Monday, March 12, 2012

What's Up – The 2012 Edition

This blog has proven itself useful when it comes to remembering details.  For example, Spouse and I had a recent conversation about Fart Fishes, that, had I not taken the time to document, would have been lost forever.  Forever!  Can you imagine a Forever that doesn't include Fart Fishes?

Today I plan to play catch-up.  So, it is with pleasure and loads of sarcasm, that I present you with "What's Up – The 2012 Edition."  It's way random, which is altogether fitting because I'm way random.

Spouse got us new internet for Christmas.  He bought us a new modem and signed us up for more megabits and more megapieces.  Life has changed around here.  Downloads are lightning-quick, and streaming is (mostly) seamless. Oh, dearest, beloved internet, how I love you so.  I loved you so before the upgrade.  Now, however?  My love for you is down right lusty.  (No, I'm not into porn, so not that kind of lusty.  More of an information-at-your-fingertips kind of lusty.)

Speaking of streaming, streaming's the only way we watch TV.  We have ditched the cable and the dish, for the up-and-coming internet technology.  Lately, we're into that show Psych.  Holy smokes that's a funny one.  We are almost through season 5.  When we finish Season 5, we'll prolly go back to Season 1 and watch it all over again.  Watching TV shows after the fact is the only way to go... no wasted time on commercials.

Speaking of commercials, sometimes I miss the commercials.  Some commercials can be quite funny. Like this one:

'Cept I'm not going to post it because each youtube offering has loads of offended folks leaving F-bombs.  Come on... if you cannot make fun of yourself, life will cease to be fun.  Get it?  The only way to have fun is to make fun.  I think the F-bomb is lazy way to insult.  It lacks any and all creativity.  Like, if you feel the urge and/or need to tell someone to eff-off, there's got to be a clevererererer way to do it.   Like, you could say, "I was going to tell you to eff off but decided not to 'cause I'm way clevererererererer."

Speaking of F-bombs, I get lots of them in my line of work.  It's joyous.  I used to take it personally but have since decided that it's a lazy way to insult, and only people for which I need to be sorry use it when requesting help.  As if your effing adjectives and effing adverbs will procure a desire for me to assist you immediately.  As if.  Lemme give you a little hint.... "please" and "thank you" work wonders above and beyond eff'n thises or eff'n thats.

Speaking of my job, I've worked 55 days in a row.  Granted, they are not full days, but a day I can't jet nonetheless.  I had thought about taking a day off somewhere around day 40 but decided working that many days is fine fodder for bragging, and 60 days would be a nice, round, bragging number.  I will take a day off after I hit 60.  Something tells me that I'll be rearing for a full day off at day 60 and won't be able to do it... Or, that day 60 will roll around and I'll say, "Forget about 60! Let's go the whole season!"

Speaking of jets and days off, I've skied exactly once this year.   And it wasn't even a full day.  I'd really love to blame this on something, but honestly, I haven't had the desire.  Not a lot of snow has landed this year.  Also, the Yahoos aren't into it much and I cannot muster the cheerleading required to make them go.

Also speaking of jets and days off, Megan and Jessica talked me into running the NYC marathon again.  We wacky three have planned an inter-statial rendezvous.  Can't wait.

Speaking of Megan, she sent me these fun socks, they're anatomy socks.


Speaking of anatomy, then speaking of running, I'm injured.  Good grief it's about time.  I've been waiting for this to happen so that I can take some time off.  Kidding.  Totally kidding.  I'm going out of my mind.

Speaking of injury and pain, Yahoo #2 lost his third tooth.  He tugged on that thing for weeks, then finally allowed Spouse to yank it with pliers.  Strange.  You should see that kid get his teeth cleaned.  He cries and bawls like someone's jamming toothpicks under his finger and toenails.



Speaking of finger and toenails, I trimmed the Yahoo's nails today.  This is necessary for piano practice.

Speaking of piano practice, the Yahoo's piano teachers are moving to an as-of-yet unknown location.  Yahoo #1's teacher (Josh) has applied entry to the DMA program at many schools.  The closest school is in Cleveland, and the furthest (farthest?) is New York, I think. (Julliard...  funny how the Cleveland school is a better school, yet Julliard carries more weight among the non musically educated. Or so I've heard.  Also, DMA stands for Doctorate of Musical Arts or something like that.)  Since Yahoo #2's piano teacher is married to Yahoo #1's piano teacher (Lindsey) that means she moves too.  She has a DMA from the University of Utah.  She's fancy like that.  Also, drop-dead gorgeous.  Wow.

Speaking of Lindsey, the Rabid has made arrangements for piano lessons this summer.  At Yahoo #2's recital, I watched her play, and I watched her students play.  Right then I thought, "She's moving away.  What if they move away forever and I never have the chance to take lessons from her?!"  That's when I sweet-talked her into some summer schooling.

Speaking of schooling, I've been schooling myself about food, and more specifically, the origin of food. It all started with a mad dose of documentaries.  I watched King Corn, then Food, Inc. and a few others. I've since decided that the egg is the perfect food because it's loaded with protein and has minimal processing.  I've been eating a lot of eggs lately.  The trouble, however, is eggs can be pretty boring and I've had to look for recipes.  Shakshura is my favorite egg dish thus far.

Speaking of recipes, I've found Pinterest.  I don't use Pinterest to follow people... I really couldn't give a crap about what other people are surfing.   Pinterest is how I've decided to manage the muchiness of the Internet.  Sometimes the internet just has too much stuff.   Don't you think?  It's very muchy.  How do you harness this muchiness? Lemme tell ya: Pinterest.  I use Pinterest to organize stuff on the internet.  When I see something that I want to remember, something I really like – a Shakshura recipe for example – I pin it and classify. Pins are the ultimate internet bookmark.  All visual and stuff.

Speaking of the internet, Spouse got us new internet for Christmas.  He bought us a new modem and signed us up for more megabits and more megapieces.  Life has changed around here.


Jenn said...

We're becoming quite the 'whole foodies' around these parts, without the assistance of documentaries, even. And speaking of documentaries, have you seen "Happy"? Highly, highly recommend. Make the Yahoos watch it with you after they've complained about their lives in some way. Lovely, lovely film.

We are having Shakshura for dinner, so thanks for taking care of that for me. Have to cook the eggs, though. I'm against slimy food.


Jenn said...

Oops. Force of habit, "baci." A) A little intimate for somebody I've not actually met, and 2) Italian (for "kisses." See? Told you, intimate.) Please forgive.


rabidrunner said...

About the eggs in the Shakshura... I can't do runny eggs either and had to put the pan under the broiler for about five minutes to get them to cook all the way through (and I do mean ALL the way through.)

Also, eggs on pizza. It's terrific. We had that first in Paris. The French love eggs. (But you prolly knew that already, what with being a stones-through away 'n all.)

Baci Back Atcha!

rabidrunner said...

Through away? Throw. Geez.

Jessica said...

"inter-statial rendezvous"

It's gonna be 'mazing.

Jenn said...

Hmmmm. Eggs on pizza. Color me intrigued. I used to say I was a pizza purist, but when we lived in Italy, my Italian instructor berated me into trying one with arugula and Parmesan because I teased her about her 'salad pizza' one too many times. Now that's my favorite, so shows what I know. DH has become a spectabulous pizza chef in recent months, so perhaps we'll give eggs a try.


PS I'm sure the French prolly pronounce throw as 'through.' You're all good.