Now Playing -
The Beatles Marathon on WCBS - thanks chai!!
Now Eating -
nothing, but someone is cooking steak in our building.
Now Feeling -
not bad.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
Looka me, all back from the dead. I just haven't had the energy to write, and it's been annoying at work lately. How rare, how strange.
Ladies, if you�re planning to kill your husband, you might consider taking out the large life insurance policy before making the attempt.
I�m just sayin'.
See, it snowed a bit a couple of weekends ago, and Huz was out for 1� hours that Sunday shoveling out the cars. In return, I cleaned the bathtub. He got the raw end of the deal, especially afterwards when he went to take a shower and instead took a rather spectacular fall on the not-quite-re-suctioned-down tub mat. This after a day spent discussing how I was always considered the "flighty, artsy" one in my family, and my brother (his own issues aside) was the "responsible" one, and how Huz has now taken on that mantle. No truer words were e'er spoke.
So he cut and bruised his foot, and wrenched his back and one hamstring. The family jewels emerged intact; a minor miracle considering it was one of those "one foot in tub, one without" kinda falls. He forgives me. Another minor miracle. But I owe him big time.
But really, no forethought whatsoever in not taking out the million dollar insurance policy. Because while they always suspect the husband (as I keep telling him), who would ever suspect innocent little me?
Shut up. I heard that.
So, after *mumbelmumblemumble* (okay, let's just say "entirely too long" and leave it at that), I got my ass back to the gym last week. Once. Yeah, ow redux. So the day after, I celebrated with an Angus Bacon Cheeseburger from Burger King. Because I am brilliant that way. Hey, my cholesterol and blood pressure rawk; so what if the burger goes right to my ass, so long as it�s not going right to my carotid artery! No, no, wrong, bad thinking! Bad Mel � no burger! Actually it wasn't all that worth it � the burger was okay, but the onion breath for the rest of the day was not.
Since we last met, I had my thyroid checked out, as my doctor said one of my hormone levels was a bit high. Coincidentally, not a week later the blasted gland started feeling swollen and slightly tender. But after a checkup with my endocrinologist and a sonogram at the radiologist�s fancy-schmancy new office, I have once again been pronounced benignly normal, now-abated swollen tenderness bedamned.
And now, since I've been entirely too uninspired in the writing department, a couple of memes, stolen from
irisheyes70 and
cosmic crayola respectively, via
purple chai. ('Cause she rocks that way.)
Using Mapquest, how many miles is it from your house to your parents' house?
Mapquest says 16.26 miles using some very dumbass circuitous route.
Google your first and last name, in quotes. How many results were found?
Married name: about 705, of which less than a dozen are me. In my other lives, I'm a financial advisor and a travel agent. Maiden name: about 47, only one of which is not me.
What room in your house is too small?
The kitchen.
What room is too large?
Not a one.
Name of your third grade teacher:
Mrs. Halston (who was a doll) left on maternity leave fairly early on, and then we had Mrs. Barbieri, who was rather mean but liked me, so I can't really complain. And many years later, Mrs. Barbieri's son Chris was an upperclassman in my high school, and very easy on the eyes.
How much money did you make at your first job?
Probably less than $200. I did inventory for a few weeks in the "window treatments" (though this was well before they were calling them that) section of Abraham & Strauss' department store one summer in high school.
Favorite donut:
Dunkin' Donuts glazed.
Name(s) of your next door neighbor(s):
Teddy. At least I think he's still there�we never see him.
Genre of music you can't stand:
Hard-core rap (where women are all bitches, hos, etc.), and hard-core country (my wife, my dog, and my truck all done up and left me).
Last thing bid on on ebay:
A vintage atomic red Fiestaware ashtray. Our apartment is now radioactive!
How much cash is in your wallet:
$20 exactly, because I threw all my change in the tip jar at Starbucks on Thursday night.
A - Accent: I'd like to think none, though I can get (consciously) very Lawn Guyland when necessary.
B - Breast size: 36A-ish.
C - Chore you hate: Cleaning the bathroom.
D - Dad's name: Stanley.
E - Essential make-up item: Face powder.
F - Favorite perfume: Dolce et Gabbana.
G - Gold or silver: Both! Or white gold, the best of both worlds!
H - Hometown: Born in Plant City, FL.
I - Insomnia: Frequently.
J - Job title: Secretary
K - Kids: None that I know of�.
L - Living arrangements: Me, The Huz, and Phil O'Dendron.
M - Mum's birthplace: Bronx, New York.
N - Number of apples you've eaten: Not enough.
O - Overnight hospital stays: Five.
P - Phobia: Being buried alive or drowning.
R - Religious affiliation: Secular Judaism?
S - Siblings: 1 brother, four years younger.
T - Time you wake up: 7-ish on weekdays, and as late as I can on weekends.
U - Unnatural hair colors you've worn: One unfortunate temporary experience in college left me Raggedy Ann RED for a while.
V - Vegetable you refuse to eat: Brussel sprouts are kinda scary-looking � like tomatillos (which I like) without the fun.
W- Worst habit: Procrastination.
X - X-rays: Head, ankle, kidneys, plus a brain MRI. Those are the ones I can remember.
Y - Yummy foods you make: Vodka sauce, crabmeat dip, chili, black bean and corn salad.
Z - Zodiac sign: Pisces.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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