Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Dads who think they're funny UNITE!

Apparently, Not Boyfriend and I have the same dad. You know, the dad who thinks it’s funny to give his kids gag gifts at Christmas? We were talking about Christmas memories the other night and I told him about how my dad used to delight in giving me canned peas every Christmas. I HATE canned peas, and he knows this, and so he would always wrap them up really nicely and sometimes there would be a poem with it and one time he decorated it with Cabbage Patch Kids stuff. At first I thought it was stupid, but after a while I sorta looked forward to what he’d come up with. A couple of times he would try really hard to figure out what I got him and then get me the exact same gift – and then make me open mine first. Luckily I have a strong psyche, because that type of stuff is damaging to a kid, DAD! However, I must say that he more than made up for that all of the times he built me beautiful things like a baby cradle and the coolest refrigerator and oven set EVER.
Not Boyfriend told me that one year he asked for a motorcycle and his dad actually got him one, however it was in pieces, and he had to build it himself, piece by piece. It took him two years and by the time it was finished, he was too big to ride it. Then there was the time he asked for a new fly rod and his dad brought down the case that fly rods come in and when Not Boyfriend opened it up, it was a bunch of sticks duct taped together with some fishing line and a hook attached. He said he was totally bummed and his dad played it out for a couple of hours until he finally gave in and brought down the real rod. Heh.
These days I get things like a one million piece car emergency kit or a cordless drill (I think Dad’s motto when it comes to tools is “ask and you shall receive” so I always ask for tools) but I always know that I’ll get something uniquely Dad. He is that dad who will shop until the very last second on Christmas Eve, but by golly, he’ll have picked out your gift himself. And it’s always something that shows that he knows me and knows what I like. I love that about him. Luckily, he’s the best dad every day of the year, even when he’s pulling stupid Christmas-related practical jokes. And strangely enough? I sorta miss the peas…

Reindeer Names

In case you were wondering, I have just been informed by Linda’s daughter (the totally smart and totally gorgeous 4 year old) that if you want to call Santa’s reindeer, their names are Dasha, Cupit, Bransa, Blitzen, and Donna. You know, in case you were wondering.

Friday, December 17, 2004

A Boy and His Dog

So last night I witnessed what was alternately the most heart-wrenching and most heart-warming thing ever. I laughed, I cried, I fell further for Not Boyfriend.
When Not Boyfriend went through his divorce (which is why we are NOT dating because he’s still getting over the whole thing – like I said before, it’s a long story) he got one of the dogs and she got one. Well, now he can’t even keep his one dog for many reasons. One being it’s frickin’ expensive to pay the ridiculous thing called “pet rent” at his apartment, but the most important thing being that he feels like he’s not doing his border collie any favors by having him cooped up in an apartment all by himself all day while Not Boyfriend works six days a week. So he’s been thinking about what to do – does he try and find Mr. Collie (by the way, that’s not the dog’s name – it’s actually a much tougher name than that, and frankly, Not Boyfriend would be appalled that I would even consider calling a dog “Mr.” anything) a family to live with, does he take him to a no kill shelter? He’s seriously the sweetest dog – he’s like 55 pounds and yet is convinced that he’s a lap dog.
Anyway, I was talking about the situation at work and one of the guys is like “we might want a border collie” because they already have one and feel that she needs a friend and so we set up a doggie meet and greet last night. We’re standing outside for like 45 minutes in totally frigid weather while the dogs frolicked in the park and there was a lot of dog personality talk and the conversation kind of turned to why he had to give Mr. Collie up. This is where the heart-wrenching/warming occurred, in case you were wondering when I was going to get to the point. Not Boyfriend is talking a little bit about why he felt like he had to find Mr. Collie a home and he totally gets choked up and is on the verge of full blown crying. This of course almost undoes me, because let’s face it, I cry at pretty much everything. And seeing a guy who is six foot four and what you would describe as “a man’s man” through and through losing it over his dog, well, it’s enough to make a wuss like me bawl like a baby and yet at the same time make me adore him even more than I already do. What I actually did was awkwardly pat the back of his neck. But seriously, anyone who has ever had a pet would understand this – he’s had the dog since he was a puppy (now he’s seven years old) and this has been his pal and his companion since he got divorced and now he has to give him up. I’ll tell you what, even my co-worker and his wife got a little teary, and they don’t even know Not Boyfriend. If something like that doesn’t move you at all, well, I’m here to tell you that you have a cold tin heart. Anyway.
The outcome of the meet and greet was that the family most likely wants Mr. Collie, and so after the holidays we will be meeting up with them to give Mr. Collie to them. And I already know that if I thought last night was heart wrenching, well, I better brace myself.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Baby Kitty for Sale!

So, if anyone is looking for a baby kitty, roughly seven months old who is super cute but quite possibly the worst behaved baby kitty EVER, well, I’ve got one. I came home Monday night to discover that in all of her gallivanting around on top of the fridge that she knocked it WIDE OPEN and therefore all of my food was thawing. Super. After I stood there and yelled some swear words (wearing the boots, mind you, that look like a cougar attacked them because I left them out one day and she thought they looked fun to wrestle with), it occurred to me that I should look around and see if I’d been burglarized. My friend Jeff’s parents just got robbed and they also left the fridge open because they watch those movies where people hide money in the freezer. No, no signs of burglary, just naughty cats. I told Not Boyfriend about it and (after totally laughing at me) he said that that’s why I should get a dog, because they aren’t smart enough to open the freezer. I said that it was less that she was smart and more that she is klutzy. I’m sure the scenario played out that she wanted to get down in a hurry and tripped and knocked it open. Or something. As cats go, she's not that coordinated. I need one of those nanny-cams to get the real story. Anyway. I put some “sticky paws” on top of the fridge to deter her from getting up there, apparently to no avail, as when I came home last night, the freezer was open AGAIN. So I investigated the sticky paws stuff and sure enough, there was baby kitty fuzzies all over them. I thought that the point of that stupid stuff was that cats don’t like to have their paws stuck to things and so they would avoid that particular area. It worked on the mantle, WHY NOT THE FREEZER!! So I closed the freezer – AGAIN – and prayed that the motor wasn’t burned out – AGAIN – and got out the packing tape and taped the freezer closed. Yeah, I'm ghetto, so? I just didn't feel like going to the hardware store at that minute to get one of those child safety thingies for the freezer door. Packing tape works, and it makes it much more difficult for me to get in there, which caused me to wonder if the cats are trying to tell me something. Are they saying I’m fat? Do they want me to stop buying frozen food? Do they want me to not drink the cranberry vodka that I keep in there? Is it possible that my cats are teetotalers? I guess I'll never know...

Friday, December 10, 2004

Asshat (part two)

To make a long story longer (because that’s how I TELL stories), all of the sudden, after the 24 hour disappearance, he calls as if nothing was wrong and then when I give him attitude, acts like I’m out of my mind. And so apparently to punish me or something, for the next three days, he totally blows me off. Suddenly he was “working late,” which I didn’t believe for a second, because he barely works at all, much less late. And then when I finally saw him, and we “discussed” what the problem was, he’s like “I just freaked out because this is going so fast.” Really? It is? I hadn’t noticed because I was busy listening to your plans for our kids to go to private school and what sort of house we’re going to buy. I must have missed the part where you wanted to take things slow. So he then talks about how he had indeed broken up with the CASUAL girlfriend, but he was afraid that I’d be a rebound. A rebound? From a CASUAL relationship? Huh. Doesn’t sound all that casual to me. Which is what I said and he babbled something about something that was like “well I know I want to be with you, but I really want to take it slow” and I was like “Great! Super! Slow is good!” And so we saw each other that weekend and I haven’t seen him since. He made some half-assed efforts at calling me to which I made some half-assed efforts at calling him back like 5 days later. And then Not Boyfriend came back into the picture and I realized just how absolutely not for me Sean is and how much I absolutely adore Not Boyfriend. But that’s another story. Then Sean’s communications with me degenerated into him drunk dialing me and me not answering, the last episode of which was at 1:30 in the morning the night before Thanksgiving. The Saturday after Thanksgiving, I get a call from my friend Mandy (also from my high school) who I had told about Sean, and as it turns out, she works with the sister of Sean’s CASUAL girlfriend. So Mandy CASUALLY asks the sister if CASUAL and Sean had broken up recently, and she said no, in fact they’re doing great and he had been over at their family’s house for Thanksgiving. So Mandy, being the great friend that she is, told the sister the whole story. Needless to say, the sister was shocked and a little bit pissed. She called her mom to ask if CASUAL and Sean had broken up, and her mom said no, so the sister told her why she had asked, and so then her mom also was shocked and also a lot bit pissed. I think she used the word “bastard.” Anyway, the sister was supposedly going to call Sean and tell him that he better tell CASUAL the story and if he didn’t she would. And then she would tell anyway, because it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he’s the biggest liar ever. Hopefully I’ll hear the outcome of that from Mandy eventually. I told her to be sure to tell the sister about the Thanksgiving drunk dial. Heh HEH.
Amazingly, I haven’t heard from Sean. You know, Sean. Sean Donahue:Asshat.

Sean Donahue: Asshat (part one)

I decided that the subject of this entry doesn’t deserve to have a “ ‘Insert Identifying Characteristic Here’ Boyfriend” name, but instead what he DOES deserve (among other things) is to have his FULL NAME out there for all to see. Heh. I consider this a public service.
Ok, so the A-List was just involved in a wedding EXTRAVAGANZA in which Karen married John. It was awesome. The most fun a wedding could possibly be, partly because John also went to our high school and so it was like homecoming 1991 (except drunk) because ALL of the bridesmaids and ALL of the groomsmen were from our high school and we’ve known each other forever. But I digress.
So I knew that Sean Donahue would be there, because he is a friend of John’s from back then, and I was excited to see him because we had liked each other in high school, but then he moved away after our freshman year and things happen and we totally lost touch. To clarify, he REALLY liked me in 9th grade and I was busy having a crush on a guy who was a senior and so I didn’t pay any attention to him until he was seeing someone else and I decided I wanted him. Because that’s how it worked back then. Anyway. He shows up at the wedding and we end up talking and hanging out for most of the night and he tells me that he came to the wedding to see me and he hoped we could maybe start seeing each other. I was like “ok” because the whole “I came to see you” thing was pretty flattering. And also? I was pretty drunk. He did mention that he had been CASUALLY dating a girl who he did not bring with him to the wedding because he knew I’d be there. I was like “Whatever, great, is there more champagne?” however Beth gave him a lengthy lecture of which the gist was “Break up with the other girl before you even think of dating Amber because if you hurt her I will KILL YOU.”
So I gave him my number and he called the very next day and we decided he’d come over for a drink on Monday night. So he did and we chatted and he immediately started saying things like “I’ve been in love with you since we were 13.” Ok, whatever, freakshow, but I was still in the blindly flattered stage, so I let it pass. So two weeks go by in which he calls, he comes over nearly every night, he brings me flowers, he buys me dinner. It’s like real dating. And little by little, more comes out about the CASUAL girlfriend. You know “Well, we’ve been dating off and on for 5 years (What? Who “casually dates” for FIVE YEARS?) but I know that I don’t want to marry her. I want to marry you.” Um, dude? We’ve been dating for two weeks. Two. Weeks. Then he tells me that he wants to buy a house with me. Like right now. To which I say no, thank you, because the house we’re in right now? I own it. I just bought it six months ago and I plan on living here for quite some time. So no. And also? Two. Weeks. It was just ridiculous stuff like that where I’m like “What?” but against my better judgment I let it slide because I’m flattered. Even though I’m not the least bit attracted to him, especially since I keep secretly comparing him to Not Boyfriend (who I was truly not seeing at all at the time). Oh and one time he said "hey, I passed up sex tonight to be with you" (referring to the fact that the girl he was CASUALLY dating had called) and I'm like "Really? Wow, how lucky am I?" What? WHAT? Who says that to a girl they keep calling "honey" and referring to as their girlfriend? Who? Someone with no inner monologue, that's who. I just can't impart to you the high levels of jackass that he is.

One day, he decides to go to Ft. Collins for something and he tells me he’s going to keep his phone turned off because the battery’s low and he left his charger at home. Where he lives. With his parents. Another unheeded warning. Sigh. Kendra was immediately suspicious, but I had no reason to be, until he didn’t call or return my calls for a full 24 hours. And he also did not show up where he was supposed to the following afternoon. And it alllll went downhill from there.
This is a long story. So part two is forthcoming....


I realized that while all of my female friends get to go by their regular names, some of the boys in my life go by "code" names. I'm not sure why, but I think it stems from the fact that either I have zero boys in my life, or like 75. And it gets tiresome and confusing for my friends to remember their names (and for me to keep explaining who they are), because you just never know how long they'll be around, and also, you never know when you'll meet another boy with the same name as that guy you met that one time in the summer of '94. Also, it sort of protects their true identity. Or something. If they stay around long enough, they get to be called by their real name. See how I have a system?

So I came up with the "boyfriend" tag. Usually, they're not technically boyfriends, but they are friends that are boys. For example, Hawaiian boyfriend was named Mano, which sounded just like the "kissing disease" and so I figured out pretty quickly that in order to eliminate the snickering of the A-List whenever I'd want to say something about him, well, calling him Hawaiian Boyfriend just saved us all some time. Then there was Workplace Boyfriend, who was cute until he started talking to me. He was quickly downgraded to Office Guy after that. CSI Boyfriend is none other than Nick Stokes (or George Eads, if you're intent on his non-tv show identity) however, sometimes it's a dead heat between him and Other CSI Boyfriend, Warrick Brown. Nice. Oh yeah, and there's also Neighbor Boyfriend. Which I think is pretty self-explanatory.

So there you have it -- another trademark long-winded explanation about something only peripherally relevant, but yet something I felt I should explain...

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Obsessive Compulsive Girl gets ready for Christmas!!

I’ve been ready to decorate since the weekend before Thanksgiving – in fact, that’s when I started. I finally got my tree this weekend – I took my mom, because I got tired of waiting for Not Boyfriend and wanted to get the tree put up so I could get my money’s worth out of it. I mean, because I wanted the beauty to inspire Christmas joy. Maybe a little of both. Anyway, we went to 3 tree lots. This is where I’m glad I took my mom, because I think Not Boyfriend would have killed me – I’m sorry, but you can’t take Obsessive-Compulsive Girl to just one lot. I didn’t want to spend one meeeelion dollars and I also didn’t want a sad and scrawny tree. It all turned out for the best, because not only did I not subject Not Boyfriend to OC Girl (I like him and I would like him to continue liking me – I’ll spring that on him LATER) but I ended up spending like $25 and getting about a 6 foot tree – it smells so good and looks so pretty, especially when I turn on the Christmas lights all over my house and turn off all of the regular lights. It’s so romantic I almost want to kiss myself. Not really. But it certainly does look pretty. So then I went to St. Nick’s, which is the most amazing Christmas store EVER. And I spent more money than I should have on a couple of ornaments (because the tree is decorated with ornaments from when I was little and also ones that I’ve gone hog-wild on buying this year in fits of uncontrollable Christmas spirit) and also on a star for the top of the tree, because I was looking for the perfect topper and I found it there. HOWEVER, the downfall to all of this is that Obsessive-Compulsive Girl may have met a new nemesis – pine needles. They’re frickin’ EVERYWHERE. I have to vacuum all the time because not only are they around the tree, but they’re everywhere else, because the cats track them all over the place. There was one in my tub this morning, just laying there, taunting me. After I finished decorating the tree this weekend, I told Dan that the Winter Wonderland was complete. He told me that he didn’t believe me. Turns out, he was right. I just keep adding little touches here and there, but I really think I’m done now. Really.

I found my special purpose!!

So now that I'm an accidental blogger no more, I will now subject you to my ramblings on PURPOSE. HA. I have a posting all set to go about my Christmas tree and decorations, but then I realized I should put up a cast of characters for those of you who are not privy to my FASCINATING every day life. It's a long one, so brace yourself.
The A-List: My best friends from high school -- Becki, Beth, Karen, Kendra and Kristina. The best friends EVER and a source of constant wit and amusement. We bestowed the name on ourselves in high school as well. Clearly we think that we are as hot as any a-list celeb (and let's face it -- we really are) but also it has to do with the book "The Scarlet Letter" -- admittedly a boring book, but the "A" represented us being kind of slutty. (What's funny about that is that we really weren't. Oh there was kissing, but we were pretty low key back then. Not to say that we're slutty NOW...well, anyway, you get the point) I guess that's what you get when witty girls get bored in advanced english class. Heh.
My mom: I love my mom and we are great friends, but she drives me absolutely nuts sometimes. I always refer to myself as "Obsessive Compulsive Girl" and I am, but I came by it honestly. She can't come to my house without cleaning something up, and I'm pretty darn tidy. She has a key, and so often I have her go over and "check on the cats" if I have purposely left out something that I know she'll tidy up that I'm too lazy to do. Hey, we go with what works. She also loves my cats, and so we call her "Obsessive Compulsive Grandma." I have a dad too, but he's one of those mellow dads who doesn't interfere with much because he (rightly) figures that my mom does enough for them both.
My brother: His name is Tim and he's 8 years younger than me, therefore we are just now starting to like each other. I usually refer to him as "my brother" as if he had no other name. He is cool and REALLY talented. He plays guitar in a (surprisingly good) band and he is the most incredible artist ever. He is going to college for film production, which of course, he is also a pro at. Good thing I'm not biased.
My Not-Boyfriend: There's a fairly long story behind that one and so in the interest of time, I'll save that for later. Suffice it to say, he is a guy I REALLY like and who has recently gotten a divorce and so we are NOT dating while he gets over that. So NOT dating entails us hanging out and also talking on the phone quite frequently. And it may or may not entail kissing. I'm just saying. Anyway, I'm fine with the situation, because he seems to be the kind of guy who is well worth my time. I want to keep him around and so we'll see how it all goes. He will be referred to as Not-Boyfriend or NB because I'm lazy.
Linda: My hilarious friend who I met in a roundabout way. I used to be a nanny. She was the nanny that was there before me. Now we are friends and she makes me laugh. A lot. We talk on email a lot because she lives in the mountains. She has the cutest little daughter ever who is totally smart and totally gorgeous. She also has a horrible sister who we refer to as Voldemort (which is the name of the ultimate evil guy in the Harry Potter books, in case you weren't sure). The reason I say this is because Voldemort is not only the evil sister of Linda, but the super evil ex-wife of...
Dan: He is totally nice and funny and I like hanging out with him. He let me help him decorate his new, Voldemort-free house. He makes fun of me for crying about "NYPD Blue" and for crying at the stage version of "A Christmas Carol." But it's all in good-natured fun and he remembers important things like what my favorite cocktail is and he has it on hand for when I come over. That's good stuff right there people. Someone who can be sarcastic and yet not mean, and who makes me laugh while also providing my favorite beverage? Priceless.
The Babies: My cats. I have a black cat (he's the oldest -- a year -- and the best cat EVER) and a tiger cat (she's the disobedient and naughty CUTEST baby ever).
That was way long. I know more people, but I think we've covered enough for now so that there's no confusion over the Christmas post...

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

I am now an accidental blogger

So today I was reading the posts from my friends Beth & Merideth regarding their house. Mind you, I've been reading all along about the fantastic remodel of their house, and laughing at Merideth's awesome humor. Today I felt the need to reply to a totally non-house-related posting, regarding how their cat sleeps on Merideth's face. FYI, you may notice fairly quickly that I'm a cat girl. Sorry -- I just am. Anyway, in order to respond to the post, I had to make myself a blog. Ok. So here it is. And now off I go to respond to Merideth's post.