Archive Page 2

These Boots are Made for Whining

My Inner Monologue

I should probably buy a pair of boots. It’s gonna be fall soon so they’re starting to pop up in stores.  And I’ve been waiting  forever to get a particular kind.

You really shouldn’t be spending money.

But I saw some that were on sale!

A) You still can’t really afford them and B) They were probably on sale because they’re cheap crap that’s gonna fall apart real fast and then what?

But I’d have boots now… This is future me’s problem.

This is a bad plan. No. Future me needs to pay her loans.

But they’re cute! And… I’d wear them to work so they’re pretty much an investment.

You just got a pair of boots to wear to work, you don’t need another.

But those boots are grayish. I don’t have a pair of short dark brown boots. My wardrobe needs this.

You have two pairs of short dark brown boots.

True…technically… But one of them is too casual to wear to work and the other is fuzzy and warm on the inside and is only for winter.

How many boots could you actually possibly need?

One, two…three… wait do rain boots count? They serve a totally different purpose but I clearly need them.

I can’t even deal with you right now.

It’s not like you have a choice on that…

I think the solution is clearly that we just need to get the boots.

No. Don’t you realize how horribly guilty you’ll feel afterwards knowing that you spent money you shouldn’t have?

Or will I just feel happy because my boots are super adorable.

You tried them on yesterday and they didn’t even feel that good.

But they didn’t feel bad either. They fit well. Throw a little Doctor Scholls in there and it’ll be super comfy.

You realize that would make it cost even more money.

Technically yes but….

But what? You don’t even have anything.

Shhhhhh, I’m thinking. They’ed look really great at the Renaissance Faire.

You’re not even going to the Renaissance Faire because you can’t afford that either.

STOP KILLING ALL MY DREAMS!

Will you just leave it? You can’t have the boots.

But I want them.

Sucks doesn’t it?

Balls.

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Peanut Butter Problems

Something terrible has happened. Something really, really terrible. I’m not sure if I’ll ever recover. Ok, so maybe I’m being slightly dramatic. But only slightly. If you really want to know what happened we’re going to have to go back to the beginning.

It started months ago when I was at the grocery store. I browsed the shelves carefully picking out the sundries on my list which, this trip, included peanut butter.  I plopped a jar in my basket and carried on with my shopping. It was only after I got home that I discovered that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. As I reached to put the jar of peanuty-goodness on my shelf I noticed something amiss with the label. Upon closer inspection my darkest fears were realized. The peanut butter was CRUNCHY. Now I’ll admit that every so often when the planets are properly aligned I can enjoy a little bit of crunchy peanut butter but at no point have I ever had the desire to consume an entire jar of the stuff. In general I don’t like thingys in my orange juice, I don’t like walnuts in my brownies and I do not like crunchy in my peanut butter.

“How could this have happened?” I wondered to myself. I never make mistakes like this. I’m a really careful food shopper, when I was a teenager I would be sent to chaperone my older step-brother on food shopping trips because everyone knew I DON’T MAKE THESE KINDS OF MISTAKES.* I suppose even the best must make mistakes sometimes and now I had to pay for mine. I’m on a budget these days and even if I wasn’t I really hate wastefulness. I knew that if I went out and bought new creamy peanut butter that no one would eat the crunchy and it would sit there being wasted and junking up my shelves. Probably forever.  And so, surrendering to my circumstances, I made a vow; I would finish that damn peanut butter.

Days became weeks, weeks became months, fall became winter and finally spring. I ate the peanut butter but I ate it slowly. But finally, with summer on the way and the threat of unsatisfactory picnic sandwiches looming, I did it. I finished the jar. With a smile on my face I a scraped the last usable bits from the edges.  It was over. I was free. I was wrong.

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Happy Corinne. Mission accomplished.

A few days later I found myself once again in the grocery store. After filling my basket with supplies for dinner I made my way to the peanut butter isle and grabbed a jar. I hesitated for just a moment before placing it in my basket. Something didn’t feel quite right. Slowly I turned the jar around and low and behold it was once again crunchy. How could this be? I could have sworn I was looking at the word “creamy” when I picked it up. Cautiously I placed it back on the shelf and picked up a jar with a different color label that definitely said “creamy” on it. Sure I had dodged a bullet I headed to the register confident that things were looking up.

I noticed it while I was putting the groceries away. While the jar I had brought home did say “creamy” it was not regular peanut butter, it was coconut & peanut spread. I was worried, I’ve never really been a fan of coconut. I can tolerate or even enjoy it sometimes but those are usually few and far between. Maybe I’d like it. Maybe I wouldn’t even taste the coconut.  There was only one way to find out.

So the next day, needing to grab a quick bite before catching a train, I quickly whipped up a peanut butter (well, technically peanut coconut & spread) and jelly sandwich. I took a bite. At first it was Ok. And then it wasn’t. A very strong coconut flavor filled my mouth. Way too strong. It tasted awful. There was no way I could finish this sandwich let alone an entire jar. I had Luke try it and he didn’t like it either. I was devastated.

Yucky.

Yucky.

That day I left to catch my train unsure of what I was going to do. After months of sticking to my guns and forcing my way through the crunchy, I was back to where I started. Only worse. I knew I couldn’t go on like this. A few days later I broke down and bought a new jar of regular creamy peanut butter. It’s delicious. I suppose things are better now, my sandwiches sure are, but that dammed jar of coconut and peanut spread still sits in my cupboard as a reminder of my failure. I’m pretty sure it’s mocking me.

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#firstworldproblems

 

 

*In all fairness to my brother I should also mention that this was not the only reason I went with him. It was also to translate my mom’s grocery lists since I’m probably the only one who really knows how to read them.  For example, she might write “paper towels” but that means a specific brand of paper towels and GOD FORBID you come home with the ones with stuff printed on them.

Quotes From My Notebooks

When I was in college I was a very good student and consequently took a LOT of notes. I also had extra space in the notebooks after I graduated so I continued to use them for other things. Of course, being me, they have there own special style. I started looking back on some of them recently and found it amusing so I decided to share. The following are actual quotes from my notebooks.

 

“Is it a symbol setting fire to the curtains?”

 

“Nunneries

  • Get rid of your daughter so you don’t have to pay dowry”

 

“3:34pm Well that didn’t go far. Risky too risky. I have things to do. It is bitter cold outside. Thank goodness for my moose hat.”

 

“Syphilis Shows Up

  • got it from the new world
  • steam baths of mercury, that’s good” 

 

“Today show stripy shirt lady hello at beginning X” 

 

“Shit continues to go downhill for Rome”

 

“4:34pm Production class. Going over menus. Brain melting.”

 

“2. Geryon monster of fraud –> cool sounding big flying monster, interesting imagery.”

 

 

The Grandma Express

In my family information travels fast. I mean really fast. FTL fast. People say that in modern times Facebook has accelerated the speed at which we get information about our friends and loved ones but Facebook has NOTHING on my Grandma.  I’ve tried to explain this to people who are not related to me and most of the time they don’t understand. So instead of explaining I’ll just give an example.  

My birthday was last Wednesday. I got a call that afternoon from my Grandma Bev who, as is her tradition, sang me “Happy Birthday” over the phone.  I chatted with her and my Grandpa for a few minutes and then went on about my day. (And by that I mean I went back to sitting on the couch reading while wearing my best pair of yoga pants because it was my birthday and sometimes a girl’s gotta party.) Not five minutes after I had hung up the phone it rang again. This time it was my mom. Now it’s important to note that at this point that my mom had already called me to say happy birthday earlier in the day. I answered the phone and she told me that she had just gotten off the phone with my Grandma who had called her to tell her that she had just called me. Now my mom was calling me to tell me that my Grandma had called her to tell her that she had just called me. 

This is just a small example and since it was only my birthday only three people were involved in the phone cycle but if something BIG happens it gets much larger.  If there’s news, good or bad, you can always count on my family to make sure everyone knows in under an hour. So If you’re a friend of mine and I’ve ever told you to keep something on the down low for a few days because I wasn’t ready for EVERYONE to know yet, now you get why.

That Time I Totally Didn’t Get Axe-Murdered

Towards the end of the summer, I spent a long weekend house/dog/cat sitting for my parents in New Jersey. It was a pretty sweet gig because they have a pool, a hot tub, HBO and seven very snuggly animal friends.  Also they give me money.

Luke came down for the first two days, but as I drove him to the train station on Sunday night I realized that this would be the first time I had spent the night in this house entirely alone.  I’ve housesat there before but usually my younger brother was home.  Now, I should mention that I’m not typically scared of being home by myself, I do it in my apartment all the time.  But my parents’ house is in the woods.  It’s not super isolated but it does get very dark and just a wee bit creepy at night.

A few hours later I let the dogs out for the last time for the night before heading upstairs with the animals to get ready for bed. I turned on the shower and as I was waiting for the water to warm up I realized I couldn’t remember if I had locked the back door after I let the dogs in. I scampered downstairs to check.  When I got there I discovered that not only had I neglected to lock the back door, but also the garage door and the front door. I quickly remedied this and hurried back upstairs before I wasted too much shower water.

As I got stepped into the shower I had another thought, “The killer was already inside the house… This is how I die!”

Fortunately, I didn’t get murdered but it was probably among the top 10 fastest showers of my lifetime.  Really I was never in any danger though, not with these brave champions guarding the bedroom.

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Actually, they were asleep the whole time. If there had been an actual intruder one would have hid and the other would have probably requested snuggles instead of barking to warn me.

It’s On The List

This morning I emptied the dishwasher while I was making my breakfast.  Then I got sad.  I was sad because I realized that I hadn’t updated my to-do list for the day yet which meant that “empty the dishwasher” wasn’t on it yet. And if it wasn’t on the list I couldn’t check it off and if I couldn’t check it off it’s like IT NEVER EVEN HAPPENED! The whole point of doing chores is to check them off! I considered putting it on the list just to check it off but it wouldn’t be the same.

So I sat down to update my list anyway since it needed to be done and when I pulled it up on my phone something amazing happened. “Dishes” was already on the list!  I had written it there yesterday but Luke emptied and loaded the dishwasher last night so I never checked it off.  Since it didn’t specify what about the “dishes” needed to be done I figured it would count.  With a smile on my face I happily poked that little box and watched the check-mark appear. It was the happiest moment of my day.

I am ORGANIZED

On my resume it states that I am organized. This is a true statement. I am ORGANIZED. The trouble is, I don’t think people take that statement seriously. Everyone and their brother says they’re organized but most people are lying or at the very least exaggerating. I however, can present evidence of my organizational prowess and that that is what I intend to do today.

Exhibit A: The DVDs

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Note: Please don’t judge me by what movies we own as these are not only my DVDs but Luke’s as well.

These are alphabetized and neatly placed in the shelving unit next to the TV. I’m not gonna lie, sometimes the most exciting part of getting a new DVD is to find its proper place on the shelf.  Trust and believe  that if anyone puts a disc away in the wrong place I will notice, fix it and the offending party will be given a dirty look.

Exhibit B: The Dresser

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I store all my shirts like this so that I can always see everything I have and I don’t mess up the folding by pulling out one shirt like I would if they were in piles.  And yes, there is more than one Battlestar Galactica shirt in there.

Exhibit C: Earrings

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This jewelry box contains all of my earrings.

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They are sorted out by color so I can always easily find what I’m looking for.  This was one of the first things I set up when I moved into my current apartment because I was so excited to finally have room for it.*

Exhibit D: My Calendar

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I use Google Calendar to organize all of my personal, professional and family events.  I also use it to keep track of Luke’s schedule because I’m nice like that.  It is color-coded based on category and sometimes I stare at it just because it makes me happy.

Exhibit E: The To Do List

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This is always on my phone with whatever I need to get done on any given day. I usually update it soon after I get up and check things off throughout the day as I get them done and gleefully watch the completed tasks disappear from the list.

Just in case you were thinking that I’m not always this organized and I just set everything up for my silly blog post allow me to present…

Exhibit F: The Old Agenda

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This an agenda that I used to keep track of my homework in high-school. According to the date this was from 2005 meaning I was 15. Notice how each class has been given a color and a hi-lighted section to write homework in.

With that I think I have sufficiently proven that when I say I’m organized I really mean it. I rest my case.

*”Wait a minute,” you’re thinking, “that isn’t very big, there’s no way your previous apartment was so small you didn’t have room for that.” Clearly you’ve never lived in Manhattan.


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