Miss Minneapolis

Yep, I am Writing about Weddings and Babies. What has this blog come to?

2011-01-25T10:54:00.000-06:00

You know how a lot of brides complain that their husband-to-be won't help them with wedding planning? How you have to BEG him to do ANYthing wedding related? Yeah....that's not my problem. Paco has taken to wedding planning like a fish to water. I never imagined he'd have so many opinions on things like China patterns and cake designs, but he sure does.

A couple weeks ago we decided to register for wedding gifts. After we'd been out for dinner and each had 3 glasses of wine. Drunk(ish) registering is FUN, you guys! I'm not sure our sales associate agreed, but we really had a great time with it. You get those little guns and you just scan, scan, scan away! All the stuff you want - scan, scan, scan! The only problem with drunken registering is that the next day you look at your registry online and think "we wanted THAT?" And you have to sort of re-register all over again. We may have gotten a little trigger happy with the scanner gun is what I'm saying.

As it turns out, wedding planning is probably good practice for marriage. You have to compromise, combine finances and decide together how to allocate spending; you have to work together and try very, very hard not to murder each other. If that's not marriage, I don't know what is! Just kidding. We haven't really argued about much at all in this whole process. Except flowers. Paco really doesn't think you need flowers at a wedding. UM, HELLO? No FLOWERS at a WEDDING? Clearly I am marrying a crazy person. Who doesn't want flowers at their wedding??

So pretty.

You know what's not fun about wedding planning? Realizing that it would definitely be a good thing if you lost 15 lbs before strapping on your overpriced dress. Which means you shouldn't make so many cakes, and drink so much wine. IE: NO FUN before the wedding. I am failing miserably at this part. I kind of like my life, and that extra 15 lbs comes with the territory (ie, cake & wine habit). And I don't want to be one of those brides who gets super skinny for her wedding and then just goes back to normal afterward. What? So I can look at pictures of my wedding and think of how great I look and how I WILL NEVER LOOK THAT WAY AGAIN? That seems depressing. So...maybe I'll shoot for 5 lbs. Compromise? We'll see.

Oh, so I have some other news: my sister Laura is pregnant, due in early June with a baby BOY. A boy! We don't know what to do with boys in this family! We're all girls! How is there a BOY up in that joint (joint = womb)? We are all excited, but it's definitely going to be weird to have a little man joining the clan. Paco and my dad are both thrilled, however. Maybe because of this pregnancy, I've been watching this ridiculous show called "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" on Discovery Health. In one particular episode a woman thought she had a stomach ache and just had to poop. So she sat on toilet pushing and pushing what she thought was a poop, but guess what?? It was a 2.5 lb baby! Surprise! Your poop has arms, legs, and eyes AND CAME OUT OF YOUR VAGINA. I don't know about you other ladies out there, but I've never once confused those two orifices. So obviously this girl wasn't the brightest. In this show, they often then switch frames to an OBGYN who will say something helpful or informative . So they do that, and this is what the OBGYN very seriously says: "if you find a baby in the toilet, you should immediately remove it, and wrap it in towels."

So, all those times I found babies in toilets, I was NOT supposed to flush?? Crazy! I of course told my sister that if she poops out her baby, she should wrap him in a towel, and NOT flush him. So I'm pretty glad I've been watching this show and soaking up all the knowledge - or else she might have flushed my nephew down the toilet when he's born! Spread the word, people.

I'm Something That Rhymes with ENRAGED!

2010-10-07T11:26:00.000-05:00

So Paco and I just returned from a 7 day vacation in sunny California. We spent the first two days in San Francisco, then went up to Farm Sanctuary for a night, and then to Napa for 2 nights, and Sonoma for 2 nights. It was WONDERFUL!

The first morning I awoke at 7am to a very hyper Paco. He was eager to start the day, and was packing up his camera to go site-seeing. I decided to sleep for a while longer. He came back 2 hours later still revved up, and dying to go hiking. Paco is definitely an active person, but it was a little weird how pumped up he was to go on a hike.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up. Gimme a minute, SHEESH!" I whined, as I dragged my lazy ass out of bed and put on some sensible hiking shoes.

I like a good hike and all, but I REALLY like sleeping. But, we were on vacation and you're supposed to get out and do things on vacation, I'm told, so off we went in our sweet Buick Lucerne rental car, headed toward Muir Woods. I was still sleepy, and Paco was still giddy. I started to wonder when my boyfriend had become such a fan of trees.

We got to the Woods, paid the entrance fee, and off we went. You can either stay on this boardwalk type thing that's been built in the woods, or you can take one of the trails and actually hike to the top of the mountain (I don't know if it's actually categorized as a mountain, but it took over an hour to get up there, so we'll say yes, it's a mountain). We chose the hike, obviously. The forest was absolutely beautiful, and I started to understand why Paco was so hyped up. I mean, these trees are ANCIENT. And HUGE. And just gorgeous.

The higher up we hiked, the fewer people we saw. I guess that's what happens when you are an elite athlete willing to walk for over an hour! Yeah! That's us! We got to the top, and frankly the view wasn't as spectacular as one would have hoped. It was mostly just the tops of trees (surprise!). We took a few pictures, and decided to head back down. As we started our descent, I decided I HAD to pee. Like, HAD to. Paco said he remembered a spot a little ways down where there was a bench. He said he'd wait on the bench and be my look out. We got to the bench and I put down my sweatshirt, and scouted out a nice place for pee-pee. (I am sure peeing in Muir Woods is discouraged, so if this is someone from the California Parks Board reading this, this part is just a joke - haha!) I did my business, and came walking back over to the bench. I grabbed my sweatshirt, and out fell a card that just had my initials on the front.

Now, let me give you a teeny bit of background before I continue. Two things: 1) Paco is known to do sweet things like give me thoughtful cards for no reason; and 2) for our anniversary this year, Paco donated money to the Minneapolis Parks board (or whatever they're called) to plant a tree in a park that I like. The tree is named for us, and at that time, he said that the tree represented our relationship....it will start out small, but grow and get stronger over the years, and that he was excited to watch the tree, and our relationship, continue to grow. It was a very thoughtful gift.

Back to Muir Woods: I pick up the card, and open it, and on the front is a picture of "our" tree.

"Aww, honey, you got me a card, that is so sweet!" I gushed.

I opened it up and read what is now the most loving, sweetest card I've ever gotten in my entire life. I'm not going to share it with you because I'm a very private person (ha!), but let's just say that it combined the themes of being in a huge redwood forest, and our anniversary tree, and ended with something about wanting to spend the rest of his life with me.

"That is a very sweet card! Thank you so much." I was still oblivious to what was about to happen.

Then he gets down on one knee....

Internal dialogue: What? What is happening?...Seriously, is this happening right now? I might pass out. This is happening.

".............stuff stuff stuff.........stuff stuff.....Will you marry me?"

See, I missed all that initial stuff because of my internal dialogue. Woops! I'm glad I have the card!

I of course said yes, and we hugged and kissed and held back tears of joy. It was awesome. I can't believe I peed and drip dried about 2 minutes before my proposal, but hey, it is what it is!

It's a good thing I said yes, because it would have been one long, awkward walk back down to the car. Not to mention a very strange 6 days in wine country!

The wedding planning has begun, and we couldn't be happier! Life is good.

Punch It In!

2010-09-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

In recent years my dad has gotten more tech-savvy. This stems from what can only be called his insane obsession with getting "deals" on Craigslist and Ebay. At the start of this obsession, he would make my mom help him do all his searches. He'd beckon her to the office and sit next to her at the computer, and bark orders like: "Okay, now punch in 'table saw' and let's see what we get".

Punch it in. That's what he called searching for something - punching it in. I don't know where he got the idea that you needed to punch a keyboard to get it to do things for you. I've had great luck with just gently touching the keys. I've never had to punch them at all. At any rate, after several months of getting my mom to punch in things like 'scaffolding' and 'electric saw' and 'other shit I don't need', she got tired of it and angrily shouted "I AM NOT PUNCHING THINGS IN FOR YOU ANYMORE, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO LEARN TO DO IT YOURSELF" And so he did. He punches in stuff like crazy now.

My dad's deal-seeking is something of a problem in my view. You see, in my hometown of 130 people, there isn't a big Craigslist market, so usually he searches for deals in the Twin Cities metro area. Before he discovered this "hobby", when he would visit me I'd employ his carpentry skills and plan all kinds of home improvement projects for him to work on. Now when he comes down, I'm lucky if I can get the man to hang some curtains.

The other problem is that when a deal is just "too damn good" for him to pass up, but not worth the money for him to drive down (I've estimated that threshold to be anything under $500), he'll convince one of his daughters to drive to a stranger's house with a bunch of cash and do the deal for him. Considering that he only buys tools, these strangers are almost always men. Yes, that's right: he frequently sends his young, incredibly attractive daughters to strange men's houses with wads of cash. Although, to be fair to him, he does only ask the one of us who has a boyfriend who is willing to tag along. Since I am the only one with a significant other at the moment, I am that lucky daughter! And a very lucky Paco gets to be my unofficial bodyguard, a role with which is he thrilled, let me tell you.

My dad often says things like "I can't believe these people are parting with these [incredibly old & rusty] wood clamps for only $75! They must be insane!" Yes, they are the insane ones. If you ask him what he plans to do with all of these deals he finds, he'll tell you that he's going to clean up his shop and display it all to sell to other people. He'll tell you how he's going to MAKE A FORTUNE once he starts selling all these top notch items that he practically stole from insane people. Buy low, sell high, everyone knows that. But you know what? We're on Year 6 of Obsession Craigslist and he has sold exactly 0 things for the grand sum of $0. I know, I can't believe it either.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go punch in "pepper spray" before my Craigslist mission tonight.

Move, Bitch, Get Out The Way

2010-09-14T11:22:00.000-05:00

This past Sunday night, I went to the Ludacris concert. Me. A 30 year old woman with a boring finance job. I went to see LUDA perform at First Avenue. And you know what you guys? I am way too _____ for this shit. You may fill in the blank with any or all of the following: a) old; b) curmudgeonly; c) sober; d) easily annoyed.

Even just 2 short years ago, when Paco and I first started dating, we'd often go to shows during the week - shows that started at 10pm. We'd have several drinks, I'd dress nice & skanky-like, and we'd be out til 1am. Then I'd get up and get my sorry ass to work by 7:30 am (ok, maybe 7:50) the next day. Rinse & repeat. What has happened to me?! It's not just because I've turned 30, I know that much, because there was most definitely a 50+ year old woman next to me having a grand(ma) old time dancing like a stripper all night!

Which brings me to the real problem with Sunday night's show: WHEN DID EVERYONE DECIDE IT WAS OKAY TO "DANCE" IN PUBLIC LIKE THEY ARE IN THE MIDST OF A VERY, VERY DIRTY SEX ACT? More importantly, why do these individuals always end up right near me at venues like this? I looked around, people, and I definitely had the strangest people in the whole place right next to me. Occasionally bumping me with their "dance moves". I mean, in addition to the 50 year old, to the left of us there was a Snooki look-a-like dancing against the railing in a sort of cage that her ~~one-night-stand~~ boyfriend had created with his arms around her. For a while, I thought maybe she was having violent seizures, but I've never seen someone have a seizure that almost exclusively affected her ass. I am guessing that her special friend's junk was actually too bruised to even be useful later that night after all her gyrating. Although, then again, there was really no chance that she wasn't passed out by the time he might have been able to use his junk in the privacy of one of their cars or homes, or in a dark alley/whatever. Honestly. I've never seen anything like it.

Do people think this is sexy? Because I'll tell you what, it was about as sexy as imagining my grandparents have sex (ewww). I'll give her this: she was a distraction for sure, and I certainly couldn't stop looking at her, but not for the reason she might have been going for.

Were you guys expecting this to be about Ludacris or his show? Oh. Well here's what I'll say about that: HOLY SHIT THAT DUDE IS DIRRRTY. 3 R's dirty. That's how dirty. Apparently I've only ever listened to his music after it's been heavily edited for radio play. And methinks that's how I'll be listening to it going forward. I mean, I was uncomfortable with, like, 73% of his lyrics. Maybe I should add "prudish" to the fill-in-the-blank options above? Holy crap I am fun!

Playboy

2010-09-10T08:44:00.001-05:00

My classy little sister, Laura, had a Match.com date last night - her first one with this particular gentleman. This morning she sent us a recap, which I will now share with you:

So, we were talking about the Wii and I said how I bought Mario Brothers games because I didn’t get them when I was younger. I said the only gaming system we had was a Playboy. So then a conversation like this took place:

Him: A playboy, huh?

Me: Ya, but we only had one so we had to share.

Him: How old were you?

Me: I don’t know. Maybe 10.

Him: So you enjoyed Playboy back then?

Me: I feel like you’re confused; I’m talking about that little gray hand-held game where you put the games in the back. It was fun.

Him: It’s called a Gameboy.

End Scene.

On Crankiness and Rear-Cleaning (Yes, Rear-Cleaning)

2010-08-11T16:14:00.000-05:00

Today, I got annoyed because I saw a “Baby On Board” sign in the rear window of the SUV driving ahead of me on my way to work. I was thinking, “WHAT? Is that supposed to make me drive more safely? Because it’s not working. I drive safely [may be exaggeration] no matter what, not just to protect BABIES!” Frankly, I was irate about this sign. And then I thought to myself, “Self, you are in a terrible mood. Cheese’n’Rice, you best snap out of it!” But snapping out of a bad mood isn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, as I’m sure you know. So I’ve been pouty and cranky all day, hiding back in my little office and debating whether or not I should climb under my desk and take a nap. I also treated myself to a giant bowl of pasta (Mmmm….carbohydrate high!) for lunch, which helped until I hit that carbohydrate low that inevitably happens a few hours later. Sigh.

Anyway, a bright spot in my day has been this email conversation with my sisters:

Sarah: What if my job gives me a stroke? Huh? What then?

Laura: I’m close to that as well.

Miranda: Sarah, please don't have a stroke.

Sarah: Laura, at least you live with Miranda so she can wipe your rear and stuff like that.

Miranda: Excuse me?!?! I never said I'd wipe ANYONE’S rear.

Me: I am confused how we went from nothing to stroke. Like, shouldn't you get an ulcer in between there or something? Also, Miranda loves wiping rears! It's her favesies!

Laura: I’m more concerned with the “stuff like that”.
----
At this point, I thought the conversation was (sadly) dead, but a couple hours later, Sarah fired off this one:
----
Sarah: What if Laura requires rear end cleaning in order to save her life? Will you do it? Because earlier you said you wouldn't.

Me: I am curious about Miranda's commitment to stroke-ridden Laura too. Miranda, what do you have to say for yourself?

[2 minutes later, after re-thinking this scenario]

Me: Although, wait a minute - why does Laura need rear end cleaning to SAVE HER LIFE? I mean, I realize a permanently dirty rear could result in some kind of infection, but you make it sound like it can cause immediate death or something. Please elaborate.

Miranda: Okay no kidding, it wouldn't save her life if I wiped her butt. You people are insane.

Sarah: Well, no one really knows. It's a medical mystery. But it is what it is.

Me: Okay, I think maybe Sarah's already had that stroke.

I feel like Laura was either a) too busy at work to respond, or b) not that concerned about her rear end post-stroke. It's hard to know which at this point, but I think we can all agree that this conversation nicely illustrated the importance of having an End of Life Plan. You're welcome.

Spam Be Gone!

2010-07-14T08:55:00.000-05:00

I finally had to enable comment moderation, you guys. Why? Not because I'm being inundated with vitriolic comments or anything, but because the Chinese(?) spammers suddenly LOVE my blog, and leave comments like this:

育隆 said... 憤怒，是片刻的瘋狂

WTF? That's NOT a comment. I mean, maybe it would be on another blog, but if it's completely incomprehensible here at Miss Minneapolis, it's not a comment. Does anyone read this language? Can someone tell me what it says? Because I think it says "click on the link I'm leaving here and your computer will self-destruct!" Because there's always a link (disabled above). Look, I like people of all nations, and I am happy to read your comments....if I can read your comments. Know what I'm sayin'?

Now a random story:

The other day, Paco and I were playing phone tag. Sometimes we'd leave each other messages, other times not. This went on for a few hours. Finally, he called me and I answered like this, "Phone tag!"

Silence.

"Brown pig?", he asked.

"What about a brown pig?"

"Why did you call me a brown pig?"

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You answered the phone 'Brown pig!'"

"I said 'Phone tag!' because we've been playing phone tag."

"Oh, I thought you called me brown pig, and I thought that was a strange way to answer the phone, but I could see you doing it."

So now sometimes I answer the phone "Brown pig!" very excitedly when he calls. And I have to say, I rather like it. I mean, how cute are brown pigs??

Chubbs McGee

2010-06-24T08:36:00.001-05:00

Today I am wearing a skirt that hasn't seen the light of day in a long time. It is quite snug in my thunder-thighs area. I thought about wearing something else, and then I realized that I should probably punish myself by wearing snug clothes, otherwise I'll never get motivated to lose the 6 lbs I've gained since meeting Paco. Six pounds, people, all in the thighs, I think. So, here I sit feeling all Chubbs McGee as uncomfortable as hell. I kind of feel like eating a donut or a cookie or something.

You might be thinking "oh, she met Paco and now she's letting herself go!" But that wouldn't be true at all. I mean, first off, I've been fatter than this before with no dating prospects around at all. Secondly, the real problem here is that over the last 2 years I've also developed a penchant for baking, and it turns out I'm pretty damn good at it. It is a terrible hobby to have picked up, let me tell you. During the first year of our courtship, Paco gained 12 pounds, and then got mad at me for all my baking, so I can't even share with him anymore. And feeding people baked goods is half the fun of making them, for crying out loud! What sucks about (most) men is that once they decide they need to lose weight, it just magically melts right off them. So Paco decided he needed to lose 12 lbs, and about a week later, he was back to his pre-baked-goods size. I don't understand it. It's not fair. I decided a while ago that it was time to drop this 6 pounds, and no magic has melted my ass yet! Sigh.

My work place is starting this "10,000 Steps a Day" challenge next week. We're all on teams and have to wear pedometers to track how far we walk each day. The online tracking program told me that I need to walk 16,424 steps a day if I want to lose weight. 10,000 apparently will just keep me where I am. I started wearing my pedometer this week to get a feel for how far I normally walk, and let me just say: not 10,000, and certainly not 16,424. On days where I don't work out, I'm booking about 8,500 per day. That sucks, yo! Do you know how far 16,424 steps is!? Me neither, but it's about twice as far as I'd apparently like to walk each day. Sad. We're doing this challenge for 8 weeks, and since I'm competitive, I'm thinking I might actually lose a pound or two. Provided I put a moratorium on baking things like strawberry shortcake cupcakes, and peanut butter cups, and rhubarb coffee cake, and mmmm.....baking.

Yeah, this is off to a good start....

You Missed Otis, Didn't You?

2010-06-10T19:52:00.000-05:00

Here are some pictures of Otis over this past year. I know you all probably missed him terribly. Here is is laying down asking us if we'd like to pet him. Answer: yes!

This year for Halloween, he was a Pumpkin. I think this picture shows you how happy he was about that. To see past Halloween photos, click here: 2008, 2007, 2006, 2005.

Man, this is one dejected looking pumpkin, isn't it?

In early November, my little Otis was hit by a car! Luckily the driver wasn't going very fast, and apparently hit him straight in the liver. This meant no head trauma or broken bones, but he was not himself at all for about 6 weeks while his liver and kidneys healed from the accident. He was on pain meds for quite a while, but made a full recovery. The crazy part is that he was ON LEASH when it happened. Paco was walking him, and the car almost hit both of them. Now at night we put a flashing lighted collar on him (Otis, not Paco). Anyway, here's a picture of his insides!

By Christmas he was doing much better. He got lots of toys and didn't want to share:

Since the weather has gotten nicer, this is how Otis has spent most of his time:
He loves being outside laying in the grass. Life is good.

And last but not least, this is my pretty kitty, Kisa. Kisa turns 10 next month! I've had her for almost 9 years. I can't believe that. Doesn't she have the prettiest eyes? I tell her that all the time. Don't worry - I also tell her she's very smart and lovable too.

So, there you have it. That's the update on my fur-kids!

All the Ladies Want Him

2010-06-08T09:24:00.000-05:00

Here's one of my favorite stories of online dating, as told by my little sister, Laura. I mean, I LOVE this story. I hope you do too.

________________

This guy Alex and I had talked a few times on the phone and he seemed "normal" so I agreed to meet him for coffee on a Monday night. First off - dude didn't look like his online picture. We sit down and start discussing the more important things in life: school, work, what type of food we enjoy (I stated I like Mexican, amongst others), where we're from, etc. Approximately 20 minutes in he asked what I thought of him - just like that: "So, what do you think of me?". I told him I thought it was a little soon to discuss that but that if we're going to, I'd say he seems very nice but I didn't think there was any potential (conversation was forced and boring, and I was not at all attracted to him). He then asked if I wanted to spend 20 more minutes together....I said "not really". So we get up and he tells me that I didn't impress him either. It seemed like we felt the same. I get in my car to get the hell outta there and right away he starts this text conversation:

Alex: Are you busy tomorrow?
Me: Yep, remember I am babysitting.
Alex: What about Wed? I'll take you out for Mexican and margaritas.
Me: Remember how you weren't impressed with me?
Alex: I really think you'll like me.
Alex: Can I have your work e-mail so we can keep in touch?
Me: Nope.

Anyway, the texts asking me out continued for 2 weeks when I finally told him I wanted nothing to do with him. Probably 8 months later I get this e-mail even though I have NOOOOOOOO idea how he knew my last name:

Hi! I just wanted to let you know that my ex and I are back together. I am very happy with her. Please don't contact me and stay away from me if you ever run into me. Please respect my life and privacy. Thanks.
Alex

________________

HAHAHAHA. He underlined that stuff himself, I swear.

Who does this guy think he is?!?! It's like he's getting accosted daily by girls he's gone on dates with and he thinks he needs to put a stop to it by emailing everyone he's ever had coffee with? Laura could barely remember who this clown was. I remember getting this email from her last fall. We all emailed back and forth about it:

Me: Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Wow this guy is great.

Miranda: Is he completely insane?

Me: I'd write back "since I have no idea who this is, that shouldn't be a problem, buddy."

Sarah: This is awesome. Can you post it on facebook somehow? Man, I love it.

Me: Actually, the more I think about it, the more I think you should just ignore it. I mean, clearly the guy is insane. Congrats to his ex - she is one lucky lady!

Sarah: Yeah, he's obviously got some sort of delusion issue.

Me: Laura, I just noticed that this guy sent this out to more than just you - a distribution list of sorts. Probably lots of ladies he took on awesome dates. OMG, this is just too awesome. It makes me want to revive my blog! It also makes me wish you would run into him. You could act all thrilled to see him, just to see how he'd react.

Sarah: OMG, this does just get better and better. If you haven't contacted him in over a year, what makes him think that you are going to start bothering him all of a sudden? Insane. Wow.

Laura: I've never contacted him since the awesome date! I did write back and said basically what you said to say. I just want him to know he's crazy.

Me: Haha, I wonder if he'll write back. Be sure to tell us if he does! I bet he does - I bet he can't stand that you wouldn't remember him.

Miranda: I wonder how he got his ex to take him back. He's an idiot.

Unfortunately, he never did write back to her, which was very sad for all of us. Who knows, maybe in another year she'll hear from him. We can all hope. In the meantime, I think it's safe to say his blissful relationship with his ex is probably still going strong.

How to Win Back Your Ex Even if You're a Big Fat Liar

2010-06-01T09:58:00.000-05:00

OK, you guys, I can't stay away. I've tried! Believe me! But, there are just too many crazy things I keep hearing about in the Dating World for me to keep it all to myself. It just wouldn't be fair to all of you....all 3 of you who still might come back and read this crap, that is.

Rest assured that things with Paco are still blissful. In August it will be our official 2 year anniversary, which is kind of insane. Our first date was June 10, 2008, so I like to think our anniversary is a mere 9 days away, but since it wasn't "official" until August 1st, he insists on going with that date. Lame. Anyhoo, I do have a few stories to report about us, but I'll save those for now, because there is something more pressing.

So, my sister Miranda has this friend Angela. Angela, who's in her mid 20s, dated Paul, who's in his early 40s, for about 2 years. He even took her to look at engagement rings at one point. Well, they recently broke up because Dopey (Paul) left his email open and she saw all these emails from his supposed ex-wife and a number of other women. Like any good detective, she read a few, only to find out that GUESS WHAT - he's still married! And while Angela was the main mistress, Dopey apparently had other ladies on the side as well, because he is nothing if not classy and honest. So, she simply printed out some of these emails and dropped them off at his apartment in a nice manila envelope. The end!

Oh wait - not the end, because Dopey is not just an adulterer and a liar, he is also a crazy person (though maybe that goes without saying?). He has tried tirelessly to get her back over the past couple months, employing the following tactics:

Threats of suicide.
Threats via text message of hooking up with other women (again): "R u certain about this? I have an opportunity to move on from you, but I want YOU, not her". Um....really? You probably should have demonstrated that sooner, sir.
Claiming that he heard through the grapevine that SHE cheated first, so he had no choice but to reach out to other women. (I love when a man is accountable for his actions too, don't you?)
Stopping by her office uninvited and dropping off what turned out to be a fake divorce settlement to (apparently?) prove that he is getting fake-divorced again.
Begging her sister to help him get Angela back - because I'm sure her sister would be his biggest champion in that battle!
Calling her and texting her incessantly, despite getting no response.

Unbelievable as it may be, none of these tactics have worked in regaining Angela's love and trust. It is beyond me why not, because clearly Dopey is ON HIS GAME, but those are the sad facts. Now, unfortunately, Dopey is in a career which requires him to carry a firearm. Not exactly ideal for a crazy person, is it? Angela has yet to tell Dopey's wife about his infidelities because she just wants him to GO AWAY, but he's not exactly doing that, so it may come to that. Although given the whole "firearm carrying situation", maybe that's not the best idea?

Anyway, that's the best (and by 'best' I mean 'most depressing') dating story I have for you for now. Rest assured I'll be back with more sometime soon. There are plenty of crazies out there, and lucky for us, I know a lot of them!

I Bid Thee Farewell!

2009-07-06T11:12:00.000-05:00

I cannot believe I started this blog back in 2005. That is outrageous.

This blog started as a place where I could tell stories about my dating life and vent about how awful and/or fun and/or unintentionally hilarious dating could be. Now almost 4 years later, it has deteriorated into a place where I write about my Sims' obsession and post pictures of my dog. For me, personally, this is fantastic because it means I've found a guy that I really want to be with, and who seems to want to be with me too! VICTORY!

On the flip side, I don't have all the ridiculous 1st date stories to tell anymore (I think Paco would frown upon me going on first dates these days). While I have loved blogging, and loved meeting all the amazing people I've met through blogging, I think it's time to say goodbye to Miss Minneapolis. Thank you to everyone who has read the nonsense I write - I really appreciate it!

Just so I don't leave you totally empty handed, I want to leave you with 3 things. First, look at these pictures of my parents' new Boston Terrier puppy, Betsy. Isn't she adorable?
Okay, plus one more of Otis because I don't want him reading this and feeling left out:

Second, here's a list of some of my favorite blogs - go check them out to waste your work day away instead!

Hobocamp - I know I've mentioned this blog quite a few times before, but it is hilarious. I have had the pleasure of meeting the author, Meg, on a number of occasions, and she is funny and delightful in person as well as online.
The Vegetable Assassin - This one is newer, and written by a Canadian. Give it a chance anyway, it's pretty funny, and not all about vegetables.
Hollywood Sucker - Her recaps of The Hills are hilarious, and I don't even watch The Hills.
Peter DeWolf - Sometimes funny, sometimes serious, but always Canadian and inappropriate.
Your Beard is Good - "A blog illiterates can read".
Sanctuary Tails - A blog from Farm Sanctuary.
Peaceful Prairie Blog - Another farm animal sanctuary blog.

Lastly, here is a short list of some of my favorite posts I've written here - a trip down memory lane, if you will:

Finding My True Calling: Benevolent Dictator
The Things We Do For Love - the one where I put Otis in a buggy behind my bike
The One Where I'm on Vicodin - because crippling headaches CAN be funny
Emotional Stability: All It's Cracked Up to Be?
Maybe Mr. Ski Mask Isn't So Bad? - the one where I wonder what I'm doing with online dating
Match.com Profiles: My Friendly Advice for Men

Adios! (That means "goodbye" in Spanish).

Otis is Controlling My Life

2009-06-30T11:13:00.000-05:00

I have never met a dog who's as stubborn as Otis. He's generally a very well behaved little guy, but when he wants something he will stop at nothing to get it. This means that he will hump the same dog at the dog park for a really, really long time, even if s/he is running away from him and clearly getting angry. It also means that when we are on walks, if he knows we have turned the corner to go back to the house, he will plop down on the grass and show me his belly in an effort to prolong the walk by distracting me with what he clearly sees as a serious temptation for me: giving him a belly rub. He will lay there for what seems like HOURS. Eventually I just pick him up and carry him home, which looks pretty awesome if you're someone driving by ("I don't think that's what they mean when they say you should walk your dog").

In the mornings, I am usually in a pretty big hurry to get out the door, so Otis doesn't get a walk - the poor, tortured soul just has to come outside with me to the side of my condo complex and do his business. This has been our arrangement for 2 years; I thought it was going well. For the most part, he's still exhausted and just wants to run back upstairs to go get a few more hours of sleep. But 2 weeks ago, things changed. He decided that going potty on the side of the complex wasn't good enough for him. No! He needs to go BEHIND the complex where the grass is apparently much better for pooping on. With my tiny human brain, I cannot possibly comprehend this, but it must be true, because if I try to get him to go in his regular spot, he will stand there looking toward the back of the complex longingly, the leash as taut as he can get it. While I consider myself to be quite willful (just ask Paco!), I am nothing compared to Otis when it comes to a battle of wills. Inevitably I give up and take him where he wants to go. Then he does his business and trots back inside, back upstairs to bed.

I don't understand. The back of the complex is only another 30 steps away - he's not exactly getting a "walk" by doing this. What's wrong with the side of the complex?? It doesn't make any sense, and yet now I am trained to go to the back of the house. I HAVE BEEN TRAINED BY MY DOG.

I know this isn't such a huge deal....but it's the principle of the matter! And it's illustrative of the larger relationship we have: he whines or cries or somehow insists on a certain treat/walk/poop spot, and I give in - every time.

Another thing he does is that if we've gone on a trip somewhere (to the dog park or something), when we return to the house, he refuses to exit the car. He will stay right where he is, thankyouvermuch. Paco saw this for the first time not long ago. We pull up, I get out and walk around to the passenger side to pick him up and take him inside. Paco stops me, asking why I would carry him in. "Because he doesn't come in if I don't, and it's too hot out to leave him in here." In disbelief, Paco tells me to leave the car door open, "I'll wait for him to come out, he won't stay there for long if he doesn't see us out here." "Okay," I say.

Roughly 20 minutes later, Paco walks in carrying Otis. "You're right, he just stayed there and I got tired of waiting."

I'm telling myself I'll be better with children, who I will actually have to raise to be productive members of society who don't need to be carried around when they're 20 years old, but who really knows? Maybe my kids will be as manipulative as my dog? Although I'm not sure that's possible, honestly.

Your Shitty Chardonnay

2009-06-26T14:59:00.000-05:00

A few weekends ago, a group of friends and I went to this cool little bar called The Bradstreet Craftshouse located in the Graves Hotel. I've been there a few times and always enjoyed it. The atmosphere in the back room is cozy and modern, and the mixed drinks are delightful. They are pretty proud of those specialty mixed drinks, and to show you how proud they are, they take their sweet time making them. Most of the time I go there, I get some sort of vodka beverage, but after 2 of those on this particular night, I decided it was time to switch to wine. The great thing about this place is that you can get a decent glass of wine for only $3, which is kind of odd for such a classy place, but I'm not complaining. I'm trying to be frugal these days because somebody told me the economy isn't doing so hot. Plus, the cheap wine is good! I think they just do it because not many people opt for wine given that the mixed drinks are kind of the whole reason for going there, you know?

Anyhoo, our waiter returns to take our drink refill order, and I say "Could I get a glass of the Whatever-Brand-It-Was chardonnay?". And do you know what that turd said back to me?

"I suppose....if you really want to."

There was no sarcasm, no "har har har I'm so silly!" - just straight up snobbery. So I said, "well, is there something else you'd recommend?" thinking he'd tell me I needed a $15 glass instead and then I would smack him.

"...no, I just like red wine."

Ohhh, okay, that was helpful! "Well then bring me the glass I ordered."

The whole table was like "WTF was THAT?"

But it gets worse. When he returns, he happily hands others their fancy-pants mixed cocktails. Then he turns to me, hands me my cheap (and probably spit in!) chardonnay, and just says "here's your chardonnay".

Um, okay... I guess I really offended this dude with my order. I had no idea chardonnay was so offensive!

As he walked off, my friend Lauren did a great impression of him: "HERE'S YOUR SHITTY CHARDONNAY", and we all cracked up, because we are nothing if not mature.

I think from now on that's all I'm ordering there, just to be a jerk. I mean, what kind of waiter makes you feel BAD about your order? It's not like I asked for a Miller Light or something, for crying out loud. Then he'd be justified in being rude, you know? Totally.

SimsSimsSims: I Has a Problem

2009-06-24T09:37:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry I've been absent. I should be reporting that I've been in Sims rehab, but unfortunately, that is not the case at all. My addiction has only worsened, and I fear that I still haven't reached rock bottom. Don't get me wrong: I have still been doing fun things that don't involve computers. For example, Paco and I went to a fashion show, which was pretty ridiculous overall, and ignited in him a secret desire to own electric blue skinny jeans. (I do not support this.) I have also been biking my booty off, since I'm signed up to ride 300 miles across Minnesota at the end of July - god help me, what was I thinking??

That said, in my down time, I've been playing Sims. Paco is even sort of on board with this addiction now, because he sees that it reduces my stress level (which has been pretty high as of late).

Anyway, because I have nothing else to tell you, here's a Sims update. Oh, and FYI, I've abandoned the Paco/MissMpls Sim family because Sims Social Services took all the fun out of it for me. Plus, we're old now. So I've got all these new Sims and I hop between families!

First of all, I created a fat Scottish guy...he is ridiculous looking and I love him! Because I am shallow, almost all of my other Sims are very attractive looking. But then I thought "well that's not very realistic", so I decided to make Hank, the Scottish red-head who wants "woohoo" (lovin') all the time! Anyway, he lives with this guy, Jeremiah, who is very attractive, and this girl Cordelia, who is easily the best looking person in the neighborhood (I downloaded her from a site where they make goddess-looking Sims - I'm a nerd). Cordelia, it turns out, is a WEIRDO. I made her first, and while she was waiting for her roommates to be made, she was standing there talking to herself, and using her hands like mouths talking to each other. Total whack-job, which I didn't even try for, but I am quite happy about! Their last name is Krazy because she is so freakin' weird. The only bad part is that she doesn't listen to any of my commands. (For example, when their kitchen started on fire, she just looked at it and screamed - she wouldn't help Jeremiah try to put it out, and she wouldn't call the Fire Dept!)

So last night when I went to walk Otis, I thought it would be fun to let this Sim family run their own lives so I could see what would happen in my absence. WELL, that backfired! HANK DIED. This was before I even really got to play much with him. I come back and Cordelia is trying to get to the toilet, but Hank's urn is in the way and she's looking all annoyed and then talking to herself some more and pointing at the urn like "GOD THIS IS ANNOYING" (so insensitive considering her roommate just died). Well, of course I couldn't save because I didn't even get to PLAY with Hank, and how the hell did he die in the bathroom anyway???? I mean, HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? So I exited, and didn't save and then played with them a little bit (I got Hank hitting on all the ladies who were having none of him, but then had him hit on Jeremiah, who was rather enjoying his advances, so maybe they are gay?).

Then I switched back to another family I created last week. Marisa and Dante started with twins, and then adopted the kid that PacoSim & I got taken away from us initially. Then finally Marisa got pregnant (Dante continually shut her down when she tried to make woohoo with him), and then when she was ready to pop, Dante DIED. The Grim Reaper came and turned him into ashes. Only moments later, one of Marisa's desires was "fall in love"-- apparently it doesn't take long to get over your husband in Sims? Well, I had to go create a single guy for Marisa, and I came up with George. George is also very attractive, but actually looks a little feminine - woops! Anyway, he and Marisa have been getting along quite nicely, and last night they were kissing on the porch and she was charming him and then she proposed that he spend the night, which apparently offended his delicate sensibilities because he looked appalled and took off. So they are still interested in each other, but are definitely NOT best friends.

Also, Marisa's teenage boy, Shawn, has a wish to "see the ghost of Dante" (his dead dad), which I think is a little creepy. He is upset because he has no social life - wah wah wah, get OVER IT, Shawn---I'm trying to get you a new dad!

As you can see, this is a lot of work, and takes a serious time commitment on my part. I think you can see now why I haven't been blogging much, and I'm almost positive you'll forgive me given the seriousness of my current situation. Yes?

I Got Kissed By a Girl and I Didn't Like It

2009-06-12T13:32:00.000-05:00

I apologize for not telling you guys this story sooner, but frankly it was a little traumatizing and I needed some time to process it. Also I've been busy.

SO. A couple weekends ago, my friend Lengli came to visit me from NYC. She is a delight, not to mention an avid photographer and skilled chop-sticks thief. We started that Friday night out by grabbing dinner at my favorite restaurant (French Meadow--check it out and get the tempeh cutlet!) with my friend Becky. Then the three of us met up with some menfolk, including Paco, at the Bradstreet Craftshouse at the Graves Hotel (I have a story about that too - coming soon to this blog near you!). We then took things up a notch and went to Seven's rooftop bar, where we all proceeded to drink entirely too much, and where we met this girl Carmen. Or Erin. She gave us different names at different points in the night, so I'm pretty unclear what her real name is. I'll call her CarmenErin. Anyway, she spent much of the time there hitting on one of Paco's friends quite aggressively, but really getting nowhere.

Fast forward to our last stop: the Saloon. Now, the Saloon is a gay bar in downtown and the 3 times I've been there, I have always been positively shit-canned. That night was really no different. So there I am chatting with my friends Jason & Lengli when all of a sudden I look over and see some girl's hands all over MY BOYFRIEND. "OH NO YOU DI'INT! It is ON!", I'm thinking, as I march over to the offender. Guess who it was! CarmenErin. Surprise, huh? Well, if I thought I was shit-canned, then CarmenErin was damn near dead she was so drunk. I asked her if she was hitting on my boyfriend, and she was like "no, honey, I know he's yours, I saw you guys together at Seven. And he says you're hot." Regardless, I told her to keep her hands to herself.....and apparently this turned her on? I have no idea what happened, but not long after this, CarmenErin was trying to kiss me. When I say "trying to kiss me", I mean she had my head between her hands in a vice-grip and kept putting her mouth up to my mouth. Meanwhile, Paco took pictures, which I think is probably totally appropriate (???). So now I have pictures of me trying to NOT get kissed by a crazy girl in a bar - I can't wait to show my grandchildren some day! They are kind of hilarious, but still. What a weird night. Even stranger is that she kept saying to me, "honey, I like BOYS, now just KISS ME." Contradiction? I think so.

First Date Anniversary

2009-06-10T14:54:00.000-05:00

One year ago today was my first date with Paco. I can't believe it's been a year already! We're sort of celebrating it as an anniversary mostly because I insist on doing so. In my mind, he was my boyfriend pretty much immediately, but I guess both people should technically agree on that type of thing....so technically August 1st is our "real" anniversary and we'll celebrate that then. But today is important too! I mean, without June 10th happening, we never would have made it to the August 1st mark when he officially asked me to "go steady", as the kids (from the 1950s) say. So, um, obviously June 10th is important and should be celebrated. I'm excited!

Also, I have so much more to report on - like how a girl wouldn't stop trying to kiss me the other night when we were out on the town. AWKWARD. There's more to the story and I will surely tell you about it soon, but in the meantime, my Sims are calling for me.

As I'm sure you're dying for a quick update, here's what's been going on in the Sims: Sadly, Paco Sim and MissMpls Sim had their two youngest sons taken away from them by Social Services....something about "neglect" (whatever). So yeah, we only have custody of 1 out of the 4 children we originally had. The game is not going well. On the upside, the one we do have left is now a teenager, and I went and created some teenage girls for him because he wanted a girlfriend, and he is now dating a very nice girl, Betty. He is pretty happy. So maybe 1 out of 4 ain't bad? (Yeah, it's bad, I know).

Family: Ya Gotta Love 'Em

2009-06-02T09:43:00.001-05:00

Over Memorial Day weekend, Paco and I went up to my parents' farm. It was Paco's first time there, and not only did a family friend introduce him to someone as my "new fiance" (as if I had an old fiance?), but my grandfather also told him he ought to hurry up and seal the deal with me, because he'd like to go to another wedding. No pressure!

Said grandfather also told me, "you know what I've been surprised about? When you went vegetarian, I thought for sure you'd just waste away to nothing - skin & bones! But you haven't lost a pound!"

Thanks?

I think he did mean it as a compliment, but come on!

Anyhoo, Paco got to see my K-12 school and was shocked at how incredibly small it was. He said I didn't do a very good job of explaining how small it would be. I thought saying I graduated with 9 other kids would kind of get that message across, but apparently not?

A post about the farm wouldn't be complete without a couple of doggy pictures, so here you go:

Charlie looking sneaky:

Ellie out on the open road:

Otis running through the fields and ditches:

Otis is a happy little monkey on the farm:

Charlie found something delicious to roll in and rolled around for quite some time, each time rolling down the hill, then climbing back up to do it again. Pretty hilarious:

And a close up of Ellie - have you ever seen such a cute freakin' dog?!?!

Sleepy Eye

2009-05-26T12:29:00.000-05:00

Have you heard about that Minnesota kid who fled the state after being court ordered to undergo chemotherapy treatment for his cancer? Apparently it is against his family's religious beliefs to use modern medicine or something. Well, on the news they kept saying things like "sleepy eye mother takes son out of the state to avoid treatment", and "sleepy eye Coleen Hauser...." etc etc. I kept thinking MPR was being pretty politically incorrect - like this woman had a lazy eye or something and they kept talking about it even despite the fact that it really had nothing to do with the story. "RUDE!", I thought every time I heard it.

I am not that smart, though, we have to remember. Today I looked up the story online and guess what? There is a town in Minnesota called SLEEPY EYE, and it just happens to be where this family lives.

I am a genius...and MPR isn't super insensitive, I guess.

Stories From the Vault: You Can Learn a Lot From a Man's Music Collection

2009-05-22T09:28:00.000-05:00

Picture this: You're a month or so in to what you think is a great relationship. Your new boyfriend is kind and respectful, he does nice things like open doors for you and cook you meals; he shows you affection, and isn't embarrassed by you like your last 6 boyfriends, yadda yadda yadda. Everything is going along swimmingly! But then one night you're at his house and you say "we should put on some music, what do you have?" He points you in the direction of his music collection, and it is then that you notice 2 things that are of concern:

He owns only 5 CDs. And by that I mean that there is no iPod, no iTunes library - nothing but FIVE CDs. But FINE, he's not that into music. You can get past that, right? RIGHT.
Upon further inspection, however, you notice that there is something of much greater concern....these are the 5 CDs:

1. The Best of the Gipsy Kings

Hm. You make fun of your dad for liking this crappy music. Then again, let's remember that your boyfriend is Moroccan. Perhaps it's a cultural thing?*

2. Bryan Adams - Reckless

Ok, well, "Summer of '69" was a classic. I mean, who didn't like that song? Basically you are a communist if you don't like that song, so I'll give anyone a pass on this one.

3. Bryan Adams - Cuts Like a Knife

Somebody is a Bryan Adams fan, I see! While I do like "Cuts like a knife" I'm not sure it warranted the purchasing of this CD, but whatever. Moving right along....

4. Bryan Adams - So Far So Good (A "best of" CD, if you will)

Holy shit, MORE Bryan Adams?? He probably could have skipped the first two and just bought this one, but clearly new boyfriend is REALLY in to Bryan Adams, so... Yeah.

5. Celine Dion - Let's Talk About Love

Okay, well this I cannot stand for! CELINE DION?! This was very upsetting when I came to it. 20% of my boyfriend's CD collection was Celine Dion! I was willing to give him a pass on 60% of it being Bryan Adams, but then he had to go and do this. When I asked him about it, he said "I like that Titanic song, you know?" Oh, I know, and that is not an acceptable response.

The thing is, if 3 Bryan Adams CDs and one Celine Dion album happened to be part of a big collection, I probably wouldn't have even cared/noticed. But here we have a man who has chosen to buy only 5 CDs in his life, and these all made the cut? Isn't that just a little bit strange?

I wish I had listened to that voice that said "something isn't right here", but I didn't. I chalked it up to him being foreign (even though he'd lived in America for 10 years and presumably turned on a radio from time to time), and brought music over to his place when visiting from that point on.

A little less than a year later he cheated on me. I guess the moral of the story here is that if you're dating someone from another country and he has awful taste in music, don't chalk it up to him being foreign. He's probably just a hard-of-hearing jerk who's gonna cheat on you. You heard it here first.

With that, have a great weekend! Paco's coming to the farm with me this weekend. It'll be a fun, Hillbilly Memorial Day weekend!
________________
*The Gipsy Kings are French, not Moroccan, but at the time, this made perfect sense. Both are foreign - voila!

The One Where It Becomes Clear Just How Crazy I Am

2009-05-20T14:06:00.001-05:00

You guys, it's bad. My Sims addiction is Baaaaad. And I sort of didn't tell you all something in that last post because it makes me seem very, very crazy. But, I have no shame today, so here you go.

So...my Sim family? Well, originally I thought it would be a fun little game to create a MissMpls Sim and a Paco Sim - in separate houses, of course. Then I'd see if I could get them to fall in love. That was really all I had planned initially, but things got sort of out of control. First they became best friends, then they fell in love, then they moved in together, got engaged and got married. Now they have 3 little boys (please recall that the adopted daughter was taken away due to "neglect" - whatever that means). SimMissMpls and SimPaco had to have babies the old fashioned way....meaning they made "woohoo" (that's Sims language, people), then SimMissMpls got moody and fat and 3 days later magically popped out a kid. It was funny because every time my Sim would get pregnant and SimPaco tried to talk to her, she'd wave her hands in front of her face and make a scowl because she did not want him around. Real nice of me, huh?

Well, I told Paco about this after our Sims had the second kid, and instead of telling me I was an insane person and breaking up with me, he asked me what the kids were named. I told him, and he was upset because he hadn't been consulted on the naming of his SimChildren. He demanded a Simvasectomy, but I told him that wasn't possible because his Sim wanted more kids - 10 to be exact. I'm not kidding. So he threw a fit and said his Sim would not be putting out, but we had that third kid anyway because he doesn't really know how to play. To be nice, I named the third one a name I know he likes. Isn't that sweet of me?

What's annoying is that his Sim kept getting promoted at work, but when my Sim had a job she NEVER got promoted (it mimics real life, which is sad). I didn't even develop any skills for SimPaco, and somehow he'd come home with a bonus and promotion every frickin' day. Meanwhile, MY Sim is stuck at home with three bratty kids (and a nanny, who apparently will ONLY take care of 1 child at a time - LAME). SimPaco also kept bringing this whore Mary Sue home with him from work, and when I'd play SimPaco and click on Mary Sue, options like "kiss" and "flirt" and "propose" (PROPOSE!?? That's Polygamy, jerkface!) came up, and I started to think maybe something was going on at work. So SimMissMpls wanted to smack Mary Sue, but the best the game would do was to let me tell her to go home. Meanwhile, I notice that SimPaco's biggest fear is "Get caught cheating"! What?!?! I told Real Paco about it, and he said it was payback for not letting him get a Simvasectomy.

Now my Sim is doing things like playing with sacks of flour like they're babies ("Love Flour Sack") and seeing party bunnies that no one else can see. It's not looking good. I think it's only a matter of time before the Grim Reaper shows up and SimMe is gone and SimPaco is taking care of those 3 kids he wanted so badly all on his own. And then maybe ugly Mary Sue can move in and they can flirt and get married!!

This game has not been good for our relationship. But REALLY, who could have predicted that??

Everyone? Oh.

Also, yesterday I created a new family. They're Latino and very sassy, and I have no emotional attachment to whether or not the husband cheats. FUN!

Where Have I Been?

2009-05-18T09:23:00.000-05:00

Seriously, this is ridiculous. I think this is the longest I've gone without posting in ages. Crazy!

Things have been pretty busy since my return from Hawaii. Work has been hectic, and with the weather as beautiful as it's been, and with me training for the MS Society's TRAM (300 mile bike ride over 5 days) taking place later this summer, I've been out biking quite a bit (sans Otis - he kind of weighs me down). Steff talked me in to it, what can I say? Paco might sign up for it too, but even if he doesn't, he's still training with me. He's so in love with his new bike that I think it's good I'm into biking too or I might never see him. I won't hear from him for hours in the evening and then later will get a text that he was out "riding Smokey" (that's his bike's name) all night.

The other thing I've been doing - and this is shameful.....I've been playing a lot of Sims. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but I have an unhealthy obsession with Sims. I had to uninstall it from my computer a while back because I couldn't stop playing it.... The thing is, Sims 3 is coming out soon, and I saw a billboard about it, got unnaturally excited, and reinstalled Sims 2 on my computer "just to see" if it was as wonderful as I remembered it being. AND IT WAS. For those of you who are too cool to know what Sims is, it's basically a video game where you create people, build or buy them houses, and then live their lives for them. You get them jobs, tell them what to do, etc. They have goals and dreams, so your success is based on how well you fulfill those goals and dreams, but essentially you are playing god. Right now my Sim family isn't doing so hot. They just had their 3rd kid (3 boys, argh!) and none of the kids are what you'd call "overachievers". I let the toddler play in the toilet, I forgot to feed him once and Social Services was on my back (this could be because my first kid (adopted) was taken away because I left her on the lawn all day squirming around with no supervision), I did a terrible job of teaching him how to talk and walk, etc etc. You get the picture. Anyway, then my 3rd kid comes along, and I throw a party, but I was too tired in the game to host the party and kept trying to go to bed. Suddenly this "party bunny" appeared that only my main character could see. It was WEIRD. I think I was hallucinating. When I clicked on the bunny, my options were "slap", "fight", or "shoo", so I don't think he was a welcome party bunny, which is odd because the name "party bunny" implies that he'd be a lot of fun, you know? I chose "fight" but my Sim was too tired and just tried to go to bed again.

Um...yeah, and I just wrote an entire post about a video game. HELP! Paco is starting to worry he is losing his girlfriend to a video game. I thought he was ridiculous, but now I am wondering...Crap.

Hawaii Pictures

2009-05-08T09:44:00.000-05:00

Does it get any better? Answer: not really.
Does anybody watch "Lost"? These kinds of trees are on "the island" - incidentally, it's filmed in Hawaii.

This is Hanauma Bay. The coral there makes for some amazing snorkeling. Paco & I even got to swim with a sea turtle - it was awesome!A coconut that took about 45 minutes to get open. And yes, of course there are yellow flowers that magically sprout from the inside of a coconut...

Wild chickens - they do exist, and they are awesome!
Sunset from our patio on the north shore of Oahu:

The trip was bliss.

More soon - I swear!

I'm Back....And Otis is Thrilled!

2009-05-01T12:51:00.000-05:00

So, I'm back from Hawaii, but busy at work and behind on my Google Reader (711 posts to read - you people have been busy!). I'll tell you all about my glorious trip to Hawaii next week, but in the meantime, check out the gift I brought back for Otis:

At this point, I think he realized I was photographing him and would post the evidence on the interwebs:

So I Thought I Could Dance?

2009-04-20T09:29:00.000-05:00

Because I haven't embarrassed myself too much lately, I decided I would take a "Hip Hop Dance" class last week at my gym. True to form, I started things off nicely by running into the class to participate in the warm up, which apparently had started 5 minutes early. I do all the stretches and then the instructor announces that class is over!

She turns to me and says, "You must be here for the 8 o'clock class? We were just finishing up the 7 o'clock."

Off to a good start. "Oh, yeah, cool." I SO did not sound cool.

After some more awkward standing around, class got started.

Now, as someone who has watched every single episode of every season of So You Think You Can Dance (and occasionally writing about it) I pride myself on being an excellent hip hop dancer in my imaginary world, so I thought perhaps class would start, I'd pick up each and every move with ease, and impress the heck out of everyone!

Wouldn't that have been nice? Well, pretty much the exact opposite of that happened. I am uncoordinated, yo! I watched the instructor's every move and tried to mimic her as best as possible....which unfortunately amounted to me flailing my arms about and trying not to trip over my own feet as I shook my booty and attempted "chest bumps".

The worst part wasn't that the instructor kept looking at me and giggling after each 8 count. It wasn't even that I couldn't learn one of the moves to save my life, and consistently did it opposite of how it was meant to be done. No, the worst part was all the people in the weight & cardio room who kept looking into our classroom and openly, visibly mocking us. I mean, come ON, people, we are just trying to work out here. And for those of us who's dreams of being a professional hip hop dancer were being crushed before her eyes with each and every step, we really didn't need your mockery, thank you very much.

On the up side, I leave for Hawaii today, so that dance class can SUCK IT.

I'll blog at ya in 10 days or so! Aloha!

Steff Looks Good in the Morning

2009-04-14T09:35:00.000-05:00

I got this email from Steff last week, and had to share. Enjoy!

___________
It is almost too impossible to believe, but it’s happened again: on my way to work this morning, a man started hitting on me and tried to establish a love connection FROM HIS CAR. Yes, that’s right. You may recall a similar story from last year*, which I thought was a fluke, but apparently I was wrong! I am going to send an email survey to my DC women friends to ask them if it’s happening to them—or if it’s me? Like, do I look like a loose woman? Or is there something about me that says, “Hey, look at me! I am so easy to please that you don’t even have to go through the hassle of pulling over to get to know me before asking me out! I will SAY YES!”

Here’s the scene (this is a fun Friday writing project, by the way, instead of tackling my mountain of work):

Steffany is walking to work. It’s raining, so she’s carrying her hot pink umbrella. She has already gone running so she is sort of awake, but severely under-caffeinated and in a haze. She is wearing a semi-snazzy outfit, because she’s going out right after work, but it’s not THAT snazzy. Like, the jacket is from Ann Taylor Loft, and the bag is from Target and is over-stuffed with work papers and granola bars etc. Not sexy.

Suddenly, she hears a honk from a car driving parallel to her. She ignores it, thinking that the car is probably honking at someone inside the house, perhaps a carpool buddy? Undeterred, the man in the car rolls down his window and begins speaking.

Car Man: Hi there! How are you today?

Steff (uncomfortably): Okay, I guess. (Keeps walking and looking straight ahead, following instructions in childhood safety videos.)

Car Man: You know, you look great today! You look like my ex-girlfriend, actually.

Steff (laughing now, because that is the WORST pick-up line ever): Um, I do? I mean, I probably don’t. Haha! That’s interesting.

Car Man: No, but you look good!

Steff: Um. Thanks?

Car Man: Hey, why don’t I give you my business card? (Rolls down window farther, and offers card through window, flashing what he presumes to be his smoothest smile)

Steff: Ahhh! That’s nice. But, um, I have a boyfriend? (Lying! Totally lying.)

Car Man: Okay! Well, then, have a great day! (Drives away.)

End scene.

It was a highly entertaining way to start my day. And again, a good ego boost. Though it still makes me wonder if perhaps I look more like a hooker than I thought I did?
_____________
* I am almost certain I posted about this, but I can't find it in my blog. Hm. Sorry. Anyway, this did happen last year - another dude tried to get Steff's number from his car as she walked to work. Sexy lady at 8am, apparently!
UPDATE: I found the old post!

1 Through 6, What's Your Fix: Men's Edition

2009-04-10T08:41:00.000-05:00

I did promise that we'd also get to judge the male figure, so here we go!

MEN ONLY

LADIES ONLY

Leave comments if you have them!

Stop Deceiving Us, Vicki!

2009-04-09T08:27:00.001-05:00

I think I mentioned a while ago that Paco and I are going to Hawaii soon....with my whole family. We'll be gone for 9 days, 6 of which will be with my family and 3 of which will be just us. We are super excited to go, even though my mom said "this trip will be good, honey. Paco spending this many days with our family will really tell you if he plans on sticking around", and my brother-in-law said he's going to have to "have a talk" with Paco about what it's like to travel with my family. Neither of those things sound very promising to me, and I'm starting to wonder if there's some grand plan to chase Paco away? I don't need any help, family!

Anyway, even though I have about 6 swim suits, none of them are of the strapless variety, meaning I always end up looking like I was out in the sun in a halter top....because, well, my other suits are all halter tops. Well, I decided I should get one where I could sun my shoulders and I found this at Victoria's Secret:

Hot, right? Those little straps just come down and VOILA, you can sun your shoulders! I think it's pretty great. I ordered it online and it came in the mail and I put it on expecting to feel like a damn Sun Goddess, and then I realized that I look nothing like this model, so instead of looking like a Sun Goddess, I look more like An Average Girl in a Cute Swimsuit....which I suppose is better than looking like a Less Than Average Looking Girl in a Dumpy Swimsuit, right?

This got me thinking about how misleading Victoria's Secret catalogs really are. I mean, you look at this stuff and think "wow, that is so hot!" but then when you put it on your own Not Size 2 with Big Boobs body, it looks slightly different, ya know?

When I mentioned this to Steff and showed her the suit, she said "OMG that is HOT. Is it from Vicky’s Secret? I want! If you looked like that model, by the way, I could not be your friend. So. That’s a plus for you, I think." Then I realized that if I saw this ridiculously hot girl walking around I'd want to spit on her for being so beautiful, and being spit on all the time wouldn't be very fun...plus, I wouldn't have Steff as my friend, so I guess it all evens out in the end.

[Come back tomorrow for the MAN BODY POLL!!!]

The One Question Ye Shall Not Ask a Lady

2009-04-07T09:29:00.000-05:00

It's almost like blog material was seeking me out last Thursday after work. My day was business as usual (ifyouknowwhatImean) until about 3:45 when I was driving to the gym for a personal training session. I got pulled over by a cop for speeding and was fined $145 for going 44 in a 30 zone (I will be contesting that, because mama's not made of money, yo!). So I'm all flustered and late for my training appointment, but eventually get there and have a fabulous workout mostly because I'm so angry about getting a ticket that all my moves are exaggerated. You want me to do box jumps? I'll box jump all over the place! Lunges? Bring 'em on, sister! Anyway, I get done, and per usual my face is beat red. I can't help it - no matter how great of shape I'm in, my face always turns deep, deep red when I work out. It's sexy, needless to say. So, I walk into the locker room, wipe my face with my tank top, and lean over the sink to rinse my face and cool off. When I stand back upright, the woman at the sink next to me excitedly asks, "Ooh! Are you pregnant?"

*blink, blink, blink*

"NOOOOOO", I say, in voice that was sort of cow-like, such that 'Noooo' sounded more like 'Mooooo', which did not, of course, help my case.

At this point, I contemplated crying. Seriously. I looked down at my stomach, and noticed no basketball like object protruding from my abdomen. It was then that I questioned this woman's sanity.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so embarrassed. I mean, I thought you were just barely pregnant. It's that you glow. You have that happy pregnancy glow."

I think she confused exhaustion with glow? I don't know, but what I do know is that several other women around us definitely noticed this taking place, and had I not already looked like a tomato, I would have blushed.

"You know, sometimes people still ask me if I'm pregnant and I'm 50 years old! So, anyway, yeah, this is embarrassing."

No shit! Who asks someone that?

The thing is, I don't carry weight in my stomach. That is the last thing to get fat - well, second to last because my boobs insist that they are perfect as they are (egotistical jerks) - so if my belly is looking big, then my ass must look like it's pregnant with twins.

I called my sister Sarah and she howled at this story, assuring me that I do not look pregnant.

"Well, you haven't seen me in a month or so, maybe I do look pregnant!"

"I am sure that you don't. I am also sure that this is not the first time this woman has embarrassed herself."

I don't know....maybe it's time to buy a girdle and call it a day?

Poll Recap

2009-04-06T08:39:00.000-05:00

Well, it looks like people had fun with my recent poll about ideal body types for females. I found it very interesting. I'm leaving the polls open, but am going to recap them now because I don't imagine a bunch of new votes coming in to swing things too much in any one direction. So, let's see what we found:There are a few things worth noting-

# of women voting = 110; # of men voting = 39
Nobody likes bodybuilder women. Nobody.
Over a third of women would like to look like buff Jillian Michaels, whereas only 10% of men preferred that look. I find this interesting. This would be my choice hands-down. If I had a body like this I would probably never wear clothes anywhere. I'd just prance around in a bikini even mid-winter so that everyone could see my rock hard abs and perfect ass, and I'd point it out to other women as I walked by: "Hi girls, do you see this perfect ass? Man, it is PERFECT!" Because I am nice like that.
Men like the curvy or fuller figured look the most, with Kim Kardashian coming in with 28% of the vote, and the fuller figured look (#6) getting 23% of the vote.
The 2nd favorite look for women, getting 29% of the vote, was #3 - Scarlett Johansson.

Chris over at Surviving Myself chose Kim Kardashian because he is basically obsessed with her. He thought it was odd that I liked #5 so much, and said the reason guys don't is because "guys are supposed to have hard bodies, girls are supposed to be soft". I guess I am not going to throw too much of a fit about this since I'm no where near looking like Jillian Michaels, and "soft" sums me up pretty good, but I think it's interesting. Paco also picked Kim Kardashian, followed closely by Scarlett, but he said he liked them all - except #2. I think most men would probably be freaked out by the body builder...mostly because no guy likes to feel like his girlfriend could kick his ass if she wanted to. Or that's what I'm speculating, anyway.

So, class, what did we learn from this? We learned that men like us a little softer than we probably think, and that we should definitely not go turn into man-like body builders or we'll never get laid. The end.

Next up: Men's Edition!

1 Through 6, What's Your Fix?

2009-04-02T06:21:00.000-05:00

Steff will not approve of this blog entry, but I am going to have to set that aside for now. You see, I am curious about something, and I need y'all to take a poll. Below you will see pictures of 6 different lady-bodies. All would be considered average or above average, I'd say, and therefore desirable to the general population on some level (my opinion, so obviously it's right). What I'm wondering is if men and women have different ideals - and if so, how much those ideals differ. (Don't worry, there's one where we can judge man physiques too - coming up soon).

So, there are two different polls here - one is for the ladies only and one is for men only. Pick the physique that you think is closest to your "ideal". And Steff, don't be mad at me, k? This is just for fun! It's like a sociological experiment. Science, really.

Now vote!

LADIES ONLY:

MEN ONLY:

Feel free to discuss your choice in the comments as well! Oh, and I removed the heads in an effort to reduce bias. Anyone want to guess who these ladies are?

Seven Dushi Ultra Lounge

2009-03-27T12:59:00.000-05:00

Last weekend Paco and I went to a bar/restaurant in downtown Minneapolis called Seven Sushi Ultra Lounge (if you click on that link some douchey music starts playing, FYI) for a friend's birthday party. I wasn't in the best of moods to begin with, but that place is pretty much guaranteed to put me in the worst of moods within 10 minutes flat. I have renamed it Seven Dushi Ultra Lounge - any guesses why?

In the summer time, I actually enjoy going to this place - strictly because they have a rooftop patio and drinking outside is one of my favorite pastimes. Also, it is less douchey on the roof top for some reason. Anyway, in theory I would like Seven - it has a cool, hip atmosphere and overpriced drinks (two of my favorites things in a bar!), but in practice it is a real buzz-kill. Here's the problem: they are trying way too hard. Rumor has it that they actually pay attractive people to just walk around all night looking all fabulous. This isn't New York or LA, people - it's Minneapolis, Minnesoooota, dontcha know?? Most of us find that shit pretentious and annoying. What's worse is that while these people are indeed attractive, they are dressed like a) complete douchebags, or b) cheap hookers. I am not kidding. I saw a girl walk around all night in a short, leopard print, spandex dress. It was one of the most ridiculous things I've ever seen out of context (i.e. not in a strip club nor on a shady street corner). I mean, I'm thinking if they're going to spend the money to get good looking people to prance around all night, maybe they should invest in some clothing that doesn't make it seem like all those beautiful people are up for grabs to the highest bidder. Just a thought--but then again, I'm no restaurateur!

I admit I am hard to please. I railed on the C.C. Club a while back because it smells funny and a patron actually vomited on the table (correlation there?), and now I'm ripping on an ultra hip "Ultra Lounge" (it's so ultra!). You might be wondering what does make me happy. Good question. Normally I'd say "a decent wine list", but Seven has that and I still think it's ridic. Maybe I need to modify that to "a decent wine list and no hookers in animal print dresses"? Is that asking too much?

Crazy Dog Lady or Super Awesome Lady?

2009-03-25T14:04:00.000-05:00

I suppose it will come as no surprise to any of you that someday I would like to have a big dog. I love my Otis and would never trade him in or drop him off at the pound like I sometimes threaten to do when he's being especially naughty, but I also would like to have a big dog (Otis likes to hump big dogs too - he's equal opportunity, so I think he'd adjust just fine!). So, yeah, I'd like a dog who's so big he looks more like a horse, really. Yes, that's right, I want a Great Dane:

And almost no matter who I have dated, when I say this out loud, there is a lot of protesting, and a lot of comments made about my lack of sanity. I don't get it. I mean, look how happy this guy is with HIS Great Dane:

Anyway, sadly, Paco is no exception to this trend - he thinks having big dogs is insane, and pointed out that a dog that big (100-200 lbs depending on gender/overall build) couldn't sleep in the bed with me. I pointed out that they make really big beds called California Kings! I don't even think you have to move to California to have one. The truth of the matter is that Paco is kind of frightened of big dogs, I think. He's never been attacked or anything, but I know some people just aren't comfortable around large animals. Me, I'll probably get eaten by a pack of dogs or a grizzly bear someday because I'm too comfortable: "Hi Mr. Bear! Wanna be my friend?! Let me get closer so I can pet you!" Then: NOMNOMNOM Mr. Bear has a nice dinner. Oh well.

At any rate, what do you suppose it is that makes some people afraid of dogs/animals, and makes other people feel so comfortable and natural around them? I am pretty sure I could live in a barn with a herd of sheep, honestly. Except I'd still want to shower every now and then. Maybe.

Anyway, how can I make Paco see the light on this? (Not the "living with sheep and not showering much" thing, but the "being open to getting a big dog [or several] someday" thing.)

Please discuss amongst yourselves (in the comments, that is).

How to Make Love Like a Minnesotan

2009-03-23T14:11:00.000-05:00

*Cue sexy music*

*Actually maybe not....just keep reading*

This past Friday night I did something really fun: I learned "How to Make Love Like a Minnesotan". Or rather, Paco & I went to see it at the Brave New Workshop in uptown. For those of you who live in town and are interested in Laughter and Funny Things, you should totally go see it. It was pretty hilarious. Basically, it's and improv comedy show about romance in Minnesota, peppered with plenty of Minnesota colloquialisms and stereotypes. At one point there is a grown man in a diaper who sings quite a lengthy song. Nothing says "Minnesota" quite like adult incontinence! What more could you want? (To non-Minnesotans: please note that it is rare to see a grown man in a diaper just walking about singing a song. I swear. I mean, it's not something we do...often.)

The performance takes you through all the different stages of a relationship - from first meeting, to dating, to falling in love, marriage, babies, breakups - the whole works. It makes for a fun date night....unless of course you hate laughing, hate seeing other people laugh, or aren't into men wearing diapers (Rowr!). Otherwise, check it out!

Welcome!

2009-03-20T11:51:00.000-05:00

Welcome, readers! Thanks for making the migration over to Miss Minneapolis from my old URL. I apologize for the hassle, but it's really for the best. I mean - COME ON! Over here my little avatar in the header gets to wear a tiara. That's worth it, I'd say!

So, my apologies for my lack of posting. It has been quite a project moving. All the heavy lifting (none) and decorating (making slight changes to header) were pretty exhausting, leaving me no energy to actually write something. But I'm back now, I think.

Paco is taking me on a surprise date tonight. He does that a lot, and I can't really handle surprises, but for some reason this time I've been relatively okay with it (i.e., not completely insane about it). I hope it's not laser tag. I don't know why it would be, but I just hope it's not. I also hope it's not a water balloon fight, because even though spring is technically here, it's really not that warm out.

So here's the deal with the "new" blog (I realize it's just my old blog at a new URL with a slightly different name, but whatever): Remember how I used to write about dating and relationships and what have you? Well, I think I'm going to try get back to my roots as it were. And I should write more about Minneapolis, because it's a pretty cool city. I will also continue to talk about myself, however, and my dog, because that's what the people want*.

Anyway, in anticipation of that, I wanted to refer you to a series I did pretty early on called "Red Flags" - the red flags of dating, as it were. Please enjoy & prepare for more marginally helpful, know-it-all advice starting next week!

Red Flags: Part I

Red Flags: Part II

Red Flags: Part III

____________________
* I have no statistics whatsoever to back this claim up.

Very Truly Yours

2009-03-10T08:12:00.000-05:00

I don't understand when business people and lawyers sign their professional letters with "Very Truly Yours". It always makes me feel kind of uncomfortable. Because guess what? You are not "TRULY mine". We don't even know each other, in fact.

Who told them to sign letters like that? I bet it all started out as some kind of joke at a law school somewhere. Some professor somewhere told his least favorite student that all lawyers sign letters like that, because it's so warm and welcoming and not at all pervy. So that guy started doing it, and then it just took off somehow. Because really, it doesn't make sense any other way. Does it? Why would you tell a stranger that you're very truly theirs? I mean, what if I wanted to start signing my letters with "Love," or "Big kisses from me to you,"? Would that be okay?

Love & big kisses from me to you,

Miss Minneapolis

Times Are Tough

2009-03-04T08:45:00.000-06:00

So I've been thinking about getting a roommate. You see, business school drained me financially and has in NO WAY paid off AT ALL, and that is just a bunch of B.S. as far as I'm concerned, so I think it's time to get someone to pay part of my mortgage. Ideally this person would not want to live with me too, but I'm thinking they'll want something in return for their money. I have a spare bedroom and my sparkling personality to offer, so there ya go. (I think I can at least get something for the spare bedroom.)

Anyway, I decided to go on Craigslist and look at some of the ads to get a feel for rent prices and so forth. Then I found this, which followed a very lengthy ad describing pretty much everything about this person (my comments are in red):

Unfortunately, I will NOT consider people who are any of the following:
~ Looking to exchange work for rent [Is "sex" the same as "work"?]
~ Unemployed (if not retired or on disability)
~ Require that young/teenage children have visitation with them [hates children]
~ Have been in jail recently [Define "recently"]
~ Have been in treatment recently for alcoholism/drugs. I don't want to deal with that, sorry. [Define "treatment".]
~ On section 8 housing vouchers [You had better be able to pay for all your own shit with that job and/or retirement income and/or disability income! No coupons, no exceptions!]
~ Require a ton of medical equipment to move in with them (ie, oxygen machines, iron lungs, etc.) [Ok, this one is by far my favorite. She LITERALLY means "a ton". Have you seen iron lungs? Go here. They're frickin' huge. Why would anyone who needs an iron lung think about moving into a little apartment with a stranger? I'm pretty sure that person needs some serious medical attention and can't just haul their IRON LUNG into their new bedroom in their new apartment and call it good.]
~ needs to see a parole officer [I'm starting to think she doesn't like criminals?]
~ wants to throw lots of parties and live college dorm-style [Boooring!]

__________

Since I am a jerk (and blogging about this), I also of course sent this list to my sisters so that we could all make fun of this woman together:

Me: Ooh, I found a person I should live with---crap, I just saw she won't take someone who's been in jail recently. Bummer. [Then I copied & pasted the above without my commentary]

Laura: Screw that. You can't leave your iron lungs behind! ......What are iron lungs?

Me: I know - where ever I go, my iron lung goes. PERIOD!

Miranda: Hahahahah - it's like the jaws of life. What are the jaws of life? These things don't really exist.

Sarah: Miranda, I like how things that you don't know about just don't exist.

Miranda: It's folklore, Sarah. It's all folklore. How would that person in an iron lung even be able to move in anyway?

__________

At any rate, I think my ad will just be a picture of Otis, and it'll say, "do you want to live with THIS little nugget? Yes you do! Send me money and I'll think about it!"

I should have a lot of takers.

"Stop Thinking and Just Do It!"

2009-02-25T11:26:00.000-06:00

A couple weekends ago I saw some girls exiting a stretch limo Hummer (classy)(dear God, please strike me dead with lightning on the spot if you ever see me riding in a Hummer), and one of them said to another, "Stop thinking and just do it!"

Whoa. Those are some famous last words. It got me thinking about all the times I've heard and/or used this phrase myself, and how that turned out. I don't think it has ever once turned out to my advantage.

I mean, we were given brains to THINK with, and if you stop doing that with them, then really what's the point? So, to help you out, I've compiled a list of things that the phrase "Stop thinking and just do it!" usually preceeds:

Drunk dialing an ex-boyfriend to tell him that he "made a super mig bistake" by dumping you. Surprise! This will not make him agree, nor will it make him want you back. Nothing tells him "I made a great decision" more than a sloppy phone call from a sloppy you.
Hooking up with a "3" when you're an "8". You will not feel good about this tomorrow.
Hooking up with a complete douchebag, who's probably a "9" on the outside, but that also happens to be his emotional maturity age and possibly IQ.
Hooking up with a friend you have no intention of actually dating, but what the heck! Who needs to think!? This will only complicate your life beyond measure, and you will not feel good about this tomorrow.
Taking that 6th shot of vodka/tequila/etc. You will wake up with bruises in places you didn't know existed. You may also end up doing #1, 2, 3 and/or 4.
Telling that married guy from accounting that you think he's really hot. Since you also work in accounting, you will regret this decision to "stop thinking and just do it" Monday morning.
Ending up dismembered and buried in the local dump after letting that guy from California you've been chatting with on the internet come visit you, because WHAT IF HE'S THE ONE? He's the one who killed you now. Don't you wish you had stopped for a minute to THINK?

My point is: do NOT stop thinking and do NOT just do it. That's what boys will tell you when they want to get into your pants to put "just the tip" in. Pretty soon you're 6 months pregnant with herpes and he's nowhere to be found.

So ladies, I'm asking you to trust me on this one. If one of your ass-hat friends or anyone else says "Stop thinking and just do it!" to you, smack them in the face. What? Stop thinking and just do it! Smack 'em RIGHT NOW!

An Open Letter to My Cell Phone, the Moto Q

2009-02-24T10:06:00.000-06:00

Dear Moto Q,

I hate you. I really do. You were good for the first 6 months I had you. You showed me my text messages and emails without fail. You let me search the interwebs while I waited in line at the DMV or the "free clinic" where they helped me with that "mysterious rash". We were friends, Moto Q, and then you had to go and ruin it all.

Remember how you started beeping whenever you felt like it? I'd put you on Silence or Vibrate, and I'd get a "BEEP" out of you an hour later. WTF? Not cool. When I took you to the Verizon store for treatment they said they could do nothing, so I put up with your erratic and untimely beeps.

Then your battery life started to become unreasonably crappy, and when you'd get too low on power your screen would turn white. I thought you were dead, but you were just faking. I'd have to remove your battery before I plugged you back in. Then I'd have to let you juice up for a while before even touching you. Otherwise you'd fake your death yet again.

I could ALMOST deal with all that. Sure, your "camera" took pictures that looked like total shit, and you beeped whenever you wanted, your battery life was awful and your screen went white and ghostly, but I COULD WORK AROUND IT.

Then you officially went bonkers. You lost all my contacts. You were slow as molasses at doing anything I wanted you to do. You were downright disobedient, Moto Q. TWICE. You have lost my contacts and been an asshole TWICE now, and frankly I am fed up.

I guess what I want to say is....You're being replaced. I've met a nice Blackberry and I think I could be really happy with him. I mean, you've seen my boyfriend with HIS Blackberry. It's almost like they're in love. I want that kind of love, Moto Q....and you just aren't providing that for me anymore. If we're being honest, I'm not sure you ever did.

I'm sorry, but it's over....well, it's over at like 4pm today. Don't die on me officially until then, okay? Thanks in advance for your continued service and for not dying until 4pm when I'm ready. I cannot be missing any important text messages from now until then, thanks.

Sincerely,

Miss Minneapolis

Comedy is Not Funny

2009-02-18T10:17:00.000-06:00

Last night Paco and I went to see a Jackie Kashian perform at Acme Comedy Company, which has sort of become a new hangout for us. Jackie was very funny, as were the two dudes before her. Paco and I both had a good time, and spent much of the night laughing (crazy, I know).

Well, to be more accurate, we spent the whole night laughing and people watching. You see, directly across from us there was this school marmish woman who was probably in her 40s. She was very conservatively dressed, complete with pearl earrings, and you could tell that she thought that roughly 94% of every word out of every comic's mouth was vulgar and filthy, and that they were surely going to rot in hell for their language. I have never seen someone so unhappy at a comedy show in all my life. Paco & I became sort of obsessed with her. We'd listen to the jokes and then guage her reaction and inform each other "ooh, she thought that was a funny one", and so forth. It was a pretty fun game. Distracting at times, but fun.

Anyway, I started to think about how sad it would be if I were so tightly wound that even good COMEDY didn't make me laugh. Like, how awful would life be? I wanted to go pull whatever stick she had up her ass right out so she could maybe enjoy herself. Maybe I'd also tell her that Jesus isn't going to send her to hell for listening to curse words. I mean, since Jesus was hanging out with the whores back in the day, something told me he heard a few naughty words himself, right?

My other thought was that maybe she should stick to church or whatever, because most comics aren't exactly Christ-like, you know? In fact, I probably heard the F-word more last night than I have in the past year all together. And as someone who says that a lot myself, that's saying something.

Oh, and by the way: Best. Valentine's. Ever.

Be Mine (and Please Don't Spit Gum in My Hair)

2009-02-13T12:46:00.000-06:00

So, tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Paco and I were talking, and while he has had a girlfriend for EVERY Valentine's Day for the past 8 years (with the exception of last year) I have had a boyfriend for only ONE of those Valentine's Days. And that was a jerk boyfriend WHO (I later learned) HAD ANOTHER GIRLFRIEND AT THE TIME, and did absolutely nothing to mark the day. We broke up 8 days later. Basically, I told Paco that there is virtually no way he could screw this up. I already know he made me a card (awww!) and has dinner reservations, so that right there is a serious improvement over my last 8 V-days. I mean, seriously, the bar is set really, really low. Shamefully low. Like, he would have to spit gum into my hair and leave me stranded in a dark alley to make it the worst Valentine's Day I've had as an adult. I wonder if I shouldn't have told him that? Hmm.... I guess I'd better be on my best behavior tomorrow night.

Have a great weekend, everyone - and a Happy Valentine's Day, whatever you choose to do!

xoxo

Injustice on the Streets of Minneapolis

2009-02-10T10:09:00.000-06:00

I may have mentioned at some point that Paco lives in downtown Minneapolis. So this past Saturday night, I took Otis out by myself around 11pm before bed. It's Minnesota and none too warm out, so I bundled up in my usual get-up: one of Paco's big fluffy jackets that looks sort of like a giant robe on me, a beanie and gloves. Oh, and then I put the hood up on the jacket over the beanie. And I totally wear pants and shoes, I swear. Anyway, when taking Otis out downtown, we have to walk about a block away from Paco's condo because downtown areas don't believe in grass, and Otis doesn't believe in pooping on sidewalks or concrete. So we're walking around this grassy area, and a car drives by. A man lunges his upper body out the car window and yells "HEY BABY!" at me.

But here's the thing - I don't think he was serious. As they drove past, I looked at myself and thought, "well they're just being mean! I look shapeless and ridiculous, and my dog is wearing shoes, and they're making fun of me!" RUDE. I got mad, and hurried Otis so I could march back to Paco's and tell him about this horrible injustice.

"Some guy just yelled 'HEY BABY' at me out of a car window!" I said, angrily.

"So?", he replied.

"Well LOOK AT ME. I look like a shapeless, sad lady with a dog in shoes who has nothing to do on a Saturday night but walk my dog and pick up poo."

[Paco laughs.]

"You know, I had half a mind to unzip my big coat and show them what I was working with, and maybe yell back something like 'I am actually quite hot when I make the effort!!'"

He thought this was ridiculous. "Honey, you are the only person I know who would look at this scenario and see it as a challenge."

Well! I have my honor (i.e. hotness) to defend here, people. Right??

Ellie is Cute

2009-02-05T10:39:00.000-06:00

Is it just me, or has it been forever since I've posted doggy pictures?

It's just me?

Oh.

Well, here you go anyway. Here are some FREAKIN' ADORABLE pictures of my sister's dog, Ellie - a half pug, half French Bulldog puppy mill rescue:

I can't get over how cute she is.

Otis, however, is less impressed:

Adventures in Minneapolis (AKA The One Where I Consider Punching Some Ladies for No Good Reason)

2009-02-03T10:05:00.000-06:00

This weekend was insane. Lately I have been going out so much that I feel like I'm 23 again or something. Friday night Paco and I went out to dinner with some of his business school buddies and their wives, and then ended up at a new wine bar called The Armatage Room. It's a cute little place not far from my house, and they sell you all the wine your little heart could desire. And desire wine my heart did do.

My heart was feeling the same on Saturday night when my friend 'Anastasia' came to visit. After grabbing dinner at my favorite restaurant, French Meadow, we went to meet up with Paco & his friend 'Tiger', who were fending off the "cougars" at the W Hotel bar. Usually Anastasia isn't up for going to such a pretentious place (neither am I), but we made an exception Saturday because we were both dressed up and looking smokin' hot (or so I tend to think after 3 glasses of wine). While we were there, I swear on everything that is holy that some hookers came in. I mean, I have seen some skanky dresses, but this was out of control. I don't really know what else to say. I stared. A lot.

Then we took off because it was time to dance, and the W really isn't a dancing establishment, unless you count that time I . . . oh, never mind. Up next: Imperial Room. This is the second weekend in a row I've ended up there. Earlier in the night Anastasia had told me that she didn't want to see any "sappy love crap" from Paco & me, so I did what any good friend would do: I got her nice and loopy and then pawed my boyfriend all I wanted while she was out dancing. I also spent a good deal of time pointing out attractive men to her and saying things like "go wiggle on that one" or "shake your booty at him and see what happens" - really helpful things, you know? In the meantime, while I'm being a good friend and advocating that my friend wiggle on strangers, some girls approached Tiger and asked "is your boy here with anybody?"

WHAT?!

Now, I don't know why this is, but whenever someone hits on my man, I immediately consider punching them. I'd punch them and say something like "YES HE'S HERE WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND, THAT'D BE ME, NOW MOVE ALONG, BIATCH!" But that reaction also happens to coincide with # of drinks consumed. I was an econ major, so let me show you this graphically:

That yellow dot indicates where I was on the continuum Saturday night. So after a little glaring and groping, with a couple of empty threats thrown in no particular direction since Tiger wouldn't tell me which ladies were after my man, I calmed down and realized that I have 2 choices here: 1) Date an unattractive man who ladies find so hideous looking that they wouldn't even consider hitting on him, or 2) keep dating my hottie and deal with the fact that I'll never be the only person who realizes what a catch he is. I'm choosing option 2 for right now.

Anyway, fast forward to 12:30am. Paco and I are ready to leave. We're tired, we have a superbowl party to host Sunday, and we're tired. This is when I go up to Anastasia and say "So...we're thinking about heading out."

[Angry face.] "No. We're getting another drink."

And that was that. We got another drink and then another, and stayed 'til bar close. I think I'm getting too old for this.

Absurd Email Threads: Miss Minneapolis & Paco - The Early Days

2009-01-30T11:22:00.000-06:00

Paco and I were reminiscing earlier this week about our week long email exchange prior to our first date. We went back and re-read them, and it was actually really fun. I'm going to share a little excerpt, but first I need to give you some context.

As it turns out, Paco and I had a class together our second to last semester (and I guess 2 more before that, neither of which I remember - still a sore spot with Mr. Paco). The class I DO remember having with him was called "Managerial Presentations: Strategies & Skills" or something like that. It really should be a required course. Anyway, there were only 20 students in the class and each of us presented something each day. In the beginning, content wasn't important - the professor said we could talk about anything, but the whole point was to work on mannerisms and delivery, right? Well, give ME a chance to talk about "anything" and you're gonna hear something about animals - specifically, Otis. So one day I gave a little presentation about my dog and his many outfits. Yes, I was very professional in this setting, thank you for noticing. Okay, that should do - now here's the exchange:

Me: Okay, okay, what do you do for [corporation] then? Give lots of interesting and dynamic presentations in a strong, yet respectful tone of voice, with appropriately timed hand gestures?

Paco: Actually, what I do at [corporation] IS give lots of interesting and dynamic presentations. Truth be told, for my final interview I had to give a sample presentation to a panel of executives. I didn't have much time to prepare, so I ended up just using (i.e., stealing) your presentation about your dog. It apparently went over well...so, thanks.

Me: You're welcome for the presentation about my dog. That one ALWAYS goes over well - especially with the big executive types. It says "yeah, I'm a professional man and I take my job seriously, but I also know how to let loose by dressing my dog up in t-shirts and jeans". If that doesn't garner respect, I don't know what will. Oh wait - I do: in one of my classes somehow the topic of Oprah came up (maybe because of me) and SOMEHOW I became the class expert. I swear I only watch her show, like, 4 times a week. It's on more than that, just so you know (5 times). I am pretty sure people respected me a LOT for my brain in that class. Yep. For sure.

Paco: I feel a slight obligation to forward your name and photo to Oprah’s Head of Security. Out of curiosity, what is it like to be a stalker?

And that, my friends, is how I won this man over. I am smooth, no?

Ladies, Cross Your Legs

2009-01-23T10:29:00.000-06:00

It's been settled, everyone: ladies shouldn't have sex on the first date. Some old British dude made up a mathematical equation that says so, and my guess is that British men under age 35 are toilet papering his lawn as I write this. Everyone knows that if math confirms it, it's true, so ladies of the world are immediately going to stop bumpin' uglies with dudes early in the courtship. According to the old British dude:

...a woman increases her chances of getting a "good" man by not sleeping with a partner straight away. They used a numerical model to show that better partners were willing to date for a longer time before having sex, but "bad" men were more reluctant to hang around.

That just blows my mind (not really). Jerks who just want sex won't wait around if you're not giving them what they want? That is absolutely shocking (not in the slightest).

I feel kind of sad for this professor guy. I mean, he probably put a lot of time and effort into developing this equation that is totally, completely unnecessary. He goes on to say:

"The strategic problem a female faces is how to screen out bad males, and this is where long courtship comes into play. A male is assumed to always want to mate with a female, but a good male is more willing to pay the cost of a long courtship to claim the prize of mating."

I love the wording of this. Let me paraphrase: "Men always want sex, but a decent man will put up with your terrible personality for awhile if he's desperate enough to get laid. Ladies, make him earn it."

I get what this guy is saying, but what I struggle with is the flip side of this. I've heard guys say that if a girl has sex right away, he wouldn't consider her long-term dating and/or marriage material. Hey, that's another way to tell if the guy you're dating is a douche bag! Men who have issues with a woman's sexuality strike me as sort of....well, annoying. And maybe sexist. Probably communist too.

I personally think that if two people connect, how quickly in their courtship they sleep together won't really matter.

Thoughts?

Christmas CPK

2009-01-21T12:28:00.000-06:00

There is a Christmas story that my mother loves to tell every year. The year was 1983. Little Miss Minneapolis was but a wee lass of 3.5 years old, and wanted nothing more than her very own Cabbage Patch Kid doll. They were all the rage and I was nothing if not a bandwagon jumper. Well, to be fair, I loved dollies a WHOLE lot as a child, and Cabbage Patch Kids were basically the be all and end all of dollies. I HAD to have one. The only problem was that they were difficult to procure at that time. Remember the whole "Tickle Me Elmo" craze? That's how it was for CPK's that year, so my mother and father couldn't get one. Knowing I would be very disappointed if I didn't get one, my mother found someone who would make a look-a-like Cabbage Patch Doll.

I have very few memories from my childhood, but I distinctly remember waking up at the crack of dawn that Christmas morning to go see what Santa brought me. I ran to the stocking and found a brown paper sack rolled over and taped shut with my name on it (Santa wasn't very fancy, it's true). I opened it up to find my knock-off doll. She was BEAUTIFUL - everything I wanted. Sure, she was a little bigger than a "real" CPK, and her face was a little wonky compared to the real dolls, but to a 3 and a half year old, she was PERFECT.

I pulled her out of the bag and ran straight to my parents' bedroom, brimming with toddler excitement. Jumping up onto their bed at an ungodly hour, I woke them up: "Mommy, mommy, mommy! LOOK what Santa brought me!", I exclaimed, thrusting my new doll in her face. Then my mother tells me I paused, looked at the doll, and then looked back at her and said, "I knew I was good this year, but I didn't know I was THIS good."

What a dork I was. That's me pretending that my baby sister is actually a doll. She looks .... scared. On the right is Rebecca, my CPK dream-doll, and on the left is some red-headed doll I was forced to play with because I couldn't find any better dolls. The end.

The Family Motto

2009-01-16T09:37:00.000-06:00

Well, I think my family and I may have officially scared the bejeebies out of Paco last night. We were all having dinner at my sisters' place when somehow Miranda started talking about one of her ex-boyfriends, a guy who is now fondly called "Devil Spawn" in our household. He earned it, people, trust me.

Throughout their tumultuous 2 and a half year long relationship, he managed to "borrow" about a thousand dollars from her. When they broke up under less-than-ideal circumstances (I believe he got engaged. To someone else.), he refused to pay her back (surprise!). Lucky for her, she had something of his in her possession: a giant book of CDs (that'd be compact discs, not certificates of deposit--I know that can be confusing). Anyway, in order to recoup some of her money, we decided to put all those CDs up for sale on Ebay.

I, personally, spent many, many hours managing the sale of these CDs because she was still a very busy student at the time, and something of a wreck on top of it. I meticulously posted each one and when sold, I packaged and shipped each one to its proper destination. Devil Spawn repeatedly threatened Miranda for those CDs, so I eventually sent him an email. It went a little something like this:

Dear Devil Spawn:
I understand you are looking to purchase some music. I wanted to let you know that I currently have quite a collection up for sale on Ebay. My username is ____ and all my offerings can be found by searching for that name. I'd be more than happy to send you these discs if you would like to purchase them back fair and square, and let me tell you, some of them are QUITE A DEAL! I mean, I would bet that people might even be wondering if they're "hot" because of how cheaply I've priced some of them...but, as they say, possession is 9/10ths of the law! Happy bidding!
-Miss Minneapolis

He didn't like it, but then again, WE DIDN'T CARE. We ended up making about $500 back, and I think what I didn't sell, I probably threw away.

At any rate, this story comes up, and Paco sits there listening intently, jaw dropped in what appeared to be a state of shock. At some point he made a comment about whether or not this had been a very nice thing to do, to which I said:

"Honey, we have a saying in our family. It goes like this: 'Don't F*$% with us.'. As long as you follow that simple rule, you have nothing to worry about." *Smiles*

We have a date tonight. I wonder how that will go?

------------

Update: I just emailed Paco asking if I could post this. He responded 'yes', but then said this: "I'm never leaving any of my favorite pairs of shoes at your house."

Hm. Fair enough, I guess.

If I Went Missing...

2009-01-15T10:12:00.000-06:00

I had a strange thought last night (who, me?) as I was walking home from my sisters' place (a whole 2 blocks) in -15 degree weather. I saw a suspicious looking car parked near my house (it was suspicious only because I've never seen it before), and I thought about how when people go missing, there is always a description of what they were wearing when last seen. Had I gone missing last night, this would be mine:

When last seen, Miss Minneapolis was wearing oversized orange sweatpants, a matching orange hoodie sweatshirt, a big brown parka, white fleece gloves, and ridiculous looking pink and gray snow boots. She was wearing no makeup and her hair was greasy from a recent massage. Miss Minny was walking her beloved black and white Boston Terrier who was dressed in a red, white and gold letterman's jacket and 4 black booties. The dog responds to the names "Otis", "Oti", "Monster", and "Monkey".

(Okay, so maybe that was a little verbose, but you get the general picture here.)

Man, that is depressing. I mean, I think people would assume I lived in an insane asylum based on that description. Not exactly what I'm going for. Anyway, it was then that I thought maybe I should put more effort into my appearance on days where I think I might get kidnapped.

In other news, Otis will not take his booties off anymore. Sometimes I can get one off, but then he runs away from me so I can't get the rest off. It's not because it hurts to remove them or anything--I think he just likes wearing them. A few nights ago he slept with 2 of them on. Last night he slept with all 4. He is the weirdest little dog ever.

De-lurk, and Help a Sister Out

2009-01-14T11:59:00.000-06:00

Look, we have a few things to talk about, peeps. First off, I guess it's "de-lurking week". That means that all you folks who read MDM but never comment are required to comment this week - on this post. Say hi, stay for some coffee, whatever. De-lurk!

Now, as you're thinking about what to write in your comment, I'd like you to address a couple of my questions.

I am thinking about re-designing the blog. Nothing outrageous, just a new look. Good idea or bad idea? LET ME KNOW.
Remember how this blog used to be about all the weird-ass dates I went on? That was fun - well, it was fun to write about and probably fun for you to read, but I in no way want to return to those days of disappointment after disappointment. I will keep my Paco and relationship bliss, thankyouverymuch. HOWEVER, I do realize that the tone/theme of the blog has changed quite a bit. I mean, I used to write about dating etiquette, my advice for men and women, online dating experiences and etiquette, and I definitely gave out relationship advice left and right, despite never having had a functional relationship at that point. It was fun times! Anyway, the point is that the blog has changed, and I don't really know what it's about anymore. Dogs? Being in love? Random crap?? WHAT IS IT? So, I want your help - if MDM is to continue, what should I be writing about? I have lost some of my motivation and am not even really sure if people want to read this crap anymore....so, leave a comment with a suggestion PLEASE. Oh, and if that comment is "I hate you!", try to make it as tactful as possible. I can be somewhat emotionally fragile (and crazy). It's for your own safety, really.

I love you all - now go de-lurk and help a sister out while doing so! Thanks in advance.

__________

Incidentally, I realize there are a lot of links in this post. They're not really worth reading, but I figured if you wanted to re-live MDM Old-School, I'd make it easier for you. Because I'm sweet like that.

I Have Really Messed Up This Time

2009-01-12T10:57:00.000-06:00

My friend Becky sent me a pretty scathing email this weekend and I thought I would share it. I'd also like to offer my sincerest apologies to anyone else who feels the way Becky does. My relationship with Paco has seriously cut into my TV watching time, and people like Becky (and perhaps you?!) are suffering as a result:

____________

Minny,
I need to be very upfront and clear with you about something. I know confrontations are not your "thing" and I don't want to strain our otherwise awesome friendship, but I have to get this off my chest. So, here goes....

...I was TOTALLY counting on you to watch MTV's new "Bromance" reality TV show and blog about it, so that the rest of us would not have to watch it. I mean, seriously, this is probably the single most monumental, life-altering television event to hit America since, maybe, "The Newlywed Game," and you are totally AWOL???!!!??? Are you KIDDING me? The first episode came, the first episode left, without my eyes touching any moment of it, and I eagerly monitored MDM for the reliable updates that would introduce me to the things I most needed to know. (Can Frankie Delgado get over his homophobia enough to clear a path for New England dancer Gary and his manly chin to two step right up to a lifelong friendship with Brody? Is there any coincidence that the one black guy, a Nigerian nursing student, has the feminine name "Femi," and will Kentucky jock/SAE frat president Chris P ever let him live it down? Will self-proclaimed socialite Michael's swanky Hugo Boss wardrobe be enough to overcome the fact that he's got just two too many chins to be considered cool enough to hang with these guys? Will there be any guy-on-guy action?)

Sweet Jesus, girl! You've let us down. You have let us down.

Because of your selfish neglect, I had to watch an episode myself. About two minutes into it, my eyes started bleeding. And then the left one popped right out of my head. I'm typing this to you completely from memory of the QWERTY keyboard because I can't see a damn thing now. Words cannot express my grief!

But hey. Otis's cute little frozen paws are really important, right?

Seriously.

Becky

Otis Brings Sexy Back

2009-01-06T08:20:00.000-06:00

Otis doesn't do very well in the cold. Boston Terriers in general just aren't made for the cold, but add to that the fact that my BT is especially wimpy (sorry, Oti) and it basically means that he can't stand being out in sub-zero weather for longer than about 30 seconds. He'll go outside and then start shaking, and then freeze in place like he can't possibly go a step further. Sometimes he'll stand on 3 legs, alternating the leg that is up so that he can warm up his feet. It's pretty pathetic looking.

To remedy the situation, I decided to outfit him appropriately for these frigid temperatures. I purchased a nice letterman's jacket (so sporty!) at Target, and some booties from a local Minnesota company. Anyway, the first time Otis wore the booties, he walked like he was suffering from a severe disability. So I did what any good mother would do - I laughed. A lot. Then Paco took him out on his first bootie-clad voyage. He reported back to me that at first Otis acted like he couldn't possibly walk with these things on....then he walked like an idiot...then all of a sudden he jetted off quick as a bunny, with Paco in tow.

Relieved, Paco ran along with him. Shortly thereafter, however, he discovered that Otis had kicked off one of his back booties. Apparently wearing 4 booties was far too restrictive, but 3 did the trick. For a while, we just used 3 booties, thinking that maybe that's what he preferred. The only problem was that he then started walking like a 3 legged dog - using only the legs that had booties. It didn't matter which 3 feet we put the booties on - he would always lift up the naked one and walk like that. It looked ridiculous. SO, back to 4 booties. But back to walking like this:

Awesome, right? Yep, so I walk around with a dog who is not only dressed up, but walks like he has something pretty seriously wrong with him. On the up side, he definitely seems to like the fact that his paws stay warmer . He's all smiles about it, in fact:

"Just Dance!"

2009-01-05T11:49:00.000-06:00

Ok, enough of that mushy stuff. Let's talk about something really important.

Have you all heard that song "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga? I really enjoy the song because it's catchy and who doesn't like to belt out "JUST DANCE!"? I know I do. Anyway, the thing about that song, though, is that the lyrics are absolutely RIDICULOUS. Here's a sampling:

I've had a little bit too much, much
All of the people start to rush.
Start to rush by.
A dizzy twister dance
Can't find my drink or man.
Where are my keys, I lost my phone, phone.
What's going on on the floor?
I love this record baby, but I can't see straight anymore.
Keep it cool, what's the name of this club?
I can't remember but it's alright, alright.

[Chorus:]
Just dance. Gonna be okay.
Da-doo-doo-doo
Just dance. Spin that record babe.
Da-doo-doo-doo
Just dance. Gonna be okay.
Duh-duh-duh-duh
Dance. Dance. Dance. Just dance.

Um.... Okay. Let's review. This girl has gotten so drunk that she:

1) Can't find her drink, her man, her keys or her phone.

2) Can't see straight anymore.

3) Can't remember where it is that she is "just dancing".

This is not going to end well.

Wish I could shut my playboy mouth.
How'd I turn my shirt inside out? Inside out, right.

See? I told you. Now her skirt is INSIDE OUT. As far as that's concerned, I am pretty sure one has to actually first remove a shirt to then put it on inside out. And she can't find her man, so who exactly did she take that shirt off for?

I think Lady Gaga's (if that is her real name) boyfriend needs to look into this.

Anyway, this is what the youth of America is listening to. Is it any wonder we're in a recession? For crying out loud...

2008: The Year of Paco

2009-01-01T18:52:00.000-06:00

So, it's New Year's Day, and that can only mean one thing....

Male strippers!

Just kidding, I don't objectify men. I only objectify my boyfriend, and that's because he likes it.

What it really means is an MDM recap for 2008. I was reading my recap from 2007 and got pretty depressed. Sorry about that, folks. What can I say, it wasn't the best of years. Anyway, that got me thinking about how much a person's life can change in just a year....in just a moment, really. I mean, I think back to the evening I got a Facebook friend request from a business school classmate - whom we now all know as "Paco" - and it's incredible how much that one little moment would end up changing my life so much.

I mean, I don't want to sound dramatic or anything, but meeting him really has changed my life, and entirely for the better. When we met, we both had been feeling pretty skeptical about the dating scene. I thought I'd surely die alone, he thought he'd be an eternal bachelor since he was Mr. Dates-A-Different-Girl-Every-Night-of-the-Week at the time. As excited as we both were about going on our first date, I don't think either of us expected it to turn out the way it has.

The biggest lesson I have learned in 2008 is that there is something indefinably wonderful about being with someone who loves you just as you are. I honestly have never had that in my whole life. Boyfriends and pseudo-boyfriends have always wanted to change something about me, or have made me feel badly about the way I do things or how I feel or what I say or SOMETHING. Since Day 1 with Paco, there has been nothing but acceptance, despite the fact that we certainly don't agree on a number of things. I kind of don't get it - like it can't be real. Every time I've had some sort of issue to bring up that maybe wouldn't be pleasant, I've do so thinking "well, this time he's definitely going to tell me I'm crazy and then bail." And then I'd wait. And wait. And wait. And he didn't tell me I'm crazy, and he didn't want to bail. It is probably really sad that I'm 28 years old and have never experienced this before, isn't it? Well, better late than never, right? Or something.

Anyway, when I look back on 2008, I am certain that meeting him was the most significant thing to have happened. It defines 2008, despite the fact that I didn't even meet him until the year was half over. The best thing about our relationship? We totally bicker and make fun of each other, and goof around all the time....and yet, we can talk about ANYTHING, no matter how serious or unpleasant or awkward. And strangely, even the things that should be awkward aren't awkward with him.

I don't know what 2009 has in store for me, or for this relationship, but for the first time in a while, I am looking into the year ahead with optimism and excitement. No matter what unfolds, I know that I will be grateful for this experience. It makes me so happy that I didn't settle for being with someone who didn't accept me for everything that I am: my insecurities and neuroses; my independence and stubbornness; my odd sense of humor and immaturity countered by my intensity and seriousness; my love of animals and subsequent food choices; my penchant for leaving mascara stains on his towels and used tissues in his sweatshirt pockets; and, well, everything else!

I really didn't think a guy as great as him was out there....and then he came knocking on Facebook, and I answered--and I sure am happy I did.

Here's to 2009...(I'm holding up a glass of champagne right now) (Not really, but let's pretend).

This is Why I Hate Dive Bars

2008-12-30T11:27:00.000-06:00

Whenever my dear friend Steff visits from D.C., we usually make an effort to gather together a few people from our undergrad days. A few weeks ago, she came into town for Thanksgiving, and we did just that. The thing you need to know about Steff is that she also came from a very small town, so we have a lot of things in common. For example, we both know the joys and wonder of attending "tractor pulls", and we both had never met a Jewish person or a Muslim or an atheist or...- I think you're seeing the pattern here - until we were 18. No, really.

Anyway, one thing we do NOT have in common, however, is our taste in drinking establishments. I really, really detest dive bars, and Steff feels right at home in them. You'd think I would too considering that's the only kind of bar that exists in small towns in the Midwest....but you'd be wrong. I just hate them. Anyway, because I want to be a good host, but also don't want to have a terrible time, the two of us have to compromise. Steff doesn't like fancier bars, and while I'm not saying I'm into the whole snob scene, I don't mind an upscale establishment every now and again. I guess I could sum it up by saying that I like bars that don't smell like feces and don't have lewd writing on the walls of the bathroom. Call me crazy!

Okay, where was I? Oh yes, so Steff was in town and we got a couple of people to come out. The plan was to go to the Bulldog in uptown, because that is an "in-between" bar. The three of us - Paco, Steff & I - walk into the Bulldog and see immediately that it's packed. It's not a very big place and every table was taken, and the standing room was limited. Boo, hiss! We walk back out and Steff sees the C.C. Club across the street. I know I am doomed. Immediately she suggests we go there. I died a little inside, because I hate that place. I know it's a "Minneapolis institution" or whatever (so I'm told), but I hate it. Being a good sport, though, I said "sure, let's go there, how bad could it be?"

We get there, grab a booth, and greet our undergrad peops as well as Paco's best friend. Then, I do what I always do: I order wine.

Yes, I know, I am an asshole. Who orders wine at the C.C. Club? Here's the problem though: I don't really like beer, and I like the vodka a little too much--meaning I tend to black out if I drink vodka. It happens pretty quickly too. I decided I'd rather drink bad wine than a) drink beer or b) black out. Cost-benefit analysis there, people.

Okay, so I order wine, and it SUCKS, but I expected this, so whatever. I drink the wine. Things are going along as well as can be expected, and I am trying my best not to scream "I HATE THIS PLACE SO MUCH WHY AM I HERE?", when all of a sudden, in the booth right next to us, a dude stands up and VOMITS all over the table.

I know Steff & co. were upset by this because it basically proved my point as to why dive bars suck.....and also because it made our entire section smell like vomited up booze. Maybe the latter upset them more, it's hard to say.

Then something pretty amazing happened. Everyone at that booth got up & left (that's not the amazing part - and not very surprising either), but the wait staff was there within, like, 20 seconds armed with gear to clean up table vomit. It was almost like they expected it - like it happens with some frequency. This is a good thing, right? The only thing is that it again proves my point. I mean, if you go to a nicer place, you don't ever see someone throw up on the tables. Ever. And if someone did, I don't think the staff would know what exactly to do. BECAUSE THINGS LIKE THAT AREN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. They just aren't.

Do you know what? We stayed. We stayed in that very same booth, even though there was now a vomit smell, which was masked by industrial strength cleaners, in all fairness. Yep, we stayed there, and we watched as some poor suckers came in and sat at that booth a few minutes later. I thought about telling them, "hey, some douche bag just vomited there like 2 minutes ago", but I opted not to. It was then that I realized that our table had probably been ralphed on earlier in the day anyway, so what's the big deal?

Then I drank more wine. A lot more wine.

The end.

Christmas 2008

2008-12-27T09:35:00.000-06:00

Hi everyone! Merry holidays and such!

Guess how I've been spending my holiday time? Lying on a couch nursing 2 ear infections and a touch of bronchitis. It has been a joy beyond all joys, as you might imagine!

Here's a short story for you that illustrates how eventful my life has been this week: last night I had 3 dogs in bed with me - my little Otis, and my sisters' dogs Ellie and Charlie. At one point I got up to use the restroom. When I returned, I was overwhelmed by a stench so strong that I thought surely one of them had pooped on the floor in my absence. I turned on the light and looked around and there was nothing....apparently that is what a bedroom full of flatulent dogs smells like. You learn something new every day, I guess!

That is probably the most exciting thing that's happened to me this week. I'm serious.

Oh, and by the way: staycation was awesome. It was 7 full days of Paco & Miss Minny and almost nothing else and I didn't even get tired of him. I can't say the same for him, but whatever.

With that, I bid you adieu! Otis & Charlie say Merry Christmas! Doesn't Otis make a jovial Santa Claus? Yes, I think so too.

Staycation, Here I Come!

2008-12-12T10:00:00.000-06:00

In about 5.5 hours, I will be free from work for 9 days. I'm taking all of next week off so that I can do whatever the heck I want. Paco and I had talked about going somewhere romantic, like Napa Valley, and then we remembered that we live in the most romantic city in the world already anyway, so why bother! So yes, we're taking next week off to pretend that we're somewhere else. That should be pretty easy what with the tropical temperatures we're experiencing lately. Today, for example, it is -1 degree (that's -18C for you international folks). I mean, we might as well just find a pond and go skinny dipping all week! I'm adding that to our schedule right now.

Anyway, I thought it would be a fun idea if each of us takes one of our staycation days to plan activities for the whole day and surprise the other person. This is quite a development for me because I don't deal well with surprises. One year my sister threw me a surprise birthday party, but because I am impossible to deal with, she essentially had to tell me that she was throwing me a surprise party so I wouldn't make other plans. I'm sure that was fun for her.

Paco, on the other hand, is very much in to surprises. Every few weeks he'll ask me to save a date on my calendar but won't tell me why because it's a surprise, right? I torment him with questions like, "can I have a hint?" and "what kind of outfit should I wear?" and "will we be walking far (I need to know what shoes are appropriate)?" and so on. Then, given the answers to my questions, I'll scour the internet looking for local events that might fit the bill. I know, I am mature, aren't I? I just can't take the anticipation!

Anyway, the point is that I decided I would be mature and deal with having an entire day planned by him and that I wouldn't ask what we're doing or try to figure it out via sneaky methodology. This is HUGE for me! So, what do I have planned for MY day of fun, you might be wondering? Well, since Paco only reads this blog if/when forced (I know, lame, right?) I feel like I can share it with you all:

- Sleep in until 10am or later

- Eat big breakfast

- Watch TV and fall asleep on couch

- Eat big lunch

- Take post-lunch nap

- Go out drinking!

Doesn't that sound lovely? And original? I think he'll be blown away by my creativity and awesomeness.

Okay, seriously guys, help. What are some good ideas for me? I need something interesting and original and possibly romantic (woowoo!). Leave suggestions in the comments, please.

Oh, and chances are I won't be around much next week. Sorry. I'll let you know how the staycation goes upon my return, though - never fear!

Love you all. Have a great week at work, ~~suckas~~ friends!

Otis is Manly and Helpful

2008-12-10T15:19:00.000-06:00

This morning I had a plumber come to my house to do some work (no, that is not a euphemism). I have the hardest water (again, not a euphemism) in America, and to remedy that I purchased a water softener. This is one of the most exciting things to happen to me in a while, mostly because I am old and lame and was about ready to break all my dishes in a fit of rage due to the hard water stains all over them.

Okay, calming down.

Anyway, I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but Otis loves men. LOVES them. I think the person who had him before me must have been a very nice man or something, because if there's a man around, Otis is sucking up to him, guaranteed. This is probably why my dad likes Otis so much. This is probably also why I'm starting to get jealous of how well Otis & Paco are getting along. I'm not gonna lie - I am having a hard time with being ignored by my little canine buddy whenever Paco is around. But I guess it's better than the alternative, right?

So, the plumber comes in and Otis goes nuts: "A MAN! YAY!!! This must be my lucky day." He proceeds to attack the plumber with affection. Then, for the next 2 hours while the dude is installing this water softener, Otis stood nearby watching him carefully, almost as if he were trying to learn how to be a plumber himself. Occasionally he'd get close to the man and try to lick his jeans - sometimes successfully. The plumber was nice enough to let Otis stick around and actually seemed to like the company, but I was a little embarrassed that my dog would rather hang out with a stranger than with me. For some reason Otis thinks it's more fun to watch a man install equipment than it is to watch me put on makeup. Lame!

Maybe he is compensating for the fact that I dress him up all the time? Well, at least I dress him in manly outfits. What more can he possibly want??

Dirty Girl

2008-12-08T07:38:00.000-06:00

So, I am kind of messy. I live by myself with a dog and a cat and don't really care all that much if the place is overly tidy. There are approximately 233,573,847 things I would rather do when I get home from work than clean my house. I usually manage to do all those things instead of cleaning too, don't you worry.

Anyway, Paco is basically the exact opposite of me. His place is always spotless. If I leave hair ties or bobby pins on his bathroom sink, they are put away in his linen closet faster than you can say "I was gonna USE those again someday. Maybe.". So far, despite our differences, this really hasn't been an issue for us. If we lived together I'm sure it would prove to be a problem at some point, but for now we both just deal with the other person's rules (me having almost none; him having several).

Normally I am okay with my messiness. But I sort of had a wake up call the other day. You see, I keep a trash can in my bedroom closet, and the other day Paco saw me throw a used tissue or something into the closet. And then he said "do you have a trash can in there or did you just throw a used kleenex in your closet?" It was then that I realized perhaps I have let things get too out of control. My boyfriend thinks I throw trash in my closet. That is not a good sign, right?

At first I was insulted. "WHY would I just throw trash in my closet???" Then I remembered that hey, maybe I would throw trash in the closet. I mean, I DON'T, but it's not really that far off. So I think it's time to make a change, folks. I need to get my act together and start being anal retentive about things like "putting dishes away" and "taking out the trash" and "picking up piles of poop". (That last one was a joke, I swear. I have been using the toilet exclusively for months now.) Anyway, maybe this will be my New Year's Resolution? That gives me almost another month to live like a slob, and this really is something one should ease into, right?

And They Lived Happily Ever After...

2008-12-05T10:30:00.000-06:00

Good news, everyone! Spencer Pratt and Heidi Montag finally got married! Isn't that exciting? I know you're all probably just as excited as I am at the possibility of those two crazy kids breeding someday and naming their child Stapler Salt Calculator Pratt or something equally as awesome. I just looked at things on my desk and that's how I named their kid. Don't ask about the salt. Anyway, little Stapler will be so handsome, with hair the color of icicles and skin as pasty as mine. It will be glorious.

My favorite part of this whole wedding story, though, is how supportive Heidi's mom has been. Here are just a few things she's said since finding out about their elopement:

“He’s manipulative and seems to have power over Heidi. I would like to see a blood test from Mexico. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had her drugged.”
“Spencer has tried to cut everyone out of her life. I’ve been honest with Heidi, and it’s caused our relationship to decline. I’m more devastated about that than the marriage, because I’m confident the marriage won’t work out.”
“God says love your enemies, but I never expected it to be my son in law.”
When asked how long does she think they will last in marriage? “Six months,” she said. "I think it's the biggest mistake Heidi's ever made."

HAHAHA. Talk about supportive! I hope that if I get married someday my mother will be this warm and welcoming to my new husband. Doesn't every girl dream of that? The other thing I have to point out to Heidi's mom is that Heidi really is no prize herself. I mean, they kind of deserve each other. Can she do better? I'm not so sure.

More than likely, this is all just a publicity stunt. Heidi & Spencer don't really have talent, per se, but what they can do is drum up some publicity. Good work, guys. And enjoy the rest of your lives (or 6 months, whatever the case may be) together!

Cutest Dog in America

2008-12-04T09:37:00.000-06:00

In this last one, he had just finished eating a plate of baked beans. You can see the remnants on his chin:

Curse You, Indian Buffet!

2008-12-02T12:40:00.000-06:00

I work in the suburbs. Add to that the fact that I'm vegan and the closest eateries are a Burger King and a Dairy Queen (Ha! King & Queen!) and you can probably imagine that my lunch options tend to be somewhat limited. I try to bring lunch most days, but when I am too lazy to do that I have to brave the cold and go find something acceptable to eat. One of the places I like is an Indian restaurant that has an amazing buffet that always has 2-4 vegan dishes plus rice and all that jazz. The staff there knows me so well at this point that as soon as I walk in, someone yells "CHAPATI TO GO!" back to the kitchen. You see, the naan they have out at the buffet has dairy in it and they know I don't eat dairy so they make me a special bread - chapati. Isn't that nice of them? It is. I kind of love it that I don't even have to ask anymore. At the same time, maybe I go there too often if they know what I want as soon as I darken their doorstep? Tough to say, really.

Anyway, even though I feel a little self conscious about the entire staff knowing who I am and what I like to eat, that feeling doesn't really compare to the other problem I have with Indian Buffet. And that, my friends, would be the feeling of having eaten so much I'm not sure I'll live. That's how I feel RIGHT NOW. The thing is, this place charges you a flat fee regardless of how much food you fit into their to-go containers, and since I am sort of cheap when it comes to lunch, I fill that sucker to the max. The plan is always that I'll fill it super full and make it into 2 lunches, because no one should pay $10.50 for ONE lunch, right? Right. So it makes sense to fill it until there's curry coming out both sides. Then I can eat it two days in a row - yay!

What might be the problem with this little plan, you ask? I can't stop eating Indian Buffet. I eat it until it's all gone, and then not only have I spent a whopping $10.50 on ONE lunch, but I've also made myself sick. This makes absolutely no sense on my part, and yet I do it 9.8 times out of 10 (I think I've actually succeeded in my plan maybe twice ever).

So here I sit: full and sick and loathing myself. I'm currently planning my workout for the evening. I'm budgeting 4 hours for it. That may not be enough.

Damn you, Indian Buffet, DAMN YOU!

This is a True Story. I Swear.

2008-11-27T10:26:00.000-06:00

The other day, Paco and I were walking around downtown doing some shopping. You see, I need a simple black cocktail dress for my friend Christine's wedding, and while you'd think there would be a million of those this time of year, apparently none of them were made to fit me. So, it's been something of a struggle finding what I want.

Anyhoo, we hop on the escalator minding our own beeswax when suddenly there is some rather loud humming noise coming from behind us. I identify the noise as humming only because there really isn't anything better to call it. It surely wasn't singing, though it was coming from a woman; and it wasn't talking either. It was a mixture of humming and laughing. Throw a little "this woman is a complete nutjob" and that's kind of what it sounded like.

So we're on the escalator, right? And I look over at Paco and he looks at me, and it's obvious that both of us are creeped out but want to burst out laughing. Amazingly, we maintain our composure and get to the second floor successfully. After walking several steps, it is plain to us that this woman is right on our heels, still making the crazy-humming-singing-laughing-nutjob noise. So we hurriedly walk to the sunglasses section in an attempt to escape. She follows. I make a comment or two about how sunglasses make my face sweat (true story) and Paco & I exchange glances again.

We start walking and she's on our heels again, so we stop and admire some piggy banks. SOME PIGGY BANKS! Surely this woman has no need for piggy banks. Perhaps she did need sunglasses and it was just a coincidence, right? But now we're at piggy banks, and no one needs those, so she'll probably continue on her merry way, I thought. But she didn't. She stopped and looked at piggy banks, all the while maintaining this humming noise peppered with an eerie bout of laughter here and there.

At this point, I'm starting to think she is gearing up to stab us or rob us. Maybe both. I grab Paco's hand and drag him over to the dress section. Creepy McCreeperson follows, right on our heels. A sales person approaches and asks us "are you finding everything alright?" to which CC says - AND I QUOTE - "the three of us? Yeah, we're finding everything okay."

Enter scary music (where "scary music" actually means "more creepy humminglaughter").

Seriously, this was basically the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. I think. Anyway, at that point we decided to get the hell out of dodge sans new dress. Luckily, the sales woman engaged CC in a conversation and we busted out of there. I half expected to see a news story that night about a sales lady getting murdered at Macy's by a deranged former pop star....but I didn't. Apparently she was just weird?

You Know It's Bad When....

2008-11-21T12:59:00.000-06:00

...money is so tight you start trying to pay your bills with (not very good) drawings of spiders. Click here to read the funniest email exchange ever - and I don't even care if it's real or not. (Thanks to Steff for sending that gem along. That made my day.)

And it's good SOMETHING made my day after I found out what Ashlee Simpson and her guy-liner wearing husband Pete Wentz named their son.

Are you ready for this?

Are you sure? Because it's the worst.

"Bronx" "Mowgli" Wentz

I know, I know, it's NOT EVEN A NAME. That's why I had to put it in quotes. I mean, his first name is a place and the middle name is a cartoon character. Or something. Isn't Mowgli from that movie where the little boy grows up raised by a dancing, singing bear or something? Jungle-something-or-other? I don't know, but I do know it's not a real name. I mean, I guess if he were going to be raised by jungle dwelling animals, maybe...

Um, okay. Well, thanks a lot Ashlee & Pete for almost ruining my day. And thank you David Thorne for making my day. Oh, and to the puppy cam, because puppies are cute. (Note: if you click on that link you may never do actual work again....I'm sorry, but it's true.)

Dingleberry Daddy

2008-11-19T13:15:00.000-06:00

You know how on those trashy daytime talk shows they have segments called something like "who's the daddy?"? Well, they do. In particular, Maury Povich does, because he is one classy guy. Anyway, the other day they had a woman on there with a 2 month old daughter, who claimed her ex-boyfriend was the father. The ex-boyfriend said he COULDN'T be the father.

Had he gotten his junk snipped, you're thinking? Nope, he's only 19. Was he sterile? Nope. Was he actually a woman? Don't think so...

No, the reason he claimed there was no way he could be the father was because the baby was a girl and he only has boy-making sperm. DUH. Let me repeat that: he believed that his sperm could only produce baby boys, and because the kid was a girl, she obviously couldn't be his.

Know what? She is his baby.

Isn't it great that this dingleberry will be raising another human being? I have high hopes for that little girl. High hopes indeed.

Where Dreams Come True...

2008-11-13T21:56:00.000-06:00

Why hello! Where on earth have I been if not in Blogland, I bet you are wondering. Well, last weekend I went to Florida to visit my sister and brother-in-law. Florida rocks. Paco accompanied me, and we had a grand time, or at least I had a grand time, and he did a nice job of pretending.

Hold on, Otis is crying because there is something under the couch that he wants.

Okay, I'm back.

It was a biscuit, in case you were wondering. Perhaps he pushed it under there yesterday when he pulled 2 bags of treats off the coffee table and downed most of them and then vomited all over the house and pooped a WHOLE LOT outside later on. PERHAPS.

Where was I?

Anyway, we went to Epcot one day and then a farm animal sanctuary another day, and I have to be honest: even though Disney World says it's the place where dreams come true, my dreams actually didn't come true until the farm sanctuary day. And that made me start to wonder if it's possible that maybe - just maybe - I'm a little odd?

A while ago my friend Ben said something like "each species tends to relate best to other members of its own species", and I thought "well that doesn't make any sense!", and then I realized that yep, I'm the odd ball here. But I just get so unbelievably happy when I'm around animals like this:

I wanted to stuff one of those baby piglets into my purse and take him home & walk him like a doggy and teach him tricks and stuff....but Paco seemed to think that was excessive. I guess dragging him to a farm sanctuary for a day was asking enough though, huh? I suppose I'll take what I can get!

My Worst Week of High School Ever (AKA: A Really Long Story)

2008-11-07T08:36:00.000-06:00

When I was in high school, I had the "incredible honor" of being ~~forced~~ chosen to participate in North Dakota's Girls State Program:

The American Legion Auxiliary Girls State Program has provided High School Juniors all across the country the opportunity to participate in a hands-on citizenship training program for over 60 years. These young ladies learn government by actually creating a mythical state through the election of public officials on local, county, and state levels and then by carrying out the duties of these respective offices.

I didn't really want to go, but my mother said I should because it would be a good experience. It was decidedly not a good experience.

I mean, it sounds like it'd be a real hoot based on the description above, right? We get to create a mythical state! Full of mythical counties! Full of mythical cities! Full of mythical teenage girls! So anyway, you get put into groups of maybe 25 - that's your "city". Several cities make up a county, several counties make up the state - you get the picture. Non-stop fun! Did I mention you had to wear dresses all week long? Yes, because in our mythical state, we are all respectable ladies. Oh, and did I mention that over at Boys State, they got to wear gym clothes and play basketball half the freakin' day? Total equality.

So, why did I have one of the most terrible weeks ever, given the above?

Our city leader got mad at me because I didn't want to run for any kind of office. I wanted to be the city street sweeper or something and she thought that wasn't ambitious enough. Hey, it was summer, I didn't want responsibility and someone has to sweep the mythical streets, they don't just sweep themselves, bitch! Anyway, she didn't like me very much from the get-go.
My roommate was AWFUL. Her name was Cassie. She was really tall, three times my size, with big red hair and big sweaty feet. Now, even back in high school I wasn't the type to dislike anyone based solely on looks, so the only reason I'm telling you what she looked like is because it's actually important for the rest of the story.
Cassie was weird. She cried herself to sleep every night while eating candy bars. Several of them. I felt kind of bad for her, but seriously, what was I supposed to do? Anyway, I'd wake up every morning looking at a girl with a chocolate covered face with 5-6 (full-sized) candy wrappers littering the floor.
Cassie wanted to borrow my shoes - my shoes that were too small for her. I said "ok" because I assumed she'd try them on, see that they didn't fit and choose not to. I was wrong. She wore them, and they were never the same after her sweaty feet. Never. the. same.
Cassie wanted to borrow my CLOTHES. The thing is, I wasn't exaggerating when I said that Cassie was roughly three times my size - I'm talking dress sizes here. I drew the line at that request and then all hell broke loose. But come on - she would have tried them on and RUINED THEM!
Cassie was mean after that. She knew the City leader didn't like me and used it to her advantage. She told Jeanna (the leader) that I made her leave our room so I could talk to my boyfriend, and that I wouldn't let her use the room phone at all. Um, what? I think I retaliated somehow, but I can't really remember what I did (honestly, I would totally share it if I did because I bet it was very clever, knowing me).

So then guess what happened? For the first time in the history of Girls State, a "city" (OUR city) had to meet with all the blue-haired ladies who run the joint. We had to sit around and "talk about our feelings", and I was made to apologize IN FRONT OF EVERYONE for being mean to Cassie, EVEN THOUGH THAT BITCH STARTED IT. We were given a speech (for my benefit I assume) about how being mean to people because they don't look a certain way is not acceptable. I wanted to scream that I wasn't mean to Cassie because she was a Shrek-like freak, but because she was crazy and manipulative....but I just kept my mouth shut. For once.

Anyway: worst week ever.

The end.

Beef Stroganoff Recipe!

2008-11-06T08:13:00.000-06:00

My dad is weird. I think that may be where I get it. So, my dad learned to use the internet kind of late in the game. Now he uses it to procure table saws all across the nation via e-bay and Craigslist. I think he has 12 right now. I'm not kidding. He bought a big trailer under the guise of "helping my sister move" when really I'm pretty sure it was so that he could travel around picking up table saws where ever he goes.

Anyway, because he came to the internet late in the game, he decided to just piggyback on my mom's email address - so they share an address that was originally hers. Occasionally - and I mean VERY occasionally, when we write something to them, he will reply - usually it's our mom who replies. His responses are always between 1 and 4 words long. This is probably because he types using only his index fingers, I think.

This week he decided to "trick" my sister Laura. This was the email exchange:

Hey Mom,
How are you? I'll call you tonight sometime. But I was hoping that when you get a chance you could send me your recipe for beef stroganoff. I can't find one online that sounds / looks like yours!
Love you
Laura
_____________

No problem with that recipe. First you go out in some farmers pasture and shoot a cow. That will give you the beef part( don't mention this part to your sister). The stroganoff part of the recipe is a little more difficult to procure. Stroganoff is a nocturnal plant. During the day they burrow underground and are impossible to find. So, the first thing you have to do is get a hold of some night vision goggles. Stroganoff also has very keen hearing so you will need to sneak up on it wearing soft mocassins(is that how you spell mocassin)? Anyway, grab the stroganoff about 8 inches above the ground and slice it off about 4 inches above ground with your machete(is that how you spell machete)? If you drop the stroganoff into boiling water it will yield the secret to perfect beef stroganoff. MOM

There were a few things that tipped us off that this wasn't our mother, but the biggest one was that she never signs off like that. She always writes "Love, Mom". He's really going to have to work a little harder if he wants to pull the wool over our eyes!

"Butter That Up, Like Corn on the Cob!"

2008-11-03T10:23:00.000-06:00

Last night Paco and I went to the Atmosphere concert at First Avenue. The place was packed and it was a lot of fun. Since Paco had purchased a table, I didn't mind so much that it was packed because I got to sit nicely in the front row on the second level and enjoy the show whilst everyone else was packed like sweaty sardines. Ah, it's nice to be better than everyone else!

HOWEVER, I almost threw down with this chick who was standing behind us. Let me explain the situation to you. No, no, let me SHOW the situation to you. Below is my depiction of how the venue is set up. You can see where Paco & I were sitting, denoted by the blue circle and the green circle. You can then see that Crazy Bitch on Drugs is the yellow jaggedy circle (jaggedy because she's on drugs, you see), and that she is practically on top of me:

WELL. You know how at shows sometimes you'll wave your hands up in the air? Emphasis on "up". Well, CBOD liked to wave her hands OUT in the air - directly over my head, and sometimes between my head and Paco's. I was seriously worried that I was going to lose an ear or something. I mean, it was ridiculous - her hands were whizzing by my face every 1.2 seconds. She really, really liked Atmosphere.

Anyway, this went on for a while, and because I lack the gift of patience, I started to think about grabbing one of her hands and hitting her in the face with it. I'd probably say something like "stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself!", because I am nothing if not mature. But because I was entirely sober and trying to be well-behaved, I turned around and asked her to watch where she was thrusting those hands. She acted like I didn't exist and kept doing her erratic, dangerous arm movements. Paco saw that things were about to escalate and put his hands straight up in the air, in an effort to show her an alternate way to express her love for Atmosphere. She looked at him and said "goawaygoaway!". I turned 17 shades of red and I'm pretty sure that steam actually started to come from my ears.

Because I am resourceful, and equally as bitchy as any girl at any venue in any city in America, I decided that this situation could best be resolved by us standing up, thereby blocking her view of the show. Since our chairs would be behind us, we'd have a built in buffer zone. I am a genius, I thought! So, stand up we did. Ha! Take THAT!

But then CBOD beat me at my own game. Do you know what that crazy hooker did? She climbed over our chairs and STOOD ON MY CHAIR. And her damn arms were still whizzing over my head!

I turned to Paco and said, "will you be upset with me if I get into a girl fight right now?"

I knew the answer: "Yes, I will." No fun, right? I mean, I DO NOT like to be pushed around, and she was not a strong looking girl AND she was clearly high on something. My one-time sobriety was about to benefit me! But nooooo, Paco said I couldn't throw her over the railing! Lame.

Anyhoo, I tried to calm myself. "She is on drugs", I told myself. "She doesn't know what she's doing."

It didn't work very well. Luckily, I think her boyfriend must have grabbed her down off the chair because she wasn't there for long. A little bit later she tapped on Paco's shoulder between songs and said this: "Butter that up, like corn on the cob!"

Um. Yeah. I do not know what that means either.

All in all, maybe it was good that I didn't pummel her. She clearly has some problems - you know, with the drugs, and the terrible fashion sense and the acne and all. Mostly the drugs though. That said, I think I'd smack her if I saw her again. We'll pass each other on the street some day and I'll just whip my purse at her face and she'll be all, "WTF?!" and I'll say "I just buttered that up, like corn on the cob!" and go on my merry way.

Howl-o-ween Monkey!

2008-10-31T07:00:00.000-05:00

As promised, here is Mr. Otis in his Halloween costume. He's a monkey!

When I saw this costume, I HAD to buy it because when he is a cute, good little boy, I call him "Monkey". (When he is naughty, he's my little Monster).

I didn't have anyone to help me pose him, so I had to do what I could by myself. It wasn't very easy, and he didn't like it very much:

And here's a picture so you can see his cute little tail, which he tried to chase for a while after realizing it was there:
I mean, if this little monkey mug doesn't make you smile, I can do no more! Happy Halloween, everyone!

* No animals were harmed in the making of this blog post. Well, not physically anyway. I am still unsure as to how this has affected him emotionally. HOWEVER, he was handsomely rewarded with one of his favorite biscuits afterward. That counts for something, right?

Halloween is for the Birds

2008-10-23T09:32:00.000-05:00

Halloween is fast approaching and while Otis has had his costume for quite some time now, I hadn't decided until this week that I would even get a costume. Because I am not one of those creative types who can devise a brilliant costume out of 3 band aids, a pack of streamers, a Sharpie marker and some tinfoil, I had to do some googling to find some good ideas.

It's been several years since I dressed up for Halloween. The last time I did, I went as an M&M because someone had an M&M costume to lend me and I was lazy. You see, typically I am not much of a Halloween fan - except for the fact that it means I can dress my dog up in something ridiculous and take pictures and post them on the internet. Other than that, I could take it or leave it. Well, I learned a lot during my costume research the past few days. The #1 thing I learned is that Halloween seems to basically be an excuse for women to get dressed up in something super slutty. I mean, going out to the bars on Halloween night has basically got to be a fantasy smorgasbord for men, right? I mean, check it out:

Slutty pirate - Thar she be! She'll walk your plank! (I just made that up right now--so clever!)

Slutty police officer! Handcuffs anyone?

Slutty school girl, for those of you who want to snag a pedophile! (Can someone please explain this male fantasy to me -please??) Although sexy girl scout is even more disturbing.

Slutty nurse (and/or just a regular nurse. I know a lot of nurses and they pretty much all dress like this all the time).

And the ever popular and not at all weird, slutty mental patient!

Wait a minute....does that seem right?

Moving on....I think it goes without saying that no collection would be complete without the sexy french maid costume:

That's hot. So, with all these fantastic choices I bet you're wondering what I decided to be. Despite Paco's wonderful suggestion that we go as Beauty and the Beast ("you get a Beast costume and I'll go as Beauty - i.e., I won't dress up"), I opted for something a little more traditional:

Pretty sure he won't be able to keep his hands off me! Rowr!

Joe Sixpack the Plumber

2008-10-16T12:47:00.000-05:00

I'm wondering if you have to be named 'Joe' if you want the Republicans to use you for absolutely every example they cite regarding the 'common American'? What about 'Juan the carpenter', and 'Suzy the hair dresser' and 'Miss Minneapolis the awesome blogger with great hair and an impeccable fashion sense who sometimes spends a little too much money on things she doesn't need, but still deserves a break, yo'?

That last one really rolls off the tongue...

Otis Meets a Goat!

2008-10-14T07:17:00.000-05:00

Remember when I "adopted" a goat at Farm Sanctuary? This little guy? Well, while I am super duper happy to have done that, it had an unintended consequence: quite often, I get emails from friends and readers with links to goat stories and a nice little message that says something like "this made me think of you". Goats now make people think of me. Kind of weird, right? I mean, I guess it's an improvement over when people used to email me saying they saw some dog poop on the street and thought of me, but still...

Anyway, I have often wondered (because I obviously have a very busy and fulfilling life) what Otis would do if he ever met a goat or some other farm animal. I surmised that he would probably LOVE them because - and I kid you not - anytime he sees a horse on Animal Planet, he is mesmerized, and just stares at the TV. Horses and dogs - he just loves seeing them on TV.

Well, after last weekend, I no longer have to wonder! Paco and I went to an apple farm nearby, where they also happened to have some goats and ponies and one donkey. As I said, I often wondered how Otis would react to big farm animals, but I had never thought about what big farm animals would think of Otis, and it turns out that was the more interesting part of the equation.

As expected, Otis was very interested in the goats specifically, but also the ponies. He pulled us over to the pens several times and would stick his head as far as he could up to the fence to get a sniff. Here he is getting a gander at the donkey, who took positively no interest in my little guy:

Then there was a baby goat, and she was terrified of Otis. Otis would come up to the fence and she'd run away like he was gonna eat her. In all fairness, he would probably try to hump her, despite the fact that we've had several conversations about how we don't hump puppies and you'd think he could extend that lesson to other baby animals, you know?

But THEN we met this little dude, who I have named Mean Black Goat with Horns:

Right after this picture was taken, Otis got a teeny bit closer, and this little guy head butted the fence! He was totally trying to stab my dog with those horns, and Otis is just dumb enough to let himself get stabbed. I hate to say it, but I might have a goat prejudice if one of them killed my dog. I know it ain't right, but I think I'd totally be mad at goats for a while. Maybe not Goodwin, but, you know, all the other goats with horns.

Then again, how can you be mad at someone who's this resourceful?

Not to mention hilarious.

Anyhoo, Paco and Otis and I had a great time, and now I know that even if Otis loves all other animals, all other animals won't necessarily like him. It's a sad fact, but what can ya do?

Oh, and PS: if you look to the right hand side, I've posted a link to my flickr site, where you can view more pictures of Otis & a bunch of other animals. I know there are at least three of you who will go check that out (hi my sisters!). Enjoy!

Happy Columbus Day!

2008-10-13T13:32:00.000-05:00

Who loves Christopher Columbus? I do!

Why, you might be wondering? Because good ol' Chris is responsible for me having the day off today. Thank you, Glorious Christopher!

So what am I doing on my day off? Well, for right now I'm sitting on my couch, Otis snuggled up against my thigh, catching up on my TiVo. It's a difficult life I have, I know.

This coming weekend I'll be attending my 10 year high school reunion. I think our class will have an 80% attendance rate, which means 8 of us will be there. I'm not kidding. Why do we need a reunion, you might be wondering? Because the law says so, that's why. It's going to be a hoot. The only downside is that I've been unsuccessful in persuading Paco to come. Weird, right? I mean, this is going to be the reunion of all reunions - there will be so many things to do! For example: eat food, drink beer, and explain that no, I am not married and have no kids, but I swear I have a boyfriend even though he's not here and may or may not be real. Doesn't that sound fun? He will be missing out BIG TIME.

Otis will be there, though, and with any luck he won't knock down more than 1 or 2 toddlers. Fingers crossed!

Hope you suckers at work are having fun!

Seriously.

2008-10-02T11:06:00.000-05:00

I am glad so many of you took my last post so seriously, because I was indeed dead serious.

Along those same lines, today I'd like to talk about how every woman should be a size 2 and by god if you need to starve yourself to get there, then that's what you have to do. Why? Because you simply can't be beautiful unless you are super thin. And tall. Consider surgery if you're short, because no one will ever love you if you're short. After that, I'd like to cover how you will probably die alone if you're not married by the age of 25.

Where to start, where to start....

Wait, maybe I'll just stick to putting up cute pictures of my dog. He seems to be completely uncontroversial. In this picture he's trying to squeeze himself into my cat's bed.

It's not really working because he's too big. Maybe I should put the fatty on a diet? And actually, I wonder if they make cosmetics for dogs? He really isn't cute enough, is he? A little lipstick would do wonders for him!

Burning Question: Wear Makeup or Be Ugly?

2008-09-30T13:05:00.000-05:00

A lot of men tell me that they prefer when a woman doesn't wear makeup to when she does wear makeup. This confuses me - probably because I am terribly shallow and think that maybe even some of you men should buy a tube of cover-up now and again (think about it). I mean, I have heard of women who grew up with hippy mothers who never wore makeup and taught their daughters that they were beautiful inside and out and didn't need things like blush and mascara and actual beauty on the outside....but the concept overall is foreign to me.

You see, my mother loves makeup. She really does. And my father loves when my mother wears makeup. When I would get ready for the prom in high school (I went to 5 - don't ask), my mother would tell me things like "you need more blush, it's going to be dark in that gym!" and "put on darker lipstick" and so on and so forth. And so I did, until I looked like a 16 year old girl with a meticulously applied clown face.

Now, I'm not saying my parents made me wear makeup or anything. They never said that I was hideously unattractive without it. I mean, that would just be mean. But let's just say that I grew up in an environment where a desire to acquire thousands of dollars worth of cosmetics wasn't hindered in any way, shape or form. Over the years, I've developed something of a complex about makeup though. I feel....weird....without it. Like I'm nekkid or something! Paco has requested that I go out on the town some time sans makeup and I do believe I laughed in his face because, people, that is preposterous!

Let's take a look at some women with and without makeup and you tell me which one looks better:

Okay, that is a bad example. No one thinks Angelina Jolie is ever ugly looking. Forget her.

How about these "models"?

Yeah, they were actually categorized as models on the internet. Seriously. #2 and #4 look like they fell out of an ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, got hit by the ugly truck, and were dragged to Uglyville - at least without makeup on. When they have makeup on they look like maybe they only fell out of that ugly tree and got hit by the ugly truck, you know? That's my 2 cents anyway. But what about that first woman? I mean, she's pretty, right? But prettier WITH makeup - yes? I agree.

Now let's check out another celebrity that all men seem to drool over - Eva Longwhoria:

Sweet baby Jesus, she is some kind of a monster without makeup. I mean, how can this even be the same person?! Maybe she's actually terribly ill in the left photo? Monkey pox? Seriously.

So, what's the consensus - makeup or no makeup?
_______________
Disclaimer: I have several friends (and 2 sisters, actually) who either don't wear makeup at all or wear it very infrequently, and I think they're all beautiful with or without it, honestly. This whole thing actually just speaks more to my neuroses than anything else, I realize, and I'm okay with that. I do, however, think that men sometimes lie when they tell us we look prettier without makeup. Tony Parker is DEFINITELY lying to Eva Longwhoria if he tells her that, for example. Know what I mean?

Rural Minnesota

2008-09-29T16:47:00.000-05:00

Adult Prom

2008-09-26T11:39:00.000-05:00

I keep looking at that title and thinking it looks a lot like "Adult Porn", which is not what I'm going for here.

Anyway, Paco and I went to Adult Prom last night, also known as the Metro 100 Party at the Chamber's Hotel in downtown Minneapolis. It was super fun. It reminded me a lot of prom in high school in that there was free vodka, we had way too much to drink, and ended up at a gay bar at the end of the night. At one point the photographer (or that's who he said he was anyway) got me and some random girls to pose for some moderately provocative pictures too.

So yeah, basically it was just like high school all over again.

Dog Park Adventures

2008-09-22T08:56:00.000-05:00

My sisters and I have been taking our pups to a number of local dog parks quite a bit lately. Ellie, the former puppy mill doggy, used to do this at dog parks:

Which, of course, kind of defeats the purpose of going to a dog park. BUT, after several weeks, now she does this:

When not being chased and/or bitten by Ellie, Otis spends his time doing a lot of this, if you recall:

And sometimes he is on the receiving end:

You'll notice that the dog humping Otis here is also a Boston Terrier. It's like they are programmed to hump or something. Awesome.

The benefit to me of all these trips? One sleepy little monkey:

Last Night Was Weird And Unfortunate

2008-09-17T12:32:00.000-05:00

Last night during my Spin class, 2 weird things happened:

A girl actually answered her cell phone during class. Who does that? I pointed and laughed. I really did.
A woman came in to the class with only 15 minutes left. Five minutes into that 15 minutes she started whining to the instructor about how hard the class was. Um, hello? I've been here for 50 minutes. Also, she was sitting right behind me and breathing loudly. I knocked her off her bike. I really did.*

Last night at the dog park, 2 unfortunate things happened:

Some jackhole woman carrying a gigantic Coach purse (into a dog park, because that's a totally normal place to bring your designer handbag, you crackhead) opened up the gate to the outside before Ellie was secure inside the dog park. Ellie ran out and another dog ran after her. Princess Coach didn't even help us recover the two dogs, she just acted all "la-di-da". I thought about smacking her in the head. Instead I just told everyone at the park to be careful around her because she doesn't know the rules and they should probably just smack her in the head next time she shows up.
A dog attacked my Otis! There were no injuries, but it sounded vicious. I nearly had a heart attack. It's true.

Tonight should be much less weird and unfortunate: Paco is cooking for me. He's never cooked anything vegan before all on his own, so I am very excited. He won't even let me chop vegetables or anything, I just have to sit there and drink wine. I wonder if he's trying to get me tipsy so that even if the food isn't good I won't notice? That is my strategy when I cook for him....perhaps he's learned a thing or two! (Just kidding, shmoopie!)

___________

*No, I didn't. That was a lie. I'm sorry for lying to you.

Dogs in Clothes are Cute, I Don't Care What You Say

2008-09-16T10:16:00.000-05:00

This weekend my sister got her dog, Ellie, a new dress - and it is sooo cute:

I also got Otis a Halloween costume for this year, but you can't see it until it's actually Halloween (I know, I am so mean!). For past years, check out these photos from 2005, 2006, and 2007.

The Mexican Boner

2008-09-12T13:23:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week I got a text message from my brother-in-law "Domingo", who now lives in Florida with my sister, Sarah:

Sarah thinks there is a restaurant in Tampa called the "Mexican Boner". We are going, when are you coming to visit?

Naturally, I wrote to my sister: "Hey tell me about the Mexican Boner."

Well there is a restaurant called El Rincon. I asked Domingo what it meant and I thought he said "The Boner", then he wouldn't tell me what it meant so I had to look it up. It means "The Corner".

You're a genius.

Well do you know what Rincon means off the top of your head??

Yes, obviously it means 'huge erection'. People love going to restaurants named after genitals.

Well maybe not vegans, but regular people do, it's true.

Yes, you love eating boners. Most omnivores do.

Well that is not at all what I said. Why do you twist my words?!

Personally, I can't wait to go to the Mexican Boner!

Weenie

2008-09-09T09:23:00.000-05:00

I don't know how this happened, but somehow Paco has decided that my nickname should be "Weenie". I think it all started because I've been trying out nicknames on him, some of which he is less than thrilled about, such as "chickpea" and "shmoopie" and "princess", to name a few. Chickpea is cute, if you ask me, but it hasn't exactly stuck.

Anyway, I suspect that "Weenie" came about because of the comedic value it offers. He says things like, "I like to play games with my Weenie!" and "I just want to hold my Weenie tight!" and "I could look at my Weenie all day long!" I'd like to take these sentiments as compliments, but somehow they just don't feel very complimentary--weird, right?

What's worse (maybe?) is his threats to say these kinds of things in public: "Where's my WEEEENIE?" and "I want to kiss my Weenie!". I know you're thinking "well that would just make HIM look silly, not you", but trust me when I tell you that he'd figure out a way to make me look like the jackass somehow. The problem now is that because I have voiced my strong preference to not be nicknamed Weenie, I'm pretty sure I'm stuck with it. I can't win, I tell ya.

What's Your Tarot Card?

2008-09-08T08:24:00.000-05:00

You are The Lovers

Motive, power, and action, arising from Inspiration and Impulse.

The Lovers represents intuition and inspiration. Very often a choice needs to be made.

Originally, this card was called just LOVE. And that's actually more apt than "Lovers." Love follows in this sequence of growth and maturity. And, coming after the Emperor, who is about control, it is a radical change in perspective. LOVE is a force that makes you choose and decide for reasons you often can't understand; it makes you surrender control to a higher power. And that is what this card is all about. Finding something or someone who is so much a part of yourself, so perfectly attuned to you and you to them, that you cannot, dare not resist. This card indicates that the you have or will come across a person, career, challenge or thing that you will fall in love with. You will know instinctively that you must have this, even if it means diverging from your chosen path. No matter the difficulties, without it you will never be complete.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

_____________________

Take the quiz and post YOUR results in the comments! (I love crap like this - I don't know why but I just do, so humor me!)

Quote of the Week: Bush on "The Google"

2008-09-03T09:04:00.000-05:00

George W. Bush on 'The Google':

HOST: I’m curious, have you ever googled anybody? Do you use Google?
BUSH: Occasionally. One of the things I’ve used on the Google is to pull up maps. It’s very interesting to see — I’ve forgot the name of the program — but you get the satellite, and you can — like, I kinda like to look at the ranch. It remind me of where I wanna be sometimes.

I know this was from 2006 but for some reason I just heard it today. It is fantastic. And henceforth Google shall be called "The Google". Kind of like "The Pot" and "The Herpes".

Stories From the Vault: Yes, You're Pretty, I Get It

2008-09-02T15:10:00.000-05:00

A long time ago in a far away land (that's funny because it's true), I went out for drinks with an Italian gent. I had met him a few days prior through mutual friends and thought "my, that is a nice looking boy". We chatted a bit at our table and off I went somewhere else. When I met him for drinks I suddenly realized that I had only seen him whilst we were sitting down. Therefore, I failed to notice that he was a towering 5'6" - my height. Flat-footed. Which I never am.

I don't know why, but I have never been able to date shorter guys, and by "shorter" I mean anyone under 5'11" if we're being honest. I know it's not fair, and I know I'm a jerk, but this is my story not yours.

Anyway, I was a little turned off by this height issue, as it were. Still, he was a nice looking guy and I figured "well, I'm already here, let's have a drink!" I am so kind, aren't I? The Italian, however, had some interesting habits. First of all there was the chain smoking. If that isn't hot I don't know what is! But perhaps even worse than that was his obsession with his own appearance. He was mesmerized by his reflection, which he was able to glimpse every now and again in the mirrors around the bar. But you know what, times were tough for me at that point in my life, and "who cares if he loves himself so much he can't bear to be away from his own reflection for a few hours", I thought.

But, we all have our limits, and it turns out mine is this:
If you excuse yourself 43 times in a 3 hour time frame to go use the bathroom, and then return looking as though you clearly have wet down your hair so as to make it look just so, I just cannot handle that. Every time MrPrettyItalianShortMan came back from the bathroom his hair was perfect--not a strand out of line. Oh, and also it was soaking.

Why would you do this? Like, is this normal in Italy? Do Italian girls not notice the difference between wet and dry hair? It was all very confusing for me. Because do you know what? I noticed, and I thought it was absurd. And that, my friends, is why things weren't meant to be for me and the Italian. I prefer to be the pretty and neurotic one in a relationship. (Oh, and the whole "being too short" thing too.)

Kristina Chen is.... Famous?

2008-08-27T11:13:00.000-05:00

Have you all heard of this girl, Kristina Chen? Apparently she is quite the internet sensation, known mostly for her wicked cool dance moves, which she liberally posts on youtube. Check it out:

Amazing, right? Did you watch all the way to the end? You really need to, because she specifically instructs us not to say her videos suck. If we do, we are whores. So I'm definitely not going to say that her videos suck--and not even because I don't want to be called a whore.

Anyway, there really are no words to do Kristina justice, so I'm just going to leave you with that video. If you want more, check out Perez Hilton. He writes about Tina a LOT.

Water Coffin Date!

2008-08-25T13:36:00.000-05:00

Some of you might remember that starting late last year I developed horrible, terrible, excruciatingly painful headaches. I mean, I surely didn't shy away from sharing that with y'all. I bet you are all glad that I'm talking about it again, though, aren't you? You're welcome in advance!

Okay, so this isn't really about headaches, beyond telling you that despite getting bi-weekly massages, having completed 4 weeks of physical therapy, and abandoning my job search to reduce my stress, I still am not headache free. Now that it's been 9 months of this biz-nazz, I am getting a little frustrated about it to be honest. I mean, there has been mild improvement, but overall I still kind of want to stab myself in the leg sometimes (you know, to divert the pain - good idea, right?).

Since poor Paco has to converse with me on an almost daily basis, he basically gets to hear me whine all. the. time. If he gets irritated with it, he's been nice enough not to smack me and tell me to shut it. Okay, he's been nicer than that - yesterday he made us appointments to be encased in a coffin filled with salt water in an attempt to alleviate my pain. Yes, we had Water Coffin Date!

I bet you are thinking that sounds a little weird. Well, you need to get out more.

Or maybe I should explain further. There is this new place open in the cities called The Rejoove Me Relaxation Center, where you can do this thing called Floating. What is floating, you might be wondering (as was I when he told me we were going floating):

Floating employs a sensory-deprived environment and a bed filled with soothing, warm water and 600 pounds of Epsom salt, which allows you to float and forget the worries of the day. Just one hour of floating is equivalent to four hours of deep sleep.

Basically, they have these pods that are reminiscent of coffins for obese people, right? Well, you get into this coffin thingy and it has about 10 inches of super salty water in it. It's impossible to flip over or drown yourself, which is good for me since I am sort of convinced I'll drown someday. Anyway, the pod closes and the lights go off and you're floating there in this tomb for like an hour. It's like there's no gravity, hence no pressure on any of your joints or muscles. After getting over the fact that I was in a dark pod filled with water, I have to say I enjoyed it a lot. Paco enjoyed it too, but in a different way. He spent the first half hour in there playing - pretending he was an astronaut, swooshing the water around, and squirting himself with the bottle of plain water they have in there in case you get salt water in your eyes. Oh, and accidentally hitting the alarm button that summoned the "Floatition" (no, really).

As he described his time in the water coffin, I couldn't help but think, "I am dating a child." Then again, I think he found me to be extremely weird (lame?) for just lying still and relaxing when I could have been playing astronaut. Boys.

So, bottom line is that I would recommend this for anyone who has joint or muscle issues. I felt pretty awesome afterwards and feel somewhat better today. I will probably go back because I am crazy like that--and desperate to feel like I'm 28 again instead of 82. I know: I am really high maintenance like that.

I am Not a Fan of Making Pie Crust

2008-08-20T12:08:00.000-05:00

Hi.

I made a strawberry-rhubarb pie last night. It is the first pie I've ever made, and I decided to do it all myself - including making the pie crust from scratch. It is the ugliest pie in the history of world pies. Yes, world pies. See?

Do you know how effing hard it is to roll out pie crust? Well nobody told me, but it is near impossible. I mean, that crust didn't want to do a damn thing for me. I got SO angry. I mean, that was the angriest I've ever been at a pastry, and that is saying something, because over the years I've gotten rather angry at how pastries just seem to jump in my mouth in an effort to make me weigh 400 lbs.

I was in my kitchen fuming about this pie crust as my two little sisters sat in my living room. Eventually I decided I had to choose between beating one of them to death with the rolling pin or giving up on having a pretty pie. Because I am a semi-nice person and have heard bad things about prison, I chose the latter. So then I just took a bunch of pieces of pie crust and dropped them on top, and the result is what you see in that picture.

I sent Paco this picture and said "I've never been more angry with a pastry in my life", to which he replied, "I am glad you didn't say you hate the pie. We are making progress, Minnow." Apparently I proclaim hatred for too many things - he says it's excessive. I've had to be on my best behavior and say things like "I strongly dislike this" and "I am not a fan of that". It's not easy, let me tell you, but we are indeed making progress. My heart is less full of hate almost every day. Almost.

Anyway, hideous looking pie? Oh yes. But boy oh boy does it taste good. My reputation as an expert baker is still in tact. Phew.

Nastia's Gonna Cut Someone

2008-08-19T08:05:00.000-05:00

So, anyone been watching the Olympics? I mean, what else is there to do anyway, right? And don't say something ridiculous like "enjoy the last few days of summer" or "have a life" because that is just plain nonsense.

Anyway, I suppose you caught the women's gymnastics last night then? And you saw how Nastia Liukin lost the gold medal in the uneven bars competition (her specialty) by about 0.0001 points? Yeah, that kind of sucks. At any rate, I was sitting there last night watching and couldn't help but think that Nastia might someday kill that cute little Chinese girl you see ahead of her here:

I mean, she was PISSED. I don't think I've ever seen a 16 year old with such an effective death glare - including myself, and let me tell you that I have got that shit DOWN. Or at least I did in high school when I cared about things like "athletics" and "being successful".

I used to be a "Tumbler" in grade school. Did your school have that? It was like Gymnastics for Kids Who Can't Do Gymnastics But Want to Pretend They Can. It looked sort of like this:

Only imagine that kid is more like 10 years old instead of 2 and a half. Yeah, I was that good.

Anyway, my stellar gymnastic abilities are not the purpose for this post. Let's get back to Nastia. (Sidebar: Do you think boys teased her about her name? Oh yeah, she probably didn't get to meet any boys since she spent her entire adolescence in the gym.) She was not happy with being the second best gymnast in the world by 1/1000th of a point.

I guess I can't blame her. Winning a silver medal at the Olympics at the ripe old age of 16 is kind of on par with being 28 and having your greatest accomplishment consist of writing a blog about how a 16 year old Olympian is a total failure. In other words: awesome.

I Wouldn't Mess With Her

2008-08-14T10:43:00.000-05:00

My sister Miranda almost lost her mind yesterday dealing with the company that sold her company a printer. This is the email we got from her yesterday afternoon:

I HATE [Printer Company]. Below is the email I sent to them because I've been on hold all afternoon. WELL NO WORRIES. THEY don't ACCEPT emails anyway, so no one read it. I finally talked to someone, but he is an idiot. And says that I can't place the order I need, that someone comes out here and does it for me. I hate people.

Good afternoon. Our company recently bought a printer from [Printer Company]. While we thoroughly enjoy this printer, I have been more than displeased at the customer service we have received from [Printer Company]. I have called twice today to get printer cartridges refilled. After being on hold for 20 minutes (the estimated wait time was 2 minutes), I was disconnected on your end. I then called back. I was told I had a wait time for 14 minutes. I am still on hold now, after 35 minutes.

While we enjoy your printers, I do not enjoy being put on hold for an eternity to reorder supplies to keep our business going. Is there any way to fix this situation?

Thank you.

That last little paragraph almost made me spit water all over: "I do not enjoy being put on hold for an eternity to reorder supplies to keep our business going."

HAHAHAHA. What I wouldn't give to see the reaction this email got on the receiving end - you know, if the company actually accepted emails. If I were them, I'd put it on the bulletin board at work and laugh every time I read it, because I'm mature like that.

Fantastic.

Quick Story / I'm Dumb

2008-08-12T12:53:00.000-05:00

Yesterday my friend Becky and I loaded up our dogs in the car and took them to the lake for a long walk. After the walk, we decided to pick up some Chinese take-out and a bottle of wine (Becky and I did, that is - the dogs didn't say much). As I come to a stop light I look over at the next car and this very sweet looking blond woman gives me a big smile.

"Wow, that blond girl just smiled at me. That was SO nice. No one ever smiles at me like that for no reason. What a nice girl!" I exclaimed.

"Um, hate to burst your bubble, but it might be because of the cute dog looking out the window from the back seat."

Oh.

I guess, maybe.

John Edwards is a Real Gentleman

2008-08-11T10:56:00.000-05:00

Gosh, what a great head of hair that John Edwards has. It's too bad he and that hair (almost like its own entity, really) won't be able to travel the world representing America for us as our president come next year. I mean, he and his hair would be such a wonderful representative of the bounty and success of Americans everywhere--it's so lush!

You know what else I love about John Edwards? He is a total gentleman. I mean, he's the type of guy who would definitely say "I'm sorry" if he gave you a raging case of herpes or ran over your beloved family pet. I bet he's the type of guy who wouldn't even kick your children in the face if presented with the opportunity. Also, it seems highly unlikely that he's murdered anyone, you know? Basically, he is my kind of man.

I mean, sure, he cheated on his wife, but WHO DOESN'T these days? And look at that hair! It was practically his civic duty to let other women have a chance at running their fingers through that hair. And, because he is such a gentleman, John Edwards cheated on his wife when her cancer was in remission. That makes it almost like it doesn't even count at all. True story, it's in the manual somewhere.

Finding My True Calling: Benevolent Dictator

2008-08-08T09:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I was feeling kind of down in the dumps. I know - ME? Down in the dumps? It's true. I didn't like it. Not at all.

You see, the thing is, despite the fact that most of humanity probably thinks I'm a shallow little trollop, the ills of the world really do get to me a lot of the time. Sometimes when I hear about crazy people who decapitate and cannibalize bus passengers, for example, I think perhaps the world is beyond hope.

Yesterday what got me down was reading a story about a meatpacking plant in Iowa that had been employing illegal immigrants. Who also happened to be children. And when I say "employing" I basically mean "exploiting". And do you know what? It made me sad. Because not only were they exploiting these people, but they were also kicking them. At work.

I have never been kicked at work. Okay, I take that back - back in the days when I worked at a nursing home some of the residents got a little kicky at bath time. But I've never been kicked by my boss. It's something I take for granted, I guess you could say. I mean, I never get to work and say to myself "hm, I wonder if I will get kicked today". It's just not something that crosses my mind. My biggest challenge with my work environment is the amped up air conditioning (how I suffer!).

Anyway, where am I going with this? Well, I think this Debbie Downer incident has allowed me to find my true calling. I've decided I'm going to become a benevolent dictator.

Miss Minneapolis, Benevolent Dictator!

That's what my business cards will say. With the exclamation point and everything (it adds a little something, no?).

I'd like to be able to just run for president or something and hope that people would stop being assholes to each other under my leadership, but it doesn't seem like that's going to be effective quickly enough for my liking, so I'll have to enforce it as a dictator. I figure forcing people to be nice to each other kind of negates the whole "dictatorship" thing. I mean, what if instead of killing a bunch of innocent people, Hitler just threw awesome parties all the time and made people treat each other with a little respect?

Wait, I don't really want to associate myself with Hitler. Let's try another angle--

Basically, I just want people to be decent. Is that so effing much to ask? Really? I mean, can't we all just refrain from kicking children at our workplaces? And can't we all agree that decapitating someone on a bus and eating him is not nice? I don't feel like I'm asking too much. Think about it, world. You have 24 hours to make your decision. Otherwise, I am totally taking control of this damn place and then you'll HAVE TO be nice. (Or at least not decapitate each other.)

I think this plan is totally going to work.

Does it matter how quickly 2 people sleep together (in terms of whether or not it'll result in a long term relationship)?
	Yes, women should hold out to "test" men
	Yes, because men won't date someone who has sex with them early on
	No, as long as it's not on the FIRST date
	No, if they are compatible anyway, it won't matter

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