tangentwoman

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Scattered thoughts on a Thursday

I am all kinds of random this week. Not that that's a huge departure from the norm, but super-random. And I think Minnams and I are feeding off each other; yesterday morning, we had a ten-minute discussion about the story arcs of Dawson's Creek and Felicity, appropos of pretty much nothing. I don't seem to be able to form a coherent thought this week, so some scattered thoughts:

-- I showed up to my knitting class on Monday night to discover that too few people had signed up and they were postponing the session until November. Which is a drag, and I can't even do the November session because of work travel conflicts, so who knows when I'll actually start learning to knit. And I totally jumped the gun by crossing it off my list before officially completing it.

-- On Sunday, my sister had a family gathering to celebrate the August/September birthdays of my niece and nephews. It was a whole lot of family this weekend, but it was good to see the kids. My sister organized a three-legged race, which was hilarious. My other sister and her husband were ridiculously competitive, doing practice runs all around the yard, when the competition was limited to: (1) our five-year-old nephew tethered to his three-year-old brother; (2) our sister-in-law tied to her five-year-old son and (3) a pair of seven-year-old girls who'd never done a three-legged race. So the practicing and the gloating were really a little misplaced, it seemed, but it cracked me up.

-- I am disproportionately sad about the death of Anna Nicole Smith's son, disproportionately delighted that Whitney and Bobby are getting divorced (I'm especially looking forward to the coverage on The Soup tomorrow night), and completely uninterested in Britney's new baby.

-- I can't believe that Buckwild left Flavor of Love. I'm so done watching that show.

-- I can't believe I keep getting sucked into Dancing With the Stars, to the extent that my heart actually pounds during the elimination announcements. What is wrong with me? I'm not even particularly rooting for any of the contestants.

-- Last thought for the moment on the new fall TV season: I am still loving my Ellen, but not so psyched that she dances for like five seconds before heading into the first commercial break. I almost always fast-forwarded through a portion of the dancing, but I liked the order of the opening segments much better in earlier seasons. Not a deal-breaker, but between losing DJ Tony, changing up the theme song and messing with the format, I'm not quite as smitten this season.

-- The leftover ice cream cake from my birthday party gets better every single day. I will be so sad when it's all gone.

Wow. I really am sort of brain dead, huh? This entry makes me sound completely vapid. I'm hopeful that it'll be short-lived.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Best Week Ever

Okay, so this entry might be a bit premature, because I have high hopes for this lovely Saturday sunshine, and our night out in Philly, but from a visit to the beach on Sunday through my surprise birthday party last night, it's been a darn good week.

Yes, the Smelmooo threw me a surprise party, in our house, no less. I've never been the guest of honor at a surprise party before (well, my bridal shower, I guess, but somehow that seems like an obligatory surprise party), and I think I've kind of always wanted one. And maybe I'd have expected something next year for the big 3-0, but a party for my 29th seems less obvious.

My whole immediate family was there -- no kids, but I'm seeing all the nieces and nephews tomorrow -- along with most of my in-laws, a couple of neighbors and lots of good friends. Some of the friends who couldn't make it I get to see tonight in Philly; others I really missed, and I'm a little insulted that they ponied up such lame excuses: "I live in Africa," or, "I just got out of the hospital on Wednesday."

They brought beautiful cards and tons of presents, which always make me a little embarrassed. I don't know why, but I have trouble with gifts; I opened most of them after people had left, although Minnams made me open her gorgeous silver necklace while she was still there, because she likes for me to be well-accessorized (I was wearing one of the bracelets she gave me for my 28th yesterday, and no fewer than 15 people complimented me on it throughout the course of the day).

And even though I ate and ate and ate and ate at dinner with my sister and brother-in-law before I got home last night, I so enjoyed my Carvel ice cream cake and the ridiculously yummy brownie-cupcakes-with-a-Reeses-peanut-butter-cup-surprise-in-the-middle that Shari made. So all in all, an amazing night, and I'm still sort of startled by how wonderful my hubby is, and how generous and lovely my friends and family are, and it's making me feel all warm and squishy. And, Tucker was super-good through the whole thing -- he made us proud by being so well-behaved and cute.

It's been a stressful week, too, with lots of upheaval at work, but I think it'll be good in the end. I'm going to be moving into a new job -- same place, still, after all these years, but they keep giving me new and interesting challenges that keep me there -- that'll be exciting if a little scary (I keep thinking I've been getting by by faking it all these years, and I'll finally be found out as I move up the ladder), and now that it's settled that I'm doing it, I feel okay.

So, a Stuart Smalley kind of week: I'm good enough; I'm smart enough; and, gosh-darn it, people like me!

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Time won't stand by forever

When I was in high school, I loved the song "29" by the Gin Blossoms, for some reason. My best friend at the time had the CD, and I'd asked her to include it on a mix tape she was making for me, but she didn't, and I was super pissed. I was kind of a bratty adolescent, now that I think of it.

Anyway, today I turned 29, which is for some reason a little tricky for me. I guess I feel as though there's a lot of pressure to get stuff done before I turn 30, and now the clock is really ticking. And it's also sort of been hitting me that life is short.

So today, rather than go to work and attend a bunch of meetings that I really probably shouldn't have missed, I spent the day with my mom, bookended by quality time with the Smelmooo and Tucker, and I wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

The Smelmooo, Tucker and I stayed up until midnight so I could open my presents, and they both gave me beautiful birthday cards.

Today, my mom and I went into the city to see Martin Short's new show, Fame Becomes Me, which was pretty good. My favorite part was when he was in character as Jiminy Glick and brought up an audience member (this afternoon, a guy named Herb) and did an improv segment with him. There was also a song called (or that should've been called) "Big Titties," which the Smelmooo would've loved, but during which I could not make eye contact with my mother.

We tried to go to lunch at this French restaurant where the Smelmooo and I had gone with Seth and Leslie (happy healing, Seth! We're thinking of you!!), only to find that it's being gutted for renovation. I think I have been tapped with some kind of restaurant-closing curse. So instead, we went to John's Pizza, where I'd never been and which I found to be super-yummy.

We walked around the city; we chatted on the train; we just had a lovely, easy day together.

And I came home to find that the Smelmooo had put our new coffee table together, and we ate extraordinary Thai food for dinner, followed by Carvel.

And it was absolutely perfect. Tucker is hanging out at our feet, the Smelmooo and I are catching up on The Closer, and life is awfully good.

When I first heard the Gin Blossoms song, I don't think I could've even fathomed what 29 would feel like, where I'd be. Probably I thought I'd be married with a handful of kids, maybe I'd be an English teacher, but mostly I just thought I'd be old.

But today, I don't feel old -- I just feel lucky, and loved, and incredibly happy.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Elephant Goo

The Smelmooo and I have friends who pointed out that if you mouth the phrase, "Elephant goo," it looks as though you're saying, "I love you," which can really freak someone out.

This morning, my allergies started acting up during an all-staff meeting, so I asked a co-worker two seats away if I could have a tissue.

To which he replied, "Oh, I missed you, too!"

The Tangent/Smelmooo crime scene

I rarely read the NJ newspaper during the week, but I almost always read it cover-to-cover on the weekends. Yesterday, there was a big story about this bizarre shooting in Newark (that part is not so surprising), which took place at this middle-aged woman's apartment. It was apparently drug-related (also not surprising), but the woman was this white, blonde-haired equestrian, and the other people in the apartment were African-American teenagers, apparently good kids.

They still didn't seem to have many answers when the story went to press, and I haven't looked it up to read more, so the reporter was really trying to demonstrate how atypical this shooting was. Yes, friends and co-workers and the ex-husband all described the woman as a little odd, and having gotten into drugs, and neighbors said that it was pretty clear she was dealing from her apartment. But, the article pointed out, the apartment was well-decorated, with fluffy pillows (which, to me, evoked 13 Going on 30 -- "I need a big fluffy pillow!!"), and there was pomegranate juice in the fridge, and Garnier Nutrisse products in the bathroom. So, clearly, not your typical drug dealer.

So I of course started thinking about how the article would read if there were a fatal crime in our house (I think part of this is that I've been watching too many episodes of The Closer back-to-back). And, really? They would not be surprised. Well, actually, right now, we have watermelon in the fridge and a handful of green apples, which I guess would speak well of us, but in general? Officers would find in our kitchen: Diet Coke, beer, ice cream, cheese, English muffins, fixings for Rice Krispies Treats, cereal, and dog food. In our bathroom, they would find almost exclusively generic products, except for my Venus razor and hotel-brand soaps and mini-shampoos.

In other words, nothing to suggest that it'd be in any way unusual that a heinous crime would play out in our home.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Love of the mundane

Despite the weather being so crappy, I've been so excited to have a four-day weekend. My office was closed yesterday, but most people were working, so it was a nice opportunity to attend to a whole boatload of things I'd let slip: I finally went to the credit union to stave off these notices I've been getting threatening to turn all my money over to the state because of inactivity on the account; I renewed my driver's license; I went to the jeweler to get a watch battery and get my rings all sparkly and shiny. Such completely boring stuff that made me inordinately happy. I really like being able to cross things off my mental list and to feel as though I've restored some degree of order to my life.

I am fascinated by the Motor Vehicle office. I went in all prepared with my renewal form completed, six points of identification and $24. I'd never been to this particular office before, but they're all remarkably similar: harsh lighting, uncomfortable chairs, a faint cover of dankness, oodles of disgruntled people, a couple of vending machines. But the system was actually fairly efficient, at least for license renewals (the line for driving tests seemed unwieldy, though, and fairly disorganized); I waited less than 30 seconds for the triage person at the receptionists' desk to direct me to a woman with a laptop, who checked me in and told me to wait to be called. I got about a paragraph into an article in the New Yorker I thought I'd have time to read cover-to-cover when they called my number. I spent another minute at the window where I paid, had my photo taken at the same window, and read about another three paragraphs before I had new license in hand. Literally, like seven minutes, all told.

I'd stopped wearing a watch probably for the last year, first because the clasp wasn't functioning properly and second because the battery ran down. Last weekend, I found a little hole-in-the-wall clock shop where the guy behind the counter fixed the clasp in about a minute and wouldn't let me pay him for it, but I for some reason felt guilty asking him for a battery, as well (when we went into the store, he was tinkering with a bunch of clocks, and although he would probably have been able to do the battery, I for some reason felt it'd be an imposition for me to ask. I know -- I'm a total weirdo).

So yesterday, I headed up to our family jeweler (that sounds kind of dirty, I know), because I'm supposed to get my engagement ring checked out every now and again to make sure the stones are secure, and also because my rings were filthy and dull from our trip to the beach, and the cleaning stuff I have at home just does not have the same miraculous effect as whatever the jeweler uses. He also hooked me up with a new watch battery (also free, which he doesn't need to do to keep me loyal, but I appreciate it) while I admired all of the sparkly estate jewelry.

Before heading home to my hubby for Akeelah and the Bee (waaaaaaaay better than Bee Season, and I totally cried) and dinner at Red Robin, I stopped at my sister's to drop off my karaoke machine for my niece's birthday party next week (to which I, fortunately, was not invited. I love my niece, but an evening with seven eight-year-olds doing karaoke would definitely put me over the edge).

I don't think I was quite prepared for the afternoon at my sister's. The three kids (the boys are 3 and 5, and my niece will be 8 in a couple of weeks) were just stir-crazy, I guess, with all of this yucky weather, and my poor, endlessly patient sister looked exhausted.

"So...school starts next week, huh?" I ventured.
"Oh, I can't WAIT for them to go back to school!" she admitted, seeming at once ashamed and relieved to have said it out loud.

Both my niece and my nephew -- who'll start kindergarten -- are feeling a little stressed about going back to school, and the anxiety is manifesting itself as regression. There's whining, baby talk, stubborness, feigned helplessness; there's pinching and refusal to share and general willfulness. There were a lot of threats: "Try that one more time, and Aunt Tangent's leaving and taking the karaoke machine with her."

It was gray outside but not actively raining, so we went out to play and everyone actually benefited from the change of scenery. We all played some wiffle ball -- the five-year-old is actually a really good athlete, and all of his bad behavior vanished once he had a chance to run around -- and my niece and I did cartwheels on the lawn (I couldn't believe I can still do a cartwheel, but it actually came back pretty naturally) while the boys took turns riding a bike and a scooter around the driveway. I had a really fun time with them, although I was definitely ready to hit the road after a couple of hours.

And boy, for my sister's sake, do I hope the weather improves before school starts next week.

Friday, September 01, 2006

I think I found it!

Abby is the only person who was any help at all in my quest to identify that childhood toy (one that I never had but always coveted). And I'm pretty sure it's the Roller Racer I was thinking of.

Thanks, Abby! Your alliterative suggestions triggered something in my brain that made me think it was a double-R name.