Is This Thing On?

Movin' on Up

2009-03-27T09:47:00.000-07:00

To a deeeeluxe new site: http://isthisthingonckd.wordpress.com/

New look, same great snarky attitude! Be sure to update your Google reader and come visit soon!

Grace in Small Things: Super Friends Edition

2009-03-26T07:48:00.000-07:00

Not that my friendships are a "small thing" but you know...

1.) The comfort and easy laughter of talks, emails and IM's with old friends nearly makes me spit coffee all over myself, but oh is it worth it. Might be a good thing we all don't live near each other; the amount of ditching work to watch movies and day drink would be astounding.

2.) The appearance of new friends (I say "new" but mean "within the last year") who have enriched my life and brought unexpected joy and perspective into my world. I can only hope I do a fraction of the same for each of them.

3.) The friends I have yet-to-actually-meet who exist somewhere in the bloggy world and push me to continue writing, however silly, and put it out there. That surprising support sustains me just when I think "Who cares?" and want to chuck it all.

4.) The expansion of my circle due to marriages and babies thrills me like none other, because if there's one thing I like it's a good party. And what better reason to celebrate than true love and shmoopy wee ones? Also, an open bar helps and pregnant chicks are great designated drivers.

5.) The constant reminders each of my friends give me to think about the small, beautiful things in life in the middle of chaos keep me sane and comforted when I feel overwhelmed or alone. Thank you.

This and That

2009-03-25T07:22:00.000-07:00

I have no idea what is up, but I am EXHAUSTED. Not sure if I'm fighting off a cold or something, but my body appears to be shutting down, and my brain isn't far behind. Here's some updates, clarifications and Bluth family hilarity for you on a windy Wednesday:

-Um, just wanted to make it clear that at the time of my little incident on I-80, I WAS NOT DRINKING. The boozy part of the weekend took place post-accident, while I was safely relaxing at my cousin's home. And driving was done by a sober individual. Thanks, Dad!

-My truck sustained some fairly concerning damage and will survive, but the repairs are not limited to the tires. The tire shop dude said it appeared my rear tire suffered "catastrophic failure" which I think would be an awesome band name. Anyway, I will be spending some time trying to get CHP to give me a report detailing what they saw (I think the words "semi-hysterical white girl" and "huge-ass pieces of tire all over the damn place" will appear in the official report) and my only hope is that I will get to meet Ponch. And that the tire company will have to pay to fix the damage because it wasn't my fault the tire just up and exploded.

-This: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIT5sFhw4sU&fmt=18 has been making me laugh uncontrollably for the last day or so. If you were not a fan of Arrested Development it probably won't make you laugh quite as hard, but oh man...so good. Full disclosure: I sometimes dance like Lindsay and GOB when I am drunk. STEVE HOLT!

-One side of my hair is growing faster than the other. That's weird, right?

-Lately I've been spending way too much time contemplating the differences and my preferences between Tombstone and Wyatt Earp. I think I like Kurt Russell better as Earp, but really love that Mark Harmon is in the Kevin Costner version. And I am torn between the two Doc Hollidays...Val Kilmer and Dennis Quaid are both pretty hot and Quaid lost all that weight to make the tuberculosis seem real. See my dilemma? There's room in my heart for both films, not to mention room in pants for all the hotties of each movie (hey-o!) so I suppose there's no reason to choose.

-I am wearing these little weird sorta-stocking things that only cover my toes. They keep my feet from sliding in my shoes and protect my pedi (Holla!) but when I walk my feet make this weird noise. It sounds like I'm tooting with each step WHICH I ASSURE YOU I AM NOT. Might need to abandon them. (The stockings, not my feet.)

-My goal tonight is to stay awake to watch the remaining episodes of Battlestar Galactica on Hulu, so please do not tell me what happens in the finale, OK? Thanks.

I Almost Died in a Car Crash, Got Shitfaced with My Family and Saw Some Pigs. How Was Your Weekend?

2009-03-23T20:02:00.000-07:00

Alternate title: The Longest Post EVER So Get Yourself a Drink and Settle in for a Detailed Account of How I Spent My Weekend, Y'all.

People, I am DONE with driving long distances and Big Scary Freeways for awhile, at least. Yes, I spent most of my childhood and adolescence on the Dumbarton Bridge and am nonplussed by more than two lanes of traffic but holy mother of swear words and cars and drive-thrus...I am staying put for the forseeable future.

WARNING: If you are one of my dads or I ever lived in your uterus, you might want to skip the first part of Friday because you will lose your shit. No offense guys, but you're kinda wimpy when it comes to the thought of me almost dying. Just move along to the parts where I am drunk because you have all seen that.

Friday: Day started out on a pretty normal note. Got some last minute laundry done, packed my bag for my crazy-busy weekend and headed out of Chico in my recently tuned-up truck. My old, but lovingly cared for, well-maintained (OK, yes, it does need a good washing but other than that, just shut up, alright?) truck. The first half of the drive goes by with zero incident and I'm bopping along and decide to pull off of I-80 in Fairfield for a coffee. As I make my way over to the right lane I hear a huge BANG, the truck pulls sharply to the left and the next few moments are a blur as I spin out and almost hit the wall before managing to get the car pointed in the right direction over on the shoulder. I call 911 because I can see chunks of my tire in the road and know that the CHP office is at the next exit. (Seriously, I do this drive all the damn time and know every bathroom, every Peet's coffee location, whatever.) Another car pulls over to check on me as I'm half hyperventilating-recounting the story of OHMYGODIJUSTSPUNOUTWHATTHEFUCK? to the dispatcher. The people in the other car inform me my driver's side rear tire appears to be shredded and I relay this to the dispatcher, who is asking me all kinds of questions that I am having trouble answering (like, my name) but I manage to give her my location. In the meantime, one of the three Good Samaritans seems really put off by the fact that I am devoting more attention to the 911 dispatch than to him, and mistakes my reluctance to fully exit the vehicle as a fear that he will rob me, rather than a fear of being mowed down by one of the hundreds of cars flying past us. He proceeds to inform me that I clearly hate black people, FSP shows up and a highway patrol officer rolls up to check on me too. I try to explain to the dude that I am not racist, just freaking the fuck out and maybe I have forgotten my manners but I AM HAVING A BIT OF A CRISIS HERE and would appreciate if he could wait a moment while I get shit done and then I will be happy to chat with him and inspect the tire while practically standing in the freeway. The FSP dude manages to get the tire situation under control while the officers block traffic and run out onto the freeway to retrieve tire chunks. If you had to slow down on I-80 last Friday afternoon, SORRY! AAA shows up too, makes sure things are cool and I'm sent on my way. Although the car is deemed totally safe to drive, I am still a little flipped out but manage to get myself to my dad's house in one piece.

Upon arrival in Pacifica, I give the fam a quick rundown of the situation and my uncle offers to drive me to my dinner party in the city. I politely decline, so he offers to make me a drink instead. Sold!

I love that my uncle and I speak the same language: Bushmills.

The dinner with B&G, D&K and E was fabulous as always. B looked at me and said, "It feels right having you at my table" and I gotta say, it feels right to me too. Talking about leaving my heart in San Francisco.

D&K, adorable as ever.

The gourmets: G cooked up a five-star meal and K spoiled us with homemade tiramisu.

Saturday: Up at dawn to road trip to Fresno (aka The 'No) for my Great-Aunt Peggy's memorial service. She passed away last month and is terribly missed by our family. A beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the lady liked to have fun and her children and grandchildren put on a wonderful party that honored her memory. I always forget that this side of the family is the Unapologetic Day Drinking side, and realized I need to visit more. We saw a ton of relatives we hadn't seen in years and I discovered that the penchant for sick jokes and a "That's What She Said!" sense of humor is genetic.

Timothy Evan and Evan William partying it up.

The evening is a bit of a blur... I know I went on a liquor run with my dad, got back to the house, downed the rest of my wine and got my uncle to hook his favorite niece up with some cocktails. Our cousins Terri and Mark are pig farmers and have a gorgeous property with lots of cute baby pigs. I felt a little guilty enjoying my bacon and cilantro wrapped shrimp, but got over it pretty fast because sweet baby Jesus, that stuff is SO GOOD. I explained that as a city girl, I prefer not to make friends with my meals and they agreed they would only serve me food I hadn't met. Seems fair. Ridiculous and fairly graphic explanations of inseminating pigs for breeding ensued and at one point I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Eventually the crowd dispersed and I passed out in my cousin's room.

Bubba shows off his monkey bollock (blanket) and monkey jammers.

Mark, please do not explain to him how baby pigs are made, nor where the bacon came from.

Thumbs up all-around for Terri, the coolest cousin!

Sunday: Woke up with the slightest headache, but after tallying the drinks (3 beers, 2 glasses of wine and a shit ton of whiskey and soda) I was not in horrid shape. After some breakfast, coffee and a shower I was handed a mimosa. I use the term "mimosa" lightly because those are supposed to have orange juice in them, which I guess mine did technically, but really, who are we kidding? Again with the day drinking and damn if my head didn't feel absolutely marvelous instantly. Dad and Judy came by with Evan and apparenly Bubba was up half the night with a fever.

Some snippets of conversation:

Terri: "My girlfriends and I used to have a pool going when we'd go out and whoever got asked to dance by the ugliest guy got the money."

Judy: "I want in on that. You're talking my game! Also, lesbians love me. We start talking softball and next thing I know..."

Me: "If the rules were the oldest dude asking you to dance I'd beat all of you hands down. Old guys love me. And I want extra credit if they are wearing chains!"

Dad: "Will someone please take the champagne away from them?"

Have you ever been drunk in the car with your drunk stepmom, sober dad and three year-old brother? Because here's what you can expect: making up songs that heavily feature the word "poop" with the three year-old, begging your dad to pull over for Jack-in-the-Box because, "Dude, we are drunk hungry! I need food noooooowwwww" and passing out next to the aforementioned toddler. A toddler who will try to wake you by throwing toys at your head and playing a pretend trumpet. Interweb, that is the closest I've ever come to hitting a child. I wonder when he'll realize "Sissy is tired" means "Sissy is hammered" and "Sissy needs to sleep" means "Sissy passed out and will likely attack if woken?" Hopefully not for another year or so. I woke from my car nap covered in my own drool and still feeling buzzed. My dad is exceptionally proud of me.

Show of hands: who is concerned that Evan was able to take this photo because I was too drunk/lazy/oblivious to wrestle my camera away from a person who weighs 30 lbs?

Monday: After another fitful, feverish night with Evan the entire family trekked to Kaiser for an appointment with Dr. Ami, the best pediatrician since my childhood doctor. The kid has some weird ass preschool disease like foot and mouth, only the sores are only in his mouth. I wasn't so much disgusted as concerned, but still - ew!

While putting the little diseased kid down for his nap and saying goodbye he warmed my cold, dead heart with this little gem:

"I'm so glad you're my potty talk friend!"

For reals. I cannot begin to express how completely awesome this kid is. You just need to experience him to fully understand the wacky charm that is Bubba.

The drive home was uneventful, but I stopped every five minutes to check my tires and hyperventilate and imagine that the car was going to careen off the road. Good times. After spending roughly three hours in the car Friday-Monday I am so grateful my daily commute is 40 minutes round trip. CKD needs a break, yo.

So, um, there you go. My weekend in approximately 7,000 words, give or take. If you'll excuse me now I need to collapse and maybe pour myself a drink. Haven't had one of those in about 18 hours and we wouldn't want my liver tissue to regenerate, now would we?

Fancy Ladies

2009-03-20T09:08:00.000-07:00

My mom and I went out for dinner together, and like most of our interactions, I was left wondering if any other moms and daughters talk about the same things we do. Sure, we chat about work, friends, our family...but then sometimes the conversation takes a turn for the bizarro.

Me: "Hey, you have a zit next to your mouth just like I do!"
Mom: "I know. I think it's from getting this [gestures to upper lip area] waxed."
Me: "Me too! It's sucks. You have to make the choice: zit or ladystache."
Mom: "I'll take the zit."

A few minutes later...

Me: "Not really loving this new development where I need to deal with a ladystache. I was explaining to a friend that it's not dark, but my hair is so long. I look like Hulk Hogan."
Mom: *Laughs* "Yeah, I don't have that problem. I have more of a 'Vote for Pedro' five o'clock shadow, wouldn't you say?"
Me: *Almost chokes from laughing* "Sure, we can call it that."

And, SCENE!

Hey You Kids! Get Off My Lawn!

2009-03-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

In reality, I guess I should ask them to quit skateboarding in front of my house and making out in my driveway, but you get the picture.

Upon arriving home tonight, I saw that some boards were blocking my access to my driveway. As in, I could not park my truck where I park it every fucking day. My teenage neighbor was sitting between his family's driveway and mine with some girl, as I gave him the "Hey, would you be a dear and move your shit outta my way so I can park? Thanks bunches" look. He looked at me, then the boards (which are really pathetic and in no way constitute some sort of homemade bitchin' skate park and if this girl is impressed by his "stunts" then she deserves to be with the dumbshit), and continued to sit there and be as useless as tits on a frog. Let me repeat this: HE SAT THERE AND DID NOTHING TO REMOVE THE OBJECT AND BE A HALFWAY DECENT HUMAN BEING WITH ANY REGARD FOR OTHER PEOPLE WHO NEED TO EXIST AROUND HIM. I knew that if I rolled down my window and asked him to do this, I would not be able to contain my ire, so I just parked on the street.

As I got out of my car, Tony Hawk offered a lame, "Sorry about that" and continued the strenuous activiy of sitting on his skinny ass while his little girlfriend breathed through her mouth. "It's cool. You're busy." I answered and marched myself into the house quickly while I was able to resist the urge to hurl the boards at their heads.

So, how was your day?

Sacramento? More like SacramentNO!

2009-03-19T09:21:00.000-07:00

I admit it: I wasn't super-psyched to attend a conference in Sacramento, especially since it fell during my second favorite holiday: St. Patrick's Day. (My favorite holiday? Halloween. Yes, if given the choice, I will take candy over booze. Fun fact.) I mean, I'm sure Sacramento is lovely and it is the state capital and all that...but I have no ties, no real affinity for the city. Plus, what if the "Irish pubs" were lame? Turns out my fears were unfounded and it was an excellent mix of business and fun.

The conference itself was pretty great, and it does please me that our school values me enough to send me to events where I can learn and grow and take ownership of this role. I am still exhausted from the drive, hotel sleeping (which is never ever restful for me), networking, and bouncing between sessions in order to hear from a variety of speakers. So, you get a recap in bullet form, because grenade form* just seems so intense.

-I overpacked, as is my MO whenever I leave my house for more than 20 minutes. My swimsuit never saw the light of day, as it wasn't really warm enough for the pool. And like a well-intentioned moron, I packed running/workout gear, which also never found its way out of my bag. Silly CKD.

-Had some extra time to burn Monday evening and thought I'd run some errands. Apparently when I asked the Concierge for directions to the nearest Target, she heard that as "Please send me to the unemployment office" because when I followed the directions and landed at the address she gave me, that's exactly where I ended up. I'm not sure if I was just road-weary, hungry, or am just a flat-out bitch, but my frustration quickly turned to a white-hot rage and I found myself screaming "I'M GONNA CHOKE THAT BITCH!" alone in my car as I made my way back to the hotel. I'm sure the other drivers on the road didn't find that sketchy in the least.

-Free wi-fi my ass, Hyatt Regency. I refused to pay $10 per day for intermittend Interweb access, which also sent me into an irrational fit of "OH THE INJUSTICE THRUST UPON ME! WHY GOD? WHY MEEEEEE?" Then I remembered the hotel had a bar downstairs.

-In recent months I've become more confident about going out alone, and quickly found that a hotel bar is an awesome place to make friends. Seriously. There was nothing sketchy, just a lot of business travelers and I made friends with a fellow conference attendee. I turned an IT consultant from Texas on to Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, and he bought me one to show his gratitude. The bartender and I are best friends and he makes an awesome Kir Royale.

-One of the keynote speakers at the conference was super hot, super smart and super funny. Also: married. Dumb bitch. I think it's a real testament to my geekiness that I go into a full-tilt swoon over these environmental/academic types. I developed about four crushes per minute while chatting with presenters and fellow attendees and discovering shared interests in breathing and being able to drink water. Wow. Just reading that sentence makes me think it's time to take a long hard look at my standards.

-While out on the town for St. Patrick's Day a (presumably) drunk girl stopped to tell me I have great legs and that she's jealous of them. I thanked her, a little embarrassed (note to self: time to learn to accept compliments gracefully), but was pleased. My companion concurred with her assessment, so there's that.

-Every bar was an out of control amateur night disaster, so back to the hotel bar for me where my new BFF made me the best whiskey sour of my life. People, if you are ever in the Sac, hit up Dawson's at the Hyatt Regency and tell them the Wildcat sent you. You won't be sorry.

*Credit Whiskeymarie

Happy Birthday Jen! aka "Who's the boss? Tony Danza? No, I think it's Jennifer"

2009-03-18T17:44:00.000-07:00

March 14 was my dear friend Jen's birthday and I hope she will forgive me for the tardiness of this post. Jen and I met at the Puge; she and Kim lived two doors down from me in Regester Hall (Virgin Vault - HOLLA!) and we quickly discovered a shared affinity for Goonies, Adam Sandler and speaking in movie quotes. We have a winner! Also, her product collection and morning routine rivals mine in the "Holy crap, how much stuff do you have?" department. My only complaint about Jen is that she lives so far away now. What's it gonna take for you guys to move to California? I'll do the truffle shuffle...

Jen is an adorable white girl from So Cal who also happens to have mad rap skillz. She and Kim do an excellent Dr. Dre/Snoop Dogg for "Nothing but a G Thang" that will send you into fits of uncontrollable laughter and awe.

Jen's nickname, The Boss, is a shortened version of her maiden name, but also an excellent way to sum up her dynamic, take-charge attitude. This woman chaired committees for, like, 90% of the activities of our campus and every single one was a raging success.

Jen is never embarrassed by my ridiculous shenanigans and just encourages me to be a jackass by laughing when I dance like Elaine. So, blame her.

Jen's dance skillz would make Kevin Bacon proud. She can do any routine from Footloose, including the part where Ren dances around by himself and yanks off his sweatshirt. Just thinking about it is mkaing me crack up right now.

Jen is an awesome karaoke partner. Our version of "Sweet Caroline" brought down the house at orientation. Word.

Jen has a Rain Man-like memory for song lyrics and movie lines. Throw out some obscure line from Friends or pretty much any movie ever and the woman will respond in kind.

Jen, for all of her straightforward, "I'm-not-gonna-pump-sunshine-up-your-butt"-ness is always, always the first to offer love and support and encouragement in a time of need.

Jen is not afraid of confrontation or saying the Thing Maybe You Don't Really Want to Say but Probably Should. Being terrified of every offending anyone ever when I met her, I learned from her example that it's possible to stand up for yourself and the world will not fall apart. There are times even now that I channel that energy and it has served me well.

Oh Hen, I miss you and wish we lived in the same building again so we could get some fro-yo from Smell. If you ever slow down for two seconds I'll come visit soon since I have yet to meet your baby Tessie. Plus, Jeff and I clearly need to discuss the subtle nuances of the genius that is Happy Gilmore. You are so money, and you don't even know it!

Remember That Time Blogspot Was All Effed Up and I Almost Had a Stroke?

2009-03-18T16:53:00.001-07:00

That wasn't fun. I am insanely behind in posting (birthday! my Sacramento adventure!) and am just glad this technical issue has been resolved because OH MAN DO NOT CUT ME OFF FROM ALL THREE OF MY ADORING FANS.

Stay tuned kids. More to come.*

*That's what she said.

Step Inside, Walk This Way

2009-03-12T20:30:00.000-07:00

Guess who is going to see Def Leppard, Poison and Cheap Trick in concert, bitches? To say that I am excited is a supreme understatement. I am pretty much freaking out and cannot wait until September. I am going with some of my favorite concert buddies and am going to throw out a quick plea to S to come down from Seattle for this momentous event. Come on, Man! Remember how much fun Billy Idol was? I bet this will provide as many, if not MORE, laughs.

So, I think I need to start watching Rock of Love or something to get my outfit just so. Anyone know where I can get a leather fringe halter top? Cappa has already suggested leopard-print leggings and maybe a neck tat. At this point anything is possible. Seems like I should also have some daddy issues and smeared lipstick and/or eyeliner. Thank goodness I have time to prep.

And here I thought knowing all the words to "Unskinny Bop" would never help me later in life.

For Future Reference

2009-03-12T07:48:00.000-07:00

Here are some things you may not want to be doing while the Accreditation Committee is touring your department:

1.) Singing along to .38 Special

2.) Shaking and kicking the vending machine when your snack get stuck

3.) Eating Pop-Tarts while getting crumbs all over your top

4.) Dancing in your chair while "I Love the Nightlife" is on the radio

5.) Spilling water in your lap

6.) Inspecting your head for gray hairs

7.) Daydreaming about Mark Harmon

The more you know...

Hypochondria: Not Just for Crazy Old Ladies

2009-03-11T07:44:00.000-07:00

You know that person who gets a headache and immediately Googles "brain tumor" only to have the headache subside by the time she has convinced herself that she totally has all the symptoms?

Hi there.

My lips have been really dry and chapped and peeling and even bleeding a little (I know - eww) and I have no idea what prompted this. And nothing seems to work. The only thing I can think of is that I am dehydrated, but stepping up the water intake (thanks for the suggestion Habesha Child - I have been hydrating) hasn't really made a difference one way or the other. On the bright side, my lips are a little darker and pinker so I don't need to apply gloss or anything. Um...Yay?

I feel like a tool for looking up this kind of stuff on WebMD, but what if I am ignoring a common symptom of malaria or Avian bone syndrome or the Ebola virus? I have an English degree and I watch House so clearly I should be diagnosing this stuff with info cribbed from Wikipedia.

When I hear about women who don't realize they are pregnant until they are giving birth into a toilet, I am absolutely shocked someone could be so disconnected from her body because the slightest change and BLAMMO! my ass is consulting websites and frantically emailing doctor friends for free advice and reassurance.

For now, I am placing a bit of the blame on one of my parents who shall remain Dave because he is the king of the Worst Case Scenario. Allergic reaction to some funky peanut sauce? It's probably West Nile. Bump on my neck? Unborn twin tumor baby. No wonder I'm a mess.

UPDATE: Guess what is all better? Yeah. Turns out constant application of Kiehl's and Aquaphor AND drinking a shit-ton of water (shout out Habesha Child!) did work. Oh, and some patience.

Frakin' A

2009-03-10T07:46:00.000-07:00

File this one under: "Nerd Porn" or something.

So, I stumbled upon this: http://io9.com/5165920/the-men-who-make-battlestar-galactica-feminist while checking out Jezebel and was like, "Great, let's read all about the feminist theories involved in Battlestar Galactica!" I was all kinds of detached intellectual about the whole thing, pushed my glasses up on my nose and nodded and shook my head as I agreed and disagreed with the author. Really, it was all very scholarly and I was feeling so smug for being able to apply various literary theories to a television show.

And then I saw this:

And I freaked the fuck out. As my friend Judi said, "My gods that man can wear a towel." Indeed. Once I got my lady parts to chill out I finished the article, but I don't really remember much of it. Don't look at me like that.

This Springing Forward Stuff Has Messed Up My Sleep

2009-03-09T10:57:00.000-07:00

So, I apologize in advance for this potentially disjointed, rambling post.

1.) It seems my weekends have two speeds: GOGOGOALLTHETIMEDON'TSTOP or sit on my ass with no plans. But this weekend? I think CKD found this thing called "balance" and oh man. It's sweet, y'all. The perfect mix of lazy mornings sitting around drinking coffee and socializing on the town. Perfect, really.

2.) Life in a college town just isn't for me. Yes, there are things to love (cheap drinks and such) but my patience with the general population is wearing thin. I mean, did that guy really think that wooing me with the promise of "a lot of fun" on his buddy's pull-out sofa ("I'm not from here, dude") was going to work on a grown woman? Because it wasn't. If you want a classy broad like me, you're going to have to do better than that. Get a futon. The best part of this exchange was how the guy went from all kind of charming (if you find smarmy to be charming, that is) to downright pissed off when I turned down his gracious offer, like I had wasted ten minutes of his time and now he was going to have to find some other girl and start all over again. The humanity. People are a fucking mystery to me.

2a.) When describing this scene to a friend she asked if the guy was cute. Yes, he was, but I explained he also kind of had "date rape face" and she didn't know what that was. Am I the only one who has ever heard of this? Basically, this guy could play Frat Dick #2 in any variety of college movies. If he had approached anyone I knew, I would cockblock because he just had THAT LOOK. I'm crazy, right? OK...

3.) My lips are really super chapped and it's annoying. I cannot figure out why this is, and my usual remedies (Kiehl's balm and Aquaphor) are not working. WTF?

4.) I finally caught this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoGYx35ypus from Louis CK and realized I am a total asshole. Sure, I try to enjoy the moment and be zen about shit, but I've done a fair amount of bitching this last week over minor inconveniences and it's such a waste of energy. Trying to breathe in more. Feel free to remind me.

Pop Quiz, Hot Shot

2009-03-05T08:18:00.001-08:00

Guess which of these things I DID NOT do over the course of the last week:

-Told a bouncer "You're fucking joking, right?" when asked for my ID at a 21 and over establishment.

-Honestly forgot it was Lent and ordered a Pepsi when going through the Taco Bell drive-thru.

-Got exceedingly, embarrassingly excited when some high school boy gave me the "Hey Now!" nod and up-and-down.

-Felt superior to those around me when I knew Freddy Washington's nickname was "Boom Boom."

-Wished my nickname was "Boom Boom."

-Pointed and laughed at Katie when she stumbled in public.

-Drank too much sake.

-Acted my goddamn age.

What to Wear Wednesday: Purse Splurge

2009-03-04T10:11:00.000-08:00

This week Kristle has a question about one of my very favorite things: purses.

"I need some help with a decision. I need a new purse and I love this one:

You think it is too much? I usually buy $50 purses. It will be my daily purse. I have seen it in stores so it is a good size and black works with all."

Let me start off here by saying that my first thought when I saw a picture of this lovely bag was, "I want to take this behind a middle school and get it pregnant." Holy mother of accessories! We have a winner!

It's such a stereotype of the Typical Woman, isn't it? We're just mad for bags and shoes and we'll take out a second mortgage to finance these addictions, right? No. Most of us are reasonable and will not sell organs in the name of a pretty bag.

That said, I say go for it. You are planning to get this bag on eBay for a relative steal. You have seen it in person, liked it, and knew it was your style. You don't own upwards of 10 bags (unlike someone who shall remain CKD) and would like to upgrade your accessory wardrobe. You plan to use it daily, which would break down the cost-per-use to mere pennies, really.

I know that purchasing a purse for roughly double what you would normally pay sounds insane. You have a functional day-to-day bag, there's not an urgent "need" for this, and who the hell is spluring on things like this NOW? THE ECONOMY IS IN SHAMBLES! QUICK, PUT THE MONEY UNDER THE MATTRESS!!!! But hear me out: if you have budgeted for such a purchase, and are maybe willing to sacrifice some other fun things that may pop up for a bit, there's no harm really. This is generally a good way to roll, regardless of the economic climate or threat of layoffs. If this will not make-or-break your ability to eat or pay bills you shouldn't feel awful. Another way to make sure you won't regret a big impulse buy is to sleep on it; if you are still thinking about the item the next day, you know it wasn't temporary insanity. If waiting isn't an option, keep the tags, keep the receipt and know the return policy BEFORE you hand over your money.

And I can totally borrow this bag when I come visit right?

UPDATE: Kristle bid on the purse and won it! All is happy in Accessory Land. PS: I had a lot of sake tonight.

Babies, Black Clothes, Bubba and Blondie

2009-03-02T16:15:00.000-08:00

It usually takes me a week or so to get back into the swing of Chico life after a great weekend in the Bay Area. Add quality time with Lili and Juno to the mix and my post-weekend blues increase exponentially.

I was originally going to do this as a Grace in Small Things post, but there's nothing small about the amount of grace my friends and family bring to my life. So, you get some pictures instead.

Cocktail hour at The Club (say this like Thurston Howell for maximum effect). CKD threw on her pashmina since she seemed to pack only black clothing and looked like Morticia Fucking Addams. Seriously, it can't be good when your father, who owns 836 plaid button down shirts, stages a little intervention about the amount of black in your wardrobe.

Juno being hilarious. We should have cut her off after the second drink, but she was all, "DUDE! I can handle it! I'm on vacation...back down."

Holding this kid sets my ovaries to "function mode" or something. She never fusses, loves my dancing (I mean, who DOESN'T, right? But she is clearly advanced.) and even when she spit up on me she leaned over so most of it hit the floor. Where do I get one?

And speaking of the famous DeFazio Dance Moves: Evan rocks out with his toy pager. Don't ask. I think he's expecting a call from 1987 or something.

No, Dad, I DID NOT make the baby sing "All the Single Ladies" and we DID NOT do the dance routine from the video and I most certainly DID NOT swear in front of him. Why do you ask?

A few people have asked about the Blondie concert and all I can say is that the bitch kicks some ASS. I want to be like her when I grow up. And I think the entire gay population of Butte County was at the show; it was nice to meet the six of you. I wasn't great about taking pictures, and the ones I do have are just scary. CKD may have gone a little crazy with the Maybelline Superstay and may have looked a little crazy with her new dark hair, pasty-ass skin and RED lips. Just trust me on this one, OK?

He's at the Top of MY List

2009-03-01T14:23:00.000-08:00

The other night Judy asked Evan if he understood what it meant to be thankful, and she gave him some examples of things for which she is grateful. Then she asked him what he is thankful for.

"My big boy bed. No more crib."

Pause.

"And the love in our house."

Yes, there is some serious love in this house.

Happy Birthday FraochNiCymru aka "Because liberals and conservatives CAN be friends!"

2009-02-26T16:30:00.001-08:00

I wasn't so sure that today's birthday girl would want a blog shout-out from me, but I was happy when I got the go-ahead. We met during my time on the East Coast and our friendship got off to a rocky start to say the least. It was sort of like an episode of Three's Company in terms of misunderstandings, but no one was pretending to be gay. (And I'm using her Internet pseudonym since she works in a, uh, sensitive office and I don't want any Google searches leading The Man here.) When I was headed back to California, she happened to email me to say hello and the ensuing conversations led to an interesting "come to Jesus" type of talk, a newfound understanding of each other, and an unlikely friendship at a time when I was looking for good signs anywhere.

Cym is a fierce mother lioness who will fuck your shit up if you dare mess with her family. For reals you guys. Just don't even try. I hope that if I am fortunate enough to have kids I will find that kind of strength to deal with any crap anyone throws at them.

Cym has this weird notion that she isn't girlie or a fashionable or some such silliness, but on a few occasions when I have posed a question about an outfit this chick has rolled up with advice that makes me feel dumb because it's so simple. But mostly I am grateful I asked and that she shared.

Cym sometimes says the hard stuff you don't want to hear. And as much as we all need the hold-your-hand-and-nod-sympathetically-friends, sometimes we need the kick-in-the-butt friends. (For the record, many of my friends can fall into this category, but this seems to be her specialty.) Hearing the hard stuff isn't always pretty but it's necessary.

Cym showed up at a transitional "WTF?" time in my life and encouraged me to keep on being me, having fun, and exploring all of the new options ahead. Yes, A LOT of people did this, but as someone who had very little interaction with me, she suggested things no one else had, and the possibilities opened me up in a new way.

Cym is an amazing writer. When she finally writes her memoirs or a novel or SOMETHING I will so be first in line at her book signings and readings because that shit is gonna be hilaaaaarious. I cannot drink anything while reading her emails because of too many close calls with coffee out the nose. You've been warned.

Cym, I am holding you to your promise of a West Coast visit and you will need to prep the guest room (and most of Northern VA) when I find my way back there. Stockpile the wine now! And enjoy your day - I'm toasting you from out here.

A Hypothetical Question for You

2009-02-25T20:58:00.000-08:00

Yes, I went to church for Ash Wednesday. No, the walls did not start bleeding.

I'm not big on the Church and organized religion, although I most definitely pray and believe in God and do actually enjoy attending Mass. (Are you uncomfortable yet? Sorry. Bear with me.)

So, I went to church for the first time in almost a year, took communion, and went home with the biggest, darkest cross on my forehead ever. And somewhere in there, I half listened to the priest (I was at the back, the PA system was so-so and I had to strain to hear him) and half meditated on how giving up soda for Lent was not really a great sacrifice. Although I did reason that I could take the money I spend on soda, set is aside, and use it toward something more meaningful. You think 40 days worth of soda money won't make a difference? People, you don't know how bad my addiction is.

And then I took no end of crap for doing all of that.

See, I haven't been to confession in, um, oh...Let's just say I was probably in junior high. And being the goody-goody I was, I'm sure the worst offense I had to offer up was some smack-talk about another girl. Point is, I've racked up some decent sins since then and have yet to formally ask a priest to make sure I'm good with God. And did I mention I am NOT a regular church goer? I mean, I end up going for Christmas and/or Easter, maybe another random trip in there somewhere, and then maybe a wedding that includes a mass. And even then I'm checking out the groomsmen and counting down to the cocktail hour, not thinking about God and sacraments and whatever.

So here's my question: am I a bad person for treating the Catholic faith like a buffet? You know, picking and choosing what I want, rejecting the not-so-fun parts? Or is it good enough that I at least acknowledge my hypocrisy, try to be a good person and basically use this blog as a confessional?

And if everyone agrees I need to get myself to a confessional booth, don't blame ME when the priest freaks out after I go all Jack Donaghy on him.

Stone away.

What to Wear Wednesday: Your Turn

2009-02-25T12:06:00.000-08:00

I'm such a hack. Here I claim I can solve your beauty and fashion dilemmas and I'm asking YOU for the advice. (Did I just lose the guys? Bye! I'll post a picture of someone in a bikini tomorrow or something.)

My complexion is pretty decent, but every once in awhile I find myself dealing with a blemish or some dark circles under the eyes. Yes, I have a good foundation, but sometimes I just want to cover up the problem spots and move on, and it doesn't cut it. The caveat: I am Pasty McWhitey and have dry, sensitive skin. So, whatever I use needs to come in a shade semi-close to my skin tone AND not make my skin issues worse.

Anyone have a miracle concealer? If so, leave a comment, send me an email or find me on Facebook. Any and all suggestions will be considered! Ideally this will be something I can pick up in retail-challenged Chico (ie we know not of Sephora, Nordstrom or Ulta), but that's not a deal-breaker.

More Proof for the Commitment Hearing

2009-02-24T07:46:00.000-08:00

I think about Beyonce sometimes. Not as much as I think about Tina Fey, but I spend a decent amount of brain energy on her. Energy that should be spent on job applications, saving baby seals and/or doing sit-ups. Don't try to understand it, because Lord knows I don't.

A few of my recent musings on the subject:

-Does anyone else find it weird that she has this alter ego named "Sasha Fierce?" Because "Beyonce" is just sooo commonplace that she needs something more exotic?

-Why is the hit single off her most recent album all about being single and not crying over her boyfriend? She's married now, right? He liked it, he put a ring on it, Beyonce-Sasha! Don't get me wrong, this song is playing on a continuous loop in my brain (although every time I hear the line "To infinity and beyond" I imagine that she broke up with Buzz Lightyear) and I may or may not have a little dance that I do when I hear it.

But really? Really?! I'm not getting what's going on with Ms. Knowles.

Maybe I am not meant to understand. Maybe these are questions for the ages. Maybe I should put down the wine.

Oh, and I've been watching this non-stop for about 45 minutes:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5qx-MVrXfk&feature=PlayList&p=89FF437B85DBFC5D&playnext=1&index=16

Weirdly hynotic, no? The dance I choreographed is eerily similar to Andy Samberg's moves around :58.

Exciting News from Lingering Cold Central: Now with Super-Attractive Cold Sore AND Period Acne!

2009-02-23T13:41:00.000-08:00

(Are you totally turned on right now? It's OK. Don't fight it.)

Not long after writing yesterday's bitchy-ass post about HOW DIFFICULT my life is, what with having the sniffles (oh, the humanity!), help and relief showed up miraculously. This put things into better perspective for me. I mean, it's a COLD. There are people everywhere dealing with way worse. Hell, I have dealt with way worse (what's up, pneumonia and various lung infections that made me cough so hard I vomit in public?) in the past. Sack up.

Katie is also sick and we decided that we needed pedicures to a.) get our whiny selves out of our homes and b.) help us feel like pretty pretty princesses. The pedis worked, yes, and we showed good judgment by sipping juice rather than our traditional mimosas. But Katie had a little surprise for me that perked me up like none other: a visit from the cutest little puppy ever. (Oh, he was accompanied by his "dad" and all that. It's not like he just called up and asked if we were doing anything. He's a puppy.)

Anyway, Riggs, the puppy, was so well-behaved and sweet and snuggly and soft...I did my best not to go all Lenny on him, but it took serious restraint, y'all. This kind of made me feel like a child. Despite all the Stranger Danger stuff I had drilled in to me, I'm pretty sure a kidnapper could easily - to this day - lure me into a sketchy van with a "Will you help me find my lost puppy/kitten?" story because sweet Jesus, I am a sucker for animals. And baby animals? Oy. Don't get me started.

This kind of got me thinking that while I may look like a grown-up and manage to fake it on most days, I really should not be allowed to live without adult supervision. I submit the following evidence:

-I have had to take a little break from my 24 viewing. You'd think this break was inspired by a desire for real human interaction, or to eat some cheese. Nope. This little self-imposed break is due to the new appearace of nightmares...24-inspired nightmares. Now the assassins don't want to hurt David Palmer or Jack Bauer: they are after ME. I know. I KNOW. There are first graders who can probably watch that show before bedtime and be completely fine, but I am a delicate flower. A fucking mental delicate flower, so please treat me with care.

-Last night while watching the Academy Awards I found myself hoarsely yelling "I NEED MORE COWBELL" the entire time Christopher Walken was on the stage to present...something. I don't even know. I was too busy repeating a joke that was funny seven years ago, and cracking myself up in the process. Sure, there may have been a little cold medicine cocktail involved here, but dude. Come on.

-The aforementioned puppy incident. Most normal people reach down and pet a dog. Me? I roll around on the floor with it with zero regard to social norms, ladylike behavior or the pitch of my voice.

I'm choosing to take some comfort in the fact that I act like a full-on child, rather than a tween. I mean, I'm not parading around in a glittery shirt and my pants cover my ass. I'm taking my victories where I can get them. Back off.

Now, I need to cure my fever with MORE COWBELL. Hahahaha! Ah, never gets old for me...

It's Raining, It's Pouring, This Post is Really Boring

2009-02-22T13:22:00.000-08:00

And whiny.

It's the 2009 edition of "Being Sick is for Crap" so settle on in for some bitching and moaning because OH MY GOD I HATE HATE HATE BEING SICK.

You know that stereotype that men are the worst when it comes to illness? All helpless and baby-like? Well, I challenge all the males of the world to a showdown in that department. Something about sleep deprivation coupled with an inability to breathe brings out my most charming qualities: self-pity mixed with exhaustion and hint of "fuck-off-no-not-really-can-you-get-me-some-soup-please-don't-leave-meeeeee." I'm hungry, but I don't know what I want. I'm thirsty, but I don't want water, juice or tea, damn it. I'm tired but can't relax and get to sleep. It's adorable, really.

The weather is most definitely conducive to a day of staying inside under a blanket. At the same time, the weather is depressing me because if I'm sick on a nice day, I somehow muster the energy to face the world and that seems to help my mental health, if not the physical. If you have any hints on feeling better in a hurry, please send them my way. Along with some soup. And an US magazine, if it's not too much trouble. Thanks.

I think the only thing that can help me is a hot toddy and a pedicure. Ladies?

Because My Friends Cannot Make Decisions Without Your Help Either

2009-02-19T11:13:00.001-08:00

Interweb, your assistance is requested regarding A Very Important Fashion Decision. A wedding-related fashion decision...which is pretty hardcore in the realm of clothing choices. The marriage may not last, but those photos are around FORFUCKINGEVER. (Just ask my mom about the harassment she has endured at the hands of her only child. Hey, if you wear a lampshade hat, expect me to comment on it, OK?) For the first time in the history of someone getting married I am NOT the one required to don a bridesmaid dress. But we have a Bridesmaid Virgin on our hands and she needs our help.

Miss Katie will be in her very first wedding in September, which is actually very exciting. The bride has chosen dresses offered through an online boutique, and has designated "persimmon" as the color. However, being a reasonable sort, she is allowing each girl to choose her own style. Here is where you can help.

We have a little poll going where you can vote on which style Katie should choose. She has it narrowed down to two, but is open to suggestions if you feel strongly. You can vote in the comments, too, and all opinions will be considered.

Here is Katie, in case you haven't met her:

Check out the dress options here http://lulakate.com/bridal/. Katie is leaning toward the Ashley or the Katherine (which would be kinda cute since that is her name and all, but not really a requirement), but open to suggestions if the overwhelming majority feels differently. This is kind of reminds me of playing dress-up with my dolls only it's a real, live person. Who really likes wine. See why we're friends?

At Least I'm Consistently Lame

2009-02-19T08:17:00.001-08:00

In keeping with the theme "CKD is always about 8 steps behind what is cool right now" I would like to discuss my "new" favorite television show: 24.

What's that you say? This show has been on for several years now? And I am JUST NOW catching on to its awesomeness? Well, add it to the list of reasons of why I am not - nor ever will be - cool. Maybe tomorrow I'll buy some acid wash jeans. Or a Walkman.

Because I am a good little rule-follower I have started from the beginning (thanks for loaning me the DVD's Kevin!) in hopes that by 2010 I will be able to watch the current season. I am hooked. COMPLETELY HOOKED. The twists are fun, the characters aren't what they seem at first glance and Jack Bauer is such a badass. I think I'm developing a little crush on him, to tell you the truth. There, I said it. Impure thoughts aside, it really is a good show. Why didn't anyone mention it to me before?

What to Wear Wednesday: Not-So-Shiny But Still Happy People

2009-02-18T13:08:00.000-08:00

This week's question comes from Miz Literature:

"I have a problem with 'shine.' Do you know of any products that will help me keep a matte look all day?"

Dear Miz Lit,

Without a little more info on your current product usage, I'm going to start from the basics and work our way up. This might be a case of "less is more" as opposed to adding layers to your gorgeous face.

Shine is usually a problem for the oily or combination skinned people of the world, but you should still be using a moisturizer every day. Use an oil-free one (Neutrogena has fantastic options, and it's easy to get one with basic SPF protection) to keep your skin balanced and avoid extra shine.

In terms of make-up, there are several options. I wouldn't do ALL of these things at once, but some experimenting might be in order to find the right solution.

I like the Smashbox Photo Finish primer before applying anything to my face. It mattifies (Is that a word? We'll say it is.) before you put on your make-up and is clear, so no need to spend hours matching colors. Who has that kind of time? It works well under foundation, powder, whatever...and helps your make-up stay put so you don't need to reapply throughout the day.

If you like foundation, I am a big fan of mineral make-up. Two excellent brands to try: Bare Escentuals (sort of the Big Name in mineral make-up) and Jane Iredale (my current love). Both offer excellent coverage without creating a "mask" effect. Bonus: you don't really need to do the foundation/powder combo. Since I am the laziest person on the planet, I am all about eliminating steps so that I can move on to my favorite morning activity: getting some coffee. Anyway, this stuff stays on all day (even during Chico summers when it's 145 degrees) and keeps the shine at bay.

Not feeling the mineral foundation? Sue Devitt makes a wonderful liquid foundation that goes on like buttah.

Not really into foundation? This brings us to...

Dr. Feelgood. I. Love. This. Stuff.

I have singled it out as a favorite thing and I pretty much always have it on me. Works beautifully alone, under foundation or as shine control hours after you first applied your make-up. No need to match colors and you can apply it while driving to work (not that I have EVER done that) because there's really no precision involved. If you go for the Sue Devitt foundation and find you are still a little shiny, this is the perfect thing to layer over it for a quick touch-up.

Have fun playing around at the various make-up counters and best of luck in your quest to let your adorable personality be the only shiny thing about you!

Tonight, We Bowl!

2009-02-17T20:37:00.000-08:00

Monday I woke up with the kind of headache you get after you've spent the day riding around in a limo swigging champagne in between visits to three separate wineries. And yet when a certain three year-old woke me with "WE'RE GOING TO THE BOWLING ALLEY!" I knew I had to sack up and face the noise.

Apparently every family within a 50 mile radius had the same idea we did (rain + no school = bowling), but the hour-long wait for a lane was made more bearable by the abundance of hangover food available at SeaBowl. Cheese sticks? Check. Pizza? Check. Chips and salsa? Check. Let's do this!

Little Man so excited that he "knocked down those pins" all the way at the end of the lane. Moments after this photo was taken I squeezed that little face and kissed him because I can.

Sissy tries to convince Bubba to use the racks provided for kids to help them bowl. Captain Independent was having none of it and insisted on hurling the ball down the lane. Each turn took approximately 34 minutes.

The DeFazio kids celebrating a successful turn. At this point Evan was just enjoying goofing off with the rack...it gave him something to do as the ball made its slow-ass way down the lane.

The Verdict

2009-02-17T18:58:00.000-08:00

You voted and I listened! The results of last week's hair appointment in all of it's crazy-curly glory:

A little darker, we're dealing with the layers and please note the jazz hands. Transformation into Tina Fey should be complete by Spring. Woohoo!

*Editor's Note: I had been drinking for several hours at the time this picture was taken and would not - nay - COULD NOT stop doing the damn jazz hands. (Doesn't help that everyone encourages me by laughing when I do it. I'm four years-old, apparently.) Just didn't want you to think that I just go around busting out the jazz hands for no good reason.

Well, NOW What the Hell Am I Supposed to Name my Unborn Twins?

2009-02-12T14:34:00.001-08:00

Because Gin and Juice? No more.

http://thesuperficial.com/2009/02/snoop_dogg_just_lost_all_his_s.php

It's either Sid and Nancy or Luke and Leia.

Snoop, how could you?

Grace in Small Things

2009-02-12T08:20:00.001-08:00

1.) Seeing that Boy Chris became a fan of "Your Mom" on Facebook and nearly spitting coffee all over my keyboard.

2.) Getting my hair did tonight - so long frumpy ponytail!

3.) A buffalo and emu scramble for breakfast.

4.) Valentine's Day plans...

5.) Bright pink shirts from Target for $3.

6.) The phrase "Fat Kids Fried Drunk Camp for Lonely Fatties" because that is fucking hysterical.

What to Wear Wednesday: Special Double Issue

2009-02-11T07:38:00.000-08:00

Today we have TWO questions and since I feel like an ass for making people wait, I'll address them both in one post. We'll call it a "Hotties from Pasadena" special edition if you will.

Our first question is from KB:

"When is it appropriate to wear brown and black together? I seem to scoff whenever I see them together."

I have never really been a fan of mixing black and brown. Call me a rule-follower or unimaginative, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around a way to mix the two but still create a cohesive outfit. BUT! My friend Roadtripper got me hooked on a fabulous fashion blog: http://whatiwore2day.blogspot.com/ and she has included some photos and examples of how she pulls this off. (Sidenote: I fully realize I am cribbing info from someone else, but I am also CREDITING the original artist like a good little English major so back off, OK?)

Here are some photos of how Kasmira, the author, mixes black and brown. While these outfits may not be everyone's cup of tea, I give her credit for linking the colors through accessories and managing to look purposeful rather than haphazard. It seems like you need to have a base, black OR brown, and then add accessories in the other color, and THEN a pop of something else just to keep yourself from being too boring. If you give it a whirl, send me some tips and photos!

Question #2 comes from Auditing Your Outfit and it is a doozy, kids.

"So my question does not pertain to fashion advice for myself (although I could definitely use it), but how to approach and solve the issues of others. And by others I do not mean the people I like to gawk at in Starbucks or at the grocery store. I mean those in my office. A place of business. A conservative corporate giant where it is supposed to be an honor to work (or something like that). All of these people have a college eduction, some even have a masters or a law degree. But for whatever reason, they cannot fathom that it is inappropriate to:

1) Wear pants that are a good inch too short (with white sport socks, sometimes)
2) Rock the camel-toe as though their names are actually Annie
3) Dress as though they can go directly from work to the club with ease
4) Sport 2-3 inches of cleavage (and still wonder why people don't look at thier face in meetings)

5) Appear in apparal my mother (or grandmother actually) would have been wearing circa 1986 (not in a cool retro way, let's not give people the benefit of the doubt here)

Those are the top 5.

Now I am not saying that its not okay to have commited one of the aforementioned offenses. It is NOT okay that committing the offenses is the norm rather than exception to the rule. It is an accounting firm people. Don't show up to work in an outfit that you stole from the set of Flashdance and think people are going to take you seriously in a meeting. Save that for when I see you at Starbucks or the grocery store. How, oh how do I even tell these people they are so so wrong? Please help."

Oh Auditing... It's like we work at the same place! Chico is a very casual, laid-back town and our entire campus reflects that vibe but damn, some people really take it to an extreme. Shorts and flip-flops are not the way to go when you work in an office. People use the hot summer weather as an excuse or claim comfort, but I am a firm believer that a skirt and nice sandals are just as comfy, cool and likely more flattering. And, you know, WORK APPROPRIATE.

We have a couple of issues going on here: inappropriate attire vs straight up fugly. Let's address the former first.

If someone who reports to you is dressing inappropriately (too casual, too revealing, whatever), pulling him or her aside for a little chat is fine. Or, you can have HR do your dirty work for you: a well-crafted memo reminding people of What is Acceptable and What is Not OK might help kick some butts into professional gear. Specific examples work here (mentioning cleavage, short skirts, etc) and you don't need to run around talking to everyone individually. And if you have an actual dress code for your office/corporation, post it or attach it to the memo. A procedure can be enforced. Bonus: YOU are not the Bad Cop. It's The Man keeping everyone down.

Now for the problem of bad taste. Yeah, if people are dressing within the confines of what is technically acceptable, but are doing so poorly (ie a suit with shoulder pads) there isn't much you can do unless you just want to start calling people out. Note: I am not really opposed to this, just not sure if you want to be known as the Style Police. If you are friends with one of the offenders, invite her to lunch near a store with some cute outfits in the window. Stop in front of the store and INSIST you go in and have her try something on. Rave about how freaking adorable she is until she buys it. Compliment the improvements to the wardrobe and point out flattering pieces.

I did this with a co-worker and there has been a marked improvement in her daily wear. Sure, she sometimes wears black pants with white socks and brown shoes (for reals) BUT more often than not she's looking more polished and like she put a little thought into her look. True story.
Sometimes a little positive reinforcement goes further than telling people they look like shit. Best of luck!

OK, I Will Call You "Varsity" If You Stop Emailing Me Pictures of Your Eyeball

2009-02-10T14:41:00.000-08:00

From Cappa, who damn near scared the living shit out of me when I opened my email to find THIS:

Look who perfected the liquid eyeliner on the top AND bottom...and then documented it for praise and also to make me poop myself? Go Cappa...uh, I mean "Varsity!"

This Is a Crappy Excuse for a Post but I'm Taking All Kinds of Hell for My Hiatus

2009-02-10T08:09:00.001-08:00

Hey Interweb...what's happening? (Say that like Bill in Office Space.) Apparently people actually read this thing because I have taken some crap for not updating the last couple of days. Um, sorry? Mama killed some brain cells this weekend and is planning to do an Afterschool Special/Very Special Episode-type of post COMPLETE WITH PHOTOS as soon as said pictures are procured. Hang in there - evidence of the full powers of my jackassery will be here soon.

In the meantime, here are some deep thoughts for you:

-I read this: http://www.whiskeymarie.com/2009/01/whats-wrong-with-me-part-7463.html and pretty much lost my shit because I play this same game ALL THE TIME. Meetings, the grocery store, coffee shop, random cocktail party: it's a sickness. But apparently someone else suffers from it so at least I'm not alone in the crazy. So, you know...good for me? I think? Anyone else out there want to cop to this kind of insanity?

-When did CSU Hayward become CSU East Bay? That's weird.

-It has come to my attention that after exhausting the armed forces I am now just collecting The Village People. The Indian Chief is going to be a challenge but I think I'm up for it.

-Don't you love those days when you kind of threw together an outfit and didn't really have time to do anything with your hair (which is an out of control mess anyway and probably beyond help) and yet people stop you in the hallway to say you look cute? Because I fucking love those days.

You Must Chill!

2009-02-05T07:27:00.000-08:00

I don't know what the hell has come over me but this may be known as the Week of Extreme Spazziness. Examples?

-I stupidly had a cup of coffee at 3pm (I am seriously under doctor's orders NOT to do that if I intend to sleep that night) and by the time I got home at 5:30 I was completely hopped up. I went for a run hoping to burn off some of the crazy and, you know, get some exercise. It wasn't so much "running" as darting about and sprinting through my neighborhood. I didn't feel especially hungry but am glad I took my mom's advice and sat down to eat because if nothing else, food could help counteract some of the caffeine. Right? Mmmm...not so much.

-The run and some sleepy time tea seemed to lull me into a delightful peaceful state...only for me to bolt wide awake at 4am. Awesome! As someone who has suffered with insomnia, I have a pretty good bag of tricks on hand to relax myself and get back to sleep. But my brain? It had other ideas and WOULD NOT CALM DOWN. I started worrying about what I am going to wear to my friend Monica's wedding. Her wedding is in September. Yeah. I don't know what to say either.

-This week marked the completion and initial approval of a huge project I've been toiling away on for work. I won't bore you with the details, but this was one of those projects that went on and it seemed like it would never end. I had nightmares about submitting the report, but without a cover page and being told I had to start all over again. (What, YOU don't have stress dreams about work? Well, excuse me, Captain Well-Adjusted.) The shrieking and jumping and happy dancing that went on in my office when I received word that it was a go and being sent up to the next level of bureaucracy was akin to something you'd see at a cheerleading camp. I'm pretty sure I pulled something in the process, which is a true testament of my enthusiasm, ridiculousness and age. Go me! Also, I knocked into a filing cabinet during one of my little kicky-dance things and have a few lovely bruises on my leg. There are five year-olds with better impulse control.

Is this adult onset ADD? Or am I just plain nuts? The burst of energy isn't unwelcome and it's been a fabulous week so maybe I should just roll with it.

What to Wear Wednesday: Eyeliner How-To

2009-02-04T07:15:00.000-08:00

My very first question comes from "Tammy F" in Minnesota:

"Okay... my first question... eyeliner.. whats the best way to apply it without making you look like a hooker?"

Hi Tammy!

This question could not be more perfect! I have struggled with eyeliner for years. Make-up people at every counter always want to put it on me and it ends up looking too severe, too raccoon-like. Not really the look you or I want to rock. Lately I've been experimenting a bit and have found a few variables help you stay on the right side of sexy.

Usually one of the first mistakes with eyeliner is color selection. Even applied perfectly, the wrong color is going to be horribly unflattering. Black is incredibly harsh for most people and can actually make your eyes look smaller, not bigger. Knowing you and your coloring, I'd opt for brown or even a deep plum. Dark greens can be pretty, too, as long as they aren't too yellow. I recommend Clinique's True Khaki; it comes with a blending spongey thingy on the other end to help correct mistakes. Perfect for an eyeliner novice! You want the eyeliner to complement your eyeshadow palette, so choose accordingly.

Now for the application: I learned this trick from Carmindy on What Not to Wear and oh sweet Lord, it works! Hold your eyelid taut. Start at the outer corner, and work your way in. BUT! Don't try to draw one, long, straight line. Make little dash marks very close to your lashline as you slowly move toward the inside. (I don't go all the way to the inside corner because my lashes are blonde and sparse there and it looks weird.) Play around a little and see what looks right for you. Start lightly and darken as you feel more confident; it's easier to add more than try to fix a heavy-handed approach. I tend to go for a subtle look that just makes my lashes look a little thicker and darker. If you want a bolder line, I would start small and build up, or get a thicker pencil. Sue Devitt makes great ones (excellent color selection and easy to use) that also come with the blending spongey thingy.

Another cause of Hooker Eyes (Is that even A THING? Yes, I am declaring it IS.) is too much eyeliner on the top AND bottom. You have options here. I tend to skip the bottom, and apply a little mascara instead. However, if you really feel you need a little somethin' somethin', I'd use the same approach , but focus on the outer corners.

If you're not into pencils, you can always pick up an eyeliner brush (the Sonia Kashuk line at Target has nice options) and dip it into an eyeshadow you like. Follow the same application technique as above. This usually has a softer effect and the color options might be more appealing.

Interested in liquid eyeliner? Um, yeah. You will need to consult someone who can handle it. That stuff is varsity level as far as I'm concerned, and always looks hookerish on me. Sorry.

Best of luck and send pictures of your hot look!

What to Wear Wednesday. Or Something Like That?

2009-02-03T12:46:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I like to tell people what to do and think my official title should be The Boss of You. We can blame it on being an only child for close to 28 years. Or being my mother's daughter.

With some prodding from FraochNiCymru, I am starting up a little advice column...but with a specific purpose. Can you guess what it is?

Well, I'll give you a hint:

Anyone who owns this much lip gloss knows her shit.

And anyone who owns THIS should not be ignored.

I know what you may be thinking. Aren't you the girl perpetually covered in crumbs? Didn't you used to have feathered bangs? And isn't there a picture of you in your high school yearbook sporting a top from Wet Seal with a matching fucking scrunchie? Yes, I will own up to all of the above. Let's just look past all that and move forward, mmmk?

Here is how this works: you send me a fashion or beauty related question and I answer it on Wednesday*. The more details you include, the better chance I have of providing actual help. Simple enough, right? Let's do this! Your questions could be about what to wear for a specific event, the right moisturizer for your skin, or ideas on how to use your new green clutch that doesn't "go" with anything else in your closet. You can email me or leave a question in the comments section.

Hit me with your best shot.

*Why Wednesday? Because it's Hump Day and that cracks me up. Don't look at me like that. This isn't parenting advice or finishing school, OK?

Grace in Small Things

2009-02-03T07:59:00.000-08:00

1.) Friends who encourage my immaturity and revel in making jokes with the word "balls" in them.

2.) Hearing the phone ring, expecting it to be a telemarketer, and seeing Lili's name and number instead.

3.) Sour cream to put on my burrito (well, a burrito minus the tortilla) and tangellos in my salad.

4.) Tuesday is my Monday. Thursday is my Friday. Effin' A, Cotton. Effin' A.

5.) Coffee in the morning and string cheese in the afternoon.

My Favorite Things: What I'm Wearing

2009-02-01T16:00:00.000-08:00

There have been some requests for photos of some of my Favorite Things in my wardrobe. It's Monday, I'm bored, and I have a camera. Let's do this!

Chicken Dress: I found this frock at a store here in Chico in their small "vintage" section. It was so 1950's and fun and inexpensive so I snagged it. Why is it called "The Chicken Dress" you ask? Because the pattern features flowers and chickens. Duh. I wore it to church with my grandma and she went crazy over it; I've seen pictures of her back in the day and she was one stylin' fox (how she managed that while wrangling five rambunctious boys I'll never know) so I'm taking that as a compliment. It's not lined and the skirt is see-through so I have to wear a slip with it, which actually makes me feel really proper and all Sandra Dee-ish.

This one's for you, Roadtripper... Please note the classy location for this photo shoot: my bathroom.

Black Boots: My quest for black boots was a complicated one, mostly because I am high-maintenance. I didn't want TOO high of a heel, or TOO pointy of a toe, and I also didn't want something that looked like it was straight out of Herman Munster's closet and I didn't want anything that looked like someone took a Bedazzler to it...my list of demands was ridiculous, really. Luckily DSW came to the rescue with this pair by Bandolino. Hallelujia!

How do I *really* know these are a winner? Gay men gave it the thumbs up.

Anthropologie Skirt: The skirt that made me Anthro's bitch for life. Eight years after its purchase I still wear it as much as possible and receive compliments on the unique style. Sometimes I worry it's a bit much. I mean, it's pretty bright and features sparkles - but if that doesn't describe me, I don't know what does. The material is soft and it makes me feel pretty. So there.

The bright colors! The beading at the bottom! So in love after all these years!

Pashmina Collection: All the haters out there can shut it. Go ahead and argue that pashminas are SO 1998. Whatever. They are cozy and can add some color to a blah outfit. And double as a blankie on an airplane. Magic! These photos should be proof that I have A Problem but they are all used, so I feel OK about that.

Exhibit A: The winter/fall color collection

Exhibit B: The spring/summer collection

Pink Clutch: Elisabeth sent this to me for my birthday one year and I may have actually squealed a little when I unwrapped it. It's completely girly - pink AND sparkly - which is nice for a tomboy like me.

Hello, Lover...

The Super Classy T-Shirt Collection: Lest you think I'm the Queen of England, here's evidence that CKD knows how to rock and roll all night, AND party every day. With, you know, breaks for snacks and napping of course. Probably the best purchases of 1998, really. The "Dick's" shirt is from a burger place in Seattle, hence the tagline "Where TASTE is the difference." I don't wear these shirts out in public anymore, but there was a time when I didn't think twice about sporting them out and about. My mom did not love that phase.

Van Halen, 1980 Invasion. Oh heeeelllll yes!

This shirt is so bright you can probably see it from space. Obviously, it was love at first sight.

Thirty-One

2009-01-29T08:06:00.000-08:00

Birth: My mom was eight days past her due date when she finally felt like something was happening. She told my dad not to go to work and they headed to the hospital. I was born about eight hours later, early the next morning. My mom said she already knew I was a girl from the dreams she had, and exactly what my name would be.

One: My grandfather was recovering from open heart surgery and my mom was too worn out and emotionally exhausted to plan a party. From the pictures I've seen it looks like there was a cake and I still had very little hair.

Two: Looks like we had some family friends over to my grandma's for cake.

Three: I was sick, we didn't really do anything.

Four: I was sick again, but my mom was tired of me not having a proper birthday party. A bunch of people came over to our house, but in every photo I look feverish and miserable. Most of the kids have given me a good three feet of space since they can tell I am an incubus of plague.

Five: I had pneumonia and missed a month of school, but I got some new Barbies for the Barbie dream house I received at Christmas.

Six: We had cake and a small "party" at my kindergarten. I was healthy enough for school, which was nice.

Seven: I had pneumonia AGAIN and missed about a month of first grade. Kids from my class sent get well notes.

Eight: My friends Amber and Ashley came over for cookies after dinner. We were sad about the Challenger explosion the previous day and were scared from all the news footage that was shown every two seconds.

Nine: Straw Hat Pizza Parlor party with classmates and friends. I didn't like traditional cake or frosting or chocolate so my mom got me a cheesecake with fruit on the top, which was the best thing I had ever tasted in my life.

Ten: Elisabeth got to spend the night and we watched Sixteen Candles for the first time ever. Needless to say, it was a life-changing experience.

Eleven: I think Elisabeth and I were on the outs or something at this point...But my friend Chalis got to spend the night and my parents took us to the Hard Rock Cafe in San Francisco for lunch. Chalis gave me a crimping iron.

Twelve: I do not remember this birthday at all.

Thirteen: My grandpa had died a month earlier and I refused to celebrate. My mom finally convinced me to sit down for dinner with her, Dave, my dad and Grandma. I spent the meal being a petulant brat. Welcome to the teenage years. My mom gave me a beautiful garnet necklace. This did little to raise my spirits. I'm still in shock she didn't ship me off to boarding school on the spot.

Fourteen: I think there was a small surprise party and sleepover at Elisabeth's house? I don't remember.

Fifteen: Elisabeth, her mom and her Nana took me to see Guys and Dolls in San Francisco. We went to Coit Tower that night to look at the view and I knew at one point in my life I would live in the City.

Sixteen: My mom pulled a completely serious, unintentional Sixteen Candles and forgot it was my birthday until halfway through the day. Much like Samantha Baker, I was less than amused. She made up for it with gifts of jewelry, so we were good to go. Elisabeth and I were allowed to take the train to San Francisco by ourselves and spend the day up there. We shopped, ate root beer floats at Ghiradelli Square, rode a cable car and took a terrifying cab ride. That night my friends and I went out to dinner and had a sleepover while most of our high school went to the Winter Formal.

Seventeen: Went to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show dressed up rather...provocatively. For still being underage and all that, I mean.

Eighteen: Spent about two weeks celebrating this one...My mom and Dave took me to a fancy-pants dinner and gave me a pair of diamond earrings. Various dinners and movies out with friends, culminating in a surprise party for me at my friend Martha's house. I was so excited and touched I almost cried.

Nineteen: The first college birthday! My roommates and friends took me to Pizza and Pipes, where the organist made me stand up while he played Happy Birthday and everyone sang. We requested "Ragdoll" because thought we were hilarious. Come to think of it, we kinda were.

Twenty: My roommates took me to the one decent Mexican restaurant in Tacoma, the Tortilla Factory, I think? I'm sure at some point we ended up at Sigma Chi, getting drunk.

Twenty-One: Went to the Family Tavern for my first legal drink in a bar at midnight. Free drinks on my flight from Seattle to San Francisco. Cable car barhopping party complete with bartender ON THE CABLE CAR. Almost got kicked out of a biker bar for being too rowdy. Threw up all over the inside of a cab and Eileen had to pay the driver extra to let us stay and take us back to her place. Woke up the next day and couldn't find my pants. My mom and Dave gave me a Hawaiian heirloom ring with my middle name, Kaaihue, on it. I didn't wear it that night out of fear of losing it. (See aforementioned pants incident.)

Twenty-Two: Went to karaoke with friends and drank myself illiterate. Long Island Iced Teas+Microphone=Idiot. My mom was this age when she had me. Weird.

Twenty-Three: I threw a surprise party for a friend...not knowing another friend had arranged it so that it was also a party for me. Surprise! Brought my new boyfriend to meet my gang of friends and got the thumbs-up. Elisabeth sent me a gorgeous scarf from France.

Twenty-Four: Got food poisoning a few days prior, so I was remarkably slim after days of puking. My dad and stepmom met up with us after dinner and my stepmom bought us a round of tequila shots. This guy I had a crush on showed up and hung out for awhile. He is married now.

Twenty-Five: I had a cold and my mom and Dave took me to dinner. They gave me a pearl necklace. It was my first birthday without my grandma, and I had just gone back to school at CSU Chico.

Twenty-Six: Zero recollection of anything remotely remarkable happening, which leads me to believe I probably had another goddamn cold.

Twenty-Seven: Went dancing with some friends in Chico. Almost fell off the stage at LaSalle's. Not because I was drunk, but because I am THAT uncoordinated and spazzy.

Twenty-Eight: Accepted a job offer at Edward Jones in Pacifica. Jumped at the chance to work and live near my new baby brother.

Twenty-Nine: Freaked the fuck out over turning 29. No idea why.

Thirty: Eileen came out from New York to celebrate, which is kind of shocking (see Twenty-One) but was so touching nonetheless. Took a trip to the wine country with friends and felt like I was on the brink of an exciting beginning to a new chapter, rather than a sad end to one.

Thirty-One: I didn't wake up needing Sudafed or antibiotics, so already I'm feeling pretty good. I spent the last evening of 30 scaling a fence after locking myself out of the house, and I am surrounded by wonderful people and good wishes. But I kind of miss getting Barbies.

UPDATED: Katie called me at my desk to serenade me, and is taking me to La Comida for lunch. La Fucking Comida, bitches! Oh, hellooooo chimichanga with extra sour cream and guacamole. Come to Mama! I have also managed to flash my bra at half of my office, despite wearing a camisole. It's official: I am a special type of spazz.

UPDATED UPDATE: No chimichanga, but I thoroughly enjoyed my enchilada. The server tried to give me Diet Coke and I think it's a sign of my maturity that I did not pull a knife on her. Also, Katie alerted Campus Police that's it's my birthday and one of the officers announced it over the radio. Fantastic.

Speaking of Geeky Pursuits...

2009-01-27T18:07:00.000-08:00

I know I've mentioned this before, but I had (OK, maybe still have) a big ol' honkin' geeky-ass crush on Commander William T. Riker of the Starship Enterprise. To clarify, I do not have a thing for the actor who portrays him, Jonathan Frakes, nor do I really seek out any of his other work. My dork-love is directed at Riker. Because, you know, that is totally normal.

My crush dates back to the early 90's, when my mom would watch Star Trek: The Next Generation, we only had one television, and I decided to watch it with her once. This is probably more than a little odd considering I was 12 or 13. I mean, there was a more age appropriate character on the show - played by Wil Wheaton! - and I'm all up in Number One's grill? Yeah, I'll just let a few of you armchair psychologists ponder this one for awhile.

In my defense, I found him hottest when he grew the beard, but before he started packing on the pounds. But even aging and a little weight gain didn't diminish my love. I'm crazy, not unreasonable, remember?

Behold the object of my affection:

Come on...kind of attractive for an uptight white guy? Maybe? No? OK.

Still not convinced of how awesome he is? Watch this little clip and tell me it's not a total panty-dropper:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvY3jVJJKEI

Anyway, I guess I'm kind of excited to share this because recently I've found kindred spirits in unlikely places and I'm hoping maybe some of you will open up about your semi-embarrassing crushes, past or present. Let's hear them. Oh, and I know I'm opening myself up to ALL KINDS of harassment and mockery, but the heart wants what it wants.

Let's Give This a Try

2009-01-26T15:08:00.000-08:00

I've seen this on a few sites I read and think it's a nice reminder that there are things - sometimes small, silly or seemingly insignificant - that can bring us happiness in the midst of chaos. It's called "Grace in Small Things" and many people list 3-5 items a day. If you can find a few each day that make you smile, it's a nice way to inject a little "serenity now" into your life without going all-out Pollyanna.

Grace in Small Things: 4

1.) Discovering friends who share your affinity for geeky pursuits (I'm looking at you, Cappa and Judi) and embarrassing junior high crushes.

2.) Healthy babies being born to my friends. Congratulations to the Kurtz, Swanes, Alvarez, and Kopscak-Yeung families!

3.) M&M's fresh from the vending machine at 10am. South Beach diet be damned!

4.) Advil.

Sake It To Me

2009-01-25T20:00:00.000-08:00

At some point I will post while NOT under the influence but for now y'all are gonna have to indulge CKD.

There's an upside to having a super-chatty stepdad: he makes friends with EVERYBODY. Seriously. The mailman. The recycling guys. The dean of his department. And most importantly: restaurant owners.

We are favorites at the local sushi place, which means Rock Star status at their special VIP events. Tonight we took part in a special invitation only sake tasting event which capped off what is now known as a Rough Week for Our Family. The sake was to die for, the food was delicious and the laughter was constant. I really, truly enjoy the company of my family and only wish more people had that experience. Yes, they make me crazy sometimes, but they also make me laugh so hard I can't breathe and THAT IS A SERIOUS COMPLIMENT.

Want some proof? Here is a sample of our conversations and drunken non sequiturs. Bet you can't guess who said what.

"I like bold flavored meats."

"I tend to download a lot of porn on my work computer."

"Pour me a glass of sake and let's watch something on the telly!"

"Let's drink this and watch Godzilla!"

"Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto."

"Isn't this what Iron Chef drinks? If it's good enough for him, it's good enough for me."

"And we can use the bottles as Molotov cocktails if there's a riot."

Thank God I don't have to be at work tomorrow. I can almost feel the hangover now.

I love them so much and want to squeeze their faces!

Remember That Time I Didn't Update for a Few Days and Then Finally Got Around to It After I Had Been Drinking? Yeah.

2009-01-23T18:35:00.000-08:00

Hey there...didn't mean to leave the "Woohoo Obama" post up all week as some sort of statement or anything. (Although, OMG how much do I LOVE MICHELLE OBAMA? And how amazing is it that our president has just GOTTEN DOWN TO BUSINESS and is making shit happen?) Just been a wild and crazy week in the life of CKD. And not in the good way. News this week was of the "major job changes" and "serious health issues for family members" variety, which put me in a funk. Throw in a phone call from a certain three year-old informing me he misses me and has been waking up crying in the middle of the night and well...let's just say I have a carry-on packed for my guilt trip.

BUT! This week has not been all gloom-and-doom. I saw the San Francisco Symphony here in Chico! Next week I see Second City (former home of TINA FEY and Steve Carrell) which will be hilarious! I have plans to go to the wine country! And probably the most thrilling news of all: I got three new lip glosses for free! THREE ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY BUT TOTALLY ADORABLE AND DELICIOUS NEW LIP GLOSSES. God bless gift cards and the parents who put them in your stocking. Sure, the new glosses aren't that different from each other (truthfully, not that different from the 400 I already own) but I don't care. They are shiny and flavored and have disgustingly cute names and that makes me happy, OK?

I think some other stuff happened the last few days? I don't know. I am operating under the spell of Cabernet, which is a potent, magical thing. It's made my underwear disappear before. True story.

The Day We've Been Waiting for Since January 20, 2001

2009-01-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

Happy Inauguration Day! I know some of you aren't thrilled about who is being sworn in, but come on...you have to admit we need SOMEONE ELSE in the White House. Anyone. Plus, I put up with your guy for eight years. Time to switch it up here.

I had an interesting conversation with Evan. He was on my lap as I was looking up the official start time for the Big Event and he pointed at Obama's picture and asked, "Who is that?" I explained that he was going to be our new president, and we were really excited about that. "Why?" (It should be noted here that "Why?" is a common, automatic response to anything anyone says ever. It should also be noted that this is freaking exhausting.) "Well, because every four years we get to elect our president, and this man was elected." I went on to try and give a civics lesson to a toddler, which may be completely futile, but whatever. Obama will likely be the first president he remembers (Reagan was mine - how about you?) and this is a big deal. At some point he will understand the historic nature of Obama's victory, and how so many people have a renewed faith and energy with a new administration. Plus, I seriously think Evan could be president* one day (I mean, why not?) and I'd like him to grow up with an awareness of how our government functions and the possibilities for his future.

A friend of mine pointed out that our elections really are a thing to behold in terms of a peaceful transfer of power. No bloodshed (unless you count the time I fell in the parking lot of my polling place and was bleeding from the leg, which, uh, wasn't really THAT big of a deal but dude, could I be a bigger spazz?) or violence. It was simply time for the people to cast their ballots, we did, the end. I have been able to respectfully disagree with people in my office, in my neighborhood and in my own family without fear of being harmed. Remarkable, really.

So I hope that no matter your party affiliation or thoughts on our new president, you can at least take a minute to reflect on that and be grateful.

*Not that I am pushing him to do or be anything he doesn't want, just trying to be supportive.

I Saw Willie Nelson in Concert. What's New with You?

2009-01-16T07:08:00.001-08:00

*Warning: Completely random, disjointed post ahead. Proceed at your own risk of developing ADD right along with me.

Y'all really bring it when it comes to the fashion advice and assurance and I expected nothing less from my fabulous friends. I think this week's resolution to switch it up and step it up (Sounds like a commercial for an exercise video, no? Switch it up! Step it up!) was a success. I was snapped out of my rut by the unseasonably warm weather, of course, and even made small changes like wearing necklaces and eyeshadow. Yes, I understand that most 14 year-old girls can handle that but I think we all know I'M JUST THAT SLOW.

In other news, Coffee Guy's last day at Cal Java was this week. Aloha...and mahalo for the early morning pseudo-flirting. The words "soy latte" will never be the same again.

You know what's kinda fun? Having a friend place bets on how quickly you will get drunk at a party this weekend. You know what makes you feel like a frumpy hag? Discussing body fat percentage and cholesterol levels with said friend.

If given the chance to see Willie Nelson live, do it. Even if you aren't a huge fan or whatever. I was fortunate enough to see him at a small venue, which I think always enhances the exeperience, don't you? Anyway, I have fond memories of listening to his music with my dad on long car rides as a wee girl. It was funny how many of the songs I knew, and he did some pretty fantastic covers of other classics. Plus, the man can jam! Seriously, he wails.

Three

2009-01-15T07:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Evan,

You are three years old today. If you would kindly stop growing and remain at this sweet, funny, innocent, kind, still-OK-with-hugging-me-in-public stage of life, that would be great. This is in your best interest if you'd like the piggyback rides to continue.

Since stopping time isn't an option, I guess I should come to terms with the fact that you are growing and changing every day. I hate that I'm not as geographically close to you anymore, but it makes for interesting visits. You have new favorite phrases, new games, and new songs to show off and it's like meeting a whole new kid. A very easy-going kid - thank God. As high strung as I was, Dad deserves one laid back child. Your sense of humor is apparent: you love to laugh and are so pleased when you make us laugh, too. Sure, a lot of your material is potty-based, but who doesn't appreciate a good poop joke?

You cannot possibly understand how loved you are, or how excited we are to be your family. This last year has brought nothing but exciting changes and growth and wonderful memories. Each year has been better than the previous one, and I can't wait for the adventures you will take us on in 2009.

Happy Birthday, Bubba.

Love,
Sissy

Yes, this picture is a little old, but it's my favorite of you.

Happy Birthday Nikki! aka "Bitch, you asked for it!"

2009-01-14T10:08:00.000-08:00

Interweb, I totally screwed up. Yesterday was the birthday of a friend. She had expressed some...not-so-happy feelings about said birthday and I figured a shout-out would be as welcome as an open-handed slap in the mouth. How wrong I was! Nikki and I met through Boy Chris at the Vegas bachelor party and sat across from each other at dinner. An all-you-can-eat-meat dinner, where I made a complete and utter pig of myself. If she was horrified, she didn't show it. And we all know that a requirement to roll with CKD is the ability to hide your disgust at my eating habits.

Nikki's sarcasm is like a verbal bitch slap. I mean this in the best possible way.

Nikki can handle a car full of drunk morons at the In-n-Out drive-thru trying to place orders all at the same time without murdering all of us and dumping the bodies.

Nikki's reaction when a couple of aforementioned drunk morons spill a milkshake in the car? A nonchalant, "It's OK. This is my sister's car."

Nikki is on Team Get CKD to Move to Pasadena and has offered invaluable advice to put that plan into action.

Nikki never judges my immature giggling at the word "balls" and does not roll her eyes when I scream "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!" She kind of encourages it, and it's nice to have a partner in idiocy.

Nikki, for all of her smart-assedness (Is that word? We'll say it is, sure.) is usually the first one to respond to an SOS when I'm feeling down. Especially if this is expressed via Facebook because sweet Jesus, that girl is ALWAYS ON FACEBOOK. And yes, this is the pot calling the kettle "addicted."

Nikki's pride in her alma mater, Boston College, should grant her status as official spokesperson or something. Except I'm pretty sure if someone questioned its awesomeness she'd just punch him or her in the neck. But come on - wouldn't you kind of want to see THAT?

Have an amazing day (well, day AFTER your birthday) and a fantastic year. And don't even try to tell me you're off the booze.

Birthday Girl on the far right, lookin' damn sassy with Kristie and Cappa.

Just Send Stacy and Clinton and We'll Call It Good

2009-01-13T08:05:00.000-08:00

Living and working in Chico - particularly at my place of employment - means enjoying a casual life. Maybe too casual. I took a look at myself in the mirror last week and realized, "Sweet Jesus, woman! You have been wearing the same jeans-Old Navy t-shirt-casual shoes-type of outfit for months now! Pull yourself together!" So CKD is trying to have herself a little fashion revolution here...or at least step it up a bit and dress like a grown woman who has a job.

Here's where the plan hits a snag: I am not one of those effortlessly put-together Pretty Ladies whose hair is always in place. And I've tried to rock the tousled bedhead look and have wild, crazy waves and the effect is not so much "Gisele" as it is "hobo." Stabbin' crazy hobo at that. And while I love make up and products, I tend to stick in the neutral range and play it safe. I also do not have oodles of cash to throw at JCrew and Anthropologie, so this new plan needs to happen using what Mama's got in her closet. But I see this as a fun challenge and am excited to get creative. Well as creative as one can be when you own as many black tops as I do. Really, someone should stage an intervention the next time I buy a black shirt. My mom will host it and serve snacks.

If this is going to happen, it's going to need to be baby steps. Because if I try to do some sort of massive, dramatic head-to-toe overhaul I'm going to freak myself out and lose confidence and that sort of defeats the purpose.

Yesterday and today have involved small but noticeable steps towards dressing up a bit without looking ridiculous, and I feel like it is helping to differentiate me from our student workers around here. (Not that they aren't adorable, what with their smooth skin and shiny hair, but one reaches a point where it's ridiculous to dress like a 19 year-old.) And since 2009 is gearing up to be a year of big, fabulous changes it seems like I should have the fabulous look to go with it.

So, Interweb and Pretty Ladies out there...any advice for the fashion-retarded?

Happy Birthday Kelly! aka "Do you have any jellybeans?"

2009-01-12T07:50:00.000-08:00

So young! So innocent! Merry Christmas, December 1995.

Kelly and I have provided hours of entertainment and acted as alibis for each other since 1989. We met as goofy tweens in the 6th grade at St. Joseph's, moved on to high school together and were even freshman year roomies at the Puge. So, yeah... we've seen each other through some stuff. And by "stuff" I mean questionable hairstyles, boyfriends, and fashion choices. But through it all we can count on each other for support and a road trip to cure all. On the surface we have little in common. She's tall, I'm short. She's athletic, I sometimes walk without falling down. She's a little bit country, I'm a little bit rock-n'-roll. For some reason these things just don't matter and seem to add to our bond.

Kelly is possibly the only other person I've ever met who could rival my enthusiasm in the boy-craziness area during junior high and high school. And maybe even now? (Kidding, Duane. Uh, dude, you may not want to read parts of this.)

Kelly is an excellent wingwoman. (Seriously, Duane, this would be a good point for you to turn away.) She is quick with the opening icebreaker, an excellent flirt without being inane, and never cockblocks.

Kelly tried to talk me out of purchasing my Doc Marten boots, and failed. But she never gave me shit once I did and wore them every day of sophomore year of high school. However, I'm pretty sure she was secretly relieved when I started switching it up and quit dressing like I was on my way to a Pearl Jam concert every day.

Kelly is a country music fan and expanded my musical horizons by introducing me to some of her favorite artists. And you know what? I like some of it. There, I said it. Some of our best memories are from concerts I never would have attended had it not been for her nudging me out of my grunge-bubble.

Kelly loves Aerosmith, too, and our soundtrack from the summer of 1994 features them heavily. So, you know, she's a reasonable gal.

Kelly and I took a road trip to LA right after high school graduation. We had been planning it for four years, and it felt like such a grown-up person thing to do. We went to Disneyland, which was not the most grown-up thing to do. Basically, the perfect bridge between high school and college life.

Kelly has a horrible memory. She often asks me about someone's name, or a date, or what happened when. It's tempting to mess with her, but I don't. You're welcome, Belles.

Kelly lived with me for a year, during a time when I was...how do I put this? A complete and utter pain to be around. She managed not to throttle me and still takes my calls. This may be where the horrible memory plays in my favor.

Kelly has an awesomely patient boyfriend who will go out to dinner with us and listen while we blab non-stop back-and-forth and rattle off inside jokes. (Hi Duane! You can read this part!)

Kelly will do anything for her friends and family if it means it will improve their lives even slightly. From the practical (like a ride to the airport) to the emotional (holding your hand and doing a good luck chant/dance) she will step up. Always.

Belles, I have loved every minute riding shotgun and cooking up goofy schemes with you (Messing with Matt's car? Genius! Until we were caught.) and talking about real plans for our futures. This is going to be a great birthday, a great year and I look forward to celebrating many more with you!

South Beach Diet: Not Making Me Homicidal, Surprisingly

2009-01-08T13:46:00.000-08:00

Shocker: I hate being told what to do. This is a reason I am no good at "diets" and gained weight on Weight Watchers (30 points a day? Fuck you, I'm gonna eat 31.). Plus, the idea that eating an assload of bacon is OK but a salad is evil just seems idiotic.

This may be why I am not losing my shit over the South Beach Diet.

Without boring you, let me just say that it's not about anything being bad or forbidden forever and ever. I'm basically eating everything I like and would normally have. There are some minor modifications, like no bread with dinner and I'm not having pasta five times a week. Yes, I loves me some pasta and I miss it a little, but a little variety and eating more protein isn't killing me. Oh, and I can still have my morning coffee. I'm supposed to be abstaining from booze for two weeks, but I may have had a glass of wine with dinner. Shut up, I had, like, 2 drinks total from Christmas through New Year's.

Is anyone else cracking up over the fact that I am talking about diets and balanced meals? The girl who has spent much of her life with cookie crumbs on her shirt and Dorito fingers IS TALKING ABOUT GETTING ENOUGH PROTEIN. Take a moment to laugh. I did. And don't worry, I'm not saying YOU should do this, or that this is for everyone, but I knew I needed to make some changes and I'm excited that I already feel (look?) better. Also, I solemnly vow in front of God and the Interweb that I will not be one of those people who talks about her "diet" or refuses to eat out or enjoy a dinner party. I hate those people, don't you?

My Favorite Things 3: So You're Feeling Broke, Eh?

2009-01-07T09:18:00.000-08:00

Seems like most people I know (including myself) have resolved to be a bit more mindful of the finances in 2009. Not uncommon to vow to cut back on the spending right after the holidays, and a lot of us are scaling back on the luxuries in the wake of recession talk and layoffs. But sometimes we need a pick-me-up especially when things are sucky. There are ways to look and feel fabulous without completely depriving yourself. Here are some of the things that help this girl with the champagne taste live the high life on a Pabst Blue Ribbon budget.

Shopping options are limited around here, people, so don't be shocked that everything I buy is from either Target or Trader Joe's.

Side note to the fellas in the house: scroll down to the bottom for something that might interest you. Unless, you know, you care about cosmetics or want to surprise a lady in your life with something fun. Whatevs.

Cover Girl LipSlicks: I know, I know, right? Cover Girl LipSlick? Are we getting ready for the 7th grade dance? Hear me out. Holly Burns over at Nothing But Bonfires turned me onto this stuff in "Daring" and I figured that if I hated it, I was out $3.50 and could always give it to a friend. I have been pleasantly surprised and pleased: natural pink shade with a little shine, doesn't dry out my lips, and I don't have to order it online or trek to a city to find it at Sephora. In fact, I am wearing it right now and damn it if I don't look fantastic. Plus, dude, it's only $3.50!

Maybelline Superstay: Round 2 of "CKD Finds Something Cool Due to Obsessive Reading of Strangers' Blogs and Oh Look! It's Another Goddamn Lipstick Because You Can Never Have Too Many, Right?" I've always wanted to be able to pull off red lipstick but thought that my pasty Irish farmer girl looks meant that was a no-go. Then Maggie Mason of Mighty Goods recommended this stuff in "Wine" and I thought, "Hey, she's kinda pale and has red hair too. Maybe..." Skeptical that a.) I could pull off the red and b.) a $9.49 tube of lipstick would really, truly, seriously last all night, I went for it and am in LOVE. OK, maybe not LOVE but I'd let this stuff get to second base on the first date, no question. I had to scrub and use make-up remover to get it off, so yeah, it really, truly, seriously lasts all night. It does dry out your lips a little, but for under $10 you can get yourself some chapstick, right?

Trader Joe's Purify Tangerine Sugar Scrub: Hot damn, kids, this stuff kicks the ass of all the "fancy" exfoliators and scrubs out there. Trader Joe's never fails to please, and this is no exception. A little bit of this $6.49 miracle scrub goes a long way, which means a tub will last you a long time. A lot of people like salt scrubs, but this delicate flower finds them a bit too harsh. Sugar scrubs smell better (in my opinion) and do the job just as well. (I hear Trader Joe's makes a good salt scrub, too, so if you are a fan of those, give it a whirl. I mean, I'm not the boss of you.) I still have to use lotion since my skin is crazy-dry but you "normal" types could probably forgo that extra step.

Cal Java Coffee: If you bring in your own mug, a cup of coffee at Cal Java costs $1.60. Most days I make my own at home, but every once in awhile I like to go in, chit-chat with the girls behind the counter, and allow Coffee Guy to slip me some extra banana bread (not a euphemism, unfortunately). Speaking of, a moment of silence: this is Coffee Guy's last week at Cal Java and he is moving to Hawaii at the end of the month. CKD is crestfallen, but will soldier on. OK, yes, back to the coffee: $1.60 (and unlimited free refills if you hang out) feels like a small price to pay for some caffeinated goodness and fantastic company. What? No Cal Java near you? Go find your own local roaster to support. I'm betting it will be cheaper AND better than one of the 27 Starbucks in your neighborhood.

Charles Shaw Wine: With the economy in the toilet, we're gonna need some booze, right? As a cheapskate and total lush, I love this stuff. Living in San Francisco, land of the overpriced cocktail and wine snobs, meant that I had to find ways to enjoy some booze without blowing my food and drink budget to hell. Enter Two Buck Chuck. Honorable mentions to Yellow Tail and Barefoot for other low-priced wine options.

Didn't You See Zoolander?

2009-01-06T08:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Brain Trust,

The "NO SMOKING" signs are not just a suggestion: you're not supposed to pump gas with a lit cigarette in your mouth. I don't care what you do to yourself, but my morning plans did not include being blown up.

Best,
CKD

Fighting for the Right to Party Since 2006

2009-01-05T08:27:00.000-08:00

Me: "What do you want to do for your birthday?"

Evan: "I want to CELEBRATE it!" (tiny fist pump in the air)

Nice to see the "party" gene hasn't skipped him.

New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-01T21:43:00.000-08:00

I rarely do the whole New Year's Resolution thing. I mean, I know I'll work out or refrain from saying "fuck" for like a week and then it's back to the same old lazy, foul-mouthed girl you all know and love. So, I don't really bother to make empty promises I cannot keep.

But this year maybe I'll try a few things.

-Don't shriek "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID! THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!" every single time a phrase with the words "balls," "nuts," or "do" is uttered in my presence. See also "sausage," "meat," and "box."

-Think before answering "your mom" every time someone asks what I'm doing (or eating, in some really special, classy circumstances). And if I do choose to reply that way, don't be so shocked when the other person isn't amused.

-Dial down the Tina Fey, especially here. I'm probably on some sort of FBI watch list.

-Set aside time to visit relatives and friends around the country. Oklahoma, Arizona, Washington, North Carolina, and Missouri, here I come! Oh, and Tennessee, New York, Colorado, Illinois, Ohio, Oregon...

-Leave the country. For a vacation, not in an "on-the-lam" sort of way.

-Don't get the shit kicked out of me. This applies to bar fights, my health and matters of the heart.

-Oh, fine...let's just throw in try to work out regularly and cool it with the swearing.

The Year in Review

2008-12-31T17:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-26T14:20:00.000-08:00

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!"

2008-12-25T10:25:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-12-24T15:19:00.000-08:00

Have a happy holiday, Interweb!

No Excuse Really

2008-12-23T13:27:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-22T12:48:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-20T15:49:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-19T11:44:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-19T08:22:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-16T19:25:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-16T09:04:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-12-11T08:28:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-10T07:51:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-08T14:34:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-06T14:23:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-05T11:00:00.001-08:00

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

2008-12-05T08:43:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-04T09:05:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-03T14:53:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-02T07:40:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-01T11:04:00.000-08:00

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!"

2008-11-28T09:26:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-26T08:09:00.000-08:00

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...

2008-11-25T15:08:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-25T07:54:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-11-24T13:19:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-23T21:10:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-11-21T13:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-21T08:50:00.000-08:00

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"

2008-11-20T08:15:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-20T07:53:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-19T08:15:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-17T19:19:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-16T19:27:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-15T09:32:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-14T13:58:00.000-08:00

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'...

2008-11-13T08:11:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-12T20:14:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-12T09:31:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-11T15:08:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-11-10T07:51:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-08T12:07:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-07T16:06:00.000-08:00

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

The Great Yogurt Incident of 1988

2008-11-06T07:55:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-05T15:12:00.000-08:00

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.