Scott Caan looks like a midget little person in this pic from the "Friends with Money" L.A. premiere:
Newest purchase, you know, for all the camping and outdoorsy activities I do?
It's pretty much exactly what I wanted. Yay for staying hydrated!
Lisa and I will be making a pilgrimage (it seemed only fitting to use that word given the post-Thanksgiving timing of this entry) here on Saturday.
Yes, more food this close to Thanksgiving, and yes, it's over 30 miles each way -- what of it?!
What sparked this seemingly sudden trip? If you know me, you know I loves me some Sonic, particularly their fresh fruit slushes (can I get an "Amen!" for lime?). But that's not what was the impetus for this trip.
My friend Matt called me on Saturday to brag that he was in line at Sonic. Jewels made a special phone call from Texas to inform me that she and her hubby were in line at Sonic.
Some friends, eh?
Come Saturday, a chicken sandwich with honey mustard and a lime slush will be mine.
And if I'm feeling particularly saucy, I may make that slush a large.
Oh, who am I kidding. It'll be large all the way.
For the third consecutive year I'm hosting Thanksgiving. It doesn't bother me much because my father does most of the cooking, I just have to clean the house, provide appetitzers (my family makes meals off of apps) and make a pie or two.
Our menu for this year will be different from years past: Cornish game hens, fresh crab, french-cut green beans, spring salad, dinner rolls, corn, garlic mashed potatoes, cranberries, stuffing and my pumpkin spice pie with fresh whipped cream.
This year I'm feeling a little of the proverbial holiday stress as my mother invited her brother, John, and her closest friend, Judy, to join us. She's known Judy since they were 12 years old, so it's pretty much like having family over.
Uncle John is a different story. He and my mother have never been close, and after his recent divorce he moved from Southern California up here, about 10 minutes away from my folks. In the 7 or so months he's lived up here, my mother has made repeated attempts to invite him places, but he never calls her back . Seriously. So when he called, conveniently, on Sunday after all these months of not returning phone calls, my mother asked me if I wouldn't mind setting an additonal place for Uncle John.
Despite my family's dysfunction, I still believe in "family first" and making people feel welcome, so I said of course he was invited. My mother called him back and asked what his Thanksgiving plans were, if he was headed down south to spend it with his sons. He said no, they already have plans, so he'd be sticking around here. So my mother said, "We're headed to B's for Thanksgiving, why don't you join us?" He did the "aw, shucks" routine and said he couldn't possibly invite himself.
Pshaw, says my mother to herself. Why the heck else would he call after 7 months, oddly coinciding with a holiday?!
Anwyay, I'm excited to have a few extra people over. I have a seemingly endless to-do list to prepare, but at least I got one major one out of the way yesterday: new dishes. I have a set that originally started with 8 place settings I've had for about 5 years and it's dwindling. I headed over to Crate & Barrel yesterday and picked out an inexpensive pattern and bought 10 settings. If had really planned ahead I would have gotten new flatware. Mine has definitey seen better days, and I'd love to have settings for 10 or 12. That'll be a purchase for another day, or maybe Santa will bring me it...
For those that celebrate it, have a Happy Thanksgiving!
You know winter is on it's way, even in it's mildest California form, when my daily 'fit changes from jeans, a t-shirt and flip-flops to jeans, a fleece and Pumas.
My father was in a car accident last week. He's okay, but his car had to be towed from the scene. My mother, upon hearing about said accident, shook her head and said,"Just last night I was telling him his tailgating is out of hand!"
While waiting for the highway patrol to show up, some guy on a motorcycle shows up and insists he's part of the three car accident (dad hit someone, that someone hit someone else). He waited for the CHP to show up before going into his sob story about how he slid on debris from the accident, which caused him to fall off his bike. The officer looks at him, looks at the apparent paint scratches on the bike, and waves the guy off, saying as a motorcyclist, he needs to be aware of potential debris on the road and handle his bike in a controlled manner to allow for this. The guy was furious, sputtering that my father's front license plate caused the accident, as it was ripped from the front of his car in the accident. At this point, my father gestures to his back seat and points out that he's already removed the license plate from the road, immediately after the accident (oddly enough, my father received a "fix it" ticket mere weeks before for failure to have a front license plate). This guy drives off, furious that he's not part of the accident, and the highway patrol officer takes the guy's license plate number and says he's going to include it in his accident report. (That really has nothing to do with anything, I just thought it was interesting.)
So anyway, the officer and my father get to talking, and my father asks him if he knows my cousin, also a CHP. Turns out, he and my cousin used to work together before she transferred further north when she and her girlfriend bought a house together (side bar: everyone in the family, except her parents, knows she's a lesbian. The CHP officer even asked how Patty's girlfriend was). So the officer offers to give my dad a ride to work, just a short jaunt from where the accident occurred. I cracked up at the mental image of Dad rolling into the parking lot in the back of a CHP car.
My father is heartbroken that his year-old car is now damaged goods. I'm sure the fact that he's driving around my work truck in all its nasty glory isn't doing much for his spirits, although if I have to hear him say one more time, "This truck has plenty of life in it!" (it has more than 210,000 miles on it). My mother says it's a good excuse for him to get the 7 series he cheaped out on and pass the 5 series on to me. I wouldn't object. I'm just glad he's safe, and maybe (maybe!) this'll learn him not to tailgate.
But who am I kidding.
I've been called for jury duty. I registered in this county when I became a homeowner, a change from the county my parents live in. I'd been called three times with my registration in their county, but never had to show up as my number wasn't called. Apparently, this county does things a tad differently than I'm used to. This county assigns you four days worth and service can be at one of seven different courthouses, the farthest one at least 45 minutes from my home. So when am I scheduled for jury duty?
(wait for it...)
December 26-29.
For those keeping score at home, I need to call or check online twice a day for each of those days to see if I need to serve my civic duty.
Starting the day after Christmas.
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: The West Your accent is the lowest common denominator of American speech. Unless you're a SoCal surfer, no one thinks you have an accent. And really, you may not even be from the West at all, you could easily be from Florida or one of those big Southern cities like Dallas or Atlanta. | |
| The Midland | |
| Boston | |
| North Central | |
| The Inland North | |
| Philadelphia | |
| The South | |
| The Northeast | |
| What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes | |
Today is a wonderful day. Why? Because I have it off. Not because it's the observed Veteran's Day holiday, but because if I didn't get the heck out of work at some point soon, heads were going to roll. Or some other such jazz.
So I asked for today off. This is huge for me, although it most likely will not make sense to anyone who: a) isn't employed by family, or b) doesn't have a guilt complex. I actually asked for last Friday off, and was politely declined, as the big boss had a huge meeting to go to and, as usual, my timing was off. That and I waited until Thursday to ask for it off. So we compromised, or rather, he said, "Why don't you take next Friday and Monday off instead?" Taking both days off seemed a little frivolous, but I jumped at the chance to have a day off and was absolutely giddy all week anticipating my three-day weekend.
What you have to understand is that, aside from taking vacation days, I've never, ever, taken a day off just to hang out. It feels odd, and I had all kinds of ideas on how to fill up my day by being out and about, then I realized there was so much to do at home. I've tackled projects this morning that have been on my "to do" list for ages, and it feels pretty darn good to have finished them.
It's also nice to realize that it's 2pm on a Friday and I only just took a shower.
My excuse for not having a rushed day is partly because this evening will inevitably lead itself to debaucherous activities in the celebration of her birthday, of which I am greatly looking forward to, and also keepin' it low-key in anticipation of.
Here's to a great weekend!
My spending this week has been out of control.
At the end of last week I was smarting to Jewels that I had been really good at saving and watching my spending, not eating out as much, etc.
I need to eat everything I said in that conversation, because, well, yeah -- there goes all that savings-related goodness.
I "treated myself" to a couple of things on eBay, including a hard-to-find fragrance. So even when I'm poor I'll stink good.
I had my eye on a jacket last year but couldn't justify buying it, as it doesn't really get cold enough here to wear something so insulating. But enter Sundance in January and I have a whole new excuse to buy something. So while I was in Palo Alto on Saturday, I made a stop at the North Face and found the same jacket I pined over last year:
I had the weirdest dream two nights ago.
I dreamt that we were preparing for nuclear war. My family was at our cabin and somehow my father got wind that NASA was allowing a small number of people to take shelter in their underground bunker, but we had to be dressed in a particular suit. This full body suit was white, and made of a Tyvek-type material (identical to the stuff worn in clean rooms in the tech industry). My sister refused to dress in said suit, and I remember feeling so angry with her, cause, duh -- it's a matter of life or death! I only had sandals but wearing the suits required wearing closed-toe shoes, so I grabbed my father's snow boots (I vividly remember this part, he's had this pair for as long as I can remember) and wore those. We raced to our next-door neighbor's house, which had magically become the NASA bunker (the morphing of locations/people always cracks me up in dreams) and we were locked in, safely awaiting what might come.
Then I realized I didn't have my cell phone on me, and I wanted to call my friends and, well, say goodbye, I guess, as morbid as it sounds. I panicked looking for said phone, and roamed the cavernous hallways of the NASA site until I found a payphone. I kept trying to call my friends (collect, mind you -- there were no pockets for money in my Tyvek suit!) but no one was answering.
The dream ended here, but I woke up in a panic. I wonder if any online dream interpreters could piece together the bits and pieces of this convoluted dream.
How to win a Halloween costume contest:
