A Ray of Sunshine

Today around 11:30 am I got a hankering for Lays potato chips. And for those of you who have met me, or have a literary rather than personal vestment in this blog, you know that I get irrational, fearfully powerful craving for very specific foods at very random and inoppertune times. Like the gingerbread fiasco of 2008, or the time I woke up at 4:30 in the morning and thought I might DIE without chocolate pudding. It's what I think pregnancy cravings might be like, except I am really far away from knocked up (about 9,000 miles and a 12.5 hour time difference worth) and thus spared the crutch to my dignity.

So today, on a day bursting at the seams with meetings and corporate hoops to jump through, when I had about 3.5 minutes to catch my breath and attempt half heartedly to convince myself Im not selling out to the man, today I craved Lays original potato chips. And only original Lays, with the blue stripe on the package and the salty greasy sheen they leave on your lips, only those would do.

I will spare you a description of the number of hours I spent wishing I could run down to the nearest campus eatery (it's how I show I care), suffice it to say, I remembered that I had a snack sized bag stashed in my desk. And internet, the joy, the boundless jubilation I felt when I made that realization. I tell you it reminded me of why it's good to be alive.

Another Good Reason.

The internet is down in my apartment and there isn't a damn thing I'm to do about it. The adorable college agey repair man with the cute butt said something with the signal something not being strong in the complex because of wiring and something something...I don't know, I was looking at his butt. But I digress.

When the internet is down, I cannot visit with my mistress Skype and nestle myself in her video chatting glory. Which means I cannot inter-date with a certain delicious bearded man in a certain dreary foreign country. And that limits our options of communication to telekinesis, or the land line Geoff can call from that's in a building not necessarily close to his room. That he shares with what is called a "shit ton of people" in polite society.

And when Skype, with her wiley ways cut us off midway through my description of a frightening addiction to grapefruit and how I'm thisclose to actually splitting off into deliciously citrusy sections myself, that man, that delicious bearded fellow with the awesomeness that awesomes, walked through the snow, stood in line for 30 minutes, handed over a credit card, and dialed my number just to hear the end of the story. Even though it was past his bed time. Even though it was really cold. Even though the story wasn't even that good to begin with.

Because that's how he rolls.

Cheers Big Ears.

I dont believe in New Years resolutions.

Mostly because Im so damn perfect that improvement would only infuriate and serve to mock those around me. But also because I lack the conviction to actually remember the things I drunkenly resolved to do at 12:01 a.m. on January 1st. This year I may or may not have vowed to "drink these delicious cocktails EVERYDAY". Which, depending on your lifestyle, may or may not be a viable goal.

Instead of setting goals I dont have any intention of meeting, I like to reflect on the year past and make a list of things I am looking forward to in the year to come.

And here they are, in no particular order.

-celebrating the happiness of several very important people tying the knot this year. Jess, Susan, Lauren, Ash. I know you all read this, and I wish you joy and a very happy married life from the bottom of my heart. Im also very much looking forward to your bacholerette parties.

-meeting the added challenges of my job with the experience I gained last year. I know I am very fortunate to be doing what I love, and making a difference in the lives of others. I hope to maintain my enthusiasm and create real changes to improve my programs.

-the trip to Disneyland that Iswearoneverything I will plan and execute this year. And thats not a resolution. Thats a damn ABSOLUTE.

-having geoff back from afghanistan. I cannot tell you how difficult it was to say goodbye to him, and live with the reality of where he is for the past months. I am so grateful to have the kind of relationship that can weather this deployment, and is at the same time so. worth. fighting. for.

-the release of the next Harry Potter movie. Because thats who I am.

-and last, but certainly not least, celebrating my own wedding with the people I care most about in the world. I am so genuinely excited to walk down that aisle and into the arms of that wonderful wonderful man.

G-d willing, 2009 will be one of the best so far.
And now internet, I want to hear your list.

Loot.

My relationship has a fatal flaw. Not to be dramatic or anything, but seriously. Fatal.

Every gift giving holiday I ponder and squirm and wrack my brain as to what to get Geoff. And yes, I'm aware at this juncture I should know what to get the man but honestly it boils down to one thing. I hate him. Just kidding that's not the thing. The thing is, I HATE giving practical gifts. I like superfluous, random, silly gifts that make the person roll their eyes and laugh.

And Geoff could not possibly be more pragmatic and tasteful.

This goes back a long way. For our second anniversary I gave him a toy norwhal (yes its a real animal, look it up) that could use its magical tusk to spear small animals (pre-speared toy koala and seal included). Seeing it on the shelf made me snort involuntarily and embarrass myself in public, so I knew I was on the right track.

Imagine my surprise when my sugar daddy pulls out a jewelry box containing a singularly beautiful and expensive watch that if I were to pick out any watch in the whole world it would be the one in that box. Well shit. We all know who cares more don't we?

Anyway, since then I have gotten pretty neurotic trying to get Geoff gifts that he wont try to pass off as something given to him by a retarded nephew. This Christmas I once again pondered and squirmed and wracked my brains and got him a bunch of HBO series on DVD. Because John Adams is educational and historically accurate and Laura Linney is seriously hot for someone her age. I didn't snort when I saw it, and it didn't make the guy ringing me up laugh and shake his head so I figured I was in the clear.

And this morning I headed to the UPS store to pick up what I soon discovered was a singularly beautiful and expensive leather bag. Dammit Geoff. If I cant win, I'm going to go back and see if they make any other norwhals.

Ho Ho Ho is how fat people laugh.

Internet, today I have consumed no less than 47,000 calories in baked goods that had the misfortune of being in the scope of my vortex. I obliterated a whole village of gingerbread people and without missing a beat moved right on to some rasberry fudge. Around 2 pm my jaw actually unhinged to make room for fistfuls of peanut brittle.

I would like to think that since my office is roughly the temperature of a snowmans balls, I have burned off the calories through shivering alone. But I doubt it.

A Warning

If the cafeteria here on campus has decided to stop selling goldfish crackers on a lark, then they should at least have emailed me, their most LOYAL BUYER.

If they have done so as related to an unwarranted vendetta by a certain salad-dressing scrooge, well then I say this: if you charge me $7 for a shitty salad with nary a drop of dressing, I will continue to steal fistfuls of plastic cutlery.

Take heed.

Not My Gumdrop Buttons!

All day yesterday I was fiending for gingerbread. I mean that literally. I woke up at 5:30 am (I know, I hate my life too) smacking my morning breathed lips and thinking of the spicy, ethereal goodness. I didnt think about it for the next hour and a half on account of the fact that I was trying not to throw up my lungs on a treadmill, but rest assured, the craving returned on the sweaty drive home.

I made it through the day looking at gingerbread recipes on various websites and trying not to touch myself (they frown on that here at work).

When I finally made it out of the office, I sped to the Trader Joes (Mecca) baked goods aisle. And Internet, it is a miracle I didnt tear into that package with my teeth right there in the store. I made it all the way to my car where I tore into it with my keys. Which I think is slightly more dignified.