Thursday, May 14, 2009
An admission.
J JUST ADMITTED THAT I AM THE BEST!!!! I am so proud of him for finally embracing the truth.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Permits and Names
J: (referring to his concealed weapons permit) I got a permit!
me: (referring to my learner's permit) Me, too!
J: Not THAT kind of permit, Lisa F. Austin.
me: What does "F" stand for?
J: Frederick.
me: No, F is for fabulous. Or fancy pants.
J: Ha.
me: F is for "fun, comma, barrel full of monkeys".
J: whaaa???
me: No wait, it's "fun as a barrel full of monkeys, comma, as much".
me: (referring to my learner's permit) Me, too!
J: Not THAT kind of permit, Lisa F. Austin.
me: What does "F" stand for?
J: Frederick.
me: No, F is for fabulous. Or fancy pants.
J: Ha.
me: F is for "fun, comma, barrel full of monkeys".
J: whaaa???
me: No wait, it's "fun as a barrel full of monkeys, comma, as much".
Bagels for every ethnicity. Or not.
Lisa: What kind of bagels are these?
J: Look at them. What do they look like?
Lisa: I have no clue. Sesame, but then some kind of fruit, maybe, but I dunno. So what are they?
J: How can you not tell? Look, that one's some sort of raisin-something...
Lisa: (points to something with brown lumps) I'm particularly confused about this one.
J: Don't even bother. You're Japanese; you won't like that one.
J: Look at them. What do they look like?
Lisa: I have no clue. Sesame, but then some kind of fruit, maybe, but I dunno. So what are they?
J: How can you not tell? Look, that one's some sort of raisin-something...
Lisa: (points to something with brown lumps) I'm particularly confused about this one.
J: Don't even bother. You're Japanese; you won't like that one.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Going peudo-pescetarian.
I am freaking out because today I decided to go pseudo-pescetarian. I don't really eat meat at home anyway but the thought of COMMITTING TO NOT COOKING MEAT AT HOME made me panic just a little bit. Here's how it's going to work:
1. The only meat I will prepare in my house is seafood. Okay, I just freaked out writing that because I am still having a hard time deciding whether or not to make an allowance for BACON. And chicken broth.
2. I am allowed to eat meat when I eat out or at other people's homes.
3. I dunno, I just feel like I need a third rule to round this out. Completely unrelated, I have decided I really need to stop drinking milk. I literally drink it four times a year, max, but I always end up feeling really gross afterwards. But I'm keeping cheese and butter in my diet. Which I am allowed to do. Because I'm not going vegan.
As I mentioned above, I have no real reason to be worried. In fact, people often assume that I'm a vegetarian based on what they see me eat. But I still feel like I might be marrying the wrong man, or I just got a tattoo that I'll probably regret in a week.
To cheer myself up, I bought a mustard-and-something encrusted salmon fillet for tomorrow.
1. The only meat I will prepare in my house is seafood. Okay, I just freaked out writing that because I am still having a hard time deciding whether or not to make an allowance for BACON. And chicken broth.
2. I am allowed to eat meat when I eat out or at other people's homes.
3. I dunno, I just feel like I need a third rule to round this out. Completely unrelated, I have decided I really need to stop drinking milk. I literally drink it four times a year, max, but I always end up feeling really gross afterwards. But I'm keeping cheese and butter in my diet. Which I am allowed to do. Because I'm not going vegan.
As I mentioned above, I have no real reason to be worried. In fact, people often assume that I'm a vegetarian based on what they see me eat. But I still feel like I might be marrying the wrong man, or I just got a tattoo that I'll probably regret in a week.
To cheer myself up, I bought a mustard-and-something encrusted salmon fillet for tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
J loves this.
me: you're such a bull-shitter
J: that was pretty good wasnt it?
me: yes
i wish i could bs like that
instead i just always seem guilty, even when i'm not
| 16 minutes |
J: youre always guilty
me: i am not
J: and youre in denial
| 10 minutes |
me: no, never
denial is a river that runs through egypt
J: no, THE NILE is a river that runs through egypt ... that joke doesnt work in text form
me: denial
derivernial
J: thats not a word
me: deliver nial
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Skinny.
J went home so now I am all by my lonesome. This morning I told him he looked skinny and he really appreciated that. I like boosting people's self esteem so I tried the line again this afternoon. I told him I didn't believe he had eaten his burger and fries because he looked so very skinny. This time he said I was laying it on a bit too thick. I thought my compliment sounded sincere.
Tomorrow I will ask him how many times a day he throws up in order to stay so skeletal. I will also tell him that he looks especially tall for some reason.
Tomorrow I will ask him how many times a day he throws up in order to stay so skeletal. I will also tell him that he looks especially tall for some reason.
Lunchtime update.
J and I had Five Guys for lunch. I always win because I am older and taller and smarter. And willing to cross the street to pick up the food. I win because I am not lazy. Not when it comes to food, anyway.
Lunchtime deadlock.
J won't have Five Guys for lunch so we are now at an impasse. A hungry, hungry impasse.
Because people are metro-retarded.
"I'm going to sit down so we're not all just standing here looking at the seat. If one of you would like to join me, that's fine."
My words to the two men standing next to an empty metro seat, as they each took turns slightly leaning towards it, then pulling back, for about 15 seconds. (Out of politeness?) I stopped short of announcing that I was taking the seat as the sole lady of the group because 1. ladies don't announce that they are ladies and 2. I'm not sure I really count as one, anyway.
My words to the two men standing next to an empty metro seat, as they each took turns slightly leaning towards it, then pulling back, for about 15 seconds. (Out of politeness?) I stopped short of announcing that I was taking the seat as the sole lady of the group because 1. ladies don't announce that they are ladies and 2. I'm not sure I really count as one, anyway.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
What I learned today.
Today I learned that I technically don't live in Columbia Heights. Because I am one block north of Spring Road, I live in 16th Street Heights. I feel less hip now.
I really wish I lived near the Logan Circle Whole Foods so that I could say that I live in Borderstan.
I really wish I lived near the Logan Circle Whole Foods so that I could say that I live in Borderstan.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Effing, effing mice.
There is an effing, effing mouse in my house. I know there is an effing mouse in my house because this tiny beast had the nerve to show itself to me, scuttling along the wall behind my baker's rack. I cannot believe this.
I believed the roaches. They're pretty typical. But this effing mouse I cannot believe. Unbelievable.
This means I need an exterminator. This means I cannot walk anywhere in my apartment without worrying about rodent germs. I just kind of threw up in my mouth typing "rodent germs". Oh gawd.
I can't put my feet on the ground because I'm afraid a stupid mouse will run over my foot, maybe get confused by my movements and GET STUCK IN MY HOUSE SLIPPERS, UNDER MY FOOT.
Oh gawd. Barf in mouth.
Or what if they climb into my purse? And I go to buy myself tea, and I reach into my purse and when I pull my hand out there's a mouse writhing in it?
Oh gawd, this makes so much sense. Now I know why my neighbors have cats, against the apartment complex rules. They need something to catch the mice.
I feel so gross I want to shower. But I'm afraid if I go to shower, I will find a mouse in the tub with me, the way I was once luxuriating in the bath back home in Hawaii and, wondering what the squiggly feeling was against my leg, found a gecko in the tub with me.
This is such, SUCH bad news and I want to scream and cry and throw the rodent out the window all at once. THIS IS BULLSHIT, PEOPLE.
Gawd.
I believed the roaches. They're pretty typical. But this effing mouse I cannot believe. Unbelievable.
This means I need an exterminator. This means I cannot walk anywhere in my apartment without worrying about rodent germs. I just kind of threw up in my mouth typing "rodent germs". Oh gawd.
I can't put my feet on the ground because I'm afraid a stupid mouse will run over my foot, maybe get confused by my movements and GET STUCK IN MY HOUSE SLIPPERS, UNDER MY FOOT.
Oh gawd. Barf in mouth.
Or what if they climb into my purse? And I go to buy myself tea, and I reach into my purse and when I pull my hand out there's a mouse writhing in it?
Oh gawd, this makes so much sense. Now I know why my neighbors have cats, against the apartment complex rules. They need something to catch the mice.
I feel so gross I want to shower. But I'm afraid if I go to shower, I will find a mouse in the tub with me, the way I was once luxuriating in the bath back home in Hawaii and, wondering what the squiggly feeling was against my leg, found a gecko in the tub with me.
This is such, SUCH bad news and I want to scream and cry and throw the rodent out the window all at once. THIS IS BULLSHIT, PEOPLE.
Gawd.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Thoughts on MLK Day
I am suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.
There was a man interviewed on the NBC Nightly News who, at the age of 100, traveled from New Orleans to Washington, DC to witness the historic inauguration of the first black President of the United States of America. This was a man who is old enough to have been a cotton picker in the south, who survived hurricane Katrina. I think of how I never would have imagined that I would see a black president in my lifetime, and I can't even fathom what he is experiencing at this moment.
This makes me think of my father, who was born in 1927 and lived in Tennessee for part of his childhood. A man for whom it was normal to drink from designated water fountains and sit in specific areas due to the color of his skin. I think of all the things I know he was denied, and wonder about the things I don't know about, privileges that we now take for granted, but were denied to him and others based on skin color. A man whose birth certificate listed him as "colored". He died in 1988, and of course I always wonder what my life would be like if he were still alive. But at this moment, I think of all of the sacrifices he made, the difficulties he experienced as a man of color, for me and my brothers. I wish he could be here to witness this.
I think of how it makes so much sense that our first black president would come from Hawaii. The state is not without its problems, including discrimination. But I never felt, as a woman or as a black person, that I couldn't achieve anything I put my mind to. Before my first visit to Virginia, I never really felt my that race mattered. Here I'm often reminded that I am a minority. Sometimes it's subtle, but it's there. It was back home in the islands that I was allowed (for the most part) to be a person rather than a stereotype. It's at times like this that I remember how lucky I was to grow up in Hawaii.
Speaking of... please keep your fingers crossed that the poor kids from my alma mater's marching band don't turn into human icicles in this weather.
There was a man interviewed on the NBC Nightly News who, at the age of 100, traveled from New Orleans to Washington, DC to witness the historic inauguration of the first black President of the United States of America. This was a man who is old enough to have been a cotton picker in the south, who survived hurricane Katrina. I think of how I never would have imagined that I would see a black president in my lifetime, and I can't even fathom what he is experiencing at this moment.
This makes me think of my father, who was born in 1927 and lived in Tennessee for part of his childhood. A man for whom it was normal to drink from designated water fountains and sit in specific areas due to the color of his skin. I think of all the things I know he was denied, and wonder about the things I don't know about, privileges that we now take for granted, but were denied to him and others based on skin color. A man whose birth certificate listed him as "colored". He died in 1988, and of course I always wonder what my life would be like if he were still alive. But at this moment, I think of all of the sacrifices he made, the difficulties he experienced as a man of color, for me and my brothers. I wish he could be here to witness this.
I think of how it makes so much sense that our first black president would come from Hawaii. The state is not without its problems, including discrimination. But I never felt, as a woman or as a black person, that I couldn't achieve anything I put my mind to. Before my first visit to Virginia, I never really felt my that race mattered. Here I'm often reminded that I am a minority. Sometimes it's subtle, but it's there. It was back home in the islands that I was allowed (for the most part) to be a person rather than a stereotype. It's at times like this that I remember how lucky I was to grow up in Hawaii.
Speaking of... please keep your fingers crossed that the poor kids from my alma mater's marching band don't turn into human icicles in this weather.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Boys: stop giving me your number.
If you want to speak to me on the phone, please ask for my number rather than offering yours. Yes, I know it's intimidating to ask. But srsly you guys.
Maybe you think it sounds like this: "I am interested in you, and I'm expressing my desire to meet again. I'll leave it up to you to determine what comes next. No pressure."
And it really doesn't sound like that. Not at all. It sounds more like this: "Do you like me? I'm not sure. Gosh, what if you give me the "reject line"? Would you do that to a nice guy like me? Hm... I KNOW! I'll let you call me so I don't have to get my feelings hurt. Brilliant, I am!"
We all get rejected at some point, and that's okay. It's a part of life. So please, you guys. No more of that, alright?
Maybe you think it sounds like this: "I am interested in you, and I'm expressing my desire to meet again. I'll leave it up to you to determine what comes next. No pressure."
And it really doesn't sound like that. Not at all. It sounds more like this: "Do you like me? I'm not sure. Gosh, what if you give me the "reject line"? Would you do that to a nice guy like me? Hm... I KNOW! I'll let you call me so I don't have to get my feelings hurt. Brilliant, I am!"
We all get rejected at some point, and that's okay. It's a part of life. So please, you guys. No more of that, alright?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
If: Me, Now.
If I don't go out dancing sometime soon omgomgomg I will die.
If I don't read consecutive chapters of a book in a short enough period of time that I actually remember the last thing I read, this is the smartest and most informed I will ever be in life. Jaysus, you guys.
If I don't start making grocery lists I will continue to eat meals like frozen eggplant cutlets with oatmeal and miso soup. And that is disgusting.
If I wake up in the middle of the night one more time to find my books, pens, journal and phone arranged perfectly on my nightstand, I will have to call an exorcist because we all know I'm not the one putting things in any sort of order that makes sense.
If anyone is interested in sponsoring a trip to Luxembourg I'd be interested in taking you up on that offer. I'd like to see my brother, please.
If I don't read consecutive chapters of a book in a short enough period of time that I actually remember the last thing I read, this is the smartest and most informed I will ever be in life. Jaysus, you guys.
If I don't start making grocery lists I will continue to eat meals like frozen eggplant cutlets with oatmeal and miso soup. And that is disgusting.
If I wake up in the middle of the night one more time to find my books, pens, journal and phone arranged perfectly on my nightstand, I will have to call an exorcist because we all know I'm not the one putting things in any sort of order that makes sense.
If anyone is interested in sponsoring a trip to Luxembourg I'd be interested in taking you up on that offer. I'd like to see my brother, please.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Warning to King Street Blues Patrons.
This should already be clear to you, but "roadhouse nachos" means cheese whiz on potato chips, topped with what looks like a guac-mayo combo. I know this is obvious because nowhere on the happy hour menu is there an explanation detailing the elements of the dish. If there is no explanation, that means it's common knowledge. If you thought there would be tortilla chips involved in any way, well, I'm sorry you're so ignorant.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Updates
While everyone else is searching for a dress for an inaugural ball, I am on the hunt for a birthday dress.
My Bloody Mary craving has been satisfied. I finally got one with brunch this morning, only to find that they are disgusting. Turns out what I really wanted was gazpacho in a glass.
My Bloody Mary craving has been satisfied. I finally got one with brunch this morning, only to find that they are disgusting. Turns out what I really wanted was gazpacho in a glass.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Lest you feel unloved
RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC RAUL AND ERIC.
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