Once More with Feeling.

Pimp that product and then some!

These three ladies bring "Pimp That Product" to a whole 'nother level. This site is awesome (and aptly named "Oh my, that's awesome!") which gives such a variety of cool shit, you'll just have to check it out for yourself.  Gadgets, fashion, music, skincare, stuff for your house/apt....it's all there. Need a cool gift idea for a friend who's impossible to buy for? Go here.  Looking for something outside of the Target realm (tho they could pimp The Target)? Also here. Creative, funky, clever, quirky, funny, pretty and just supah cool.

(They even one better it with coupons on some items and have a Sale sidebar.  BRILLIANT!)

Speaking of sidebars, I'm linking it under "Rehab is for Quitters".

Toenails, Etc.

I've come into a odd toenail situation recently and wonder a) have you had this occur and if so ) what do/did you do?

The nail on my big toe has been ripped (torn?) about 3/4th across the width of the toe, about 2/3rds of the way down. At the slow rate that toes grow, I am thinking it's only a matter of time before it's torn across 100%, which, ...blech. The thought makes my teeth hurt.  And also, gross.

Right now I have a bandaid covering it. I found it to be a better, gentler stop gap solution to stapling it down.

Any thoughts? Am I just to resign myself to the fact that I am a ticking time bomb until I am The Girl with One Third Toenail? Is there toe superglue out there? Also, will this hurt?

Marathoners get this, I know. But they crazy. It's a badge of honor of sorts. They take pride in missing toenails. Yeah me, not so much.

We. Are. Fam-i-ly.

Yesterday afternoon I met up with my sisters, their husbands and kids, a few of my uncles, and my  aunt at my grandparents' house. For a few hours, my grandparents kitchen and living room was a flash back in time about 30 years, when it was us girls doing the running and the playing.

A "few" pictures from the day because I am Crazy Aunt With Camera (and no restraining order...yet).

Ok, fiiiiine, I'll pair it down to the highlights...

Here we have Libby, smiling (only took me 2 months). Em had her dressed up in her adorable sweatsuit which she begged the wearer prior to their interstate trek, "Please don't poop through this. Please, Lib. Just make it to Gram's." I am sure she is not the first mother to have this discussion with their baby.

In case you didn't know Lib's deal, her couture, JLo inspired sweatsuit would subtley remind you:

She is bootylicious, no?  At least it did not read, "Juicy". That would be just plain gross.

I think in the Mommy Books the should get into a little more detail about the effects of sleep deprivation.  As Em was telling me, "I was getting frustrated nursing one night. 'C'mon, Libby, just latch. C'monnnn...', until Kris told me I was trying to feed a pillow and that Lib was still in the bassinet."  Kate confirmed she had done the same exact thing.

I give you one guess what Sarah had for lunch:

In a batch of bricks that have been with my grandparents since the 1950s (which, given their size, I am not sure if they are in fact "street legal" anymore, so keep it on the down low), was this one yellow plastic figure. When we asked Sarah what it was, she said, "it's a goose."  It was a wolf. Eh, close enough.   Uncle George explained to Sar that he was afraid the wolf would bite him, so Sarah would cautiously bring Wolf over and cover his mouth so  that he wouldn't bite George.

She had her older cousin, Bella, with her as her entertainment/sidekick.  I think Sarah wants to BE Bella (note the same shoes). Later, they would be busted for jumping on the couch and Kate would call Time Out. By the looks of Sarah's posture, she is not new to this scene:

My grandfather (age 93) would be found singing to Owen (and Libby - both age 0) messing with the lyrics to "I got Two Chickens in My Backyard".  I must say, snaps to Papa's hairstylist.

Eventually, it was time to put on our hats and coats and say goodbye.

I do not think they had Libby wrapped up enough. Next time, Em, More Fleece!

Mensa Dropouts

So while not "thinning the herd" calibre like Dawn's townies but definitely those guys cousins I believe.

In the local Boston news, 2 people were busted for dealing prescription drugs in the JFK office building.  The same builing that houses the DEA.

That's some balls.

Sybil at the Switch

Since I prefer music over the gentle hum of the office lights, I bring my iPod into work and play it on this docking station/player I have for it (hand-me-down from dear old Dad).  Instead of listening to my usual playlists ("80's faves", "dance party", "chill", "Dad", "snowboarding", "running", etc.) today I decided to put the thing on shuffle. Yeah, there is neither ryhme nor reason as to what I listen to at all.  If it moves me literally or otherwise, I download it.

So for you, the first 20 songs that  the shuffle spit out.

• Burning Bridges - Jason Mraz
• Take Five - Dave Brubeck
• Love Song - The Story (not The Cure remake)
• Nothing New - Ashlee Simpson (shut up)
• Where the Party At - Jagged Edge
• Cool - Gwen Stefani
• Soar - Christina Aquilera
• Out of Reach - Gabrielle (from Bridget Jones' Diary s-track)
• Headstrong - Trapt
• The Seed (2.0) - The Roots and Cody Chesnut
• Fresh Off the Boat - Nelly Fertado
• Only You - 112 & Notorious B.I.G.
• Video - India Arie
• Everybody Got Their Something - Nikka Costa
• Walter's Theme - R.E.M.
• Boogie on Reggae Woman - Stevie Wonder
• Method of Modern Love - Hall & Oates
• Fragile - Sting
• Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benetar
• 608 (Etown Theme) - Nancy Wilson (from Elizabethtown s-track)

I'm not sure if this makes me a music marketing team's dream or worst nightmare.

Tuesdays with Jennie

Apparently the quad is NOT completely healed from last week's adventure and so, dear friends and people who barely tolerate my ass, this is what you'll find me doing Tuesdays late night until it's fixed.  Fucking leg. (first kid to make the crack that I'm getting old gets a knuckle sandwich, ya hear me?)

"Stretch"-- who heard of such a silly thing.

(Note the Coke Zero on the lower half of the coffee table. Had I panned out further for the shot, you would have witnessed another can on the "upper deck" of the table which I drank before jetting for my game. Not only is this God's gift to the cola industry (and if you haven't tried it yet, what on God's green earth are you waiting for--"an engraved invitation??") but, um, also doubles as a sports drink. Just ask me. Um, balancing electrolytes via  the uhh...caffeine? wait, no  ...finely tuned athletes, like the ones in Torino (curlers in particular, I'm told) rely on this as it...it  also helps with hydration by the....ehh...um....FLUX CAPACITER! FLUX CAPACITER!!)

"I think we're gonna need a bigger pair of pants."

When you're lazy (like me) and are seated near a vending machine < 10 steps from your cube, you will find yourself with a renewed relationship with said machine. As the kids would say, "we're back together again."  I'm feeling pangs that I might want to make a committment. Maybe we'll renew our vows or something. Who knows?

A bag of Lays, a bag of Doritos, and a Snickers bar (thanks a lot, Shan) for lunch today (so far, as of 1:30 EST, 2:30 EST).

I am never going to lunch again unless I am dragged out the door kicking & screaming by someone, am I?

Mercy, mercy me.

Reason #212 why I will take my sister's call at work...

Friday, Kate called in with the latest installment from The Sarah Files.  After telling me how Sarah thought she looked like me (in her "cool" jeans, "I look cool just like Aunt Jennie, Mom"--I guess I must wear jeans a lot) there was this little bathroom story.

As Kate was out and about shopping with her, in one of the stores she had to run Sarah over to the ladies' room, as little Sarah's stomach was brewing a storm named for the same gait they were taking.

It should be noted that regardless of what type of poo this kid manufactures, to say that for such a little kid that she can create quite the stink would be like saying Hell's a little unseasonably warm. Really...  d-amn, Sarah.  So Kate, who had been getting on Sarah's nerves of late, asked Sarah if she was finished (as you do when in a stall with a little kid).  Making the international sign for "holy stink, batman" and muttering a "p-u" commentary, Sarah flushed the toilet, shot back a barely tolerant, "MOM, ...give me a minute, " sat there and, well, continued about her business until she was done.

To recap: This 3 year old knows the concept of the Courtesy Flush. And not only does she know it, she utilizes it properly.

Yeah, so what tricks can YOUR kid do?

The Grudge

I don't really know where to begin here so I'll just start off that I am mad.  Irritated. Sitting here, stewing. Last night was not the most fun of evenings out for me. A bunch of us went going out for my friend Christine's birthday.  I was not really up for it, as I knew that I would be hanging out with E and our history together was so-so at best.  But, Christine's a friend and she had taken me out a few weeks ago for mine. After consulting Mike, the moral compass, as I was trying to think of a way to bail, I asked him, "what would you do?" He'd said he'd at least go to dinner (which I was told was at 8:00) and this was gonna be my plan. After plans changing about a half dozen times, we learned that we couldn't get a reservation until 10:00 so Christine & I were going to cab it over to E's house in the North End and hang out there until dinner.  This, as you might imagine, less than thrilled me.

Christine came over my house as I finished getting ready. Initially, E had offered to pick us up and drive us over to her house but then recanted her offer, which quite honestly was perfectly fine with me. What was not perfectly fine with me, however, was the bomb Christine dropped while sitting on my couch waiting for me. "Yeah, I bet the reason she took back the offer to drive us over was so that she & M could do lines."  Now I've known E for the better part of 10 years, and while we aren't tight, I did not think this was "her bag". I should have bailed right then as it would be an omen for how well the night would go.

We made our way over and I met E's uh, live-in amore, Antonio (his real name, cuz seriously, fuck him) who has been in the States from Italy for about 6 years.  Antonio lived up to every Italian playboy stereotype. He thinks he hot, God's gift to women, and hit on me and Christine (both beau-less at this event) with everything he had. E was familiar with his "charms" and admitted that yeah, he's a big flirt and blahblah. I made it clear to E that I was in no way encouraging his affections (if you can call it that) and she was completely aware of  the situation and okay with it (yeah, I don't...?). Eventually, Christine's cousin and her date arrived and things were more or less fine what with there being a group of seven. E, who normally gets on my nerves when there's booze involved, was actually pretty decent and I was able to deflect Antonio's advances to keep the evening bearable.

Until Christine's cousin and date left, and he tried to stick his tongue down my throat while I was putting in a new CD.

Shoving him off me, stating plain as day the message "no dice/c'mon, man, enough," he recoiled.

Dinner plans changed yet again when no one was really in the mood to travel out, we ate in (a dinner made by the offending Antonio who would not hear of us ordering pizza) and things were okay (again, I was here for my friend Christine). He'd even made Christine a homemade tirimasu. Okay, that was nice.

Until after dinner he would start up again. Touchy feely with both of us girls. Us with our humor waning. E saying nothing (or in the bathroom, "God knows why").

After dinner we headed to a club in town that E had gotten on some VIP list. Out of friendship for Christine, I went (Christine and I being the 2 not on drugs, I felt she needed a buddy).  Attempts of other grossness continued but the final straw came when Antonio bought me a rose in front of E (which she did not see) which I said I did NOT want and I even asked him, "um, so I'm to say this is from who exactly when she sees it?" Eventually he got up from the couch to see E and before he did, tried to tongue me again.

This is where I snapped. I told Christine and M that I wanted to go home "and I want to go home NOW. I am going home, NOW."

I didn't want E or her jerk to see me leave, I just wanted to make a quick and painless getaway. Tip to friends who see me like this...NEVER hold me up with your goodbyes. I can appreciate your "you poor baby"s and "that's too bad"s and such, but the whole point of making a getaway is TIME. I didn't want to be busted one foot up the stairs having to create a scene (even though I know I was well within my rights to do so).  I swear M was holding me back, physically restraining me by my shoulders, trying to talk to me about it in deep detail. Like dude, I AM GOING RIGHT THIS SECOND. GET OUT OF MY WAY!

I managed my getaway and naturally when walked into my apt., I was pissed off.  I slammed shit (it should be noted I accidentally flipped my birthday cake upside down on the cutting board as I was trying to sublimate my rage with food), I wanted to have a bitch session. I called out, "MIKE -- MIKE YOU UP?" and woke his ass up.

And I told him what had happened. To recap, 2 attempted drive by tongue-ings, a breast touch, an attempt for me to feel his "excitement" for me.  And that's just the physical stuff. I felt gross. I thought, "if this doesn't get a reaction from him, nothing will" and was hoping I could have a Comrade in Rage.  This is what I got:

"Jesus."

Okay, does anyone else think that reaction is a bit light? Now I'm irritated with Mike. So I go on, filling in a few more bits here and there. Nothing. I even press him, "Why aren't you more mad? Aren't you mad?"

Now I know everyone's reaction to we'll call it "disheartening info" is different. But this isn't me being pissed off about being cut off in traffic, or how my mother is driving me insane (which I give the out that guys can't win on this one no matter what they offer). However, THIS was about another guy groping me. And I know that the world isn't all bubble gum centered lollipops for chrissakes. I know that that jerks exist (and had I thought words would have registered with him, I would've laid into him) and I also know I'm a big girl and can take care of myself.  I also don't expect his to thump his chest, go over to E's house, defend my honor and beat the guy up.  But....c'mon, is it too much to ask that he at least EMOTE on this one?  At least give me sitting upright in bed and saying, "He did WHAT TO YOU?!"  I'd settle for a swear word.  Again, this is not me being pissed off over a parking ticket.  This definitely falls into his, I dunno, bailiwick.

To lie there, hearing me sighing pissed off sigh after pissed off sigh...clearly upset....

Okay, am off base here?  This is not about the night. That I can get over.  But does anyone else have this issue with their mate?  I wanted to feel like I was part of a team and I really felt alone on this one.

(I don't know how long this is staying up as I don't hold grudges (tho I am allowing Sunday for it), so don't be shocked if this gets pulled. Just curious what you folks gotta say on this one)

Who had 72 hours?

(Okay, this'll be quick because I am trying to be good at least for the first week of my new employ.)

So, who had 72 hours until I touched a co-worker's butt? A MALE co-worker (not that either scenario is particularly less awkward).

Granted this wasn't your true ass-grab but here was the deal:

Out at a dinner function last night, seated next to the other underwriter in my dept. (a guy my age).  I  need to get up to use the restroom, so he has to slide out of the booth to let me out. He's a pretty tall, big guy and the table is pinned pretty close to the seat, so as he's sliding out, I'm pulling myself along behind him. Due to the tight fit, he stumbles backwards. Onto my hand.

All I could say was, "I didn't do that on purpose, you know."

I'm sure it's just a matter of time for my meeting with HR.