Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

The life and times of a girl named Swishy.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

On my day off

I went ice skating.
With a boy.
I don't know how to ice skate.
He tried to teach me.
It was fun.
Maybe we'll go again sometime.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

It's all relative

So I've been working a lot lately. I actually had a Valentine's post half-written, but then ... yup, had to work, never finished it. Is there anything LESS interesting than someone telling you how much they've been working lately? Let me answer that for you: Hell freaking no, there is nothing in the world remotely less interesting. Put A plus B together ... what does that equal? Me, basically the most boring person you know right now.

In fact, here's a (partial) list of things more interesting than me right this second:

* Flossing. Especially when you get a little piece of something out of your back teeth ... it's like roaming the beach with a metal detector and finally finding something other than bottle caps. Score!

* Blowing spit bubbles. Try it. Seriously. Right now, just try it.

* A line at the post office. I mean ... at least at the post office there's people-watching!

* Curling (as in the sport, not the iron). Although, this apparently seems to be the new hipster Olympic sport du jour, so maybe this is SUPER more interesting instead of just a little, I don't know.

* Reading the owner's manual to your car. My friend's mom used to go through hers and circle all of the phallic-looking shapes. That is absolutely a true story.

* Talking about the weather. This is made all the more fascinating when the weather-people start doing a little "pin the freezing temperature on the precipitation pattern" game to come up with their forecasts.

I have a day off coming up. I'll see what I can do to up the interesting factor a little around here. In the meantime, please regale me with tales of how interesting your lives are. I like to live vicariously.

Sunday, February 07, 2010

Engagement chicken

So we're sitting around at work the other day in a little bit of unnatural silence. Everyone's kind of pissy, and it's awkward, and if there's anything I can't stand it's unnatural, awkward, pissy silence. So of course I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head: "I'm making engagement chicken tomorrow."

You can practically feel the whoosh of the ears perking up. "What's engagement chicken?" one person asks.

Engagement chicken, I explain, is a recipe Glamour magazine prints every so often, and they SWEAR that if you make it for a guy he'll propose within two months. And no, I am not looking to get engaged any time soon, but I was looking for another recipe and found this one instead, and it's like four ingredients, two of which are salt and pepper, with about five minutes prep time, so why NOT make it, right?

"I've heard about this chicken," one guy says ominously. "Howard Stern's girlfriend made it for him, and he proposed right after. He kept saying on the show, it was the chicken. It was the effin' chicken. The chicken made me do it."

It's true, I say. If you Google it, you'll see a million testimonials about how foolproof it is.

It's amazing what this revelation does to the mood of the office. "So who are you making it for?" they ask, all a-twitter at the thought of a magical little love chicken.

No one, I insist. In fact, I'm adamant on this point. There will be no leftovers brought into the office, no invitations to pop-in visitors to pull up a chair and have a bite to eat. I am NOT playing with the fire of engagement chicken.

For the rest of the night, the questions roll in:

Coworker 1: "So if someone comes to your house and says, oh, I'm starving, I'm weak with starvation, I'm going to die, you're still not going to offer them any chicken?"
Me: "No! I'll hide the chicken and give them a bag of chips."

Coworker 2: "Are you scared if you eat engagement chicken by yourself, you’ll end up alone?"
Me: "No! What is WRONG with you?"

Coworker 1: "So, what? You're practicing? You're practicing, aren't you. I bet you'll be engaged by the end of the year."
Me: "Noooooo." (Pause.) "Although, I wonder if I THINK of someone while I eat it, it works the same way."
Coworker 1: "What, is Brad Pitt gonna show up at your door?"

Coworker 2, looking at me very seriously: "I don't want to get engaged."
Me: "I’m not ASKING you to get engaged."

* * * * * * * * * *

So I go to make the chicken and ... can I just say, ramming a foreign object (in this case, a lemon) up a chicken's rear end? Never a pleasant thing.

Update No. 1: Your friend Swishy cooks the chicken upside down, which, since I am a little neurotic about such things, basically ruins the whole experience. Hello, breakup chicken ... and honey popcorn, which I am now eating for dinner instead because I can't deal with the psychological implications of the whole thing.

Update No. 2: I'm starving, so I go into the kitchen and start picking at my little chickie. I may have judged too harshly. I mean, I'm not going to jump back into anything, but ... it's not too bad.

(And if Brad Pitt shows up at my door, I'll let you know.)

Monday, February 01, 2010

I wish they had a Grammy for best car singing

Oh, time, you have not been a friend of mine lately. In fact, you have been my vicious, bitter arch nemesis, and yes, I know I waste you a lot and don't appreciate you the way I should, but really? Is this any way to act? Let's make up. Please. I have like a zillion shows to watch on the DVR, I NEED YOU!

Yes, I have been a busy little bee lately. Work has been fairly non-stop and I've been working on a couple of little side things which make me happy, but my, oh my, have they made life a little insane. Not so insane, though, to keep me from a little Grammys chatter!

What I liked:

Lady Gaga and Elton John. I've decided I like pretty much every Lady Gaga performance. She is a lunatic, and I have a soft spot for lunatics. Also, if you can tear your eyes off all the over-the-top theatrics and insane outfits long enough to listen, she really does have a great voice.

Pink. I am not totally, 100 percent positive what that was, but HOLY CRAPOLA.

Beyonce. This one comes with an asterisk. Her performance was great, but I really, really, really wanted her to do Single Ladies instead, if for no other reason than it was in my head the entire rest of the night after it won the first award. (I did think it was cute--and a little surprising--that she thanked Jay-Z. Could have lived without the crotch grab, though.)

Sheryl Crow's dress. It was very simple, but I thought it was flowy and pretty.

What I was so-so on:

Taylor Swift. I think she's adorable and I think it's great that she won ... but am I crazy or was she a little off-key during her performance? Especially at the beginning? Maybe she was nervous, but I kept hearing Randy Jackson's voice ("It's a little pitchy, dawg, little pitchy") in my head as she sang.

The Michael Jackson tribute. THERE, I SAID IT. I know that's not really allowed, I know we're supposed to love every Michael Jackson tribute ever, and yes, I did have a little bit of love for Celine Dion and Usher performing on the same stage (not to mention not one but two American Idol alums) but they TOTALLY faked me out. I thought they were performing We are the World! I was all ready for it, singing it a little under my breath and ... nada. Thanks a lot, Lionel Richie. So disappointing.

What I definitely did not like:

Rihanna's dress. No woman alive should want to ADD to her hips, and the whole top of it was just a mess. But it wasn't as bad as ...

Katy Perry's HORRIFIC dress. Nude-colored anything is just a bad idea. I really, REALLY hated this dress.

Lil Wayne, Eminem and Drake. It is VERY annoying to have half the performance bleeped out because of language. I seriously kept thinking the sound on my TV was going out. Dude, you know you're on national TV, you know it's going to get bleeped. WHAT IS THE POINT.

My guilty pleasure of the night (no, Lady Gaga does not count):

Bon Jovi doing Living on a Prayer with the girl from Sugarland. What can I say ... once a Jersey girl, always a Jersey girl.

Happy Monday, everyone!