Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Fun with household appliances.

So, the other day, when I was all, "reading trashy books is so much more virtuous than watching trashy teevee?"

Yeah. Umm ... I've been watching a lot of trashy teevee.

My Guy and I lived without TV for 6 months. It was a time of self discovery. It also coincided with the 6 months we lived without a dishwasher. Needless to say ... the beginning of our marriage was rough. Really rough.

But we bought a dishwasher. And the day it was installed, My Guy texted me a photo of the shiny new appliance with the caption, "Marriage saved!"

And it was so.

And since we agreed we couldn't possibly live without cable during football season, we got cable. So much has changed in the 6 months we didn't have cable - I feel so behind the times! Did you know there's an entire show about people who get, like, $500 worth of groceries for $5 because they spend 40 hours a week clipping coupons?

Not to be all mean about it, but ... considering that those groceries include 89 bags of croutons, and it works out to "earning" $12.50 per hour of coupon clipping? I'm not so sure the extreme couponing is worth it.

I've also discovered That Metal Show. It's 3 music geeks arguing over the merits of various heavy metal albums and interviewing hard rock musicians. The stories are great, and I can relate to wanting a forum to talk about random music trivia.

Side note: Did you know Toni Tennille from The Captain & Tennille performed on Pink Floyd's The Wall?


I'm taking requests - what other shows should we add to our DVR? The trashier, the better. Obviously.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

All the news that's fit to print.

I should have something witty to talk about.

I could write about hosting Poochie's university railroading club at our house last weekend, and how My Guy confided that he had no idea how to properly host and relate to a bunch of train enthusiasts. "You're a computer programmer," I said. "Are you telling me you don't speak Nerd?"

"I do!" he clarified. "But theirs is a different dialect!"

So, I could write about that. Or I could bitch and mooooaaaaan about the fact that Miss Universe spent a whole 60 seconds displaying not all the national heritage costumes, but only the top 10. Like there's any other reason to watch the pageant. Shame, SHAME on you, Miss Universe!

Side note: you can see fantastic national heritage costume recaps at Tom and Lorenzo. They're fabulous and opinionated.

Or I could write about my mighty triumph at Corporate Behemoth, wherein I convinced a senior VP that no, we don't need more videos (thereby creating a shit-ton of work for yours truly), but rather, we need to leverage the other content we already have.

You can call me a savvy content strategist if you like.


I don't feel savvy. I don't feel like strategizing anything. I don't feel entertaining or even remotely interesting. I feel ... depleted.

I guess unbalance in your day-to-day life doesn't go away just because you go on vacation and come up with a long-term plan. You still need those little baby steps to improve your quality of life along the way.

Also? I think we can all agree that vacationing with your in laws is not a vacation at all. It is a tour of duty.

Now, I'm going to retire to bed with my Grover Cleveland biography. And before you're all, "Pshaw ... Grover Cleveland - whatevs," let me just tell you this: Ol' Grover (known as Big Steve to his friends) looked after his BFF's widow and daughter, treating the daughter almost as his own child. Until ... her married her. The daughter. Not the widow. He married his BFF's kid.

Reading trashy things about dead people: It feels more virtuous than watching trash teevee.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I am an equestrienne.

I just got back from a 5-day Colorado vacation extravaganza with My Guy's family. As you might expect, my brain is swimming.

Let's just put it this way - I have a new life motto: You can't change people. But you can write about them.

But I need to ease into that, lest my brain explode, ka-pow style. So, let's start with the basics: I rode a horse. For the very first time ever.

Now, my grandparents were the sort that clambered upon 1 horse with 7 siblings to head to school, sans adult supervision, starting at the age of 5. Somehow, the fact that I made it to the age of 36 without ever riding a horse feels like I have failed my ancestors.

But I tried to make up for it. A group of us family vacationing fools went for a trail ride in Rocky Mountain National Park. The ride was 2 hours and involved tourism horses. You know, the horses that have been doing this same damned trail all summer and are just over it? You know, those rides that require absolutely no skill on the part of the human passenger?


My horse's name was Bravo. He was not pleased being the second horse. He wanted to be the first horse and so spent 2 whole hours attempting to pass the horse in front of him. Each time I corrected him with my meager horsewoman skills, he "accidentally" brushed me up against something. Like a boulder.

My common refrain during the ride: "Dude. Give me a break."

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

My Guy and I compared notes and had many similar experiences during our first riding experiences. I was not alone. In fact, maybe my experience was even ... universal!

And so, I determined The 8 Stages of New Equestrianism:

1. Apprehension.
OK, I've never been on a horse. I was never one of those little girls who fantasize about ponies. I never even had a My Little Pony. But this will be a great life experience! And this horse is really pretty.

2. Terror.
This horse is pretty, but it didn't seem pleased when I stroked his nose. And he's really, really tall and the guide had to hoist my ass up to get me on the horse and now I'm sitting here and the horse is supposed to be standing still but he's moving. He's moving under my crotchal region and ohmigod I don't think I remember what I'm supposed to do with the reigns and WEAREALLGOINGTODIE!

3. Resignation.
Oh. The horse knows what to do. I just have to sit here and make peace with the fact that there's a moving animal under my crotchal region. Look how cute the guide girl is in front of us. She is so darling. Maybe I could be an outdoorsy girl.

4. Hallucination.
I'm on a horse! Outside! On a trail! In nature! Maybe I have missed my calling. Maybe I'm meant to be an outdoorsy girl, an outdoorsy girl on a horse. Maybe I'll start taking riding lessons. Maybe we'll start taking vacations where we ride horses.

5. Realization.
Fuck that shit. My knees hurt.

6. Impatience.
This is the longest 2 hours of my life. I'm covered in dust and have no feeling below my waist. The trail has a crappy view and my horse is flatulent and keeps trying to cut in line. The guide actually fwapped him in the head because he kept trying to pass her. I guess he's bored, too. I'm pretty sick of looking at the guide's back. At least she isn't farting as much as my horse.

7. Relief.
I see the barn. The end is in sight! And I almost don't even care that it takes me 3 minutes to dismount Bravo the Asshole Flatulent Horse because I'm numb and my knee is totally torqued and I can barely stand on my own. I will gladly take my place along the fence with my other wounded compatriots.

8. Sanity.
That was an interesting life experience. Let us never speak of it again.