Wednesday, May 29, 2013


• I fell of the Quicken wagon, like, two years ago. I’m back on. That means I spent two hours last night classifying three months of expenses. Quicken automatically categorized all my Amazon purchases as Gifts. So when I initially checked out the pie chart of my monthly expenses, I looked very, very generous.

• Quicken has revealed—okay, that’s a lie, Quicken has confirmed—that I spend a lot of money completely unnecessarily. So, I am not doing that any more. I mean it! I’m not!

I genuinely like microwave popcorn. And I don’t feel guilty about it.

• Whenever a contestant on Chopped gets out the truffle oil I yell, “No! No! Don’t! Don’t do it!” because I know that the judges are gonna bust ‘em. Have these people never watched the show they’re on? Truffle oil gets you chopped, dudes.

• I think it bothers Jim that I talk at—no, not in, at—movies. But I can’t stop it. I like to interact with my media. (If you click on that link and read the post, do ignore the parts where I say nice a couple nice things about the Wasband. That was before he left me for my boyfriend's wife.)

• Unabashedly, I get all my political news from editorial cartoons.

• My puppy turned 7 on Monday. Right now she smells like Doritos. I don't find it offensive.

• Learn from my poor choices and heed this valuable piece of jaded advice: Don’t rely on anyone for anything. Be as self-sufficient as possible. That way, when your piece-of-garbage spouse leaves, you won’t be adrift sans motor.

• Isn’t panettone just the Italian version of dreaded fruit cake? Nobody likes that stuff. Calling it something fancy really shouldn't change that. Dried fruit things don't belong in baked goods.

• Cooked cherries gross me out.

• American Apparel’s Le Sac dress is a masterwork. I wear dresses home from yoga class and the Le Sac is a revelation. I have three. I want more.

I miss my Ambien. I didn’t think that I was having bad dreams. Oh, but I am. When I was on my beloved sleep drug, I didn’t remember the nightmares. But now that I’m back to sleeping horribly, I have the privilege of remembering my rotten dreams about the Wasband and his whore next door.

• It’s a blast to come home after the maid service has been here. I get to walk around the house and play Where The Hell’s My Stuff? Nobody’s stealing things; the gals just replace items in strange places. Bath mats in front of the washing machine? Okay, sure. Floor pillows set decoratively on the guest bed? All right. A photo of my sister’s dog Dash in my bathroom? Yeah, let’s do that.

1 comment:

Karla said...

Here's my housekeeping moment... My mom comes to visit and I can't find anything in the kitchen after she "tidies up." I ask, "where's the hot pad?" or "I can't find the butter dish." Her response is always the same. "Oh, I put it where it *should* go." Sigh. Heavy sigh.