This is how I was introduced by a coworker at our department’s quarterly meeting the other day:
Karim: Jessica, this is Jane. Jane works with travel in our Arlington office.
Jessica: Nice to meet you! [Shake hands]
Karim: Jane this is Jessica; Jessica has a weird sense of humor.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Putting my craziest foot forward
Marta: How did the date go?
Jessica: Good! It was fun- I think I like him.
Marta: Oh good! When are you seeing him again?
Jessica: Oh. Well. I mean, I’m not like 100% that I’ll be hearing from him…
Marta: What?! Why?
Jessica: Well… in one of my bouts of nervousness and self sabotage, with which you’re by now familiar, I may have been less than discerning in my selection of conversation topics…
Marta: Jessica… what did you do?
Jessica: What? Nothing! It’s just that in the moment, it seemed funny to talk about my brother’s racist comments and my feelings concerning the lack of women occupying significant roles in the Bible.
Marta: Ok, just tell me that you didn’t do the rant that climaxes when you pound your fist on the table and say “Fuck Ester!”
Jessica: [silence]
Marta: Jessica!
Jessica: Good! It was fun- I think I like him.
Marta: Oh good! When are you seeing him again?
Jessica: Oh. Well. I mean, I’m not like 100% that I’ll be hearing from him…
Marta: What?! Why?
Jessica: Well… in one of my bouts of nervousness and self sabotage, with which you’re by now familiar, I may have been less than discerning in my selection of conversation topics…
Marta: Jessica… what did you do?
Jessica: What? Nothing! It’s just that in the moment, it seemed funny to talk about my brother’s racist comments and my feelings concerning the lack of women occupying significant roles in the Bible.
Marta: Ok, just tell me that you didn’t do the rant that climaxes when you pound your fist on the table and say “Fuck Ester!”
Jessica: [silence]
Marta: Jessica!
Friday, March 19, 2010
A tribute to my [until-further-notice] life partner, Marta.
Why friendship with you rocks
1) Because you are always game to put biker/pirate/generally bad-ass temporary tattoos on your butt with me
2) Because you get the concept of “driving with your feelings” and that we always end up where we are supposed to
3) Because we cut down a tree in a strangers yard for our Christmas tree
4) Because you did not panic when the first night we had Oscar we made him foam at the mouth and bathed him in toilet water
5) Because you understand that the higher the pitch, the cuter we think something is
6) Because “you cannot begin to understand… the depths… of me…”
7) Because friends don’t let friends date men who are A)boring B)Douchey C)Cocky D)Don’t love Jesus
8) Because figure skating on TV can inspire us both to abandon our homework and our other roommates to sneak off to the Cheesecake factory in Boston at 10:00 at night
9) Because you know that Peanut Butter Jelly Time demands a response
10) Because you understand that my meltdowns about things like post-it notes or closet space are never about post-its or closet space.
11) Because you let me keep my paper fish for 6 years now
12) Because we will drive to Maine at midnight to get one 6-pack of beer
13) Because we have about the same tolerance for crowds/parties and some freakily aligned internal clocks that tell us to leave at the same time
14) Because Dance of the Dissident Daughter has rocked our world
15) Because you have shared my crush on Woody Allen and have also wondered what it would be like to kiss him
16) Because we are ambitious enough to consider running a marathon, but reasonable enough to go for the half-marathon
17) Because we both have shiny happy fits of rage… which occasionally involve throwing bras into a fit pit and shouting “IF GOD IS MALE THEN MALE IS GOD!”
1) Because you are always game to put biker/pirate/generally bad-ass temporary tattoos on your butt with me
2) Because you get the concept of “driving with your feelings” and that we always end up where we are supposed to
3) Because we cut down a tree in a strangers yard for our Christmas tree
4) Because you did not panic when the first night we had Oscar we made him foam at the mouth and bathed him in toilet water
5) Because you understand that the higher the pitch, the cuter we think something is
6) Because “you cannot begin to understand… the depths… of me…”
7) Because friends don’t let friends date men who are A)boring B)Douchey C)Cocky D)Don’t love Jesus
8) Because figure skating on TV can inspire us both to abandon our homework and our other roommates to sneak off to the Cheesecake factory in Boston at 10:00 at night
9) Because you know that Peanut Butter Jelly Time demands a response
10) Because you understand that my meltdowns about things like post-it notes or closet space are never about post-its or closet space.
11) Because you let me keep my paper fish for 6 years now
12) Because we will drive to Maine at midnight to get one 6-pack of beer
13) Because we have about the same tolerance for crowds/parties and some freakily aligned internal clocks that tell us to leave at the same time
14) Because Dance of the Dissident Daughter has rocked our world
15) Because you have shared my crush on Woody Allen and have also wondered what it would be like to kiss him
16) Because we are ambitious enough to consider running a marathon, but reasonable enough to go for the half-marathon
17) Because we both have shiny happy fits of rage… which occasionally involve throwing bras into a fit pit and shouting “IF GOD IS MALE THEN MALE IS GOD!”
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Semi-responsible pet ownership.
Let me tell you about the time I brought my cat to the butcher.
Oscar was getting overly male and in our house, we find that unacceptable so we began to look up neutering options. Marta’s priority was that it be cheap and, because Oscar has been driving me banana-sandwich lately by stealing my earrings and eating my food, my priority was that it be uncomfortable. (I’m KIDDING!)
Anyway. I called some places and it seemed like we weren’t getting out of this cheap. Vets are so pesky these days about making sure your animal has all kinds of shots and microchips and what not. Marta Googled “discount neutering” and found this place that basically functioned as a charity/vet. They were frustrating to get a hold of from the beginning. Marta had to keep calling them back because every time she got someone on the phone, they would sound distracted by some chaos in the background and would say to her “call back in a few minutes!” I saw this as a good sign that they would be inexpensive since they clearly didn’t charge the overhead to hire a fulltime secretary who wasn’t doubling as crowd control/anesthesiologist. And it WAS cheap! It was literally less than half the price of the other places. WITH SHOTS. Bargain hunting at its best.
Marta made the appointment and I agreed to take him because the place was in South Boston, thus closer to my work than hers. The morning of the event, I got out the cat carrier Marta had brought back from PA when she went home last. She had neglected to tell me that it was disgustingly filthy with some sort of soot all over the outside of it. I couldn’t use it like that because A) black stuff got all over me when I touched it and B) Oscar already wasn’t keen on the idea of getting in it and who could blame him and C) I was afraid of what the people at the vet would think. So there I am in my nice work clothes, running late, trying to scrub the carrier so that the discount cat neuterer wouldn’t judge me.
I had to all but dump Oscar in there too because he somehow knew that this was not his day. The poor guy cried the entire way there. I talked to him like he was my preschooler the whole time. It took me FOREVER to get there/ find the place too. By “South Boston” Marta meant Dorchester. I was driving down the NARROWEST alleyway –so narrow that I had to drive with my left tires up on the side walk to get around a car stopped on the right. I was on what my GPS said was my destination street thinking “surely not!” It looked like it was just back doors. But then, I saw a small white sign claiming to mark the spot. Out front was chubby man in a ratty looking sweatshirt smoking a cigarette. I guess he’s having his cat neutered too… I parked around the corner and carried my poor little kitten to the door. Apparently smoking guy worked there in some capacity. Awesome.
So I wait in there forEVER with all the other people with cat carriers and Oscar is shaking like a leaf. By this time, I am feeling pretty badly for him. The experience up to this point had to be enough punishment to compensate for all of the earrings he has carried off and that bag of my pita bread that he ate. I am about ready to call the whole thing off because I realize I don't hate him enough to leave him here when some guy wearing scrubs who has backhair spilling out the top walks up to me and says "Oscar?" He has some miscellaneous Eastern European accent. I consider looking at him blankly and pretending that I speak even less English than he does and then grabbing Oscar and making a run for it.
Instead I say “Yes. He’s right here.” I hate myself in this moment and I shoot Oscar telepathic messages that say “Look little buddy, I’m like 60% sure you’re going to be ok so just relax and be nice to the strange man. Plus, we wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t have to go and start humping household objects!” The strange man tells me that I also have to give Oscar a distemper shot and a rabies shot and worm pills. Sure whatever- is it still the same price we discussed?
I let the man take little Oscar in to the back and as he goes I shoot Oscar eyes that say I’M REALLY SORRY!
They tell me I can pick him up at 5:00. I guess you get what you pay for though because I called at 4:30, as instructed, and he hadn’t even been touched yet. He wasn’t ready to be picked up until almost 7:00. Marta picked him up and reported that he was “swaying like a drunken sailor.” There were stitches in the area of concern but now that he’s healed, neither of us are really convinced that they did anything because there has been really minimal behavior change.
So there is the most recent story of our semi-responsible pet ownership. He is alive but still a little bit too male for our liking.
Oscar was getting overly male and in our house, we find that unacceptable so we began to look up neutering options. Marta’s priority was that it be cheap and, because Oscar has been driving me banana-sandwich lately by stealing my earrings and eating my food, my priority was that it be uncomfortable. (I’m KIDDING!)
Anyway. I called some places and it seemed like we weren’t getting out of this cheap. Vets are so pesky these days about making sure your animal has all kinds of shots and microchips and what not. Marta Googled “discount neutering” and found this place that basically functioned as a charity/vet. They were frustrating to get a hold of from the beginning. Marta had to keep calling them back because every time she got someone on the phone, they would sound distracted by some chaos in the background and would say to her “call back in a few minutes!” I saw this as a good sign that they would be inexpensive since they clearly didn’t charge the overhead to hire a fulltime secretary who wasn’t doubling as crowd control/anesthesiologist. And it WAS cheap! It was literally less than half the price of the other places. WITH SHOTS. Bargain hunting at its best.
Marta made the appointment and I agreed to take him because the place was in South Boston, thus closer to my work than hers. The morning of the event, I got out the cat carrier Marta had brought back from PA when she went home last. She had neglected to tell me that it was disgustingly filthy with some sort of soot all over the outside of it. I couldn’t use it like that because A) black stuff got all over me when I touched it and B) Oscar already wasn’t keen on the idea of getting in it and who could blame him and C) I was afraid of what the people at the vet would think. So there I am in my nice work clothes, running late, trying to scrub the carrier so that the discount cat neuterer wouldn’t judge me.
I had to all but dump Oscar in there too because he somehow knew that this was not his day. The poor guy cried the entire way there. I talked to him like he was my preschooler the whole time. It took me FOREVER to get there/ find the place too. By “South Boston” Marta meant Dorchester. I was driving down the NARROWEST alleyway –so narrow that I had to drive with my left tires up on the side walk to get around a car stopped on the right. I was on what my GPS said was my destination street thinking “surely not!” It looked like it was just back doors. But then, I saw a small white sign claiming to mark the spot. Out front was chubby man in a ratty looking sweatshirt smoking a cigarette. I guess he’s having his cat neutered too… I parked around the corner and carried my poor little kitten to the door. Apparently smoking guy worked there in some capacity. Awesome.
So I wait in there forEVER with all the other people with cat carriers and Oscar is shaking like a leaf. By this time, I am feeling pretty badly for him. The experience up to this point had to be enough punishment to compensate for all of the earrings he has carried off and that bag of my pita bread that he ate. I am about ready to call the whole thing off because I realize I don't hate him enough to leave him here when some guy wearing scrubs who has backhair spilling out the top walks up to me and says "Oscar?" He has some miscellaneous Eastern European accent. I consider looking at him blankly and pretending that I speak even less English than he does and then grabbing Oscar and making a run for it.
Instead I say “Yes. He’s right here.” I hate myself in this moment and I shoot Oscar telepathic messages that say “Look little buddy, I’m like 60% sure you’re going to be ok so just relax and be nice to the strange man. Plus, we wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t have to go and start humping household objects!” The strange man tells me that I also have to give Oscar a distemper shot and a rabies shot and worm pills. Sure whatever- is it still the same price we discussed?
I let the man take little Oscar in to the back and as he goes I shoot Oscar eyes that say I’M REALLY SORRY!
They tell me I can pick him up at 5:00. I guess you get what you pay for though because I called at 4:30, as instructed, and he hadn’t even been touched yet. He wasn’t ready to be picked up until almost 7:00. Marta picked him up and reported that he was “swaying like a drunken sailor.” There were stitches in the area of concern but now that he’s healed, neither of us are really convinced that they did anything because there has been really minimal behavior change.
So there is the most recent story of our semi-responsible pet ownership. He is alive but still a little bit too male for our liking.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Beards
Me : Oh man. Can we talk about how sexy men with beards are?
Marta : Yeah. Well wait. We need to narrow the parameters. Do you realize how many Islamic extremists you just opened us up to?
Friday, March 12, 2010
Guilt
For the second time this week, I got home to find an empty ice cream carton that, when I left for work in the morning, had been full of "community" ice cream. Marta was nowhere to be found, but I found the following notes on my pillow.
In case you can't read them, they say "I'm a monster" "I admit it" "Please don't judge me" and "I was stressed"
In case you can't read them, they say "I'm a monster" "I admit it" "Please don't judge me" and "I was stressed"
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