Check out my new blog, with fresh content today about Fox’s “More To Love” fat dating show.
As some of you have already noticed (and commented, yay thanks!), I have moved to my own domain! This, of course, has me cracking jokes to myself about being the master of my domain way too often for it to be amusing to anyone but me.
But anywho, check me out: http://www.bookishpenguin.com
My friend John is working on a custom header for me and I can’t wait to see what he comes up with. I made a joke about having a seasonal header and he didn’t even laugh! He was like, “Well, sure, we could do that!” Uhh, wow, how nice! But for now I think I’m going to start with an all-purpose header.
So why do this? Well, I’ve been having this nagging fear that someone was going to snatch the domain up and I’d have to come up with a new moniker (and this one was already hard enough to come up with and I’ve grown super, super attached to it). Also, writing this blog for the past half year has REALLY gotten the writer in me back up and running. I had a gut feeling (literally, in my gut) that I missed writing… I just didn’t let myself realize HOW much because I was 1 – probably lazy and 2 – probably worried about sucking or failing.
Well, sucking, failing, and laziness be damned. I don’t know what will become of my little blog – if it’ll ever be more than a catch-all for my own interests, opinions, and obsessions, but I do love it. I really do.
So pleeeease, please, please, please follow me on over there, okay? Bookmark the site or add it to your Google Reader (have I mentioned how much I loooooove Google Reader???).
Oh, and for those who asked if it was hard to move over. Nope, not at all. I am far from a techie whiz (that’s the hubby) and I did this all by myself (yay, big girl, clap hands). I’m using SquareSpace for the platform and GoDaddy for the domain. I even imported all my WordPress entries (they’re under the “The Wayback Machine” link on the new site).
So please check me out: http://www.bookishpenguin.com. (Once John creates my banner and a matching button, I’m totally going to put up a link button, yay.)
This week I have had the responsibility of attending both a wedding and a wake, big events in the life cycle (right up there with birth). At both of these events, as much as I tried to just be in the moment, I couldn’t help but ponder people’s sartorial choices.
Really? White? At a wedding?
Really? White? At a wake?
I know we live in a time where people wear jeans to the opera. I’ve worn jeans to Broadways shows. College students wear pajamas to class. Starlets go without underwear. People buy expensive or fancy or just nice-looking sandals, and then let their crusty, unkempt toes hang out for all to see.
I’m not a body-hair lunatic. If you’re a woman and you’re rocking a moustache and you don’t care about it, that’s fine – you go on with your bad Frida Kahlo self. But I think you should be required to make a bit of an effort with the hair on top of your head if you are attending a wedding. At a funeral or wake, you are grieving and I do not expect you to put extraordinary effort into your hair, although I do expect you to be in dark and respectful clothing.
Witnessed this week:
- a guest wearing a white dress at a wedding (not partially white, not a pattern with white in it – a fully white sundress, seriously)
- boobs out for all the world to see – I understand you’re young and beautiful and single and at a wedding, but it was very, very difficult for me to carry on a conversation with my husband because I (*I* – not him!) couldn’t help but stare at your boobs; they’re a beautiful work of nature, to be sure, but could you at least sit up straight?
- a casual Friday work outfit at a wedding where most people were in cocktail attire
- a flouncy miniskirt with no leggings, at a funeral
- leggings but no skirt, same funeral
- v-neck shirts at the funeral that would have only just been appropriate for the wedding
I could go on, but that’s a fair enough sampling. I’m not an etiquette lunatic (although, full disclosure: I do own the 900 page Emily Post etiquette book), but I am a big fan and proponent of decorum. There are certain times in life when certain sartorial choices are necessary; weddings and funerals are two big ones.
Yes, we are undergoing the great casualization of America and I love my jeans and sneakers as much as the next person, but the situation must warrant the pairing. Be respectful of the situation. If you have kids, let them know that the skirt is too short for a wake or that they really should button one more button on their shirt. If your dress really needs you to put on some Spanx, then put them on.
It’s a bit overwhelming to contemplate a marriage and a death in the span of a few days and I apologize for concentrating on this part of it for now, but I do think it’s important. This way, when you get there, you and the other guests can simply focus on the event at hand and celebrate life and love.
I started out yesterday not quite as bummed as I was Monday night, but still below the water line, so to speak. The day progressed adequately and soon day became night. I left work, hurried through Trader Joe’s to pick up a few fresh items for dinner, rushed home, made a salsa and put it in the fridge so it could chill and the flavors could meld, went to the laundromat, washed and dried the clothes the hubby and I need to attend our friend’s brother’s wake tonight, and dashed back home to make dinner (Tex-mex Chicken with Chiles and Cheese). Fifteen minutes before the hubby is due home, I get a text message:
“Somebody sideswiped my car while I was inside work, scratching the entire driver’s side and ripping off my mirror.”
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?! We were *this* close to being caught up on bills in a month or two, not having to juggle so much – and now we have to figure out how to cover $1000 in car repairs (hubby does not have comprehensive insurance coverage and the sideswiper did not leave a note, natch). Poor hubby was (is) heartbroken; he LOVES his car. In fact, I’m very lucky that he loves me more than he loves his car because that has to mean he loves me a whole lot because he reeeally looooves his car.
some of the damage
bye mirror
Thankfully, it’s still drive-able and we ordered a new mirror last night so he can replace that by the end of the week (the last thing we need now is a ticket for the mirror on top of the repair costs). But there’s other stuff that needs to be done – something about a quarter-panel being out of place and a speaker knocked out. I’m not good with automotive details; I just know we didn’t need something like this. It could have been worse, yes, but it just really didn’t need to happen at all. Hubby was parked on a well-lit, main street – not really sure how someone managed to hit him. Cell phone distraction? Drunk driver? Simple idiocy? I don’t know.
I have a Starbucks caramel macchiato as a treat this morning (with nonfat milk and Splenda, of course), but I really wish it was an Irish coffee. Too bad they frown on whiskey at work.
Don’t you hate when Monday walks up to you, smacks you around, steps on your lunch, and walks away laughing? Yeah, that was my Monday. I feel like the rain today (after a good span of beautiful sunny days) was brought on by me because I felt like rain when I went to bed last night.
1. My friend Nicole’s brother had a heart attack and died over the weekend. I don’t know his exact age, but it was around 40. I feel so sad for my friend and her family; this must be an unbearable shock. Beyond that, being nearly six years from 40, myself, this is terrifying.
2. I was passed over for an opportunity that I wanted very much. Can’t say much more other than to say that I am significantly bummed out.
3. Not doing a good job in my battle with the scale. Need to get a grip and just… friggin… focus.
4. Attended my first Catholic wedding over the weekend. Wow, talk about the land that women’s lib missed. The ceremony was full of statements about being overjoyed with all the children God grants you (no “if” statements, all very “you WILL procreate!”), about how the husband needs to “be patient with” the wife and how the wife needs “to be nice” to the husband (ohhhhhmg, my head almost exploded), about how the families will be concerned whether “he spoils her as she should be” and whether “she will cook like his mamma”. OH. MY. F’ING. GOD. I don’t live in a bubble; I know there are issues with the Catholic church but I never experienced it before. Holy jeez indeed.
5. Speaking of women’s lib, check out this really insane idea: basically, an Ohio bill is proposing that women get a note from a man before they get an abortion. You know, like getting a note for skipping gym class or missing school because you don’t feel well. If you don’t know who the father is, no abortion for you (sexually liberated women must just suck it up and deal). If it’s rape or incest, you have to prove it first. Sure, no problem – that’s always easy to do. Every bit of this makes me sick.
6. That said, I’m reaching a negativity limit. I can’t take all the complaining and soap-boxing and criticism I run into online every day. I’m sensitive to criticism and to argument and it’s getting really wearing to read this stuff every day. Is there a website where people talk about life with a hopeful and optimistic, but still funny and snarky tone?
7. On a lighter note, the hubby and I have been living in our apartment for five months now and we still have only hung up one picture (and that one only because it’s huge and it behooves us to have it hanging on the wall rather than in the hallway, on the floor). I want to do a little craft project and do a fabric cover for my corkboard and finally figure out what wedding photos I want to print and frame around the apartment. Just need money and time. Anyone got some to spare?
