I might have two sets of measuring cups all ready, but these are just groovy. I really feel they speak to my inner chef. And did I mention I have a birthday coming up….
…and you could wrap it in any of these….
This word search may be small but it contains the names of 37 different colours. How many can you find? Look horizontally, vertically and diagonally. Ooooohh, something to avoid working…
N W A F Y E R G O L D
B E I G E V U A M E O
L Y R E B M A E R C L
U N S R O S E U F R I
E A E H N L Z M F U L
D V P C Y A N B U B A
A Y I O P T T E B Y C
J T A L N E E R G R K
E M I L O A L E M O N
T P U C E L B A S V I
N W O R B K H A K I P
Because it is a bastion of journalistic integrity, I religiously read Glamour magazine. Occasionally, there’s a section featuring women and their heroines. Nine times out of ten, the woman picks her mother. While I love my mother and whole heartedly admire her ability to put up with having not one, but two, adult children move back in, I always thought a heroine should be somebody not related by blood. After all, there is only so much a person can do to ensure the continuation of free rent and/or remaining in the will…
When I was little, Princess Leia Organa was my heroine. Granted, Mary Poppins gave her a real run for her money, but Leia’s calm while in the belly of that big wormy thing in the third Star Wars movie was the real deal to an eight-year-old. Princess Leia was resourceful, calm under pressure, and even managed to kiss Harrison Ford. Impressive. In middle school, I was all about Brenda Walsh. I loved Brenda because she could be more devious than Kelly Taylor, stood up to her moralizing father, dated Dylan and put up with a goody-goody sibling. To this day, I will argue that Brenda got a bad rap. She wasn’t a diva, a drunk, or a nut job. No, she was just the high spirited one in a world of Walshes. Hillary Clinton won my admiration in high school. Honestly, I’m not sure why. Maybe it was our shared a love for the headband. Today, I look to my immediate surroundings for my icons. While the list of women I admire is long, one really stands out: my friend Laina.
Laina’s one of those people who is herself. For good, for bad, and even when I want her to shut up because she’s crushing my fantasy of living a tiki hut with Heath Ledger, she’s Laina. For solid advice or to hear the hard truth, I can go to her. She’s good for everything from “the hair cut looks terrible” to (MOM, skip this part) “dump him, he has a small wanker.” (MOM, I told you to skip that part!!!!!!) When I need a friend to share a bottle of Pucker or to teach me about life outside of the outer belt, she won’t let me down. Yet, of all people, I never expected Laina to teach me about love.
During the time I’ve know her, she’s always loved her husband (and she’s trained him well—he has the best phone manners). Yet, that’s nothing too extraordinary. I know lots of people who love their spouses, even when they aren’t as telephonically suave as Laina’s husband. When her son made his appearance our last year in law school, I wondered when Laina would stop talking about him incessantly. Apparently, a mother’s love is stronger than the trauma of caring for an infant during the bar exam. Laina still glows when she talks about her son and he’s the anchor of her world. I couldn’t imagine what she would be like today without him, let alone who she would be if she hadn’t gone through the waddling, fat, cranky pregnant lady stage. But the thing that makes Laina so amazing is that she (and her husband) made the decision to try to adopt a child.
While I’ve watched her deal with this process, I’ve often wondered if she was insane or the best person I know, or a bit of both. There have been the physical things involved in all this: extensive paperwork, home studies, and endless phone calls. It’s a time suck of the first order and that alone would have been a deterrent for me. But I think the emotional aspects are even worse than nine months of being knocked up, plus labor, multiplied by infinity. A weaker person (like moi) couldn’t do it. Each time a potential child crosses her path, she gives them a piece of her heart. Many times, she’s put her capacity to extend love to the ultimate test. When each potential adoption doesn’t work out, it’s just that much worse. But she sticks with. It seems like Laina’s been trying to adopt forever, and I’m only a spectator. By rights, Laina should be an emotional sludge pool by now. I guess they don’t come any stronger than her. She’s persistent and the Will of Laina has got to pay off in the end.
The child that eventually ends up in her home will have my heroine for a mother. A loudmouth, smart ass, opinionated woman. A person of integrity and honesty and the unique ability to eat a Cinnabon in a single gulp. A lady with a boundless heart.
Good luck, Laina.
So, those annoying “Me! Me!” e-mails? Since they encourage procrastination, I’m game…
Name seven things in your fridge: Not currently having a fridge to call my own, I will wishfully look back to when I had my own place in order to answer this…A gallon of skim milk (which will invariably go bad), ketchup (my condiment of choice), cheese (several varieties in constipation causing quantities), beer (all Sam Adams Light, which will sit there forever, and only be consumed when I get laid off), butter (the real stuff, which is great for baking), diet coke (can’t live without it), and leftovers (which I will not eat).
When was the first time you went abroad? How old was I when we moved to Jordan? I have no idea. Suffice it to say, I was young, and it was far away. Now ask me all the places I’ve been and we’ll be here for an age…
Who were the last five people to send you a spam message? Barnes and Noble, Nordstrom’s (shoes!!!!!), Borders, Poverty Barn, and somebody who has a misimpression about my anatomy.
If you were a type of cookie, what type of cookie would you be and why? I would be a Thin Mint, ‘cause nobody in their right mind could resist my chocolaty goodness. If not that, then my Baba’s chocolate chip cookies. They are the best; better than your grandma’s. It’s the extra special Baba love she bakes into them.
Describe your best friend using only Madonna song titles: Like A Prayer, Causing A Commotion, Lucky Star, Fever, Vogue
What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever seen a kitten do? Ummm…Bionic Kitty she has a new Best Toy in the Entire World: the unopened tampon. She will find them, no matter where I hide them, and carry them around in her mouth, purring. She then starts to attack them until the wrapper opens. Suddenly, it’s Kitty Christmas! She has a wrapper to pounce and a stringy thing to try to eat. Hours of amusement.
So, this book called The Secret Language of Sleep just came out. I thought I would find out about myself and did the quiz to find my “pose.” Here’s what it had to say:
Toboggan Traits and Tendencies: Tobogganeers are always one step in front of their peers; they’re first to buy a house, first to microdermabrate, first to spend more than a thousand dollars on a rug. Yet in their rush to get ahead of the curve, Toboggan couples sometimes find themselves racing in two entirely different directions. If they don’t check in frequently to make sure they’re both on the same track, they can grow impressively far apart, and it can take a great deal of painful maneuvering and many late-night talks before they reconnect once again.
Comfort Zone: Toboggan is a Sun Sleeper pose. Other Sun poses a Tobogganeer might enjoy include Big C Little c, Classic Spoons, and The Heimlich.
A Note About Feeding: Tobogganeers have two modes: fed and calm, and unfed and frantic. To prevent bickering and other erratic behaviors, always keep the pantry and glove box well stocked with a supply of crackers and spreadables.
Find your own pose!
Every desk should come with an Atomic Bonzai Kit for those long hours of procrastination.
If the description says (insert word), it really means…
Quaint: Decorated by the owner’s recently departed mother. Doilies are a bonus.
Recently Updated: Yeah, in 1975.
A Steal: It’s so cheap because muggings, rape, and murder are all possible neighborhood social events.
Fully Furnished: Yuck. What are you thinking??
Large: In this context, a synonym for small.
Luxurious: It is in a development and the luxury includes a coin operated laundry onsite that operates at the bargain price of $2 to wash and $2.50 to dry, a “full gym” complete with one set of 5 pound hand weights and somebody’s grandmother’s first exercise bike, and a lake filled with geese that use cars for toilets.
Efficency: You won’t fit if you have a shoe collection.
Campus Area: Um, riots, hello…
Brand New: Rent is triple what the equivalent space next door goes for.
No Pets: Bastards. Who doesn’t want Bionic Kitty?
Extremely Rare: Because the housing commission condemns places like these, and just hasn’t gotten to this one yet.
Maintained: A place of squalor, arguably used by the last tenant as an opium den or house of ill repute.
(Any direction) of (any neighborhood): The boondocks. Anticipate at least a 40 minute commute.
Save $$$: By putting your life in jeopardy by living there.
Bargain: Rent recently reduced, but landlord sadly still smoking crack.
Spacious: Because all the closets have been taken out.
Retro: Exposed wiring from 1943 that screams “Fire Hazard!”
Only Rental I Own: I used to live there, and I got the hell out for a reason…
That’s the only possible explanation for her sprinting to the bath mat, tunneling under it at full speed until it starts to move with her, and then proceeding to run around the bathroom at full tilt with the bath mat covering her entire body, while she bumps into walls, the toilet, the box of tampons I left out, the scale (which she howls at), and the wall again. She does this every morning. Repeatedly.