eighties music and a pending lawsuit. just your typical thursday

You know what you should never, ever do?  Put a banana in your purse on Wednesday morning with the intention of eating it for a mid-morning snack, and then forget completely about it, only to discover it open and smushed in the bottom of your purse on Thursday night.

I learned the hard way that it's not easy to get a sticky mixture of banana and Dawn dish soap out of the fabric in the bottom of your cute teal purse.

You can't buy that kind of advice.

Other than that mishap things have been pretty status quo around here.  Yesterday I spent five hours in the car.  Do you know what five hours in the car is?  It's about four hours too long.  

I drove two hours to a meeting that featured several mini-workshops on all sorts of topics, one of which was travel and hotel safety. I've never really been nervous staying in hotels by myself.  However, let me just state for the record that is no longer the case.  Because yesterday I learned that I should never use my first name on a reservation, and always to check in as a "Mr. and Mrs." in an effort to deter would-be criminals.  I also learned that fires in hotels are quite dangerous because most hotel windows don't open, and that I should bring a mini-safe with my and chain my valuables to the pipe underneath the bathroom sink when I leave the room.

I would like to never travel again, thank you.

 

After that frightening lesson I drove two hours back home and then picked Matt up at the train station and drove to his dad's for dinner.  His dad's house is three minutes from the train station, but in those three minutes Matt read a few chapters in my car's owner's manual and then performed a four point inspection on my tires once we reached our destination.  Everything checked out perfectly, but I think I sensed a bit of disappointment from Matt because nothing makes him happier than a potential automotive project.

When we left his dad's I turned the radio on, and LO AND BEHOLD, one of my favorite songs was playing.  That song was Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon.  

I know.  My taste in music is exquisite.  

Of course I started singing along and during a musical interlude I turned to Matt and said, "Do you know who sings this?"  He looked at me like that was the craziest question I could have asked him and said, with great confidence, "Of course I know who sings this.  Billy Joel."

Color me confused.

It turns out that he momentarily confused Billy Joel with Elton John.  And the line "You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark, winter's night" made him think of the song, "Candle In the Wind."

Don't worry.  I cleared everything up for him.

We can't all be eighties power ballad connoisseurs. 

A minute later we stopped at a red light next to a Pontiac G6, and Matt started talking about how he really likes the G6, and how there is an even sportier version than the one we were next to that he likes even more.  And then he mentioned how sad he is that they aren't made anymore. 

At which point I asked  "Well, why did they stop making them?"

Evidently Pontiac is out of business. Has been for quite some time now.

We can't all be car manufacturer connoisseurs.

Since there are no photos in this post I've taken the liberty of adding this one.  It's a bottle of iced tea that I bought today, yet the expiration date on the bottle has come and gone.  So now I'm just deciding whether or not I should sue.  

If I did, I could probably buy a new, banana-free purse with my winnings.

I'll keep you posted.

is it really only tuesday?

This weekend was a good one.  It was the kind of weekend that makes you think "OKAY I'D LIKE TO REWIND FORTY EIGHT HOURS AND DO THAT ALL AGAIN PLEASE" when Sunday night rolls around.

But since that's impossible you suck it up and hit the snooze button one or eight times on Monday morning and then when you're brushing your teeth it occurs to you that you don't have any pants ironed for work, so you have to rush and iron and dry your hair in just six minutes and your breakfast ends up being a lukewarm cup of coffee and two kit kats.

Or maybe that's just how my Monday mornings go.

On Friday night Matt and I went out to dinner.  We went to Carraba's, which is a step up from the typical Applebee's, and so in keeping with the fanciness I said 'twas instead of "it was" every time the opportunity presented itself.

Which was a lot.

Sometimes I think Matt can't believe his good fortune that I am the girl he gets to dine with.

On Saturday I rose at the crack of ten thirty, and Michelle and I spent the next couple of hours laying on the couch watching Say Yes to the Dress.  At about 1:00 I stretched and yawned and made a big production of saying, "Alllllrightttttt.  I guess it's time for me to get moving."

Naturally, Michelle asked, "Where are you going?"

I'll admit it was a little anti-climactic when my answer was, "Just to the kitchen."

I did get moving after my lunch though.  I went to the bank and the gas station and the car wash and Target, because I am powerless to resist the call of the Dollar Spot.  

Matt had asked me earlier in the week if I would be interested in going shopping at the outlets with him when he was finished work on Saturday afternoon.  I have known Matt for a long time and never once has he suggested a shopping trip.  Initially I was concerned that he might be suffering from a fever or personality mix-up at the time of the question but I did what any girl would do and STRUCK WHILE THE IRON WAS HOT and told him I would LOVE to go to the outlets because I've never met a sale I didn't like.

It turned out that the impetus for the trip was the fact that men's dress shoes were on MAJOR SALE and Matt was apparently in the market for some new kicks.  He got his shoes and I got some long sleeve shirts that were just four dollars each.

I wore one of the shirts on Sunday and Michelle mentioned that she liked it.  I told her what a good deal it was, but also warned her that she will probably be hearing about it again in a few days when I wash it and the material gets all twisted and dries funny and I'll be saying "I can't believe this shirt didn't hold up! I PAID FOUR WHOLE DOLLARS FOR IT AFTER ALL."

On Sunday afternoon I took this walk with Emily.  My mom is a teacher, and before we left she asked us to keep an eye out for an interesting plants we saw because she was going to be teaching a science lesson on plant life.  Em and I examined all kinds of plants during our walk but didn't really see much that was worth taking home for my mom.

As we were leaving the park I handed Emily my camera and said, "Hey! Take a picture of me in front of all this corn!"

She sighed LOUDLY and rolled her eyes and said, "Laura. That's not corn.  It's wheat."

So maybe I wasn't the best person to be searching for unique plants.

Nevertheless, 'twas a fun weekend. 

hey fall

 

 

 

yee-haw

 Well, you will never guess where I went on Friday night.

I'll give you a hint.

It rhymes with "modeo."

That's right.  I went to the rodeo.  I'd never been to one before - they're not exactly everyday occurrences here in the Philadelphia area, believe it or not.  But for the past couple of months I've been seeing signs for one, so a few weeks ago I sent my sister a text that said, "I am totally serious - would you want to go to a rodeo with me?"  

OF COURSE she was all in, and so were my parents, and that is how we all ended up at the rodeo on Friday night like a bunch of regular old country people.

The rodeo didn't start until 7:30, but we got there early in order to get good seats and eat corn dogs and funnel cake.  Finally at about 7:00 my mom said, "Okay.  It's time to get this show on the rodeo."

She is hilarious.

 As a rodeo rookie, I was unaware that there would be so much fanfare in the beginning.  In just the first twenty minutes we recognized military veterans, said some prayers, learned some rodeo lingo, watched a few skits, and honored the US of A.  

Right before the rodeo started, out came Old Glory.  The announcer told us she is 234 years old.  

That's one old horse.

 We spent the next few hours watching barrel racing and bull riding and I had the best time.  

Saturday was not nearly as exciting as Friday, but let's he honest, it's tough to beat a rodeo.  I met my mom and Emily at the mall after lunch and bought some new fall clothes.  Apparently I have decided to embrace the blazer trend. We shall see how that pans out.

Emily had to work at 4:00, so I drove her home and my mom shopped for a while longer.  Emily has her driver's permit so I offered to let her pilot my wheels home, but she turned down the offer.

That was her mistake, really, because whenever we were at a red light and I was playing the steering wheel drums, I used her knee as a cymbal. 

And there were a LOT of cymbal crashes on Saturday. At one point I thought she was going to crawl into the back seat.  

Or out of the car completely.

The weekend ended on a fantastic note, and by that I mean that finally, after nine months of living in this apartment, I hung curtains in the living room.

 Shout out to Matt for coming over to hang the curtain  rod and getting hit in the head by the ceiling fan in the process. 

Looking back I guess I shouldn't have turned that on while he was standing on a chair in the vicinity.

He still bought me an ice cream sundae after the little fan/head incident, because he is a keeper.

And now it's back to the weekday grind.  

Unless I decide to quit my job tomorrow and become a rodeo cowgirl.  

It's not out of the question.

being 24 is as glamorous as i dreamed it would be

You'll never guess what I bought after work yesterday.

A new bathrobe.

That's right.  I'm a girl who loves a good bathrobe, and I've had the same one for quite a while now.  It's warm and cozy, but not too heavy that it makes me hot.  It's soft but not fleecey, and it has two big pockets.

It's everything I could ever want in a bathrobe. 

And then this past Sunday I went into some sort of unexplained organizational frenzy, and threw away and donated a whole bunch of stuff.  Including my bathrobe.  Which was fine until I woke up on Monday morning and walked straight to my closet to get it, and it was gone.

I spent the better part of the day experiencing the opposite of buyer's remorse.

I knew I needed to get myself to the store TOOT SUITE to try to find a replacement, and finally went last night.  Sears didn't disappoint and I managed to find a new robe.  I think we will be very happy together.  You better believe that I came straight home and changed into my pj's and bathrobe right away.

Then I walked into the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and yelled to Michelle, "Hey, do you know how many ounces are in a shot glass?"

There's nothing like having a shot of vodka after you buy a new bathrobe, that's what I always say.

Actually I wasn't having a celebratory beverage at all, it was simply time for my nightly dosage of cold medicine and I inadvertently threw away the handy little cup that comes on top the night before. 

Clearly I need to be more careful before I toss things in the trash.

I'm happy to report that the shots of cold medicine I've been taking are doing their job, and after a few days of feeling VERY SUB PAR, I am now almost back to normal.  I even cooked myself dinner tonight and was cleaning up when Michelle walked in from work and announced that she was experiencing the worst headache of her entire life.  I was planning to go to the food store tonight anyway to get the essentials, AKA Triscuits and coffee creamer, and offered to pick up some Excedrin for her while I was there.

I went to the pain relief aisle first thing so I wouldn't forget because HORRIBLE ROOMMATE ALERT.  I stood there for ten minutes and didn't see any Excedrin.  I thought about going to ask the pharmacist but I knew it would be one of those situations where they would come out to show me where it was and I would feel like an idiot because OH, IT'S BEEN RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE THIS ENTIRE TIME AND FOR SOME REASON I DIDN'T SEE IT. 

But I finally caved and went to the counter.  When it was my turn I stepped up and said, "Hello, could you please tell me where the Excedrin is?"  

And then the pharmacist looked at me with a sympathetic expression and said, "Oh honey. Excedrin was recalled six months ago."

Which explains why I couldn't find it on the shelf.

 I settled for a generic bottle and came home and delivered it to Michelle.  And then I put on my bathrobe and took a shot of cold medicine.

And we watched House Hunters.

Just livin' the dream.

i'm going to stick to nail polish and lip gloss

I don't know much about the mechanical workings of my car, but one thing I do know is that I am supposed to get the oil changed every 3000 miles.  And that is something that I am religious about.

Last week I was getting close to that 3000 mile mark, so I stopped at the mechanic on my way home from work.  I checked in, placed my order, and settled down in the waiting room to take advantage of the tabloids there and get caught up on the hardest hitting of news, aka what Mr. Tom Cruise has been up to lately and the surprise wedding of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds.  

I was two pages into Stars! They're Just Like Us! when I overheard a conversation taking place at the counter.  A customer was joking with one of the mechanics about his truck, and at one point he laughed and said, "What next?  Am I going to need a new flux capacitor?!"

And OH, that brought back a memory.

Last year my friend Stacy got a new car, and so we planned a night out to Applebee's and Burlington Coat Factory so we could eat and shop and I could see her new whip.  I told Matt that I was going to hang out with Stacy and meet her new car, and he said "Have fun.  And tell Stacy she should really get a flux capacitor for her car."

So we pulled into the Applebee's parking lot and Stacy showed me all the car's fancy features and I said, "I almost forgot -- Matt said it would be a good idea to get a flux capacitor.  I don't know what it is but it must be a good thing to have in your car."

And that was that.  

Until a few weeks later when Stacy called and asked me what that thing was Matt suggested that she get for her car so she could talk to her dad about it.  

I couldn't remember the name so I called Matt to ask.

"YOU ACTUALLY TOLD HER THAT?" he said.

Of course I told her that.  Me questioning Matt's knowledge of all things automobile related would be like him questioning my knowledge of nail polish or lip gloss. 

Well, it turns out that a flux capacitor is the tool that made time travel possible in the car in Back to the Future.  

It's not actually something that people driving non time traveling cars in 2012 actually need.

I wonder if the man at the mechanic knew that.

you're only as old as the court reporter thinks you look

Intern. 

Again.

i love having mondays off

When I was in elementary school, I loved to go to school on rainy days.  A rainy day meant I would carry my umbrella (pink, with pictures of tiny umbrellas ON IT, HOW CLEVER) to school and wear my navy blue uniform cardigan with my plaid jumper.  It meant the classroom was a little darker and a little cozier, and we would stay inside at recess time and color or do puzzles or play Heads Up, Seven Up.  It meant we would run from the school bus to the front door after school and when we got inside, we would skip after school outfits and change right from our uniforms to our pajamas. 

When I woke up this morning and saw that it was dark and pouring rain outside, I smiled.  I love warm, sunny days, but sometimes you just need a good rainy day.

: : : : : : : : : : : :

It wasn't raining on Thursday which worked out perfectly because I had a dinner date with my brother and sister and the sunny sky meant that we could eat outside.  Emily's favorite appetizer is fried macaroni, and since we were eating at the Cheesecake Factory and they have it on the menu, we encouraged her to order it.  She did, and please take a gander at that plate of deliciousness.  We ate every. morsel.

 When it was time to order dinner, the waitress went around the table and took my order for chicken, Phil's for a burger, and Emily's for the fried macaroni and cheese burger, which is basically a regular burger with one of those fried mac 'n cheese balls on top.  

It's really a shame that Emily is so health conscious.  I wish she'd let loose and eat some junk food once in a while.

After dinner I logged into facebook and look at what greeted me.  Two suggestions for "Pages I May Like" -- Catholic Memes and Wedding Crashers.  Those two things couldn't be more different.  CAN'T PUT ME IN A BOX.

 

 On Friday night Matt and I had plans to go out with some friends in the city, but we ate dinner first.  I was wearing cute white shorts that I had even IRONED.  Well, guess who spilled vodka sauce on her shorts at dinner.

This girl.

And that is how I ended up washing my shorts in the sink and then drying them with my hair dryer at 9:30 on Friday night.

It's all pretty glamorous around here.

After my shorts were dry, we headed into the city.  Matt drove, and since he works downtown we parked in the parking garage of his office building.  It's in the historic section of the city, which meant that we walked right by the Liberty Bell on our way to the bar, which isn't a sentence you hear every day.

We had a fun night even though I made the mistake of wearing sandals and had one foot crushed by a very large man and an unidentified liquid spilled on the other.  Next time I am wearing work boots.  We called it quits around 1:00 and trekked back to the parking garage.  We drove down to the little booth and -- PROBLEM -- the man inside, THE GATEKEEPER, was sound asleep.

We were stuck. 

We just stared in silence for a few seconds and then Matt looked at me and whispered, "What do I do?"

Luckily the man awoke after a minute or two and released us from the garage.

Last night I cooked salmon for dinner.

Let me say that again.  LAST NIGHT I COOKED SALMON FOR DINNER. 

I AM GROWING UP.

After  the delicious dinner Matt and I rented 21 Jump Street.  We have very sophisticated cinematic taste.  Matt is diabetic and halfway through his blood sugar went way low.  He stood up to go into the kitchen in search of some carbs and asked, "Which cabinet is your bread in?"

Funny thing.  I don't buy bread.

I also did not have any sugary juice that would have helped him in his moment of need, so he drove up the street to the food store.  He came home with a loaf of bread and apple juice, and these...

He knows me so well.

Happy Monday!

it's rare that i'm speechless, but...

I really don't know what to say.

a real dream come true

I've been a big fan of Kate Middleton since the day she came on the scene.  In fact, I just searched my blog for her name and the result was eight posts.

Eight. 

I TOOK A VACATION DAY FROM WORK for the royal wedding for goodness sake. And then I got up at 4:00 in the morning to watch it.

And of course I got TWO Kate Middleton rings for my birthday last year. 

If Michelle and I are ever bored, we search the TV Guide channel for shows about Kate.  And if I had a dollar for every time I said, "I WISH I WAS KATE MIDDLETON" well, I would have enough money to rent out a wing of Buckingham Palace.

However, due to recent developments in the form of a mask from Michelle's aunt, I will never have to make that statement again.

Now I'm going to go eat some scones.

Cheers.

i should have gone to sleep an hour ago

Well, I come to you tonight with two pieces of sad, sad news.

The first is that my man was not selected as the newest American Idol judge.  Right now you're probably thinking, "Wow, I can't believe Laura didn't mention that Matt was even in the running for the position," and that would be because he wasn't.  

I'm talking about my other man, Brad Paisley.

It appears that his country counterpart, Mr. Keith Urban, was chosen instead.  Must have been that Australian accent that pushed him over the line.

The second piece of tragic news requires a bit of a back story.  I wrote about it here, but the short version is that when Michelle and I moved into this apartment in December, we were so impressed with ourselves and the fact that we were able to obtain jobs that paid enough to cover rent that we cleverly decided to name our wireless network "Workin Girlz."  

Yes, with a Z.

 Shortly after our move-in, my brother broke the news to us that "working girl" is another name for hooker.  Well, color us naive.  We had no idea.

I mentioned in the last post that our internet was broken, and on Friday a Comcast technician came out to fix it.  The only solution was a new modem and, tragically, a new network name. 

Workin Girlz is no more, and now our internet is an unending string of letters and numbers.  How boring and mature.

Luckily that was the end of the bad news for the weekend.  We had a family wedding on Friday night, where I learned that construction paper glasses, a feather boa, and a chalkboard will make me happy as a lark.

And on Saturday night Matt and I went out with some friends and I didn't get home until TWO THIRTY A.M., which is quite possibly the latest I have been out since college.  I'm more of an in-my-pajamas-by-midnight-at-the-latest kind of girl.  

When I walked in the apartment Michelle was just coming home from a night out herself, so we sat in the living room for twenty minutes and chatted about our evenings and what had happened and OH LOOK AT US BEING ALL WILD AND CRAZY AND STAYING UP SO LATE.

I felt like I was 23 again.

And now I am struggling to come up with a clever conclusion for this post.  I'm fighting the urge to write some sort of joke about how when I wake up tomorrow morning it will be time to be a Workin Girl again because I'm afraid that might be in poor taste.  But that's pretty much all I can come up with.  

Thank you and goodnight. 

i left again sooner than i planned

Well just as I’m ready to start blogging again, our internet dies. 

 It just stopped working on Sunday night.  

And so here I sit in the technological dark ages, typing this post into a Word document.  If you’re reading this, it means that Mr. Comcast finally arrived at our apartment and set the Working Girlz on the straight and narrow once again.

I celebrated my birthday this past weekend.  I turned the big two four on Saturday, and kicked the occasion off with a bang in the form of spending three hours at the DMV to get my new driver’s license.  In Pennsylvania licenses are renewed every six years, so the license I had was from when I was just a babe, aka 18 years old.  It was still a vertical license, which signified that it was issued before my 21^st birthday, but this birthday meant I was finally old enough to get the grown up horizontal license.

 

I got to the DMV, reapplied my lip gloss, and walked in ready for my close up.  There was a sign in the lobby asking patrons to take a number.   

I was #26.

 

They were on #5.  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

When my number was finally, AND I DO MEAN FINALLY, called, I marched proudly up to the desk and handed my credentials to the woman behind the counter.  She shuffled through my paperwork and then looked right at me and said, “Well honey, you don’t look nearly old enough for a big girl license.”

Thank you.  Thank you so much.  That’s not something I hear ALL THE TIME.

Nevertheless, I smiled for the camera and waited for my new license to print, eager to get a look at the photo I would be seeing until 2018.  And here it is.   

And all I have to say is that it’s a darn shame that I couldn’t find any big earrings to wear.

I went to my parents’ for dinner on my birthday.  We had my favorite meal and I opened some presents.  You know you’re not a kid anymore when you get pot holders and spatulas for your birthday.

HOW’S THAT FOR BEING A BIG GIRL, WOMAN AT THE DMV?

On Sunday I went food shopping.  I picked a few recipes for the week and hit the store armed with a list of exactly what I needed to buy, organized by aisle.  I know what you’re thinking.  MY WHAT A 24 YEAR OLD THING TO DO. 

The weekend ended on a high note, and by that I mean Michelle and I devoted several hours to proving/disproving the Birthday Paradox, aka the theory if you get 23 people in one room, at least two people will have the same birthday.  Well, thanks to Wikipedia and an overabundance of free time, we now know that the birthday paradox is accurate about 65% of the time, and that Nascar drivers, Cuba Gooding Junior, and Jennifer Aniston have an awful lot in common.

And then the internet died.

Perhaps it was a sign that we had too much time on our hands and it was time to do something more productive.   

Like use my new cooking tools.   

Or go earring shopping.

i'm back until i leave again, and other very deep thoughts

I got a text from my mom last night informing me that my sister has been anxiously awaiting a new blog post.  And, since I aim to please, here we are.  Shout out to Emily.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 

I have been absent here on the old blog lately, but I do have a good reason.  A reason that begins with a little trip down memory lane.  

Matt's uncle lives in Bermuda, and about five summers ago Matt went to visit him.  We were "just friends" at the time, or, as my parents called it, "non-dating."  Matt was gone for a few weeks and when he returned he brought me back a bottle of pink Bermuda sand.  My brother called it love sand because he is HILARIOUS, but I kept that sand on my dresser and even brought it with me when I went back to college in the fall.

And little did I know when I put that bottle of sand on the shelf in my tiny little college apartment that five years later I'd be lucky enough to go to Bermuda with Matt to see that pink sand for myself.

 

 We got home from Bermuda on Saturday night and on Monday afternoon I was on the road again, this time for work.  The trip required stays in two separate hotels, the first of which was brand spankin' new and had cathedral ceilings and a snazzy navy blue/lime green color scheme that made me want to come home and redecorate my bedroom entirely in navy and lime green.

Do you know what else it had?

The most complicated shower I have ever met.

Have you ever seen a shower with so much equipment?  I am not used to all of those knobs and controls, and my inexperience became very evident by mid-shampoo when I realized that I had neglected to open the drain and was standing calf-deep in water. 

Gross.

The second day we continued on to the conference center, and upon my arrival I was informed that since I was a member of the planning committee, I earned the right to carry a walkie talkie.

And people say dreams don't come true.

You better believe that I clipped that technological status symbol to my belt post haste.  I also held it to my ear periodically to appear as though I was listening to some top secret information, despite the fact that no one ever told me what channel to use so the whole thing was completely useless.

NOT ONLY was I given a walkie-talkie, but take a gander at the card that conference attendees were given when they checked in.

Thaaaaat's right.  

Oh Laura Darling was the emergency contact. 

Do you know how many people found themselves in emergent situations and contacted me?  Zero.  Which was probably good because there was no cell phone service where we were staying, and the only way to call for help was with the walkie talkie that I couldn't use.

It's really a shame I didn't put the walkie talkie to good use though, because I had the lingo DOWN PAT.

Roger that.

10-4.

Over and out.