More Annoyed than Amused

Archive for September, 2009

Do you even like me?

Posted by parsingtime on September 30, 2009

I like that I don’t have to come home to an empty apartment. And that I have someone to eat dinner with and go on walks with.

So what you’re saying is that you could replace me with a dog and be just as happy.

No. NO. I’m not saying that. That’s not what I meant at all.

That’s exactly what you’re saying.

At least I don’t have to clean up your sh*t.

Not yet.


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So Disturbed

Posted by parsingtime on September 29, 2009

So we are watching TV and an Amber Alert message starts flashing. Husband and I wait for the message to come on and the report was for a 5’1, 12-year-old girl, weighing 128lbs, clothing unknown but she is pregnant.  Nine months pregnant.


12. That’s what? Sixth grade?

Husband pointed out that when this girl is my age her child will be graduating from high school.  You’ve got to love Husband and his math skills.

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General McChrystal

Posted by parsingtime on September 28, 2009

If you didn’t see General McChrystal last night on 60 Minutes, he is worth watching.  He was realistic about what can be done in Afghanistan.

I can’t find the video on YouTube so you’ll have to go to 60 Minutes to watch it.

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Stompy McStomperson

Posted by parsingtime on September 25, 2009

Friendly neighbor from downstairs just came up and brought food.

Worse, she said she knocked earlier and no one answered but then she heard us stomping around upstairs so she came back up. Husband had come home five minutes earlier. I think we now know who the person is who walks around the apartment stomping like a 500 lb hippo on steroids.

This whole neighbor who brings food yet you pay to do your eyebrows thing is very awkward. I’m guessing Miss Manners doesn’t have an entry for that one.

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Posted by parsingtime on September 25, 2009

Somewhere near the west coast

It seems like everything reminds me of The Road lately. Fortunately, I am now reading No Country for Old Men which is about a drug deal gone wrong with lots of guns and serial killers.

Husband has a problem with this down comforter that we own and have never used.

What are we going to do with that thing? Can we sell it?

How was I to know that the people in Boston controlling our heat would keep our apartment at 80 degrees at all times. I just assumed we would need it.

We don’t and it just sits under the bed taking up space.

Well, if there is ever a nuclear winter like in The Road, you’ll be glad we have it.

That’s a big if.

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Opinions Needed

Posted by parsingtime on September 25, 2009

This is a major point of contention between Husband and I.

Yesterday, Husband dropped his contact holder thing-y in the toilet (it is one of those contact cases where the lid screws off and you put the contacts in holders and then screw the whole thing back together — don’t ask me what it is called I have no idea).

I say we should buy a new one.

Husband says we can boil it in hot water and it will be fine. And didn’t I clean the toilet yesterday?

Yes, yes I did clean the toilet yesterday and still between yesterday and the time the contact case dropped in the toilet things occurred in that toilet that should never be near your eye. Not even the microscopic molecule that might survive a boiling. Pink eye! Venereal Eye Disease! Plus it doesn’t cost that much to replace it.

Husband says, but it costs more than a dollar to replace it.

People of the internet, thoughts?

Perhaps the rule should now be that not only must you put the seat down on the toilet you must also put down the lid.

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Stilt Walkers

Posted by parsingtime on September 24, 2009

The people with the wind chimes have moved in downstairs. They brought their wind chimes. And it just so happens that the wife in the family of chimes is my eye brow lady.  They moved from their third floor apartment across the way to a first floor apartment underneath us because the people below them complained that they  were stomping on the floor loudly.

On my way out today I saw her and she mentioned that they had heard some stomping from us. We don’t stomp…well except when we are practicing our stilt walking act that we are hoping Barnum & Bailey is going to pick up. Everyone needs a back up job, right?

This is going to be a disaster. Especially since they keep all their windows and doors open (even in the summer) so she sees me when I leave my apartment to go anywhere.  I don’t want to have to make small talk every time I leave the apartment.  I don’t like small talk.

Apparently I don’t like friendly neighbors either.

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Happy Days

Posted by parsingtime on September 23, 2009

As always someone from the New York Times has captured my thoughts on children better than I ever could.

Most of my married friends now have children, the rewards of which appear to be exclusively intangible and, like the mysteries of some gnostic sect, incommunicable to outsiders. In fact it seems from the outside as if these people have joined a dubious cult: they claim to be much happier and more fulfilled than ever before, even though they live in conditions of appalling filth and degradation, deprived of the most basic freedoms and dignity, and owe unquestioning obedience to a capricious and demented master.

I have never even idly thought for a single passing second that it might make my life nicer to have a small, rude, incontinent person follow me around screaming and making me buy them stuff for the rest of my life. [Note to friends with children: I am referring to other people’s children, not to yours.]

And yet….

But there are also moments when some part of me wonders whether I am not only missing the biological boat but something I cannot even begin to imagine — an entire dimension of human experience undetectable to my senses, like a flatlander scoffing at the theoretical concept of sky.

And that my friends (I can’t say my friends without thinking of John McCain) are my feelings on kids in a nutshell. On the outside when I hold your cute nice smelling baby it seems like fun but when I get thank you cards for the gift I sent and you ask how things are going in Columbia I have to wonder about how poorly I would handle being that tired (the East Coast/West Coast flight did me in for petes sake). It would probably involve leaving my kid somewhere.

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Senile Bartender

Posted by parsingtime on September 22, 2009

So we went to SF this weekend for a friend from business schools wedding.  I don’t know what it is about business school friends that make them so awesome. I didn’t even go to business school and I love almost all the people from Husband’s section.  I wonder if it stems from always being a public school girl and wondering if Ivy leaguers are going to be mean or snobby or something. They aren’t, in case you were wondering. They are awesome.

It was a busy weekend full of Burmese food,  limo rides (did you know that it is cheaper to rent a limo from SF to Burlingame for seven people than it is to get a taxi? A 1980s limo driven by Steve-O, who wears chaps,but still a limo), lovely ceremonies, dancing, excellent wedding cake and beautiful September west coast weather.

The only odd spot on the weekend was this old bartender (who when I asked for something sweet suggested vodka and cranberry – gross and cranberry is not sweet!) who came up to me not once but three separate times to tell me I was beautiful. And that if that was my Husband he should cherish me. The first time I responded with a “you’re so sweet and thank you.”  My tone may have conveyed some disbelief (he was forceful in his belief that I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen — I think Gisele and about a billion other women would have something to say about that).

He caught me by myself the first time but the second and third time I was with other people. Other people who found him completely hilarious in his insistence. It was awkward. And confirms the fact that only Husband and really weird people (who might be high, drunk, senile or all three) find me attractive.  I’m not sure what that says about Husband or me.

Despite the crazy bartender we had fun at the wedding and Husband and I even danced, poorly of course, but since we were amongst friends it didn’t matter.

Now if only I could get myself up before 9am EST.

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Posted by parsingtime on September 21, 2009

We were in San Francisco this weekend for a whirlwind in and out trip for a friends wedding. Let me reiterate how painful it is to travel from coast to coast, in case I haven’t done it here. It is painful. For some reason the three hour time change messes with me more than a six hour time change does. Nevertheless, we had a fantastic weekend.

We rode the BART again. No one hit on me probably because I was with Husband (not on the BART at least, more on that later) but we did see someone clipping their nails. It was pretty disgusting.

Only in San Francisco

We also saw this advertisement on the BART, which I had to snap because you definitely wouldn’t find something like this in North Carolina.  I have no issues with the ad at all except for the fact that both those guys look like they belong in a 50’s doo wop band.  They couldn’t take a better photo? Also at the end of the wedding ceremony the priest/preacher lady pronounced our friends, “partners in a Christian marriage.” It was the first time I had heard that verses the usual “man and wife”  lingo.

I do so enjoy the liberal-ness of California, except when it means that it is okay to cut your nails on the train.

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