Friday, February 27, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Fat Tuesday
All hail the paczki. I am not Catholic, nor do I "give up" anything for Lent and I'm darned well going to eat meat on any Friday that I choose. But the one thing in which I do participate is the consumption of paczki. They are pretty much a glorified jelly donut with loads of powdered sugar, whip cream and just about any kind of filling you can think of. I just got done consuming half of a strawberry one and half of a buttercream one and I feel like I am going to vomit but it was so worth it.On another note, it always amazes me how you hear NOTHING about anyone being Catholic during the course of the year; Then Lent rolls around. All of a sudden everyone and their mother is freaking out because "Oh my gosh, it's Friday and I can't eat meat!!" and "oh, I gave that up for Lent" and blah blah blah. I'm convinced that half of these people are just doing it because it's the "trendy" thing to do. I have family friends who are Catholic and I actually hear them mention every once in a while throughout the year about going to mass or serving and those kinds of things so I know they are legit. For all you other wankers out there suddenly claiming to be "Catholic" every time Lent rolls around, I'm pretty sure God knows what's up. And I'm pretty sure he's ashamed. And I'm pretty sure God doesn't even really like Catholics...
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Random musings
My mom and I went to Wendy's yesterday for lunch. While we are standing in line to order, I hear this clipping noise behind me. I turn around and this guys is CLIPPPING HIS NAILS IN LINE. I kid you not. My mom asks "Is he CLIPPING his nails???" and I said "yes" and then we proceeded to giggle uncontrollably. Are people really that gross???
Trainings for jobs or anything else should really be limited to a couple of hours or so. Sitting in the same chair in the same room for seven hours straight looking at a PowerPoint presentation has to be considered some kind of cruel and unusual punishment. Although, it does allow you to get a lot of pondering done...you know, grocery lists, what's on tv tonight, what I'm having for lunch and dinner, the state of the country, world peace, things like that.
People are getting knocked up here at work like it's going out of style. I better keep my legs crossed.
Trainings for jobs or anything else should really be limited to a couple of hours or so. Sitting in the same chair in the same room for seven hours straight looking at a PowerPoint presentation has to be considered some kind of cruel and unusual punishment. Although, it does allow you to get a lot of pondering done...you know, grocery lists, what's on tv tonight, what I'm having for lunch and dinner, the state of the country, world peace, things like that.
People are getting knocked up here at work like it's going out of style. I better keep my legs crossed.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
"My biological clock is broken"
I came across this article on CNN.com and I agree with 99% of it. It made me laugh a little. The only part I don't agree with is the running part. I actually enjoy running and I'm pretty sure running and having a kid have very little in common.
By Colleen Kane
(The Frisky) -- I'm smack in the middle of my thirties and about to get married. For some childless women my age, this is tick-tick-tick time. However, while other women may be intimately in touch with their ovulation cycles, I'm in no hurry to have kids now, if ever.
My old man and I have talked about it, but we're both horrified by how much our lives would have to change -- not to mention how big a pain in the ass kids are for, oh, say, 18 years.
We have two starter kids: dogs. Sometimes, they drive us bonkers. They give us joy and a lot of laughs, but when we travel, as we often do, they complicate our plans.
Actual children, what with their need for food more than every 10 hours (or whatever it is that you're supposed to do with little humanoids), and their ability to talk, scream, and cry, would be far more painful at travel time.
Or, say, at 4 a.m. time, and all those other ungodly hours they pick to start needing things.
Then there's the whole nine months business. The older I get, the more I'm grossed out by pregnancy.
If I'd found myself madly in love and in a stable relationship as a younger woman with less experience and a steady income, I probably would have gone for it. But now a lot of the gory details make me shudder.
"But it's great!" we're told by new parents. Amazing. "Best thing that ever happened to me," they say.
Sure, they have to say that -- to recruit more new parents into the club, so they have someone to talk to about their kids. I'm sure it is life-changing, heart-expanding, and all that good stuff. Maybe I'd want to do it someday.
But it's like how I feel about running. Runners always foam at the mouth about how great running is, how you get in shape, the bonus of getting a runner's high. I bet it is invigorating as hell and super-healthy to boot.
But I hate running. So you're not going to see me doing it -- unless I'm being chased by a pack of fast, blood-thirsty zombies.
I don't want to rule anything out absolutely, but if I'm comparing having children to being chased by a pack of zombies, it's probably not the right time to start planning a little treasure in my belly. And that's OK by me.
By Colleen Kane
(The Frisky) -- I'm smack in the middle of my thirties and about to get married. For some childless women my age, this is tick-tick-tick time. However, while other women may be intimately in touch with their ovulation cycles, I'm in no hurry to have kids now, if ever.
My old man and I have talked about it, but we're both horrified by how much our lives would have to change -- not to mention how big a pain in the ass kids are for, oh, say, 18 years.
We have two starter kids: dogs. Sometimes, they drive us bonkers. They give us joy and a lot of laughs, but when we travel, as we often do, they complicate our plans.
Actual children, what with their need for food more than every 10 hours (or whatever it is that you're supposed to do with little humanoids), and their ability to talk, scream, and cry, would be far more painful at travel time.
Or, say, at 4 a.m. time, and all those other ungodly hours they pick to start needing things.
Then there's the whole nine months business. The older I get, the more I'm grossed out by pregnancy.
If I'd found myself madly in love and in a stable relationship as a younger woman with less experience and a steady income, I probably would have gone for it. But now a lot of the gory details make me shudder.
"But it's great!" we're told by new parents. Amazing. "Best thing that ever happened to me," they say.
Sure, they have to say that -- to recruit more new parents into the club, so they have someone to talk to about their kids. I'm sure it is life-changing, heart-expanding, and all that good stuff. Maybe I'd want to do it someday.
But it's like how I feel about running. Runners always foam at the mouth about how great running is, how you get in shape, the bonus of getting a runner's high. I bet it is invigorating as hell and super-healthy to boot.
But I hate running. So you're not going to see me doing it -- unless I'm being chased by a pack of fast, blood-thirsty zombies.
I don't want to rule anything out absolutely, but if I'm comparing having children to being chased by a pack of zombies, it's probably not the right time to start planning a little treasure in my belly. And that's OK by me.
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