Pasta. Fail.
I have no parmesan cheese. I mean, what’s the point.
Almost a waste of caving to the pasta gods. Almost.
On the upside I made tofu. Sautéed with onion and garlic and then covered in two cans of diced tomatoes and one can of tomato paste for a cheater’s gravy. Simmered for 30 minutes. And then made tri veggie pasta (counts as one serving of veggies!) to continue to justify the health angle. An then realized all my parm is in San Jose. All two large containers. Son of a bitch!
Substituted in some melted provolone but…I miss the grittiness o parm.
Le sigh.
OMGOMGOMG I’ve been meaning to make these and pass them out to the assholes on my street!! Only I’ll make them bigger. And I’ll have to have one side in English, one side in Spanish. Just to be crystal clear.
And then my life becomes a horror story
Sometimes, they have to clean our bathrooms at work. I appreciate it, I really do. But that means we have to hop on the elevator and ride up to the third floor to do our business. No big deal. There’s not really anyone inhabiting the third floor though and at first you feel like you’re in the luxury suite of bathrooms because it’s completely empty and you can go as crazy as you’d like in there…but…then my imagination wanders to some horror movie scene I’ve kept archived, like in Scream 2 where the guy gets stabbed thru the side of the bathroom door, or maybe someone’s hiding in the corner stall or I’m going to come out and some killer man/beast is waiting for me. You know, something horrifying like that.
And then I proceed to get that panicky feeling that I get when I get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and I start thinking about whether or not I believe in ghosts or whether that even matters because something is potentially going to be chasing me down the hall, so I speed up and do everything all nervousy and jittery and start slamming into doors and breathing fast…these are the times it miiiiight be funny to have a camera around filming me. Plus, if there are camera guys there then the demons can’t catch me, right?
You think you know but you have nooooooooooooo idea. #True Life.
How to get Rachel Zoe's wavy hair
I don’t remember where I first found this, hours ago, but I just watched it and I’m DYING for my hair to grow out. And I can like, smell the hairspray. I love the smell of hair and hairspray. File under Laura-isms. I like the smell of gasoline too.
Le sigh. <popping my hair/nail/skin horse pills>
I want my bangs back. I also want my hair to grow to my elbows.
I’m getting my bangs back soon. The growing of the hair is a longer, more patient process…but I’m dealing.
25 years later, my worst fear came true.
When I was five, I hated summers in New Jersey for one main reason: my hair turned into a lion’s mane.
Yes, I have curly hair. Yes, this can be filed under first world problems.
Curly hair combined with humid summers can only equal disaster. And bless my mother for sitting down all of her daughters and braiding our hair every morning (No More Tangles by Johnson & Johnson was a household necessity) and listening to our complaints.
The top two complaints were:
1. ”I look like a dinosaur” when our french braids were too poofy on top.
2. ”I look like a lion” when the frizz couldn’t be tamed enough and just framed my head much like a lion’s mane.
Well, the “I look like a lion” fear is the one that came true today. I have a co-worker who likes to tease me about my hair because I’m always dying it, straightening it, pulling it back some different way, etc. Lately I’ve been going back to basics and letting my curls rule the world again and my hair has been going back to it’s full kinky glory.
Well, today, my beloved co-worker proclaimed, ‘you look like the lion who was in Yellow Brick Road’ (um, you mean the Wizard of Oz?). And there it was. My fear. Sitting atop my head. Full mane glory.
And you know what I was okay with it. See that. Take that fear!! I’ve learned to embrace myself after all these years.
On the flip side another co-worker said curls make guys think of kinky things, so there’s that.
HB got the iPhone 3gs
We hate him now. I’m stuck with the 3g that freezes and takes 10 minutes to get online.
As a former blackberry user he’s now also the newest victim of the AutoCorrect. He just text me “Beanbag” I have no idea what that could have meant.
Ahhh yes, welcome to the iPhone :)
August 13, 2011
I will be eligible for my upgrade. For my phone.
OMGITSONLYONEMOREMONTH!
I’m jealous cuz HB is getting a new phone today.
I’m going for a new iPhone, one I will not drunkedly lose. I just want an iPhone 4, for cheap. I know, I know, first world problems.
Some people also take “running errands” very literally—run to grocery store, take bus back, run to work, take bike back, etc.
I’m a walker, first and foremost. I’m trying to get into this biking thing…HB is a big promoter…one of these days I’m going to start biking back and forth to work and not even have to pay for the light rail…
Sadly, my biggest debate is to shower before the ride or once I get to work? It’s only like a 20-30 minute ride…stay posted.
