Friday, February 03, 2012
Have You Ever Been To A Turkish Bath?
In preparation for submitting Erik the Swede's green card application, we're going through a list of questions that he has to answer.
You know, just... standard ones.
"Do you intend to engaged in the United States in espionage?"
"Have you EVER been a member of the Communist Party?"
"Do you plan to practice polygamy in the United States?" ("Of course not!" says EtS, looking shiftily in my direction.)
"Have you EVER ordered, incited or committed acts involving torture or genocide?"
And my favorite:
"During the period from March 23 1933 to May 8 1945, were you in any way associated with either the Nazi Government of Germany or any organization or government associated or allied with the Nazi Government of Germany?"
Of course, then we had to look up what exactly happened on March 23, 1933, to make it so special. Apparently it was when good ol' Chancellor Adolf Hitler established his dictatorship. Thanks Wikipedia!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
In Other News, I've Created Fire
Erik the Swede and I are in the process of moving into our new apartment. It has... pretty much reduced us to an animal-like state. Or maybe cavemen-like. So we're dirty, because we don't know where our shower products are packed, and we're hungry because we haven't made it to the store yet and the only food in the house is a piece of steak Mom gave us from their dinner (like feeding tiny starving woodland creatures -- "Oh, sweetie, go get our leftovers, they look so sad and hungry!") and three overripe bananas. And we keep having to come up with creative means to do things, because modern tools are unavailable to us. Yesterday I came back from work and our new bookshelf was completely set up and standing in the corner. EtS, lacking a hammer, had apparently put it together by banging the nails in with the bottom of our saucepan. Way to engineer, EtS!
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
I'm Sorry To Hear That Your Love Life Is Insane
So Erik the Swede and I are kind of haphazardly trying to pick our first-dance song, since our actual song (you know, the one that we think of whenever we have to think of The One Song That Just Belongs To Us) isn't really suitable for a reception.
And being the researchy person I am, I was all "Hey! I'll do a Google Search!"
Wow, kids. I'm having a hard time finding a song that fits the theme of "We finally got together after years of way-across-the-ocean dating, and also he's Swedish."
On the upside, I have found numerous lists devoted to the following queries:
What are some songs about wanting to be together?
What are some songs about fighting for your love?
What are some songs about convincing someone to be with you?
What are some songs about sleeping with your ex-boyfriend?
What are some songs about being in love with your boyfriend's brother?
What are some songs about being in love and apologizing after you took it too far?
What are some songs about being in love but knowing it's wrong?
What are some songs about being in love but being ignored and hating it?
What are some songs about loving female soldiers?
What are some songs about anti-military love?
What are some songs about being in love with your friend but she thinks of you as a sister?
God bless the internet -- how did anyone find anything out twenty years ago?
Thursday, December 15, 2011
But Do We Really Want A Purple Summer?
n00bie!r00mie and I went this evening to a performance of Spring Awakening, which she had never seen before. (Terrible, but true!) We had been planning on lying about our current student status and getting discount tickets, but no subterfuge was necessary, because due to being the first ones there we were asked to usher, which granted us free, first-row seats. Never one to turn down things that start with the word “free,” I ushed like it was my job, and absolutely no one was left milling around unable to find their correct spot prior to the performance. Good job me!
I do really love the musical—it’s all full of drama and angst and more drama and more angst and some extra angst and a side of angst. However, it will never be “RENT for the next generation!” Or maybe it is, and I’m just really out of touch with the current generation? Seriously, though, I love RENT with all my heart and soul, and for all that there is no way in hell I will ever be living the bohemian, drug-addled life of a squatting New York artist, those songs spoke to a very deep, visceral part of me. I identified with the sentiments that the various AIDS-ridden, impoverished characters were singing. Seize the day, kids! Live each moment like you’re about to keel over! YES!
But there’s a difference between a group of nineteen-and-up adults, who for all that they’re making poor choices and potentially not living up to their full potential, are at least... living each day the best they can.... between them and a group of horny teenagers who spend their entire time on stage whining about how they can’t trust anyone over the age of eighteen, manipulating one another, and raping their more innocent peers. Rape, guys. I don’t care that she says “yes,” if she doesn’t know what a penis is, she isn’t mentally equipped to consent. MELCHIOR IT IS HER BODY HER CHOICE YOU SICK BASTARD!
...
Anyway, in summary I’m not sure where I was going with this particular rant. It was a lot of fun, and I’m going to be humming songs about masturbation all night, which is a shame, because I’m also trying to proof for +bookstore+ and the two things don’t really mesh all that well together.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
The Bronx Is Somewhere... We Haven't Found It Yet...
Toi, Pomme and n00bie!r00mie decided to to have a crazy girl weekend at Pomme's, as she lives in a Large City and thus is closest to things that crazy girls would want to do on a crazy girl weekend.
We've been here for about 24 hours. Let's run down what we've accomplished so far.
5:00pm -- Pomme still at work. n00bie!r00mie not yet managed to find a parking spot for her car. Toi and I busy watching Parks & Rec.
6:00pm -- n00bie!r00mie not yet managed to find a parking spot for her car. Toi, Pomme and I busy watching Parks & Rec.
7:00pm -- n00bie!r00mie meets us at a restaurant for dinner. Chicken club wraps and water consumed by all.
8:00pm -- Train ride to the grocery store. Purchased dried apple slices, avocados, chocolate bars, Diet Coke, bagels and Nutella.
9:00pm -- Everyone lounging while watching Parks & Rec. Toi and I reading "Game of Thrones" and "Riddle-Master of Hed," respectively.
11:00pm -- Everyone lounging while watching Downton Abbey. n00bie!r00mie consuming small amounts of pineapple rum.
3:00am -- We all pass out with Downton Abbey still playing in the background.
11:00am -- Everyone drags themselves out of bed. Resume watching Downton Abbey. n00bie!r00mie breaks out a box of Kix. Pomme makes coffee.
4:00pm (ie now) -- Parks & Rec back on. Toi making guacamole.
And... that's as far as we've gotten.
But don't fear! There has been serious discussion about Going Out For Dinner. And who knows what kind of wacky hijinks we might get up to at that point?!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Let Nothing Be Wasted
Mom and I were standing in my room (which is newly cleaned -- apparently I have a floor!!) discussing this and that, when she suddenly realized that we will be going to my Grandma and Grandpa's next week for my bridal shower.
Mom: Oh, that's in just a few days! I haven't gotten you a present yet!
Me: Mom, you don't need to get me a present....
Mom: No I do. I do. What will I get you? Hmm. Maybe I could give you the mixer.
Me: The mixer that you gave me for my wedding? The surprise mixer?
Mom: Is it in your storage unit? I'll need your keys....
Guys, this bodes ill. My mom is a great one for reusing, and if she starts deciding that she can bring back the mixer as an all-purpose gift until my actual wedding, I'm going to be in trouble. ("Shit. Your birthday is coming up. Monica, you remember that mixer I gave you for your shower and for Christmas?")
In other news, my Emma Frost costume was brilliant in every possible way. You should have seen me. Equally Gorgeous Co-Worker outdid herself--she not only made my boots and refitted my corset, but she somehow convinced my wig to stop looking like the bastard lovechild of Donald Trump and Dolly Parton, and actually be fairly presentable. Clearly her mutant power is Awesomeness.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Not Really A Bad Romance...
ERIK THE SWEDE GOT HIS VISA!
I AM THIS MUCH EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, October 21, 2011
This Plan Is Doomed From The Start
Friends. I have somehow been convinced by Enviably and Equally Gorgeous Co-workers that out of all the possible X-Men characters -- because that's what our group is going as for Halloween -- that out of all the women of the X-Men, really the best option for me would be to go as Emma Frost.
Yup, Emma Frost.
Emma.
Frost.
Okay!! I can do this!!
So in preparation, I have purchased the loveliest blond wig, which I have named Lola.
Behold her in all her glory, atop my disco ball:
Now I want you to know that I spent a reasonable amount of time trapped at the costume store, dodging children picking out vampire fangs and teens picking out everything from slutty nurse outfits to slutty fireman outfits, in order to find exactly the right style of wig.
Lola, according to the packaging, is supposed to make me look like this:
Rather unfortunately, Lola actually makes me look more like a Transvestite Donald Trump. But Equally has promised that she'll help me beat it into shape, as soon as she's finished sewing my thigh-high boot tops.
Sunday, October 02, 2011
When The Bombshell Hits, I Get Epileptic Fits
As often happens, a discussion with my mother about the town of Marion, Indiana prompted the following incredibly urgent conversation, which I have transcribed word-for-word for your reading pleasure.
::: phone ringing :::
Roomie!Ann: Hey! Haven't talked to you in a while!
Me: Roomie!Ann. Thank God. Okay, it's 1967.
Roomie!Ann: Uh-huh.
Me: And we're both men.
R!A: Yup.
Me: And we've both been drafted.
R!A: Gotcha.
Me: So could I count on you to go in front of the draft board, with me, to claim that we are in a homosexual relationship and thus unfit for duty?
R!A: ...
Me: We might need to make out. I'm not sure what they require for proof.
R!A: ...
Me: Why are you hesitating?! Do you want to get sent to 'Nam?!
R!A: Monica, why?
Me: ROOMIE!ANN DO YOU HAVE MY BACK!?!?!?
R!A: I... yes. Yes, I would. Um. Yes.
Me: Oh thank God. I knew I could count on you. Okay, I have to go. Prohibition is on.
::: click :::
Phew. That was a close one. I didn't want to have to hack off a trigger finger with a diamond-tipped granite-cutting saw.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Je Suis Désolé, Dave.
In an attempt to spiff up my TomTom, I decided to download some new voices, so that I could be directed to my destination by the dulcet tones of Captain Jack Sparrow himself.
Unfortunately, apparently not having access to any of the software from my hand-me-down GPS meant that I needed to troll the seedy underbelly of the internets for these downloads. And when I attempted to actually put the new voices onto the machine... I somehow managed to wipe all the available languages (namely English, English, and more English), leaving me with nothing but French, which is what the machine was set to as I was messing with it.
...
It's not as big a handicap as you would think. TomTom, now renamed ChouChou, is quite a bit less irritating when he's speaking to me in a foreign language. The only real problem is that I'm never quite sure what he's telling me to do. This is not so much an issue when I'm navigating my own town--it becomes slightly handicapish, though, when I'm trying to get to places outside of my native soil.
Me: Where to now, ChouChou?!
ChouChou: Après six mètres, tournez à gauche.
Me: Turn left! Got it! Next!?
ChouChou: Suivre la première sortie.
Me: First exit! Okay!
ChouChou: Vous devez rouler plus vite, ou vous ne ferez pas le tour.
Me: Wait, what? What turn?
ChouChou: Rechercher les homme au chapeau jaune. Allez où il vous dit d'aller.
Me: The who in the yellow hat?!
ChouChou: Je ne peux plus vous aider. Initier la séquence d'autodestruction.
Mom keeps threatening to get me a new GPS, but I sort of like the constant thrill of not knowing where the hell you're being directed. It's like an adventure every time!
