this is a post about puke

If you are as grossed out by vomit as I am by loud gum chewing I advise you to quit reading. I’m going to tell you about my niece Carolina ejecting an entire meal of formula onto my sweatshirt on Saturday. This stuff she “eats” smells so foul in its pre-ingested state that I don’t even want to have to describe what it smells like the second time around. I’m also going to tell you about Dan’s stomach flu incident that landed us in the ER yesterday. Let’s just say the bath mat and the shower curtain are currently soaking in the washing machine. There was a throw-up chucking alien hiding in Dan's stomach yesterday. Every time Dan moved the little fucker would fire it up.

I’m grossing myself out so I’m going to wrap this one up. Just a friendly warning: the ER doc, Dr. McSlowasfuck, says there is a stomach virus going around. Wash your hands.

put the gum down and no one gets hurt

Dear Cubicle Neighbor,

What new information can I tell you about cubicles that hasn't already been said? Cubicles are small, yes, obviously. Cubicles are drab, boring, lifeless caves of despair; this much we know. Our cubicles rival any teeny working spaces I've ever seen, on TV or otherwise, with their 12 foot gray padded walls and "privacy doors" that make the "entrance" a mere crack through which we squeeze. However, as awful as most cubicles may be, there is one thing most offices don't have that I get the displeasure of experiencing every day. Cubicle Neighbor, I speak of your gum chewing.

Every time I hear you open your desk drawer I get a shiver if disgust from head to toe, top to bottom, my body retracts in the certain misery that will soon greet me. I hear you unwrapping your gum and I get the urge to bolt, to "shut this bitch down" as my good friend Kristi often says. As soon as the gum enters your mouth I cringe and cover my ears. For the next 45 minutes I am forced to suffer through your awful, smacking, wet, chewing gum noises. Forgive the cliche; your gum is nails and your teeth, well, they're the chalkboard Cubicle Neighbor.

I really, really wish you could just shut your damn trap and chew your gum as if you were a normal person. I really wish my back didn't face the "entrance" of my cubicle so I could wear headphones and not have to worry about people sneaking up on me and catching me using the Internet while I'm supposed to be working. I really wish there was a gum ban in our office, except for me, because I like chewing gum after lunch.

Please, please Cubicle Neighbor, be mindful of the exasperating noises that escape your mouth. We are not 2, but 6 people sharing a very small space. What used to be a storage closet is now our work area; I hope you can appreciate how each little smacking noise affects us all.

Thank you for your time in considering my feelings. I hope you will take my words to heart and discontinue all use of gum.

Sincerely,
Me

PS - Please cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze, please stop clearing your throat every 2 minutes and the x in faux suede is silent. thanks.

time to pray

My friends Amy and Taylor are engaged and will be married in August. As if this wasn't stressful enough, Taylor has this majorly HUGE and IMPORTANT test he's taking tomorrow and Saturday. I think the test is to become a certified financial planner (correct me if I'm wrong Aimes). The testing process was a series of small tests followed by one BIG one that will take up most of the day tomorrow and all damn day on Saturday. From what I hear Taylor has been studying his skinny ass off and Amy has been praying like she's never prayed before.
I really love these two; they are a blast to have around and they are two of the hardest working people that I know. They know how to work their assess off and, more importantly, they know how to party their asses right back on.
So if you read this today please say a prayer for Taylor. I personally am wishing him strength, mental focus, lots of patience with himself the next two days and a little bit of luck (which can't hurt) I am also sending lots of positive energy his way. Good luck Taylor, we know you will do great! I can't wait to celebrate in May when you get the results.

dairy free me

My inability to run any substantial distance has me second guessing my diet. The sluggishness has to come from somewhere, right? I drink plenty of water, get more than enough sleep and eat lots of fruit and veggies so I am left with one heartbreaking conclusion. It's time to say goodbye to my beloved dairy. This is no surprise, I was diagnosed with a debilitating and potentially fatal dairy allergy about 3 years ago (I am exaggerating; the only side effect to my dairy consumption is lethargy, occasional digestive discomfort of which I will not elaborate and a big ass). Since then I haven't been able to effectively banish dairy from my life; especially cheese which I love SO much. As my gut gets bigger and my chin starts to duplicate I am forced to face reality. So I have put the kibosh on the dairy starting today. There were left over scalloped potatoes from Easter, obviously those had to be consumed last night. So today is day 1.

I present to you my lunch:








See? No dairy. You probably can't tell from the picture but there is no cheese in my sandwich. The chips are plain (and baked, go health).

It will be really hard to not eat dairy. My goal is to last until May 11th, the day of the race. This means no quesadillas, no grilled cheese, no burritos, no cheesy hash browns on weekend mornings, no blue cheese stuffed olives, no pizza, not even simple delicious cheese and crackers. If giving up all that wasn't bad enough I also have to say goodbye to butter, cream cheese, sour cream and dairy creamer for my coffee. I will be honest with you; I don't know if I can do it. If I slip up I'll let you know. Until then I'll be eating carrots and drinking soy milk like a stinky spinning hippie.

Run Forest!

I don't know what got into me when I decided to train for a 5K. Kristi  and I were at sushi one night and she said she would like to train for something, you know, like assign herself some goal so she doesn't just feel like a hamster on the wheel. I'm paraphrasing, she didn't say it like that. For some reason, I agreed. I went home and looked up the next 5K in our area and emailed her the info. I even found us an 8 week running program titled "the couch to 5K in 8 weeks" or something really appealing that made me think I could actually succeed. So now I'm gasping through week 2 and I'm already $120 in (let's, of course I had to get new shoes). I've already registered and told Dan and my family so there's no quitting. 

I am delusional. I am harboring illusions that I'm this guy (minus the mental retardation):

I am no Gump. I can't just run across the country on a whim. Nobody is going to give me some kind of scholarship for my previously undiscovered athletic abilities. In junior high our PE teacher Mr. Murphy would make us run the Murphy Mile 3 times a week. Those days had me cowering in the corner trying to concoct some mysterious ailment or trying to pass off some falsified note from my parents saying running was against our religion. I went to Catholic school by the way, so yeah, maybe I am retarded.

I suppose 6 weeks from now I'll find out what I can really do. 3 miles is not a long distance for some people but it's just about a marathon to me. I will keep you posted on my progress. In the meantime I'll be out looking for a truckload of adolescent inbred hillbilly Alabamans to chase me and throw rocks. Maybe that will work.

T.G.I. go F yourself

What is up with my coworkers' obsession with the day of the week? I asked someone this morning a simple "how are you?" and the reply was "it's Friday". OK, seriously? I get what you're trying to say but come on, "it's Friday" is not an acceptable answer to "how are you?". Why do people let the week days control their emotions? Do you really feel like shit because it's Monday? Are you really doing ok because Wednesday is hump day which is almost Friday? I understand Monday through Friday are a knuckle dragging marathon through Satan's lair but do you really need to remind me what day it is every time I ask you a question? Please, stop and think. That's the problem; people don't want to think, or care about things. "It's Friday" is just a simple answer to get rid of me, to get me out of your hair. You don't really care how I am; I don't really care how you are. That much is established, but please, let's leave the days of the week out of it. I own a calendar, and a pair of eyes. Thanks for your consideration and have a great weekend.

30 for 30

Did you know this month is 30 for 30 at participating Seattle area restaurants? I just found out; I'm pretty upset I've let this deal pass for 19 days already. It used to be 25 for 25. That is, 25 participating restaurants offer a 3 course menu for only 25 bucks. Dan and I went to The Barking Frog and The Third Floor Fish Cafe. Both were really good and it was a great chance to try some places we wouldn't otherwise patronize. Let's, money is tight and we can't exactly dine our way around the town these days. So now, without my participation (or my consent) the deal has changed to 30 for 30. I'm not mad at it though; it's a pleasant surprise to wrap up a month which was otherwise uneventful.

Click here to check out who's offering what. I'll let you know if we take advantage of these last few days to defraud the public into thinking we can afford a nice meal out.

black velvet, if you please

Last night Dan's friend Ryan took us out to an amazing dinner at the Met. In the spirit of St. Patrick's Day we drank a round of Black Velvets. This is the first time I've heard of mixing Guinness with champagne. I have to say, it is delicious. It was the perfect drink for the occasion now that I think about it. The dinner was a wedding gift from Ryan so the mix of the two was quite approriate.

When we first got there I ordered a Snake Bite, thinking I'd get Guinness and cider, but I got some crazy whiskey drink instead. It wasn't so bad, but I was still pretty dissapointed that I didn't get what I ordered. So it was a really nice surprise how good the Black Velvet turned out. I highly reccomend this drink, put it in heavy rotation on your schedule. Let's be honest, I don't go out that much but next time I do chances are good you'll find me enjoying a sweet frothy Black Velvet.

the vice is right

Here's an addiction I can feel good about: Erin's Low Saturated Fat Popcorn. I can't stop eating this stuff. My former office mate Marcy got me hooked; now a trip to QFC isn't complete without a bag of this salty goodness. It's not so bad though, unlike meth or crack, Erin's popcorn is free of harmful chemicals. It's way cheaper than a yearlong membership to the Emperor's Club VIP and there's no risk of any federal investigations. I don't even have to pay in cash to cover my tracks. Let's be honest here, this is a vice worth holding on to.

I cannot advice so please stop asking

Dear Coworker,

I am not so fond of you. It's not because you demand the impossible (lower prices, earlier deliveries, quality at an affordable price, interest in your children/birthday/marital problem/stomach ailment/son's college entrance requirements/dog/car troubles). No, it's not those things. What I'm referring to here is the horrendous grammar that pollutes the messages in my inbox. I get this hastily written garbage daily. Before you hit send, read your email. I'd wager a hefty sum that you'll be as repulsed as I am once you realize how you look when you send me this steamy load of words.

This is the one. This is the mistake grinds my insides: "please advice". I let this one go for a long time. I understand that Microsoft bungled this one when they programmed spell check. Let's be honest though, this is not a difficult mistake to recognize. I assume you have been educated, and I assume at some point during your education you learned the parts of speech. Apparently I have made an ass of you, as well as myself. Here is a refresher, and I don't want to have to tell you again.

Advise = verb, advice = noun. It is not possible to advice. So quit asking me to do so. I cannot advice, even if you say please. I can't advice if the shoe is blue or yellow. I can't advice if the price is 4 dollars or 3. I am willing to ignore the various other grammatical errors in your emails if you just cut it out with this "advice" nonsense. I'll ignore your lack of knowlege concerning the use of elipses (i.e. "Hi Team....... ...... ....... ....). I'll even ignore your obnoxious use of the word "team" as a greeting in all of your emails (not grammatically incorrect but annoying nonetheless). Please, take my advice to heart. We will both be better people.

Sincerely,

Me