The Sisterhood of the Fat Pants

My freaking pants don't fit. As I sit here, the week after Thanksgiving, attempting to work though my lungs are constricted by the lack of spandex in these jeans, I am dreaming of a new "casual workday" concept called "Fat Pants Friday". Since I work for a place where every day is casual day, I feel that the next step in helping a person like me really unwind is to allow me to wear my fat pants to work. I can see it now...Sauntering into work wearing the big navy blue sweatpants with PENN written down the side that expand comfortably due to a drawstring waist. The benefits are numerous:

1. when I have to go to the bathroom 40 times a day because I'm drinking more water than a dehydrated camel, I can swiftly remove the fat pants all the way to my ankles, thus reducing the chance of peeing my pants or acquiring a bladder infection from holding it while I undo a belt or buckle or what have you.

2. I will no longer have to wear disgusting maternity shirts to hide the unsightly suggestion of camel toes caused by pants that don't REALLY fit after lunch. This one is a toss up: Utilitarian fat pants vs. ugly maternity shirt and camel toe. I think we can see who the clear winner is...

3. I can eat more than soup for lunch.

4. I will not complain and stop working to write a blog about how my pants do or do not fit. Increased productivity. Less Whining. FAT PANTS WIN AGAIN!!!!

Girls, I know you hear me.

Skinny Girls Eat Soup

It's that time of year FINALLY when I can drown my lunchtime sorrows in bowls and cups and ladles of delicious, nutritious, low calorie, high fiber SOUP!!!! YUM!!! well, it's kind of like, YUM for 5 minutes until the soup in my tummy converts into whatever it is that soup converts to when it stops filling your stomach and leaves you ravenously starving and drooling on your keyboard as you look at pop-up adverts for a $6 burger at Carls Jr.

Today's soup is from Trader Joe's...a corn and roasted red pepper bisquey type thing that is guaranteed to be worth every one of the five minutes that it will fill me up. Do you know about Trader Joe's??? It is hands down the COOLEST store in the universe...multigrain, organic, exotic, cheap food that has been tested by the employees to make sure it's good and free samples that compete competently with Costco. We're talking, double cream brie served with fair-trade grapes and tempura sweet potatos for SAMPLES, people. it's a revolution. It's a revolution that will NEVER come to Salt Lake City. Wah wah wah. So I am reduced to Portland shopping sprees at TJ's when I go home to visit the fam. I get all giddy at trader joes, the same way my dad gets giddy at Guitar Center and my mom nearly cries at a joanne's fabric and my sister pees her pants at Toys R Us. This time, I had an extra suitcase so I loaded 'er up with wasabi peas, multigrain tortilla chips, pirate's booty (don't ask), soba noodles, spinach simmer sauce, trail mix and of course SOUP SOUP SOUP!!!

Traders Joes and soup are my ticket to a smaller pant size before christmas. You know I'm not lying. Look around you...the skinny girls are all having soup for lunch.

PS.. I got an IPOD!!! a big one. It is a refurbished 20GB and it melts my heart when it plays morrissey for me.

Why I Deserve a Sports Car

I was in Florida this past week for work. Orlando to be exact. The home of the East Coast Disney dynasty. A place populated by small children running amok with fake mouse ears and funny hats. A place where you don't look twice at grown people sporting t-shirts, shorts and even shoes with drawings of crickets in top hats emblazoned upon them. The point is that the place is a tourist trap and I think I got a little bit taken.

See this red mustang convertible that I am sitting in? This was my rental car. I asked for a teeny weeny compact in the way of a Le Car or a ford fiesta. I'm what you'd call a compact kind of girl, after all. My Ford Focus hatchback or "The Go-Cart" as it is affectionately called has served me well and I have never needed more. But then they ran out of small cars at Payless Rental Cars. At least that was what they said when I went out to the parking spot where my compact was supposed to be and found a 15 passenger van with my name all over it. So they offered me a sweet upgrade...for an additional $40, I could drive away for a week in a convertible. Of COURSE I took it. And that was when I realized that I am much more of a red convertible kind of girl than I thought. OHHHHHHHHHH, the wind through my hair. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, the immigrant daylaborer catcalls. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, the bass bumping orlando radio stations. It was delicious.

I was riding high in all my coolness for approximately 2 minutes before I figured out that having a cool car does not in anyway guarantee BEING cool. I cooly drove up to the toll gate on Florida state road 353(at least I think that's the name they were calling it the moment...florida roads have at least 3 different monikers that are changed at will). There were two lanes to choose from, one that said "receipts, change" and another that said, "exact change only". I had a crisp one dollar bill which I knew would amply cover the .75 charge. And in all my devil-may-care coolness, I decided to gift the Florida State Dept of Transportation with the additional .25 from my dollar. I pictured myself chucking the dollar at the machine and cooly saying "keep the change" as I sped away. As I moved into the "exact change only" line, I realized, with horror my mistake.

If you've ever taken a toll road, you know that they have a basket into which you chuck your exact change. Some magical gnome in the bottom of the basket counts your money and then signals the bar to lift and voila! you are released onto the highway of said DOT. The gnomes DO NOT EXCEPT DOLLAR BILLS. EVER. NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT. And thus began the process of sweat and panic. Panic and sweat. How would I get out of this one? Oh, that's easy. BY GETTING OUT OF MY COOL CAR IN THE MIDDLE OF A CROWDED TOLL CENTER WAIVING A DOLLAR BILL IN THE AIR AND SCREAMING FRANTICALLY AT THE CARS BEHIND ME "Do you have change for a dollar???????!!!!" yeah. They didn't have change or if they did, they certainly weren't about to hand it over to the likes of me. Finally after looking desperate for what felt like an hour, the car behind me pointed to the toll booth operator 3 lanes of traffic over. I began my mad dash to the toll operator who obviously couldn't deal with me. I pounded on her window and finally she waved me away telling me just to go. GO! So I bounded over the 3 lanes of traffic, back to my idling car and sat with sweaty palms until the bar lifted and I was free to go. Another silly tourist in a rental sports car stealing money from the man. In a final fit of angst, I threw my dollar in the basket anyway as if to prove that I wasn't trying to get away scott free. I'm sure my bout of integrity was praised mightly by the 40000000 cars who got stuck after I jammed the machine with my honesty dollar.

Now. Am I or am I NOT a girl who deserves, nay NEEDS a sports car???

pictures pictures get your red hot pictures...

Face it...I am your internet girlfriend

This was my halloween costume this year. Last year I was a pregnant prom queen. a few years ago I was a housewife on valium. Liz pointed out that all of my costumes have a similar contempt for and ironic mockery of all things suburban. That's right. Those claw bangs are ironic mockery of the quotidian.

driving myself crazy

Quick Lunchtime blog...

Did you know that this Friday is a paid holiday???? I just found out today that friday is veteran's Day! Happy Monday Surprise...and I just got back from the subway where Sharon actually said my name when I walked in the door. Granted, she called me Karen, but hey, it was some sort of recognition of my continual patronage.

This is the good news. The bad news is that I was driving and some guy got mad at me for no apparent reason. Ok, so I guess I was driving on the left side of the underground parking road. But his anger was unnecessary. As we both got out of our cars, he was muttering "shitty, shitty driver." over and over and over as he went into the dry cleaners and I went into subway. That's a very mean label to pin on someone when the only proof that you have of their poor driving is ONE isolated negative experience and 3 dents on the left side of the drivers car and a practically detached front headlight. I mean...really.

The thing that upsets me about this is how much this upsets me. I thought to say, "angry, angry mean guy" under my breath in retort but didn't think that would really make my point. I was in the wrong. So, should I have apologized? I wanted to be belligerent. His getting angry made me angry. Why couldn't it have transpired like a mentos commercial with him handing me a roll of delicious soft and chewy fruit candy and smiling as he shook his head in amazement at my ingenuity for driving on the wrong side of the road??? Well, anyway. I guess it comes down to knowing that you are a crappy driver doesn't make it any better when a total and complete stranger points it out to you. I wish I didn't care what other people thought about me. This is a pattern for me though, so it must be something I need to work on...I was at a party friday and a friend reminded me that people don't REALLY like it when you monopolize the conversation and interrupt everyone to tell YOUR story even though the other people you are talking to probably have great things to say. UGH. It makes me just want to hide. Stay in my house and off the streets and away from other people at parties. Then no one will get their feelings hurt...me or the angry angry man that I almost killed.

blah.