30

whatever the f.

per my previous post, i couldn't bear to have the last post of the month end with 29, so i had to think of something else to write about.

i got it!

how about, when you get an ultrasound on wednesday, 10.25, and your doctor calls you on 10.27 eod and leaves a vm that your results are in: not too worrisome, but we should talk about it, and have a nice weekend! of course you worry all weekend about it. you call back at 8am on the dot on 10.30 and leave a message. at 10.30 eod you give it one last try and when you hang up to no answer you see that a vm has just popped on your screen. and that message is from the doctor so you just crossed signals and missed her call because you were busy trying to reach your doctor as she was inconveniently trying to reach you. so you wait with bated breath until 10.31 and again call your doctor at 8am and leave yet another message to call you back at the end of the day. and it is 10.31, way past eod, and you realize she will not be calling today and tomorrow you get to start this unhappy cycle all over again.

my life is sweet, isn't it? it's just the tops!

ert

i am not in the mood today.

some days, i write two posts. today, i can barely eke out one.

here is my rant of the day:

i have the last week in december off. completely off. if you knew me, you would know that this is a rare, wonderfully rare, event.

i am ecstatic about it.

i constantly think about how great it will be: no work for one whole week. zero. none. nada. zilch. i will be chumpless for one week at the end of a very. long. year.

i will be turning the ripe age of 29 this year. i will not grow old gracefully. i will kick and scream into the last year of my twenties.

i love the holiday season. i love the christmas spirit. i love holiday cards. i love giving presents. i love fireplaces. i love the smell of cinammon in the wintertime.

and when i ask the bf if we will be spending the last week of the year together? hold your breath.

i get the feeling that there are plans. great plans. fabulous, magical plans. why wouldn't there be? it is a fantastic time of year! hang out with loved ones! laugh and spend time together! love and cuddle!

except i really don't think the bf's plans include me.

deal or no deal

the value of my dowry has increased.

my parents took me to a bmw dealership on saturday afternoon.

we sat with dylan the car dealer, and talked shop.

when dylan stepped away for a moment, i turned to my mom and asked, 'why are we still here?'

my mom said, 'we want to get you a car.'

wha...

and then she said (wait for it...):'actually, we were thinking that when you get married we will give you a car as a wedding gift.'

what?!

did that just happen? have my parents finally given me an ultimatum? get married or no car?! how is this possible? what planet are we on?

do my parents think that a car is the only thing that will get me to the altar? how well do they know their only daughter? who do they think they are? i cannot be bought! i do not have a price!

er.... i think i'll hold out for a house.

boo

i decided to forgo the conceptual costume and go simple this year.

last year i was fergie from the black-eyed peas, during her scandalous "wet crotch" stage performance. special was going to be tara reid and her infamous strap dropping boob debacle, and e was going to be janet jackson and the mother of all wardrobe malfunctions. together we would be a rocking trio of celebrity embarassments.

except.

2005 halloween quote: "nobody gets what i am! my crotch is wet and i am uncomfortable! next year i am going to be a f*cking bee!"

and so, this year, i am a bee. damn it.

well, was a bee. on saturday night britney spears and i trolled the downtown streets in search of a gorilla and three mouseketeers. we found them at harvey's and danced until a troupe of slutty baseball players threatened our spot on the floor and one of the mouseketeers "accidentally" spilled beer on them. the night pretty much ended when the same mouseketeer wound up and punched the gorilla in the balls.

britney and i departed and headed over to bootleggers, waited in line for 15 minutes. danced the night away.

good times. i like being a bee.

bnw

s told me another theory of two kinds: more flexible and less spontaneous or more spontaneous and less flexible.

spontaneous: adj., having an open, natural, and uninhibited manner
flexible: adj., ready and able to change so as to adapt to different circumstances

ooh! me! me!

definitely, without a doubt, less flexible.

the bf? as laid back as can be.

spontaneity? bring it on!

the bf? not so impulsive.

however, the bf hates being pigeonholed without consent, and therefore, had a surprise evening for us on friday night. :) adorable, planned, spontaneity.

we ended up at the brave new workshop, guaranteed laughs. i love him for taking me there. and i love him for him.

whim

i like shopping.

i like shopping a lot.

and this is just about the coolest clock i have ever seen.



what? it is totally a clock! and i love it!

hearty

on most days, i buy a croissant.

when you become a regular at certain places, the people learn to know you.

there is a flaming redheaded girl (or purpleheaded, depending on the color of the dye that changes with the color of her mood) and a lightly carrotheaded boy.

they are both lovely to talk to in the mornings.

one day, the boy said to me, "i saw you walking by this morning, and you were carrying boxes. if i were that guy i would have carried them for you."

sigh. just like soup on a cold day.

ultrasound

is a scary word. when you are not pregnant and there is no cute baby to see.

when doctors cannot figure out what is wrong with you, and you have to have an ultrasound because they have run tests and supposedly everything is fine.

so you lie on that table, and when they touch you it feels uncomfortable, but when they touch that spot it feels unbearable.

and you know that you have to be there, because throwing up because of the pain is not okay.

you do what they ask of you, nicely, politely, and you tell them that you haven't felt pain like that before.

you pee in that cup, you whimper and feel humbled because you have done it so many times.

and now the ultrasound. because they don't know what's going on. this morning, 7:15am.

you strip down and wear a gown. you bite your lip to keep from crying.

you lay down on the table and keep your heels on while they put jelly on your abdomen and tell you that your uterus is tipped.

they have to use the probe to get different pictures, and this feels like a violation so you try to breathe and think of something else.

it lasts longer than it should. one more minute and you think you might scream. you think of your boyfriend sitting in the waiting room and want him to be near you, to have someone familiar close by.

and afterwards, the radiologist tells you that he spotted something on your right ovary. you freeze.

nest

the bf and i are going to check out international market square on saturday, to prep for its upcoming sample sale.

he always has some home project going on.

when we spotted the bathrooms at the walker art center, he had to have it. the next day i went over to his house. the shower was ripped out and he was already tearing down the sheetrock behind it. now his bathroom has black walls and black and white checkered tile. it is beautiful. and he did it all himself. sigh. i love the blue-collar in him.

i always try to make helpful suggestions like, "why don't you take your shirt off while you work?"

the bf, i believe, is nesting.

ahem.

these days he has moved on. he is obsessing about his kitchen now; his home dreams are filled with slate flooring and cherry cabinets. expensive. to create the illusion of space he will probably eliminate some cabinets and put up easy shelving. i love that idea: pare down your dishes because everything is on display. simple and elegant.

i cannot wait to see his new nest.

nostril love

in humans the nasal cycle is the normal ultradian cycle of each nostril's blood vessels becoming engorged in swelling, then shrinking. during the course of a day they will switch over approximately every four hours or so. [wikipedia]

in addition to being entertaining, this blog is also educational!

the bf and i have a new love litmus.

i told him the aforementioned fact and then placed a finger under each nostril to figure out which one was being used. lefty. i did the same to me. righty. we were so broken up.

some time later, he placed a finder under my nostrils. righty. he was also utilizing righty. i claimed, "baby, we are in love again!"

i'm glad we can figure out if we love each other via our anatomical cues. how else would we know?

exhale

sometimes, i think, i don't know anything about you.

but then i think that i know everything that is important for me to know about you.

and i rest easier.

daddy

today is my dad's birthday.

my parents are both libras.

my dad is the balance i relate to.

and despite his short temper, limited patience, workaholicism, obsessive compulsion, and dirty jokes*...

i still think my dad hung the moon.

so tonight, the bf and i will trek down to rochester to celebrate his charm, pride, wit, impishness, and dirty jokes.

*classic dad story: @ target, my dad held up a box of contraceptives and asked, "do you need these?! you better not!"
my retort, after grabbing a pack of pregnancy tests: "no, but i might need these!"

gotta love it. happy birthday, d.

remember that episode of friends when ross told mona he didn't think they were ready to do holiday cards together?

hello. flash to reality. welcome to my life.

i approached the idea with trepidation, even though in reality i love the idea of holiday cards and asking someone to share that with me is kind of a big deal.

the answer was not so much "we're not ready" as it was "i don't think people should do cheesy photo cards unless they are married."

no means no.

the silver lining? if there are holiday cards that we need to send to mutual acquaintances, friends, or family, that would be okay. how fabulous. i take that to mean that i will be writing out said cards and he would be happy to sign his name, but just as happy to have me sign his name.

and so, in the truest sense of the holiday spirit, i sighed, "okay."

what's next? something more than a mixed tape but less than a key to his house?

grease

babies, mama can bake after all!

i made "easy" apple crisp last night.

the bf's mom sent over a basket of apples. the boys have been going at 'em fast and furious, but there was a small gift bag full for me. what to do, what to do? i don't eat apples to the core, the acid plays with my mouth and makes me itchy and uncomfortable.

so i decided to make apple crisp.

pretty simple: white cake mix, brown sugar, butter, cinnamon. crumble over sliced apples.

bake for 50 minutes.

as soon as the i shut the oven door, before my silent gasp of delight, the bf asks, "you got everything? you didn't need to grease the pan?"

stifled gasp.

"it didn't say that i needed to": the words were out of my mouth as i quickly scanned the recipe and there it was in step 1: lightly grease a 9 x 13 baking dish.

SQUEAL

why didn't i see it? is there some kind left brain/right brain issue when it comes to reading recipes? there is just. too. effing. much. per step.

anyway. it's a damn good apple crisp. ungreased pan notwithstanding.

lasers

after we send out creative to the client, we always have to send a set of lasers.

lasers, a fancy, technical term for color copies.

ooh.

i had four sets of lasers to be couriered to the client. four envelopes ready to go. four slick mailing labels named and addressed.

ready. to. go.

i went back to my desk after being sidetracked. spotted the envelopes. sealed each one. stacked with satisfaction.

marched up to the front desk to have them delivered.

and that, was that. hmph. with a contented smirk on my face, i walked back to my office, a fancy, technical term for cube.

on my desk? four sets of lasers stared back at me.

counting

i didn't have it in me to write anything yesterday.

oh, just one of those days.

today is a new day.

i went over to see s last night. she was baking for a friend. he was diagnosed with cancer. she saw him that day and wanted to do something for him. so she baked him cookies: lovely, cakey cookies with orange juice frosting. she put her heart into them, and then said he probably wouldn't be able to taste them because of the metallic effects of chemotherapy.

i told her they will probably be the best cookies he has tasted in a while.

because sometimes, it's not the what, but the why, that counts.

classic bf

we made tacos last night.

with tomatoes, lettuce, salsa, and avocados.

in true us fashion, we forgot the cheese.

still, i delighted in the preparation and our teamwork. and by preparation i mean mine and by teamwork i mean my work.

the best part came after dinner when we were relaxing on the sofa, drinking in the ridiculousness of desperate housewives and brothers and sisters. the bf doesn't have a television at his house, and thus is rarely addicted to such escapist dramas.

during the latter show, the bf looked at me and quite seriously asked, "is this even realistic?"

gloves

the bf brought me a present from london.

they are black, suede, with a tiny bling detail.

i love them.

not because he bought them for me, but because i recall telling him that this year, i was going to treat myself to a pair of nice gloves. this year, i was going to replace the cashmere banana republic gloves that i lost in new mexico with a nice, grown-up pair of gloves. this year, i was going to protect my hands from the bitter dryness of winter and cracked knuckles. this year would be an ode to sophie's hands with love from new gloves.

i love them because he remembered.

friday

the 13th.

i hate scary movies. when i watched the others i had nightmares for months. i do not like the supernatural freaky stuff either. everyone in my family loves scary movies, but i can't stand them. they wanted to see texas chainsaw massacre: the beginning this weekend and i almost peed my pants just thinking about it.

when we were little my parents told us that we couldn't watch a particular movie. said movie was conveniently placed on top of their vcr. 'rents left to run an errand, leaving my bro and me on our own...to watch the movie. we giggled and popped it in, eyes riveted. 2 minutes of some mask-wearing chainsaw-bearing madperson chasing someone around a kitchen table and it was over for me, my heart beating so fast i couldn't figure out what was happening. that movie? texas chainsaw massacre.

so have your happy friday the 13th and watch your scary movies. me? i want to watch cartoons and drink bubbly and eat cake.

i figure that since everything else has been backwards for the bf and me, today will be especially lucky for us.

famous....last.....words.

about

me.

1. whenever i see a purple bachmans truck, i almost always assume that someone is sending me flowers. even if that truck is nowhere near me nor even remotely headed in my direction.

2. i am afraid of stepping onto escalators, as my sense of balance is not the greatest. i don't know what is wrong with my equilibrium, but escalators are like this shifting precipice that i am unable to conquer. i find myself looking down and trying to catch the rhythm of the steps before i allow myself to take one shaky step.

3. "dining obsession" is an understatement for me. i love knowing about the new it restaurant in town and will not rest until i've been there, done that, told my friends about it. i read dara moskowitz religiously even though i am emphatically against critics. places on my list: 112eatery, la belle vie, chambers kitchen.

snow! happy flipping october.

boo

in an email to the bf, i wrote:

"for halloween, i would like to be a bee. i would like you to consider being a flower."

he wrote back: "i'm actually not entirely against the flower idea. it depends on how it's executed. let me see what you have in mind."

execute this:

happy birthday mama

it is my mother's birthday today.

i woke up this morning with a note under my door that said, "don't forget about mom's birthday!"

because we have a tradition regarding birthdays.

we all race to call the night before, preferably as close to midnight as possible.

sometimes, i am first. sometimes, we call someone else in the hopes of distracting them so they are unable to call the birthday person. sometimes, we call ten minutes before and stay on the phone with each other until midnight.

last night, i dropped the ball. i went to bed at 11:30p, exhausted. i called my mother this morning, at 7:30am. i woke her up. happy birthday wishes. and she told me that i was the last one.

sad. i really, really hate losing.

secret

"you can talk to me about anything."

except, when i can't.

i know that i want to be with you. i know that you are my best friend. i know you.

and yet.

i don't know that we can talk to each other about everything.

i know it's because i am scared. i feel like i can be myself with you. and be open. and let you in.

you asked me once if i was going to let you love me. i am trying. it is dizzying. and terrifying. and amazing. in one moment.

but really, when i told you i miss you today, my heart jumped. when i tell you i love you, my heart swells. loving you is the easy part. it is the rest that scares me.

all i need to do is ask. sometimes, the right question can be difficult to shape. before i know it, the moment has passed, and there is nothing left for me to mull over, and i am left with empty questions and absent answers. my mouth a silent 'o'.

"there is a part of you that i can't touch."

maybe so. but i can tell you that i want you to touch every part of me, and i want you to know me. i feel like i've given you everything i can, and i want to give you everything.

because i am yours. and i wonder if you are mine.

hot air

albuquerque. new mexico. international hot air balloon fiesta.

in a word: serendipitous.

in a couple more: amazing. awesome.

and i'm not just describing sex with the bf.

we arrived at midnight on friday. we had a car rental reserved for $69/day. we upgraded to a chrysler 300c. hot.

we drove to our hotel, exhausted and ready to sneak in a bit of sleep before we had to get up for mass ascension at the fiesta. alas, the hotel was overbooked: get thee back in the car to another hotel, with no guarantee of availability for saturday night. slim to none.

sleep. 5.5 hours later, my hateful phone alarm rings. 6:30am. miracles happen. we are on the road by 7am. we park. we walk a mile to the balloon fiesta park.

we stop. and look. and wonder. i am amazed at how huge the balloons are, how everyone suddenly turns into a kid again, and how i can't stop smiling. the bf and i walk among them and try to drink it all in. there are not nearly the 700 i dreamed of, but enough to woo me.

we have a breakfast burrito. cherry lemonade. turkey leg. cinna cup.

we head back to the hotel. no rooms for us. we somehow get our friday night room comped. another hotel. an executive suite. we drive to new hotel. look around. the bf asks if i want to stay or go home. i look at him and will him to be less tired, for things to work out, to just be together and have fun. i tell him i want to stay.

we go to old town and walk around galleries, san felipe neri church.

i walk with the bf and bask in the serendipity. my dream? check.

out

thank you for the visit.

if you are reading this, i am en route to new mexico, on my way to a hotel just secured last night and a rental car reserved this morning. i will probably be tipping back major drinks on el plane to drown the memories of today's daily grind. i will be having lots of sex this weekend and too busy appropriately feeling like a woman to care about anything other than me, the bf, and 700 fricking hot air balloons.

love,
sophie

maltesers

the bf came back yesterday.

he surprised me at the shop and guess what? he got me 6 bags of maltesers! best. boyfriend. ever.

my favorite treat from england. they have these cooled vending machines in london, and by goodness, if i didn't get myself at least 3 packs a week. addicting. cold chocolate. mmm.

i'm not a huge chocolate fan, but at certain times of the month (see 10.03.06 post) i need it. but more importantly, i have already eaten two bags of maltesers. i will have to carefully ration the last four to last for a while. other chocolate favourites include: chocolate hazelnut truffle cake @ zeno, sixlets, whatchamacallits, chocolate flourless cake @ tejas, chocolate chocolate cupcake @ turtle bread, and mini chips ahoys.

it is certainly a cold chocolate day.

red

omg.

all i can tell you about this morning is that i was in the bathroom for twenty minutes alternating between frantically dabbing my light grey pants with water and patting them dry, hoping for the love of everything that there will be no telltale signs that i, of all people, am a frigging woman who is currently not pregnant.

get it before it sets! get it before it sets!

i mean, what the f? i come to work all innocent-like, all the while my body is planning to play this cruel joke on me. and on a day that i have a client meeting. of course. cripes almighty, control yourself.

wild scenarios raced across my mind as i contemplated a) running to my car to drive home and change b) running to the gap to buy new pants and c) staying in the bathroom and calling in sick. i closed my eyes. i thought of better places, better avenues of escape, better anything.

then, a light came down and cleared my head. blink blink. everything happened in slow motion as the spots gave way to light grey. exhale.

and all was right with the world.

sweetheart

wow! the bf loves me so much that he had cup lids printed with his special nickname for me!

it is sooo sweet that he is letting me know that he loves me all the way from the uk!

sweetest gesture ever. giggle.

classic bf

once upon a time, the bf told me to download a song.

i did. i listened to it.

it was a girl like you by pete yorn.

i called him instantly.

"baby! i got it! does it make you think of me?"

"no, you don't have green eyes."

"so you told me to download a song that doesn't make you think of me?"

perfect.

vows

every sunday, i read the vows column in the new york times.

it's one of my girlie pleasures.

every week, i read about two people finding each other, falling in love, and beginning a life together.

the column gives me hope, makes me believe in happily ever after. despite my baggage, i have vivid dreams that my heart will feel whole.

my baggage. it hurts me to think about. i yearn for the days when i looked love in the eye and wasn't afraid. i wanted it. i wanted more than anything to love someone with my whole heart. with all of myself. and i did. and then a part of my heart broke and i thought i would never feel that way again.

today, i know that what i had was not a good love, but my heart's fabricated version of happiness. i knew better, i knew that nights crying myself to sleep and not wanting that life was not a good thing. but still my heart pressed on. and what i got out of it i didn't recognize until now.

i get to start over. i have been granted a second wish. a chance. another shot at a great love, one that is filled with everything i have ever wanted, everything i never even knew i needed. i could be that girl in the vows column, i could be the girl smiling as if that day will last forever.

and the bf, he makes me believe it could happen to me.