Hell has frozen over...

I have gotten myself a real job. I feel a little bit like Pinnochio at the moment (the real boy bit not the nose) So for those of you, if any, who are still reading this or looking here on the off chance that I might have something to say.... Hooray for me! right?


Bed etiquette?

I've realized that I don't really have good manners. I mean I know all the basic stuff like please and thank you's. Have a strong handshake and look people in the eye. Send thank you notes after interviews and when you are a house guest. Don't take the last beer in the fridge etc.
But I'm afraid, especially after vacationing with best pal T and sister where we shared rented studio apartments which involved bed sharing, that I am a horrific bed hog. Yes, that's me. Not only am I little big and piggish for my liking these days, but I am also a swine in the bed. I thought maybe this was a phase. I thought that in my singledom, I had simply gotten used to sleeping all alone in my big queen sized bed - with room to do bed angels or sleep diagonally without anyone complaining. But now that I have someone sharing my bed on a semi-regular basis, I am still doing the butt-scootch-push-them-off-the-bed REM cycle dance. It's so embarrassing and un-ladylike. So imagine my surprise when I took this sleep test below. It asks you seemingly random questions like:
When it comes to food, in what area do you tend to err?
a)Chocolate, frozen goods, hard-boiled sweets
b)Cheeses, hard and soft
c)The oils
d)It's all a matter of proximity
This was a particularly difficult question for me to answer. After candidly answering the questionnaire I discovered that my sleep pose is not, as I suspected, "bed hog" but rather, "excalibur"! Qu'elle suprise! How noble! How galant! and, my, how flexible I seem!

I am a excalibur!
Find your own pose!



Dear Reader

For you, my faithful only reader, I am posting this so that you will not delete this humble blog from your bookmarks. Thank you for checking here dutifully everyday. I have no nugget of wisdom to impart on you today, nor do I have any fantastic tales of drunken debauchery. I have recently discovered that I am not wise. I can actually be quite a fool. I am also not immune to the effects of imbibing alcohol, eating delicious fried food and getting all my aerobic activity from the opening and closing of the refrigerator door. I am diligently trying to compose a New Year, New Me sonnet so stay tuned.



are so stressful. And I don't even have a job to interfere with all the gift getting and cookie baking and season's greetings sending. How do you still manage to have holiday cheer to go home to your relatives after all that? I will be driving today to beat (hopefully) some holiday traffic. Happy F*ing Holidays friends!


Deep thoughts late at night

In the name of craft, I've taken it upon myself to make an attempt to follow in the footsteps of some of my heroes: Hemingway, Carver, Dad. Instead of being moved to write or being overcome with inspiration, I find myself having these late night pseudo-intellectual introspective conversations about things like religion and philosophy and being moved. And really, I think this poster really sums it all up. Now that I feel resolved perhaps I can get back to the writing of things I will never let anyone read.


Vagabond Thanksgiving

I had a rather unorthodox thanksgiving. It was my mission to participate in a parent-less celebration this year. Nothing against parents or having them carve the turkey but last year's divorced parents dinner crawl was just not something I wanted to repeat. Not to abandon all my holiday traditions, I did bake something pumpkiny. Got this pumpkin cheesecake recipe on epicurious.

So, I fenagled myself an invitation to the 3rd annual "The Vagabond Thanksgiving" It's pretty self explanatory, a bunch of East Coasters and Can't-afford/Be Bothered-to-travel-on-the-busiest-weekend-of-the-year people - get together for a rooftop potluck giving of thanks extravaganza. There was traditional fare- a huge turkey with stuffing, sweet potato casserole, some veggies (broccoli,asparagus,potatos) and some more edgy dishes like a goat-cheese laced rice pilaf and a spicy homemade salsa with which I fashioned myself a pretty tasty Turkey Taco. And of course there was alcohol- the house drink being a curious concoction of apple juice and vodka called a George Washington. There was also a $85 pot for who ever would drink an entire mixing bowl full of gravy. Hank said he would have done it, but I told him I would have paid him $85 to NOT drink the gizzard juice. yuck.

This is what happened to the cheesecake, homemade apple pie and double fudge, blueberry white chocolate brownies (which didn't survive long enough for this shot) after the special cigarrettes were passed around. And in the spirit of giving thanks... thanks to the two of you that read this here blog. It really means alot. I don't usually quote myself, but this is for Hank: "Who would I be if I didn't have my parents to scorn?"


rat race

Last week I attempted to get a job. That was a close one.