Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Cold Lunch

Poor Christian.

It has been sort of a tradition for me to take Christian lunch everyday. Sweet, huh? Not really. It used to be sweet. I used to make some quality lunches. I’d pack some really good leftovers in separate Tupperware with fruit or yogurt on the side. If we didn’t have anything good, I’d make him some nice sandwiches. Thick slices of turkey, cheese, tomatoes, pickles. I’d sometimes even throw some cucumbers in there. The kind of sandwich where you have to open your mouth as wide as it will go to be able to take a bite.

I’m not quite sure if I can blame pregnancy for my laziness, but I’ve come full circle since then. Full circle. Think I’m exaggerating? Here is yesterday’s menu:
• An old orange I found in a drawer in the fridge (where did this come from?)
• A pile of cottage cheese a little past the sell-by date (he hasn’t got sick from it yet) next to a small spoonful of au gratin potatoes (which was all we had left—also old but no one ever wants to eat just one spoonful of leftovers unless it’s sitting next to a delicious pile of cottage cheese)
• A peanut butter and honey sandwich (honey was easier than jam—less spreading)
• A chocolate chip cookie packed in the same bag as the sandwich (much easier than bending over to get a separate bag)

The best part is that Christian actually acted excited about his lunch. He even said something about appreciating the variety. Nice try. It’s embarrassing, really. In fact, before I bring him his lunch sometimes I check to make sure no one else is working in his office that day—just to be sure no one can call CAPSA on me. Why do that and then post it all on the world wide web? I’m not sure. Hopefully it at least makes for a good story.

Well I’d better go see what I can round up for Christian’s lunch today. I think I saw a Tupperware of week-old black beans in the fridge. That will do for a start.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008


I was thinking about my wedding the other day and our trip to the Kater shop for Christian’s tux. The guy working there was probably in his mid-forties and he told us he’d give us the rundown on tuxes before we decided on a particular tux. Seemed pretty reasonable. He really was a nice guy, but he took tuxedos seriously. A little too seriously. Before we knew it, he was giving us a lecture on youth today and how they don’t know anything about traditional tuxedos. He went through all the basics of a “good” tuxedo and showed us “bad” examples. They all looked the same to me, but this guy was near tears when he explained how more and more people were ruining the traditional tuxedo.

After his four hour soap box, we started to look around for some suits—excuse me, tuxedos. I was scared out of my mind. We picked what I considered a safe, traditional tuxedo (I even checked to see that it had a stripe up the leg). Then, in an instant, Christian saw a brown suit-looking tuxedo. I liked it a lot—especially since I like brown anyway. Christian tried on the jacket (while I made sure the man wasn’t watching), and it looked really nice. I think he really wanted to get it, but I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t get the suit. I just couldn’t face the guy and tell him we had decided on something non-traditional. I’m not sure why. The worst he could do would be to sort of cluck his tongue and shake his head at us, but I couldn’t face it. Not after all we’d been through together.

Luckily Christian (who wasn’t as intimidated) decided that he liked the black one better after all. So here is a picture of what was and what could’ve been. Actually, I think I’m glad we followed tradition. If not, Christian might have ended up looking like the guy in the brown suit—scary.

So thank you Tuxedo Nazi from the Kater shop. You saved my wedding, once again.

Christian will hate me for this picture, but he never checks my blog, anyway—so I think I’m safe. Something about having to “work” all day. Weird.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

7 Months Pregnant with Strep

Actually, I don't really have strep, but it doesn't have quite the same ring if I write, "7 Months Pregnant with a Moderately Bad Case of a Cough and Achy Body with an Occasional Fever." Actually, now that I see it written, that description looks pretty decent. Really I could title this "Ode to Mothers" because I sent a casual email to my mom this morning asking a question about some of my symptoms and somehow before I had pushed the send button she had already responded telling me she was on her way and would be there in an hour and a half--pretty remarkable since she was at work and it is at least an hour drive.

I called to tried to talk to her out of it by saying things like, "[sigh] Oh I'm not SO sick [cough, cough]. I don't want to make you go to all that trouble. No really, I'll probably just sit [cough] and stare at the wall until I feel better [big cough]." Weird, that she came despite my protests. I think the big cough at the end did it.

All I can say is that she had only been here four minutes and already unloaded three boxes of food: soups, fruit, juice, vegetables, yogurt, swedish fish (for medicinal purposes, of course), etc. She also unpacked a cooler with chicken, cooked potatoes, and barbeque beef. (Oh yes, barbeque beef, a Dona Reeder trademark.) And while I sat there trying to look miserably sick (after all, she did drive all that way), she started cutting up chicken and vegetables, throwing them into a pot and turning the kitchen into a humidity heaven with homemade chicken noodle soup. It was great.

I swear she's like Santa Claus or a leprechaun or something because just as I was settling in for a long afternoon with the two of us, she disappeared. Really. She was only here forty-five minutes tops. She must have seen the bat signal or something calling her to rescue another helpless child (or more than likely my dad). I wouldn't mind being sick more often if it meant visits like this.

And how is the baby faring in all this? He's just fine, the little stinker. After I've been coughing for awhile, he starts fighting back. I think he's trying to shake me up a little bit.

Did I mention that she baked fresh rolls? They were darn good.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Out with Redbox

Though I haven't posted for almost a month, I really don't have anything to say. But I know the only way to keep my large and very captive audience coming (ummm...Daisy), I knew I needed to post something. Besides, I've set a pretty attainable standard with my blog title, so I shouldn't worry about something being postworthy.

I thought about writing about my New Year's but that included a movie from RedBox and falling asleep at around 10:15--even though we had company. So instead, I thought I'd let everyone in on a little secret I just discovered--net flix.

Now, I know that it isn't 1998 when everyone else discovered netflix, but it's new to me, and I think it's amazing. Who knew that someone wearing a uniform and driving a truck carrying letters, bills, documents, and packages could deliver a movie right to my very door and that I could return it whenever I wanted with no late charges all for only $4.99 a month*? Why didn't someone tell me earlier?

Since I discovered this, I've tried to share my secret with everyone I know. Sadly, the only person who was impressed was my 88 year old neighbor, and I don't think she knows what a DVD is, anyway. But as for me, I'm filling up my queue and looking forward to our first movie--which should be arriving today. It's called Waking Ned Devine. Never heard of it? Me neither. But as long as the nice mailman/woman delivers it to my door, I'm happy.

I also learned about another neat thing the other day--instant messaging. It's this new thing where people can message each other instantly. Neat, huh?

*$4.99 is for the one at a time/two a month plan. I'm still trying to talk Christian to upgrading to the $8.99 one at a time/unlimited a month plan. I'll let you know how it goes.