Niiiiice hips

Walking out of the store with my arms full of four giant bags of stuff I crossed the parking lot to my car. A man walking toward me slowed down, pulled the cigar out of his mouth and said, "Mmm mmm. You've got some niiiice hips." My response hovered somewhere between "Huh?" "Ooook..." and "Pfft!" I looked down to avoid eye contact and realized that there is no way this guy could even see my hips! My plastic shopping bags had formed what looked like a giant intertube around my middle.
What is the correct response to something like that? "Thanks, I work out." Or maybe, "You know it! Workin what I've got." I have no idea. And I'm still slightly disturbed.

(Photo from Google Images)

Unrequited love

Last week this was the front page of the U of M's website. And I think I might have fallen in love.
Ok, fine...it's more of a crush than true love (a slightly stalkerish crush if we're honest since I've never actually met the guy in person). My Sister thinks he's cute too but she's all married and stuff so I get to call dibs, even though she's older. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I run into this guy on campus but with one of the top five largest student bodies in the country what are the chances it'll actually happen? There are over 50,000 students on campus and then when you add in faculty and staff it starts to seem fairly hopeless. No one in my office knows him (yes, I might have asked around) but maybe one of you do. If so, please send him to me, preferably all wrapped up with a bow, mmmk?
Pleaseandthankyouverymuch!

Vote for me?

It's a Friday. You're wishing you got to leave at noon and head up north to the cabin (kind of like I do..ha! sorry. had to do it.) but instead you're stuck at work. Need to kill some time?
VOTE FOR ME!
So, here's the deal. I was recently selected as a finalist for the Pioneer Press store trooper tryouts. The store troopers are kind of like secret shoppers who try out and review deals/products around the Twin Cities. There were 30 of us picked out of 300 applicants to do an audition at the Mall of America last weekend and now you can vote online. A group of panelist will choose most of the winners but votes will also decide a fan favorite who will automatically become a store trooper. If you have a few minutes to vote for me I'd appreciate it! Winners to be announced this Sunday in the paper and of course I'll let you know if I make it in.

Here is the link and I'm in the second row on the far right. Select the vote circle under my picture and remember to enter the security code at the top of the page. You can vote more than once!

Shine

Sometimes you stumble upon a song that says exactly what you needed to hear. Yesterday Working Girl 2 posted her work jams playlist and on that playlist was a song that said, well, exactly what I needed to hear. It was "Shine" by Anna Nalick. There are a few people who read Sidenote who I think need to hear it too so here it is...

Tied together

There are millions of people in the world but there are one or two that you are tied to and the spirits will cross you back and forth, threading so many knots until they catch and you finally get it right.
-Native American saying

Catscientious objector

The other day I washed my sheets and I think the Crack Fairy sprinkled something in my drier to make me sleep better because the past two nights I've been out like a light. It has been GLORIOUS, considering I'm usually up 2-3 times a night depending on a) how much water I drank after work and b) how bored Ebs gets.
The little scamp decided she really likes the bed without the sheets and just her on the bed.

When I insisted on putting the sheets back on she protested. Apparently my cat is a conscientious objector when it comes to bedding.

Out on the town II

Like I said yesterday, every once in a while Kelsey and I do actually muster up the motivation to go out. This weekend it actually happened Friday AND Saturday night. Impressive, I know.
There must have been something in the water at these places (or firewater) because everywhere we went there were cute bartenders. Saturday we were hanging out, very much enjoying the people watching at The Local when I said, "Hey, look at that bartender. He is cahute!"
Kelsey looked, turned back to me and said,"You took your contacts out, didn't you?"
"Yeah, why?"
She laughed. "Because we went to grade school with him..."
"Well he is still cute," I said as I squinted.

Out on the town

Sometimes Kelsey and I get adventurous and we go out on the weekend. To a bar. At night. I know, it sounds a little strange for two 24 year olds to go out but we all know we're actually little old ladies so its ok for us. Or maybe that should be the other way around...
Whatever.
So Friday night we went to Bulldog and after waiting eleventy billion hours for a table (ok maybe it was like 5 minutes but whatever) two spots opened up at the bar and since the bartender was cute and had been flirting with us for the eleventy billion hours (aka 5 minutes) we'd been standing there, we snagged the barstools and ordered us some drinks (and by some drinks I mean one each...the whole time we were there). Now, the aforementioned cute bartender introduced himself as either Justin or Joseph but neither of us can be totally sure because again, we're senile and it was loud in that place. LOUD. He continued to flirt with us calling Kelsey "Blondie" (like she has never gotten that before) and me "California" (again with the originality). Given the nicknames he chose we should not have been surprised when he fully launched himself into bartender cliche mood but somehow it still caught us unaware. It happened when I asked him for the tab and he pretended to pout, asking, "Where are you guys going next?"
"We're not sure yet," I lied through my teeth knowing full well it was fast approaching bedtime and neither of us would be going anywhere but home next.
"Aww, well, you should come back at like 1:30. I think it's going to rain and I rode my motorcycle to work." Oh Ju...Jo..Jawhateveryournameis. Of course you rode your motorcycle to work. And of course you had to tell us that.
"That's what cabs are for, buddy," I said (notice my ingenious method of avoiding saying his actual name). Now you may think I was being rude but really I was just deflecting so neither of us would have to admit we would be SOUND asleep by 1:30am. Sound. Asleep.
We smiled prettily at him while he tried to figure out if he had just been shot down, or maybe he was trying to figure out why he hadn't thought of taking a cab but either way we gave him a tidy tip and skipped off to bed like good little girls. It was 10:00pm.

Recycle! Reuse!

Wednesday was my first day back at work but the funny thing is, no one seemed to notice me. Ok I take that back--Mentor Pam did but since her office is directly across from me I'd find it strange if she didn't. Boss and our admin assistant walked by my desk 4 or 5 times and didn't see me. Come Thursday everyone stopped by and said hi and welcomed me back, even though I had passed all of them at least once the day before.

Maybe it is because I came in for a half day at noon, I'm not sure, but whatever the reason it has worked to my advantage because this morning I could not figure out what to wear. With legs still so sunburned it hurts to sleep jeans were not an option and since my skin is still the color of a red apple a skirt wouldn't work either. My solution? I put on the exact same comfortable outfit I had on Wednesday because I figured no one would know I wore it two days ago. So far so good. Although now any of my coworkers who read this will probably think I'm dirty and never wash my clothes. Oh well...

Owie

You know those people at the beach who have strange blotchy red patches all over their skin where they missed with the sunblock?
I am that person.
Bright red up the backs of both legs and one big spotch on my left shoulder blade. Oh well, shows you just how well sunblock CAN work if you actually get it on all over. Its not like it hurts all the time or anything---just when I sit, walk, or move. NBD! Haha, it was worth it for a perfect day laying on the beach with Sister...

Tic tac toe

Someone was having a little fun in the sky. Three views of different directions around my office. Looks like tic tac toe to me!



I wonder who won...

A special appearance

Guess who stopped by yesterday to visit...
ALBERT!
And he brought with him his very special lady friend, Elaine. Aren't they a striking couple?







Miss Ebony was just dying to meet them but I told her not to feel snubbed when they flew away; I'm not sure they travel in the same social circles...

Everyone is a critic

I got told what's what by a four year old last night. Chalking up the sidewalk with the next door neighbor girls, Fia requested a cat. It was a pretty dapper cat, if I do say so myself, with green paws added by the almost three year old. Then she wanted a dog. Apparently this one didn't go so well because the little boy from across the street came over to check on my progress and asked, "What's the pink dot?"
"That's the nose," I said.
He responded, "But cookies don't have noses!"
Sigh.
I guess when it comes to sidewalks I should stick to poetry.

Tune in tomorrow for a very special guest...

My Hallelujah Song

This is my view driving home from work every day; it is spring and life is good.






If I tried to list everything that is good in my life right now I would be typing 'till the day I die. Instead I'll just let you listen to the song I put on repeat these days because I feel like I could have written it myself.

Elevator Confusion

Recently I celebrated my one year work anniversary. The celebration included lunch out with Boss and an afternoon DQ Blizzard icecream run with a coworker. Pretty sweet, right? So you'd think that after a full year I'd have the ins and outs of my office and the building where it is housed under control.
Not so.
The U of M has miles and miles of underground tunnels (somewhere between 6 and 9 miles, I can't remember the exact number) and (hallelujah hallelujah) there is one that connects my building to the parking garage so in the winter I never have to go outside to get to my car. The elevator from said tunnel to said parking garage confounds me every single time I use it, never fail. See, on one side of the elevator is the up button and on the other side of the elevator is the firefighter call key hole. And they look exactly. The. Same.


Inevitably at the end of a long day (and really, what work days aren't long?) I will push the non-button on the right and wait for approximately 2 to 17 minutes for the elevator to show up before I realize that in order to call it I needed to push the actual up button on the left. Even better is when other people show up and wait with me, assuming I'm an intelligent enough person to have pushed the correct button. That's when I feel really cool.
(Sorry about the blur. I took about ten pictures of each side and this was the best I could do...)
P.S. I still get a headache if I think too hard about which crosswalk to use.

Allergy overload

Yesterday I woke up feeling like every ounce of pollen in the Greater Twin Cities had settled in my sinuses and then coated the inside of my throat. In other words, bad news bears. My muscles ached, my glands were swollen and eyes hurt. I decided it had to be allergies because really, I just don't have time to be sick.

You would think something in my slew of sick supplies would make me feel better...lots of water, Disney Princess chicken noodle soup, zinc with calcium...SOMETHING. I was feeling marginally better by the afternoon when a song popped into my head. Somehow JET made me feel better when none of the other stuff could.

Listen with caution...it might get seriously stuck in your head on repeat for the rest of the day. That's what happened to me.

One less dish

Back around Christmas time I wrote Santa a very nice letter asking him for Tupperware to bring my lunches in for work. This sparked quite the controversy in the comments section: plastic versus glass reusable containers. Well, Santa brought me BOTH but I especially love my set of Pyrex bowls with lids. Three sizes! Two each! Blue tops! So exciting!

Then, last night, getting out of the car trying to balance a grocery bag, heels, and a gallon of milk disaster hit. The pretty Pyrex bowl from lunch slipped out of my purse and shattered into a gazillion pieces, all over the garage floor. My first thought was, "Noooooo! Now I won't have an even set." My second thought was, "Oh well. One less dish to wash."

Shiny night, sans storm

The weather team at www.wcco.com has been lying to me. For two weeks all I've been getting from them are lies, lies, dirty lies. They have been predicting thunderstorms by 1:00pm almost every single day and only ONCE did they pull through for me. Even then it was actually 3:00am when it started thundering and it only lasted for 15 minutes. What a rip off.
You see, I have that midwesterner characteristic where I absolutely positively ADORE thunderstorms. Unless the sirens are going off my favorite place to be is on a porch watching the action. If the sirens are blaring then I scoop up Ebs and hunker down in my "storm shelter" (aka the corner of my basement where I've put two spare sofa chairs complete with ottomans, side tables, a blanket and a battery operated radio. I am PREpared.)
Yesterday, however, I was actually kind of glad they were ridiculously off base with their forecast. Instead of rain it was a still evening with spring leaf filtered sun.
I walked to the store to get food for dinner, met a duck and named him Albert and even ate outside on the patio. Since today is in fact gray and potentially rainy (keep your fingers crossed!) I think I'll post the pictures I took on my bright, shiny evening walk.



Neighborhood grocery store and one of about a dozen churches nearby

I have Quaker neighbors. They have tulips.

Another Quaker tulip. They sure know how to grow 'em!

Miss. 'Fia's princess throne, abandoned for dinner time

Home again...front steps of The Stanford House

Don't judge me: Mothers Day 2009

Mom, Dad, Paul and I all settled in around my beautifully set brunch table on Sunday to enjoy a feast: french toast with strawberries, scrambled eggs with brie cheese, tomatoes and spinach, orange juice in wine glasses, and bacon. I used my good china, fancy napkins and my new place mats. The centerpiece was a gorgeous arrangement of stargazer lilies, purple orchids and some lavender spritzy baby's breath-esque fillers. "Cal, the flowers are gorgeous! Where did you get them?"

Paul looked at me, saw the frozen look on my face and burst out laughing. "Yeah, where did you get them?" He taunted. He burst out laughing so hard I thought he was going to choke on his bacon and got me laughing, too. I could hardly talk. Tears streamed down my face.
"Promise not to judge me?" I asked. My parents looked at each other, slightly alarmed, but they did promise. "Well," I took a deep breath and choked out, "I got them in the alley out of my neighbor's trash bin."
"No," Dad said in disbelief, "You didn't." I explained how I had seen a giant bouquet with some perfectly fine stems looking so bright and cheery that I couldn't leave them languishing in a dirty dumpster. After about five minutes of hysterical laughter we started to calm down, clutching our stomachs.
"Mom why did you ask me where I got them? You've never asked me that before."
"I don't know," she answered, "but I'm never asking again!"