiches. Also, I showed up to work drunk once. It was great.
2. Training Coordinator for a General Contractor - Probably the best job I ever had. There were Red Vines in the kitchen. Need I say more?
3. Satan's Assistant - Working for an investment firm nearly killed my soul, but I did lose 10 lbs from the stress alone. Sweet!
4. Professional Hippie - Sustainability Projects Coordinator

Four movies I can watch over and over - Bonus: I can also reenact these films for you.

1. Tommy Boy
2. Sixteen Candles
3. Billy Madison
4. Old School

Four places I have lived:

1. San Francisco, CA
2. Tacoma, WA
3. Stafford, VA
4. Chico, CA

Four TV shows I love:

1. 30 Rock - CKD+Tina Fey 4Eva!
2. Arrested Development - Oh, how I loves me some Bluth men.
3. Battlestar Galactica - So say we all.
4. The Daily Show - Don't tell Grandma, but I would totally convert for Jon Stewart.

Four places I've vacationed:

1. Vancouver, Canada
2. Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica
3. Honolulu, HI
4. NYC

Four of my favorite dishes:

1. Dave's Famous Mac n' Cheese
2. Grandma's Potato Salad
3. Mom's Lasagna
4. Sushi - all of it, all the time

Four sites I visit daily:

1. The Superficial
2. Jezebel
3. Facebook
4. Mighty Girl

Four places I would rather be right now:

1. At home, reading a book
2. At Banshee, drinking a beer
3. At a park, playing pirate ship with Evan
4. Kevin Bacon's house

Five people I am tagging - Yeah, I'm adding an extra spot. What are you gonna do about it?

1. Cece
2. Mo
3. Circlestar
4. Rico
5. Roadtripper/Bad Wolf

Like Emily Freakin' Post Up in Here

Seems like everywhere I turn there's an article with etiquette and helpful hints on navigating the workplace holiday party without being known as the office drunk/slut. I, sadly, work in Scroogeville, and will not even have an opportunity to eat too many cookies at an office party, let alone get wasted.

This was not always the case, my friends.

Oh yes, young CKD had herself a big girl job with a big girl company at the age of 21. (Did you know me when I was 21? If so, let me just issue a blanket apology if I ever threw up on or around you. That was my signature move back in the day.) This company was comprised primarily of older men, which meant my need to prove myself usually manifested itself in talking sports and/or drinking heavily. Guess which one is "problematic" at a work function?

Anyway, the point is that I have probably committed every faux pas ever mentioned in one of these "play it cool at the office party and save your drunken jackassery for a family gathering" articles. Except for the one about discussing religion and politics. I never bring that up when we could discuss how hot my office crush is. Much more appropriate.

Let me add a few other helpful tips for any of you out there who are unsure about walking the line between "good time" and "the HR lady needs to talk to you."

1.) If you are wearing a sorta tight dress and you are new to swing dancing and your dance partner really wants to try that move where he flips you around his back don't be shocked when your zipper explodes and your entire back FROM YOUR BRA TO YOUR UNDERWEAR is exposed. Looking suave while executing this move and landing on your feet are the least of your worries, Sweetie.
1a.) Wear underwear - good ones.

2.) The "open bar" is not a challenge. Do not approach it as "Oh, you think you've got enough booze for 200 people? We'll just see about that." This is especially good advice if neither you nor your date (Hi Brian!) are of legal drinking age, you damn moron. What are you trying to do? Get your employers busted for serving to a minor? Jesus.

3.) If you are there with a date, do not ditch him or her and then hook up with someone else at the party. (I have NEVER done this, but this happened to a friend of mine and oh dear God was that awkward.) Even if you are there solo, maybe don't hook up with anyone there. If you've made a love connection and it's deep and true and real (and not just the shots of Patron) you can call him or her tomorrow, keeping your private life out of sight of management. Also, don't hook up with management.

4.) Did we cover wearing underwear? OK, good. I really cannot stress that one enough.

5.) Don't scream "FREEBIRD" at the band or request "Rag Doll" repeatedly.

Hope this helps all of you use your professional gatherings as a way to network, teambuild and celebrate a year of hard work. Remember to wear underwear!

They're All Gonna Laugh at You

I am probably toeing the line between superfan and crazy freakshow here, but this week's episode of 30 Rock was pretty much the best thing I've ever seen. Ever. God bless Hulu. If you missed it on Thursday, you can watch it on http://www.hulu.com/ as many times as you want. Like, three times in one day while you eat cheese and crackers. Not that I would do that or anything... just, uh, making you aware of options. Yeah.

Liz goes to her high school reunion somewhat reluctantly, as she dreads facing up to the cool, pretty girls. Encouraged by Jack to show them that she is a successful, happy adult, she attends only to find out that the sense of humor she cultivated as a defense mechanism caused actual emotional trauma to everyone she encountered. Throw in the girl from Teen Witch, some 80's music and references to Carrie and you have the finest half hour on television this week.

After watching this I actually IM'd a friend of mine "i think i was kind of like liz lemon in high school." So, uh, sorry if I was a total bitch or whatever. I was in kind of a bad mood from 1987 until about 2002.

Her Genius May Not Be Fully Realized in This Lifetime

Message from Circlestar that has made my day - nay, I daresay my LIFE.

"You know you are THAT hungover when you Febreeze yourself."

Appropos of Nothing, I Have the Song "Whatever You Like" Stuck in My Head

Things I Intended To Do Last Night:

-Go for a run
-Take a shower
-Eat dinner
-Watch 30 Rock
-Go to bed early

Things I Did Last Night:

-Went for a run
-Took a shower
-Had some wine with Katie
-Went to a birthday party for a complete stranger
-Shotgunned a Natty Ice with some firemen
-Started a dance party

Sometimes it's best to abandon the expectations and roll with what happens.

Note to Self

Three cookies means satisfyingly full and content.

Four cookies means sick and bloated.

Oy.

I should probably apply this equation to drinks, come to think of it. Bring on the holiday season!

Pushed to the Limit

Tonight I will accompany my mom to Toys R Us.

Let me reiterate: I am going to Toys R Freaking Us during the holiday season. If I could just yank out a kidney and hand that to my mom instead, I would. I am googling "warning signs of a stroke" to see if I can fake one and be excused from this outing.

Yeah, yeah, it's for a good cause: we're picking up some things for a toy drive.

But so help me if some mothereffin' third grader in those godforsaken wheelie shoes knocks into me he best watch his ass because I WILL NOT HESITATE TO THROW DOWN, bitches.

Please, someone hold me.

UPDATE: I made it out of there alive, and we scored some awesome toys for kids who will surely enjoy and appreciate them. I managed to avoid any run-ins with children, but kept my keys in my hand at all times, much like I do when walking through a dark parking lot alone and I need to have a "weapon" on hand. So, who needs a babysitter?

Hello, Darkness My Old Friend

Is it bad that when I hear "The Sound of Silence" I immediately start giggling and think of Frank falling to the bottom of the pool after taking the tranquilizer dart in the neck?

Does this happen to anyone else? No? Oh, OK.

Surefire Cure for a Case of the Mondays

It's the Monday after a long holiday weekend. We're all feeling a little blue about being back at work. Perhaps even a bit stressed about hectic schedules and deadlines. Here are some pictures of pretty girls to perk you up. Don't say I never do anything nice for you.

Lili and Juno being freaking adorable.

Katie and CKD enjoying sake and cocktails while making friends with sushi chefs.

Happy Birthday Kim! aka "You BLEW It!"

Oh Kim, you didn't think a little thing like a Thanksgiving food coma would make me forget your birthday, did you? No, no, no, Sweets. You cannot escape the humiliation. I hope you go to the Olive Garden and a group of servers serenades you because it is actually your birthday.

Kim and I met as freshman at the Puge, and lived two rooms away from each other. She was really quiet and studious, and it took awhile for us to truly bond (I believe there was mac and cheese involved) and discover that beneath that shy exterior lurked an 80's music-lovin' dancing MACHINE. If you ever have the chance to dance with Kim, do it. She takes her booty shakin' seriously, but will crack you up.

Kim loves Billy Ocean. She was making a mix tape one night (yes, I said TAPE, shut up) and upon learning someone had some Billy Ocean she could use SQUEALED and jumped up like a damn cheerleader. It was awesome.

Kim is easily embarrassed. Pretty much any time we left the house she'd swear that was the last time she would be seen in public with any one of our group of friends. Our favorite way to torture her was to tell the waitstaff at a restaurant that it was her birthday, and have them surround her while singing. She acted all horrified but secretly loved the free dessert.

Kim is one of the most direct people you will ever meet, but in the best way possible. She will tell you if your ass looks fat in those pants, but you'll thank her for it. She gives stright-up advice because she has zero patience for any crap. Which is fantastic.

Kim will sit with you while you hash out every detail of every date, love-life drama, whatever and will ask questions and offer hilarious commentary of her own while throwing in quotes from Adam Sandler movies.

Kim lives too damn far away. OK, Portland isn't so bad, considering the years she was all the way out in Japan, but I would do a cartwheel if she and her husband Justin moved to California.

Kim was our designated driver/handler for much of college and I credit her with keeping our drunken, rowdy little crew safe. And for helping me find various articles of clothing from time to time.

Kimmer, I love you and miss you! This year we've been able to see each other far more than in past years and I hope we can keep that going in 2009.

Giving Thanks

A few people and things for which I am thankful:

-My parents. Yes, all 4 of you. Probably not obvious given all of my "you are headed for a crap nursing home" jokes but you know how I roll.

-Baby Evan walking up to me first thing in the morning, standing very close to me while saying, "I love your face." He may have said that to get some of my Skittles, but I'll take it.

-Old friends who I can call at 3am, drunk or sober, laughing or crying, who listen and laugh and cry along with me.

-New friends who have brought unexpected joy and perspective into my life.

-Arrested Development reruns on Hulu. Don't judge. And don't underestimate my love for the Bluth men. Even Buster.

-Red lipstick, black boots, orange daisies, and blue cheese.

I'd like to think I didn't take my life for granted, but I know I did. Decent health, a wondeful family and friends who bring such joy and laughter and perspective: I've been blessed. While I wouldn't say I was unappreciative or expected good things to fall into my lap, I suppose at a certain point I simply got used to it.

Then life took this bizarre turn and I reached out to my parents for help. Without asking many questions, they provided practical and emotional support when I needed it. "Sure, that's what parents are for!" you say? I feel the same way; but I know so many people who don't have that kind of unconditional love. As much as I may joke about the burden of having four parents, it is a gift.

Friends checked in frequently and offered love, a place to stay, and many drinks. Some were friends I'd lost touch with and had recently reconnected. Some were new friends who were probably wondering if I was a drama-magnet. Some were old friends in the midst of huge life changes, taking the time out from midnight feedings and newlywed bliss and their own heartbreak to check in and remind me that while I had been hurt, there was true love all around me.

This Thanksgiving looks different than last year and sometimes I get a little sad about that. Plans and promises were made and broken, which is always hard. But you know what? I have everything and everyone who matters to me and it's tough to feel bad when I realize that my cheering section stretches around the world. Hopefully you know that I am cheering for you, too.

Thank you.

A Cute Couple and a Drunk Redhead Walk Into a Bar...

Oh Interweb, you are in for a treat. CKD was in rare form this weekend. Katie's boyfriend Alan came up from Santa Barbara and it was like meeting an old friend. An old friend who buys many rounds of drinks. Enjoy the photographic evidence as we progress from "slightly buzzed" to "shitfaced and kinda retarded." Oh, did I say we? Because I meant me.

Hi Dad!

Katie, Alan and CKD still semi-sober and looking respectable en route to Bar #2.

The song "Kung Fu Fighting" came on at Banshee (Bar #3 for those of you keeping score at home) which kicked my booze-soaked brain into "idiot" and I started kicking my leg up in the air and pretending to karate chop everyone. People find this DELIGHTFUL in case you were wondering. Please note the lovely expression on my face. Please note Alan trying to restrain me.

Really, there are no words.

Uh, dude, watch that hand.

Spotlight On: Almost 21 Months (Cantilevering), Julie's Adventures in Oz, Raising JD, and The Heff's Blog

This week's theme is "Baby Blogs" for my spotlight special. It's no surprise that I love kids and I am so lucky that my amazing friends are breeding equally amazing shorties. Let's get to know them a little better, shall we?

Cantilevering (Almost 21 Months) is all about Sam, son of my friends Stephen and Cabrelle. Stephen and I met while working together when we were young single twentysomethings. It's funny to think my old drinking and dancing buddy is now a daddy, but looking back, Stephen had the makings of a good dad. Much like a toddler, my moods could swing from a-OK to freaking the hell out, so he's had some practice at the whole soothing a flipped out kid gig. Luckily for his parents, Sam seems to be a pretty chill little guy, and they clearly cherish every experience they get to share with him. I love all of the photos and the captions are priceless. If you like your baby blogs on the "funny" rather than "precious" side you'll dig this one.

Julie's Adventures in Oz comes to us from the Land Down Under! Julie and I go waaayyy back. How far back? Our moms have been friends since the first grade. So yeah. She and her husband Don relocated to Australia with their son Makoa when he was tiny, and it's great fun to read about their adventure. I miss them terribly (they lived in SF when Julie was pregnant and when Makoa was first born) but love the idea that I have a place to stay in Sydney. This has been an ideal way for Julie to keep friends and family at home updated on Makoa's milestones, as well as share some of the fun quirks of living abroad.

Raising JD is the long-awaited follow up to Rico's Dirt Sailor. Happily home from Iraq, Rico is back with his family: Attractive Wife Beth and little boy Joaquin (Jack). Young Jack is almost three, full of personality, and quite possibly the most mellow kid I've ever met. Now, we haven't spent a great deal of time together, but I have never seen him act up or even remotely cranky. Maybe he got the memo that his parents will send him to Gitmo if he dares step to them? Well-played, Alvari!

The Adventures of Moco and Bubba makes me laugh every time I read it. Yeah, the stories Cece tells about her daughter Memphis (Moco) and Grayson (Bubba) are funny. BUT for me, the entertainment value is in seeing a college friend being all...Mom-like. Don't get me wrong: she is an excellent mother and her work/home life balancing act is a thing to behold. Still, it kills me that someone who used to dance against a wall to Biggie in the Sigma Chi basement is taking the Brownie troop to the movies on Friday nights. If you'd like a study in contrats (ie what happens when the two kids spawned from the same womb are total opposites), this is the site for you.

The Heff's Blog follows the adventures of Mary, Brian, baby Francie...and Baby Number 2 on the way. Mary and I went to high school together and reconnected at our reunion. This is basically an online baby book...that will put ANY baby book to shame. Seriously. Each post features a ton of photos and a who's-who? in the Simonson/Heffernan family. I feel like I know every member of their family, as well as many friends. Which, if I ever meet them in person, is going to be a creepy interaction. "Oh, hi there. You've never met me, but I saw every picture of you last Halloween. What's up?" Mary is an amazing photographer and manages to capture great photos of both special occasions and every day events. Also, they have a bounce house, so I'm moving in with them. Surprise!

Hey, Remember When I Used to Write About More Than Food?

We are in the midst of a severe vending machine/snack industry crisis.

First of all, what brain trust came up with chocolate Skittles? I have finally come to terms with blue M&M's, but chocolate fucking Skittles? That shit is outside the paint.

OK, fine, Skittles. Make your damn disgusting new flavor. But why in the name of everything holy are they in our vending machine? WHY? What's wrong with the regular Skittles? And who made this genius call to switch it up? Oh, let me guess! The Shittles (not a typo there, I'm just 100% certain that chocolate Skittles are horrific) were discounted or something? Yeah, there's a reason: they taste like garbage. The thing is, EVERYONE knows these will be gross, so no one's buying them, thus damning us to an eternity of the chocolate Skittles taking up space in the vending machine for YEARS. Possibly DECADES.

In other news: I am crazy.

On Runs to the Border, and Being a Classy Lady

Would you think less of me if I told you I went to Taco Bell tonight in my sweatpants, Van Halen 1980 Invasion t-shirt and slippers? Oh, and a Chico State sweatshirt since it's a little chilly out? Would your opinion be any different if I told you that I hit up the drive-thru, so no one saw the slippers?

I also feel it bears mentioning that I did wear my pearl earrings on this outing. But even that may be canceled out by my decision to go commando and freestyle.

Hey! Guess Who Ate Two Full Lunches within One Hour of Each Other?

If you guessed CKD, you'd be correct. If you also guessed that I was the one shaming iron workers for only have one serving of food and making jokes about taking off my top in front of my mom, you're on a streak.

Let me explain.

Today was the "Topping Out" for my mom's project, which means the final steel beam was placed (or, as I shouted, "The steel is erected, people!") which is kind of a big deal. There was a big lunch for everyone on the project, my mom got up and gave a speech and damn it if she isn't the cutest thing ever in her hard hat! I always call this the "Topping Off" and my mom always corrects me so I called it the "Take Off Your Top" and apparently she felt the need to share that with a bunch of iron workers, who in the construction hierarchy are like the Great Big Badasses of the entire crew. They love me.

So after finishing my tri-tip, beans, salad and roll, I announced I was off to our office Thanksgiving lunch.

"You're going to eat MORE?" one guy asked.
"Uh, yeah. This was just my base layer. If you'll excuse me, I need to show my department how it's done."

After almost killing a student assistant who was taking too long at the mashed potato station I retired to my office to inhale more food in peace. Round two included turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and Katie just brought me pie so I didn't have to get my ass out of my chair. I'm not sweating yet, so I don't think I'm all that full, but yeah, we may need to schedule that angioplasty sooner than later. Or at least some sort of intervention.

CKD Phones It In

Here is a Christmas Survey stolen from Cece. It's really one of those emails you're supposed to forward, but we have adapted it because I know the Interweb is dying to know the answer to these questions.

And yes, this is a total cop-out for a "real" post but I'm working on a Friday so be a dear and deal with it, mmmk?

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? We stopped wrapping gifts years ago and make the recipient close his/her eyes and then hand off the gift. My dad's family insists on ruining the planet, so I wrap their gifts.

2. Real tree or Fake? We have a bunch of small fake trees all over the house that my mom decorates with her jabillion ornaments. Dad and Judy get a real tree which we pray Evan will not pull down on top of himself.

3. When do you put up the tree? Beginning of December-ish.

4. When do you take the tree down? New Years-ish

5. Do you like eggnog? Yes, and keep the Bushmills coming, please.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? Probably either one of my Cabbage Patch Dolls or my Barbie Dream House. Thanks, guilt-ridden divorced parents!

7. Hardest person to buy for? Mom

8. Easiest person to buy for? Evan

9. Do you have a nativity scene? Dad and Judy do, Mom and Dave are heathens.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Depends on how on the ball I am. Y'all may be getting drunk dialed this year.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? I can't think of a "bad" gift. I mean, even if something didn't fit or whatever, it's usually still a nice gift and it's the thought that counts.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? A Christmas Story and Elf

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Sometimes I find myself picking up stuff throughout the year, but usually not until after Thanksgiving

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Just the gift bags

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Cookies. Lots of 'em.

16. Lights on the tree? Yes

17. Favorite Christmas song? "Blue Christmas"

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Travel down to my dad's which doesn't really count, since it's not a big deal. Depends on the year, though.

19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer? Yes, there's Joey, Jordan, Donnie, Paul, Ringo, Sharona and Vixen

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Angel

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? One present on Christmas Eve, the rest the following morning

22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? How flipped out people (not my family per se) get over the perfect holiday or buying the perfect gift. Dude, just have some eggnog, eat a cookie and let's watch a movie. It's the together-time that counts.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color? That's a stupid question

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? My mom's upside down pear/cranberry/ginger cake. Yes, I know that's dessert. Don't look at me like that.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? For all the children of the world to hold hands and sing in harmony. Also, bigger boobs.

26. Who is most likely to respond to this? Your Mom

27. Who is least likely to respond to this? Uh, everyone

28. Favorite thing about Christmas? Hanging out with family and friends. Now that Evan is getting older, watching how much he loves the music and decorations and is still oblivious to the materialistic/commerical end of things.

Cure for the Common "Blahs"

Lately a general sense of malaise has overcome me and I haven't quite known how to get out of it. Even my excitement over the holidays hasn't been able to fully pull me out of it.

And then a cure came today, in the form of concert tickets.

For Willie Nelson AND Blondie*. I am beyond thrilled. There are a lot of fun things to look forward to between now and then (Willie is in January, Blondie in February), such as, oh, you know, the entire festive, wonderful holiday season...but having a little extra somethin' going on really lifted my spirits today. Woohoo!



*Two separate shows, but can you imagine if they toured together? Wow.

The Cabbage Patch Doll Incident

It's Crazy CKD Thursday kids. Today we move away from the food neuroses and into my generally pissy attitude that was in serious need of adjustment.

Enter Dave.

Let it be known that now, in 2008, neither one of us can recall the actual catalyst that set his plan into motion. I assume it's because I was being a little bitch and needed to be taught a lesson, but it could just be that he was bored that day.

When Dave first moved in with us he was working as our apartment complex manager, which was a pretty sweet gig. Excellent break on rent, and he was home during the day with me when school was out. The only drawback? He was home during the day with me when school was out. He grew up in a LOUD family of five boys and while generally comfortable around kids, wasn't really sure what to do with this overly sensitive, awkward, ridiculous little girl. So our days were spent alternately playing (swimming, playing basketball) and bickering (who drank the last of the milk? who ate the last cookie?) which must have been exhausting for the poor dude. Apparently no one gave him the memo that in addition to never getting involved in a land war in Asia, you don't engage in the craziness of a child.

One day I must have done something particularly annoying, like called my mom at work to report that Dave made me a sandwich with tomatoes, and since I was allergic he was clearly trying to kill me. From here on, the details are a bit fuzzy, but there was much stomping and pouting on my part. I went back to my room and there she was.

My Cabbage Patch Doll was hanging from my curtain rod, my bathrobe sash used as a noose. I started shrieking and Dave appeared behind me and quitely said, "She was depressed. You couldn't have known. Don't blame yourself."

Clearly I was pretty flipped out. I knew this was Dave's handiwork and more than anything I was annoyed he had touched my stuff. Only child issues? Yes, right here.

Neither one of us is really sure what this was supposed to accomplish, other than showcase Dave's sick sense of humor. And maybe pass some of that down to me, which he did. Well-played, Dave.

A Message from Juno

Oh, hi there! I'm Juno Constance. You may recognize me from such posts as "Area Baby Humiliated" and "Stay Classy San Diego." Today I just decided to sit up all on my own. You know, for the hell of it. And because I'm AWESOME. I've been rolling over for ages (like, way earlier than other babies) and practice yoga regularly, so why not switch it up a bit and try this "sitting" thing. Well, I have to get going. Have a great day and enjoy this picture of me being the sweetest kid ever.

Spotlight On: Karma vs Dogma, Mighty Girl and Oh Happy Day

You might wonder what's up with my reading list over there on the right side of the page. Much like me, it's a wondrous mix of wit, humor, charm and style. No? Not really? OK. Maybe this is a cop-out to devote posts to other sites but whatever. Mama's tired kids. Cut her some slack.

I've decided to start giving the blogs their due notice and attention in case you haven't bothered to check them out yourselves. Lazy bastards.

My Karma Ran Over Your Dogma is co-written by Roadtripper8 and Bad Wolf. I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting Bad Wolf in person, but hope we will get together soon and share a pint and make each other LOL in person. Roadtripper and I? Well, we have a fascinating "How do you two know each other?" story. Basically, it involves why I moved back to California in June. Want more details? Buy the book. Anyway, you might be wondering how on Earth could I be on speaking terms - let alone shout-out terms - with this woman. Well, that's our business, but the short answer is she's a damn cool broad and a pretty sweet writer to boot. One of the things I love best is how both writers don't take themselves or their site too seriously. This is not to say they half-ass it, but they aren't afraid to out themselves as geeks or make goofy pop culture references. I rarely read a post without laughing, so do yourself a favor and check it out if you dig funny.

Mighty Girl is the work of San Francisco's Maggie Mason. I stumbled upon her blog while reading Dooce and was instantly taken with her style and the tone of her writing. Speaking of style, her other sites - Mighty Goods, Mighty Haus and Mighty Junior - are amazing if you ever need to buy anything for any person for any occasion (or no occasion at all). Seriously. Love shopping? You'll enjoy the wide variety of goods offered without worrying about closing times or lugging bags all over a mall. Hate shopping? You'll love that you can narrow searches by occasion, recipient and/or price to narrow it down so you can get in and out. Bonus: Many of the options offered are actually affordable for people in real life (read: those of us who are freaking out as we see our 401k's take a hit) and available at both brick and mortar stores as well as online. One of her most recent posts about 10 Little Luxuries Under $10 led me to my bitchin' new red lipstick, so hey...I'm a fan for life.

Oh Happy Day is also written by a San Francisco-dweller by the name of Jordan Ferney. Her about me reads, "I like good weather and pretty things." I can get on board with that. A former Anthropolgie employee, her style is not trendy, but brings out the best in vintage, classic design but not in a costume-y way. Her site provides great inspiration for interesting pieces for home, wardobe, and entertaining. Fluffy stuff, yes, but don't we need that once in awhile? It also inspires me to put down the Van Halen 1980 Invasion shirt and strive for Pretty Lady status.

So there you have it. Three of the sites I check out on a regular basis and think highly enough of them to share with you. Nothing but the best for you, Interweb.

Making Dad Proud: The Playground Version

You know what will really make your father beam with pride? Use the the play structure to demonstrate your pole dancing skills while singing "Tainted Love."

This is also a good way to get the attention of the DILFs at the park, if that's something you need to do.

I'll Have the Venti None of Your Damn Business

While in line at Starbucks* I was looking at an adorable little girl in a rad lime green stroller. Apparently my admiration for her smiley cuteness and awesome red hair (oh, how I wish my hair had retained that perfect redness into adulthood!) did not go unnoticed by the guy behind me.

Scruffy Older Dude: *Gestures toward little girl* "So, where's yours?"

Me: "Um, what? Oh! Yeah, no... I, uh...I don't have one of those." (Really? "One of those?" Like the child is an iPod?)

Scruffy: "Why not?"

Me: *Laughing nervously* "Oh, you know... Um, I don't know. Haven't, uh, gotten around to it." (Because having a kid is much like getting the oil changed in my car: it's time, just haven't "gotten to it" yet.)

Scruffy: "Oh, that's OK. Wait until you're older. You'll be more patient and treat them better."

Me: *Nods head vigorously* "Yeah. Totally." (Yes, make sure you take advice from this guy. He seems really on the ball.)

Mercifully, it was at this point that I was able to place my order and fade into the crowd of people waiting for drinks. I started to wonder when my parenthood status became an acceptable topic of conversation with a stranger. The weather is unseasonably warm - can't we just talk about that? Or the fact that pumpkin lattes are delicious? Anything?

I never thought I'd welcome someone trying to talk to me about accepting Jesus Christ as my personal savior.

*Yes, I went to Starbucks. Not a lot of walking distance options in Pacifica. Back off.

Making Dad Proud

Actual conversation between my dad and me this morning:

Me: "I like your jeans."
Dad: "Thanks. They're new. I started buying 559's. I got a few in different washes."
Me: "Isn't that the style you always get?"
Dad: "No, I used to get 569's - "
Me: "BWAHAHAHAHA! YOU SAID '69!'"
Dad *Hangs his head and sighs heavily*

For those of you playing the home game, I had only been at the house for 12 hours at this point. I was asleep for 8 of them.

We're hoping Evan turns out normal.

And the Yogurt Hits Keep on Comin'...

There has been a request for another Crazy Little CKD Loses Her Mind Over Something Stupid and this one is also food-related. In fact, it's another story of Dave messing with my yogurt.

When the yogurt supply got low, I would go into a bit of a panic. See, I had some issues with food and control and being crazy. You know how it goes.

Anyway, I knew I was down to one yogurt and went about my little OCD morning routine. I reached for my snack, calling out to my mom and Dave that it was time for a trip to the store before my head exploded or whatever.

I open up the yogurt and my not-fully-awake-brain doesn't quite grasp what is in the container at first. Because it sure as hell isn't yogurt.

It's a KOOSH BALL. Remember those? Well, I had one and apparently someone who shall remain Dave thought it would be funny to scoop out my yogurt, replace it with a Koosh Ball (so I wouldn't be able to tell at first that the container was empty) AND a post-it note with a picture of a clown on it. Why a clown? Because they are fucking horrifying, that's why.

For those of you keeping score at home, Dave is 30-ish at this point in his life, and I am but a wee, high-strung girl of maybe 9 or 10. And HE is the one pulling this crap. I think you know how the story goes: much shrieking, stomping, yelling for my mother to DO SOMETHING before Dave relented and revealed he had simply scooped out the yogurt and it was ready to eat. But of course I freaked out again because it wasn't IN THE PROPER CONTAINER and I was convinced he had tampered with it.

Next week...Cabbage Patch dolls are caught in the crossfire in a battle of wills.

Why She's My Best Friend Part Deux

In addition to her excellent feedback on my writing, Lili has produced a child destined to follow in her fashionista footsteps:



Argyle legwarmers courtesy of Auntie Francine and Uncle Dave (aka Juno's honorary Tutu and Papa). I love that this is her outfit for yoga. Yes, I am wearing the same Old Navy sweats from 2002 but whatever. Juno can be stylish enough for the two of us. Her mommy will see to it.

Why She's My Best Friend

Me: need a tagline for my blog. any ideas?

Lili: I got it - "you can't accuse me of cockblocking"

Me: I love you.

Lili: or... "your ass looks fat in those pants"

This is What Hundreds of Thousands of Dollars Worth of Private School Educations Gets You

After Kevin the Crazy Plumber left today:

Dave: "Does it smell in here? Like chemicals or something?"
Me: "Yeah, Kevin probably used something to fix the sink. Like CAULK. Hey, it smells like CAULK in here!"
Dave *giggling*: "Huh huh I smell some CAULK! Has someone been LAYING PIPE?"
Me *trying not to fall over laughing* "Wow, decades of excellent educations and all we can do is yell 'CAULK' back and forth."

*Calls Mom at work to give her an update*

Me: "Kevin just left. That guy is a trip."
Mom: "Yeah, he is."
Me: "Anyway, it smells like CAULK..." *laughs uncontrollably*
Mom: "You're retarded. What's for dinner?"

The End.

Does Your Mother Know?

I fancy myself a badass, but we all know I'm a Nice Girl. Proof? I'm rated PG, bitches.

Wait, wouldn't "bitches" kick me up into PG-13 territory? One can only dream.

Lessons Learned

Maybe next time I go out for drinks and dinner with my boss and our construction management teams (ie my mom and her co-workers) I won't say or do any of the following:

-ask any of the guys if he has his period (or call him a "pussy") if he sticks to beer

-pretend to fellate an empty tequila bottle for photos

-describe my plan to enchant the bouncer with my wit and charm, but tell the intern she may need to switch to plan B: "Bewitch Him with Your Ta-Tas"

-tell the waitress to keep my whiskey sours "light on the sweet-n-sour"

-do the "Peter Fawzi" dance: pantomime licking my hand and then spanking an imaginary ass at the dinner table

So with me off to an excellent start a few of us headed to the Mother Hips show so I could wish the birthday boy well. The show was fun but it has become increasingly obvious that I cannot handle roughly 98% of my fellow humans. I understand you're trying to drunkenly maneuver your way through the crowd, but please don't put your sweaty hand on me.

Then the cab driver and I had a cool talk about sustainability and bringing some small changes into your home. He's going to start replacing his regular lightbulbs with CFL's. Good to know I can function after five whiskey sours and two beers. Made me feel like Big Tom Callahan.

Because Apparently I Live in an Episode of 30 Rock

From Dave this morning: "Whatever...all white people look the same to me."

The Great Yogurt Incident of 1988

Last week I wrote about my bizarre OCD tendencies and generally uptight nature as a child. My dear friend and fellow blogger Cece requested the Yogurt Story as another illustration of how nutburgers I was. Cheaper than therapy, right?

This story is really proof Dave's patience and good influence in my life, although at the time I thought it was child abuse.

As mentioned last week, I was partial to (read: completely obsessed with) one specific type of yogurt: Dannon Fruit-at-the-Bottom Mixed Berry. No other flavor (say an individual berry, as opposed to the mixed) was acceptable. As you can imagine, grocery shopping and menu planning was an absolute joy for my parents what with me being so easy-going. Really, they should get some sort of prize for not putting me up for adoption when I was 9.

I'm not entirely sure how it came about, but I think at some point Dave ate one of "my" yogurts and when I pitched a fit, he suggested I eat another one, or find some other snack. So what did I do? Retire to my room and pout. Sure, of course.

Fast forward to a week or so later, the yogurt supply has been replenished, along with other flavors since my parents are not freaks and eat more than two things. I head to the refigerator for the yogurt portion of my breakfast, grab one, open the lid, and begin stirring. Stirring was essential because the fruit was at the bottom (hence the name) and I needed an even distribution of berries. (Has the OCD thing become obvious enough at this point? Because it really should.)

As I'm stirring I notice that the color of what should be the berries is NOT RIGHT and begin freaking out, thinking it's a bad batch or spoiled or something gross. But then I smell it and it's...apple. This is where tiny CKD loses her mind and her tone of voice could only be described as HYSTERICAL AND CURRENTLY DYING.

"THIS IS NOT MY YOGURT!!!! WHEEEERRREEEE IS MYYYYY YOGUUUUURT???" I begin wailing as Dave laughs hysterically on the couch. It's apparent to me that he is evil and must be thrown out immediately. Never mind that this is the man who taught me to swim and watches "Pee-Wee's Playhouse" with me every Saturday. I am despondent and want him arrested.

My mom is trying to get ready for work and I burst into the bathroom where she is drying her hair. I remember this clearly because she didn't even need to turn off the hair dryer to hear me shrieking. She finally turns it off, tells me to calm down, and comes into the living room to ask Dave what happened. He explains the innocent prank: he thought it would be funny to switch the yogurts out. Why? Oh, because his stepdaughter is clearly out of her mind and needs to snap out of it. Also, he grew up in a family of five boys; pranks were part of daily life. No big deal. My explanation? Because he is Satan and clearly was trying to give me a heart attack or get me to starve to death.

My mom tells me to grab another yogurt and continue getting ready for school. But can I let it go? Oh no no no no NO! I proceed to sulk, and open EVERY SINGLE YOGURT AND INSPECT THEM to make sure this won't happen again. In retrospect, I think my mom probably stayed late at work just to avoid us.

At some point I started eating other foods and laughing and even playing my own pranks. But at that moment? High drama.

Goals

If there's one thing I regret about my teens, it's the complete absence of a wild-and-crazy-out-of-control-biker-gang-shows-up-there's-a-car-in-the-pool-type of party. I'm talking about a cross between the party scenes in Sixteen Candles and Weird Science, people, but for reals. But now that I'm living at home maybe I can convince my parents to head out of town and realize this dream.

I'm not really sure what part of all of this is the most concerning: that I've spent some time today reflecting on my adolescent regrets, or that I am living with my parents.

Oh Shut Up, Election Day Isn't Over Yet

So, um, yeah...we have a new president and I don't feel like crying. Well, I do, but not tears of pain and frustration. How freaking cool is this? No, all of our problems will not be solved on January 21, 2009, but people are more hopeful now than they have been in a long, long time and that is a fantastic start.

We did not go out for our traditional pie this evening. After voting we were all hungry for a real meal and opted for our favorite sushi joint - which also serves up some of the best cheesecake ever. We walked in and said we were ready to order "sushi for change" which then sparked several "for change" jokes. "I'll have the plum wine for change." "The pumpkin cheesecake for change sounds yummy!"

And then we went from silly to flat-out idiotic.

Mom: "I hate the word 'poo.'"
Me: "Me too. I prefer 'poop.'"
*Pause and look at Dave*
Dave: "I'm on the fence."

*While coloring on the tablecloth with crayons*
Dave: "I love coloring!"

So, while our nation's leadership is changing my family is still as ridiculous as ever. Comforting.

Stay Classy, San Diego: The Photos

Here's some evidence of Juno's supreme beauty and sweet nature, as well as our last-minute Halloween costumes.

Oddly enough, the shot of Daddy in a half-shirt and skirt did not make it over to me...Hmmm....

Sadly, this beautiful girl fell asleep before the official Halloween festivities got going, but we had a fashion show on the bed while she was still perky. Please note her bright eyes, smile and my ass in the background.

Prom Queen CKD, Goddess/MILF Lili and Kitty Kat Katie before hitting the party across the street.

(Alternate captions for this photo: Juno Has Two Mommies and Shnoowich)

Hey, guess who is too old to stay up all night and then look semi-human the next day? Mommy had the good sense to come home and go to sleep. Auntie? Not so much. I hope Juno doesn't associate me with the smell of vodka and exhaustion. Everyone knows my signature scent is whiskey and regret.

After Today You Won't Have to Read About the Election, OK?

So, I received a few emails from friends asking about the "Election Day Pie Tradition" in our family, and was kind of shocked to discover so many of you thought we threw pies at each other or something. I can kind of see how you might think Dave would be into that, but my mom? No. Francine "Please Use a Coaster" Carreira would not be down with pie throwing within a five mile radius of herself or her home.

The family pie tradition dates back to when I was a kid living in Fremont, and our polling place* was around the corner from a Marie Callender's, which was the pie place of choice in our family. Oh man, I could write an entire post about getting pies from there with my grandpa, and how he NEVER forgot to bring back the pie tin so we could save $.10 or whatever. That guy loved a good bargain...

Oh, sorry, back to the pie. Anyway, the local Marie Callender's gave out "free slice of pie" coupons at our polling place: you just had to present your little voting receipt or whatever. Pretty sweet deal: participate in the democratic process, eat some food. Very American, really. And very true to my family's nature. If there's anything that defines us, it's eating and then feeling superior to others.

*Did I mention the polling place in question was a FIRE STATION? With real live FIREFIGHTERS? Voting has never felt like a chore to this girl.

On Rocking the Vote and Such

Who has two thumbs and loves Election Day? *Points to Self* THIS GIRL!

I am giddy like a kid on Christmas Eve. Seriously. Still single!

I encourage all of you to establish some sort of fun Election Day tradition with friends or family if you don't have one already. Ours involves pie. You are welcome to adopt that one as it is fun and delicious. Kind of like Democracy.

Stay Classy, San Diego

You know that comforting feeling of being around family and lifelong friends where all pretenses of politeness and such are abandoned, but in a good way? That's what it's like for me to be around Lili and her family. We have our own relationship shorthand and can communicate in facial expressions, movie quotes and sound effects. It's great.

We were pretty lame about photos, but once they get settled in the new place Lili will send some my way and I will share with you, Interweb. You're welcome.

In the meantime, a quick rundown of my trip:

-Minutes after my arrival before someone who shall remain me uttered the phrase "cock block": Two, maybe three.

-Minutes after my arrival before someone who shall remain Lili said the word "mount," then paused, looked at me and said, "Huh huh, I said 'mount'" before finishing her sentence: Three, maybe four.

-Times I decided to show my appreciation for something by declaring my desire to hump it: Oh Jesus, a bunch. But it was for stuff like a carne asada taco and their kick-ass clawfoot bathtub so it was totally justified. Sure, judge me. But you didn't eat those tacos, nor did you see the tub.

-Times I had to resist the urge to eat Juno's fingers: Lost count at 87,000.

-Weeks until I see these lovely peeps again: Six-ish.

Oh, and if a guy dressed as a cowboy offers you a swig from his flask, maybe get more details on what is in it BEFORE accepting his gracious offer. Luckily it wasn't a roofie colada, but 100 proof vodka? Maybe not the best call of my life.

I Guess We Can Call It Progress?

I dedicate this post to my mom and Dave.

When I find myself posting about being giggly and immature, it kind of blows me away that the grown-up CKD is way more fun than her childhood counterpart.

People tend to be surprised that I describe myself as "shy" and am dead serious about that. "But you love parties! And blab all about yourself on the Interweb!" Yes, true. But getting to a point where I can make eye contact with strangers or not flip out when everything isn't just so was a long journey. I spent much of 1981 with my head buried in my mom's neck, and wasn't much better by the time school rolled around. One-on-one I was fine. Talking in class? Uh, no thanks. My mom kindly refers to me as a quiet, serious child. I think the technical term is "high-maintenance and annoying as all shit." Let me look that up and get back to you.

I was intense and OCD about a lot of things. Take laundry, for example. Once I was able to reach the knobs on the washer and dryer, the family laundry became one of my chores around the house. I was meticulous about sorting, of course, but folding was where my crazy really came out.

I wore a uniform to school, which meant my weekly laundry was 5 white blouses, 5 pairs of white knee socks, a few pairs of blue PE shorts, a God awful plaid jumper and of course my undies. Weekend clothes included maybe some Guess acid-wash jeans and a some dork-ass t-shirt my parents bought me from a museum.

So, you'd think I'd just hang up the blouses and jumper, maybe fold the underwear and pair up the socks (or just throw them all in a drawer) and be done in 20 seconds, right? Oh no. No no no no no! Little CKD had a process. And if you interfered in this process she would freak the fuck out BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, THAT LITTLE GIRL WAS NUTS.

First, there was the folding of underwear. I would fold my white little girl version of granny panties first (this was before thongs could be found in the toddler department, so underwear was only slightly smaller than my gym shorts), and then the colors. The undies were always arranged in piles of three. I don't remember the reason behind that, but I do know that if my mom touched it I'd hiss or cry or react in some other totally normal way.

Next up? Socks, of course. White knee socks should be easy, correct? Just throw two together...oh sweet Jesus NO! Have you learned nothing yet? You know how you socks take on a certain shape based on which foot you have worn it? You guessed it: I would pair up the socks based on that to ensure my toes' maximum comfort.

I haven't even begun to describe the ritual Hanging of the Blouses, nor the care and love that went into folding my parents' clothes.

Exhausted yet? Try raising this lunatic. Try reasoning with a nine year-old that the world will not end if her socks don't match, or the grocery store is out of her favorite yogurt. Oh, did I mention I only ate ONE SPECIFIC BRAND AND FLAVOR OF YOGURT (Dannon mixed berry fruit-at-the-bottom, it had a blue lid, in case you were wondering) and if you dared suggest I try another one I'd all but crumple up on the floor and cry?

Man, I hope someone who wants to date me reads this.

Anyway, I guess my extremely long-winded point here is that yes, I am a ridiculous idiot who giggles over a bag of peanuts and loudly exclaims, "HEY! Who wants a NUTSACK?" But would you really want to hang out with Crazy Laundry Freakshow Girl? Yeah, me neither.

Can't Take Me Anywhere

Things that have made me laugh as of late:

-the word "erecting" in a campus-wide email about the new construction

-the phrase "swinging steel" in the same email

-quoting select lines from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and Office Space at work

-doing Pee-Wee's "Tequila" dance in the elevator

-singing along to "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch on the way to work

-Last weekend I accompanied my parents to buy a new faucet for the laundry room sink and totally held my shit together when the saleswoman suggested we get a "caulk hole cover" for the replacement. Say that phrase out loud. Now do it without laughing. I did, and then demanded my parents take me to ice cream for a treat. True story.

In other news, my current look could be described as Liz Lemon in Season 2 of 30 Rock. So I've got that going for me.

Area Baby Humiliated

Lili and Juno made it home to San Diego and sent off some pictures from their trip. I miss them terribly and cannot wait to see them again on Thursday.

"You have a baby. In a bar."

Yes, we took the baby to my favorite pub for lunch. But in our defense, we really wanted to day drink. Here's our girl showing a healthy enthusiasm for Guinness. Don't judge us - it's not like we were shotgunning Natty Light. I wasn't sure if we could bring her in - since it is a bar - but they serve food, so I figured it was worth a shot. At the very least, it would be her first time getting kicked out of a bar, right? I pointed at Juno and asked the bartender if she was allowed in. He answered, "The baby? [No, her 30 year-old mother, you idiot.] Sure, as long as she's not drinking." My reply was, "Oh God, no. She's driving." Nothing from him. Not even a smile. Come on, that was a little funny! I was quick with the reply! Man, tough room.

And here begins the Baby Humiliation for Our Amusement photo shoot. You know she's thinking, "Laugh it up now, bitches. I'll be choosing your nursing homes!"

Please note Mommy laughing hysterically as Juno plots her revenge against us. Uh, Kid, your mom went through 30 hours of labor WITH NO DRUGS. She will dress you as she pleases. Deal.

If this entire outfit was available in my size I would wear it. In public. I am 100% serious.

This is a girl after my heart: pink, green and orange in one outfit? That's what I'm talkin' about! Every time I see her in legwarmers I start singing "She's a Maniac" from Flashdance

Gonna Fly Now

So, I've fallen off the running wagon. It's been...God, I don't know, maybe two weeks since I've gone? I'd love to tell you the reason is some sort of injury, or that I am now spending that time mentoring an orphan, but you know me better than that. It's been cold in the mornings and my flannel sheets are too comfy to pass up. Yes, THAT is the reason: I don't like being cold. But I also don't like being fat or out-of-shape so it's time to make a choice.

My plan is to confess, and get back into my routine. I wish it were as easy as a few Hail Marys or something, but I know I will feel better, sleep better and look better when I get back on track.
Maybe if someone could meet me at the end of the run with a boombox - or a live band! yes! - playing the theme from Rocky these morning jaunts would be much more enjoyable. I would be accountable to someone else, and the guilt of standing up someone holding a boombox (or an entire band) would be too much to bear. So, if you could arrange that, Interweb, I'd appreciate it. Thanks!

Oh No, She's Going to Talk About Babies Again

Well, Elisabeth and Juno left after their whirlwind Chico adventure. All I can say is that kid could be used for procreation propaganda or something. Quite possibly the sweetest, smiliest, cutest, chubbiest...sigh...most wonderful baby girl. I adore her and cannot wait to take her to tea and baseball games. Just have to make sure she doesn't grow up a Padres fan. My God. Can you even imagine?

Aside from Juno's sheer awesomeness, I was incredibly impressed by her mom's complete ease with the whole motherhood thing. She's so calm and relaxed and has a great sense of humor about it all. Not that I had any doubts she would be a fabulous mom, but seeing it in action was pretty nuts. I miss both of them terribly already and can't wait to see them at their place next week.

My parents, as predicted, pretty much freaked out over both girls. They are huge Elisabeth fans and clearly are smitten with the wee one. My mom isn't really a baby person but I had to pry Juno out of her hands and she insisted on rocking her in the same chair she used with me back in the day. I seriously need to get on the stick (so to speak) with scoring them a grandkid.

Pictures from our adventure in Chico to come...

Just, You Know...Some Stuff

-Co-sleeper thingy has been procured for Miss Juno's sleeping comfort. Who is the best Auntie? Say it! SAY MY NAME!

-Menu preparations for Eating Fest 2008, Starring CKD and Lili, are underway as well. Just need to find some stretchy pants...

-I love Halloween and this time of year, but could really do without all the scary movies on TV all the time. Really, this delicate flower cannot handle it. Please make it stop. Thanks.

-My recent moods could only be described as "freakshow" if one needed to classify them. PMS+Visitor Anticpation=Weepy, Easily Excited Disaster. Lili is long accustomed to my crazy but poor Juno has no idea what's in store. I mean, babies in general can reduce me to tears so let's throw in some hormonal imbalance and see what happens!

-Who has two thumbs and is having a morning of beauty and pampering tomorrow? *Points to self* THIS girl!

-OH! Is it just me or is Robert Downey Jr getting hotter by the minute? Iron Man indeed.

Really! Seriously!

Sorry about the negative "WTF?" type post below. I don't know where I get off thinking people want my opinion on things. Oh wait - I HAVE A BLOG and therefore think everyone wants to know everything I'm thinking. All the time. Like right now? I wish I had more Red Vines.

Anyway, to offset my negativity I'd like to take a moment to be all fairies and sunshine about the world.

We had a Campus Sustainability Day, which I know sounds like Hippies from Granola Mountain Earth Pals* but was actually a really interesting event here. I was impressed because Grandma CKD is always convinced that these darn kids today don't care about the Earth or the future. They're too busy listening to that 50 Cent character and playing with their hula hoops. Wrong.

The tables included information on everything from reducing waste on campus and at home to degree and certificate programs in environmental and sustainable fields. I spent much of my day fielding questions about our use of solar power, current construction and LEED certification, and what our campus is doing to ensure that the growth is respecting the wildlife refuge. Wait, did you know our campus is a wildlife refuge? Now you do!

I was impressed by how interested and excited the students were about the improvements being made to their campus. And thank God for Brian and Chris, who answered the more technical questions and kept me from looking like an idiot. Green Team!**


*Get that reference? Why aren't we having babies together?
**Get that one? Why aren't we having beers together?

Really? Seriously?

Yes, I'm stealing stuff from Roadtripper again. Back down, I'm still looking for a place for Juno to sleep and contemplating buying a stroller. Someone needs to stop me.

http://jezebel.com/5065573/palin-dudes-proud-to-be-voting-for-the-hot-chick

As someone with many intelligent, educated, well-informed and all-around awesome male friends and relatives (Hi Guys!), I am offended. The men interviewed here are a pretty sad representation of their gender. It's like a bad beer commercial where a bunch of shlumpy, horny suburban dads are distracted by the Hot Girl. Because men are that simple and dumb.

This article freaks me out on so many levels, but I'll try to articulate this as well as I can.

1.) "Proud to be voting for the hot chick." Sarah Palin is a pretty woman, I'm not questioning that for one moment. We're all human and crushes will be had on various public figures. (Ultra-nerdy aside: I once volunteered at a PBS pledge drive and developed a massive crush on one of the show's hosts. I mean, he's all into public television! How adorable is that?) But to vote for her based solely on her looks? Wow, way to concern yourself with the issues. I mean, world peace has spontaneously broken out, the economy is fabulous and our education system is the envy of the free world. Oh wait.

2.) "Who can't trust a mother?" The world is full of mothers who aren't wholesome, nurturing, kindly or whatever qualities these men are associating with motherhood. And isn't Hillary Clinton a mother? Or does that not count because she only has one kid, while Sarah Palin has cranked out five (over-population be damned!)? (And if you think one kid is "easy" I invite you to ask my mom how easy her life has been since January 29, 1978.) Rush Limbaugh will tell you I'm just bitter over my empty womb, but I am appalled that a woman who has kids is somehow MORE capable or trustworthy than a childless one. I'm not saying she is any LESS so, to be clear, but I am not seeing the connection.

3.) "Palin is our kind of woman." Really? Then invite her out for a beer, don't put her in charge of the Senate. Personally, I want someone a hell of a lot smarter than I am - and definitely smarter than the men quoted here - running the nation. And you know what guys? I'm pretty sure she's not REALLY all that into NASCAR, nor does she find your beer gut sexy. She wasn't actually winking at you.

I'd love to hear from the men out there. Offended by this? Laughing it off? Do you support Palin's campaign and feel she is qualified? Why or why not?

To Do

We have company coming in soon and I am giddy with anticipation. And to be honest, nervous and spazzy. I consider myself to be a decent hostess, but instead of the usual concerns like "Have favorite wine and snacks on hand" or "Make sure fancy guest towels are clean and ready" I have started freaking out over all of the UNCOVERED ELECTRICAL OUTLETS around the house. What if she starts crawling on Friday, licks her finger and shoves it in a socket? And where will she sleep? A crib? Mm, not something our family just has lying around at the moment. And what if that's not just allergies and my mom has the bubonic plague and will pass it on to an innocent baby? I don't care how well-stocked the fridge is, getting someone's infant sick gets you on the shit list really fast. We're not doing our usual bar tour of downtown, so I need to make sure this place has all the necessary provisions. Trader Joe's, here I come.

So, my list looks more like this:

-Construct some sort of comfortable, safe place for the baby to sleep
-Make sure every surface has been fully sanitized so as not to compromise baby's immune system.
-Maybe we should all wear those asbestos suits so as not to get any germs on her? Yes, buy those suits.
-Threaten all pets with bodily harm if they so much as consider coughing up a hairball near the kid.
-Have wine on hand for Mommy-Auntie happy hour. And cheese. And bread, oh God, don't forget the bread. And olives...
-Seriously, has everyone washed their hands? NO TOUCHING THE BABY UNTIL YOU HAVE WASHED YOUR HANDS!

Don't ask me why I'm being such a freakshow over this. It's not like I am uncomfortable around babies. I have tons of babysitting experience and about 500 cousins. Oh, and there's the matter of helping out with Evan when he was an infant. I know their needs are very basic at this age, and if we need to make a run to Target or Raley's for supplies, we will. Serenity Now!

Can You Feel the Excitement?

I was having a pretty average Monday morning...spreadsheets, meetings, blah blah. Then I got an email from my number one homegirl in San Diego saying she wants to come up and visit this weekend. Would that be OK? Um, HELL YES!

So this Friday our home will host the lovely Lili and fabulous Miss Juno for one night before they head down to the Bay Area. Now we just have to get Juno a fake ID to get into the bars. Anyone? A little help here?

Chico best get ready for these ladies to hit the scene. See you in a few days!

Bears Repeating

OK, Kids...TODAY is the last day to register to vote in California. Registering is pretty easy. It involves knowing things like your name, address, and date of birth. I'm pretty sure you can handle it.

Aside from CHOOSING THE NEXT LEADER OF THIS GREAT NATION there are some important measures on the ballot. Voting is fun: you get a sticker. And if you're really lucky, your polling place will be in a firehouse or something and you can get a peek at some talent while performing your civic duty. Just like the founding fathers intended.

All Philosophical and Stuff

This weekend was pretty mellow until Katie rolled back into town. Pedicures on a Sunday afternoon? Yes! Very relaxing and wholesome and oh no...there's a liquor store next to the nail place.

A mimosa (mixed in the car with screw-top champagne in a Pepsi cup) and pretty toenails later, we are rolling our eyes at the loud, high-maintenance crew that come in after us. "Ooooh! The water is TOO HOT. That red is TOO RED." Oh, shut up before I punch you in the face. Yes, I feel girly and sassy after being pampered but I WILL THROW DOWN, BITCH, IF YOU DON'T WIPE THAT FACE OFF YOUR HEAD.

We needed to offset the estrogen fest with some boozing and sporting...and fried food of course. Pretty much my perfect day until I bit into a fried mozarella stick and almost burnt off half my face when grease squirted out. Then, I totally blew Katie's mind at the End Zone by pointing out that we were watching TWO Tampa Bay teams play simultaneously. And I convinced her to have a kid in a few years. You're welcome, Alan.

Since I Can't Buy the World a Coke...

I'll send a round of shout-outs to some pretty fabulous MVP's in my life. Obviously, each of you is fantastic, but we have some standouts.

Boy Chris and Katie (and by extension, the whole Pasadena crew): I am still in awe of their hospitality and general fabulousness. These two are amazing hosts (not to mention great cooks) and should open a bed and breakfast or something. You guys all rock and the pleas to move down have made me feel real special-like.

Elisabeth: As usual, my girl continues to be hilarious and down-to-earth. When I mentioned that I would be happy to go to her usual mommy group events when I visit her, she replied, "No, it'll be good to talk about something other than a baby carrier or if my kid is crawling. I need to talk to someone about normal stuff." Also, she has already told Daddy Nick that he will be watching Miss Juno while Mommy and Auntie get their drink on. Her acupuncture practice is getting off the ground and she and Nick are raising the most smiley, lovely baby girl. (And here I get all excited about my multi-tasking skills when I manage to apply eye shadow while talking on the phone.)

Enrique: aka Mc Phresh Rico...or just Rico. Guess who is home from Iraq? Booya! A dear friend of mine is a Navy reservist and has spent the last year away from his attractive wife and their darling son. Read all about his adventures in country here http://narmya.blogspot.com/ if you haven't checked it out. Well-written and an interesting perspective on the life of a soldier. I am so happy he is home and safe, and greatly admire they way he and his wife continued to work as a team during their time apart. Also, Rico can quote Sixteen Candles backwards and forwards so he's just generally a rad guy.

Mom: How many moms take their kid out for a good hangover lunch? Not many, but mine sure stepped up. As good as the food sounded, my poor system could only handle a Coke and some salad, but I appreciated her offer of ribs and cornbread. Then we went and bought a lamp for her and a cocktail dress for me. Of course. Mom, you're aces.

Wherein I Try to be All Non-Partisan but Then Kinda Blow It At the End

Did you know Monday, October 20 is the last day to register to vote in California? Well, it is. So, if you have moved, need to change parties, changed your name, whatever...get to it! The sites below allow you to look up your county's local offices, check your registration status, and get information on your polling place. Not so difficult, right?

For more info:
http://www.cadem.org/site/c.jrLZK2PyHmF/b.947937/

And in the interest of being fair and balanced:
http://www.cagop.org/

What's that, Fonzie? You're too cool for one of the major parties? I feel ya. Still, you need to register and the forms allow you to choose how you would like to identify yourself.

Because you've been so nice and patient, here's something fun to get the weekend started:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/10/16/snls-crazy-mccain-rally-l_n_135463.html