TSM Thursday 2012 Number Ten

If you can’t spell Lilly Pulitzer you definitely shouldn’t be allowed to wear it. TSM.  This bugs me.  Steph has a Burberry bag she bought second-hand.  When she first got it, I was like “Ooh, cute Burberry bag.”  And she responded with, “It’s a what?”  Why can’t I ever find nice things serendipitously like that?

That terrifying moment when you realize you’re now at the top of the totem pole in fam pictures. TSM.   Terrifying.  Although technically if you’re a totem pole, you should be on the bottom, because you’re the foundation.  But I digress here…

Sure, accents are sexy. But guys who love America are sexier. TSM.   This is where Larissa and I differ.  She talks about while she was in Ireland a couple of years ago and on the rebound, “I didn’t know if all the men around me were really cute or just had hot accents.  It was troubling.”  Meanwhile, I can’t say the same.  Sure maybe an accent is sexy.  But I’d go for a Southern accent over a British accent any day.

The ever-present conflict of wearing your cute shoes out and knowing they’ll probably get ruined. TSM.   I trip all the time, so sometimes I feel like my shoes would be safer if they stayed home in their boxes.  My poor shoes.

Buying the Olympics themed laundry detergent because it has the American flag on it. TSM.  On Monday, I decided it was time for a new swim suit.  I found an American flag swimsuit and I fell in love.  Now it is mine.

TSM Thursday 2012 Number Seven

And we’re back, TSM Thursday time.

Being excited for Easter mostly because it forces the rest of the world to conform to your joyful, sunny, pastel ideal just a little. TSM.  I adore Easter for that reason, except this year I work all day (both jobs), so I don’t even get to put on a frilly sundress for even a little bit.  I think I’ll go buy pastel ribbon or something.  But I was verbally scolded by both Steph and Larissa for searching for a purple and black sundress for opening day.  Baseball is a perfect sundress sport.  You’re outside the whole time.

My hair looks too good for this night to be over. TSM.   Sometimes this happens to me and I always find something else to do.  I’m just awesome like that.

“Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group, they’re rather stupid.” TSM.   I haven’t a comment for this except to note Rich’s continuing weirdness…  It’s extremely frustrating.  Also why is he checking in at every gym he goes to today?  It’s been an hour and he’s been to six…  He’s gotta be watching Sports Center on his couch and pretending to be productive.

April showers bring…really, really cute rainboots. TSM.   They do!  It snowed on Tuesday, so I got to break my rainboots out again after an uncharacteristically warm March.

Having my little do my hair while I type a paper. TSM.  My senior year fall formal, I had a paper due that evening, so I was finishing it up while my grandlittle, Kirby, curled and styled my hair.  I am pretty much fantastic, don’t you know?

We’ve Been More Productive Before Eleven than Most People Will Today

Oh hey, so remember how I said I would tell you about my exciting Memorial Day?

You can check another item off my bucket list, because I ran the Boulder Boulder yesterday.

I use the word “ran” a little loosely here, of course, but let’s start from the beginning.

I had planned to run with Steph months ago, but she forgot and so when she had her friends from work sign them up, and Blake, she forgot about me.  This was sad for me, but I asked Blake to sign me up later.  He did, but unfortunately, he did so in the wave behind all of them.

I asked if they would wait to start with me and all sorts of things.  Steph wanted her own run.  Blake wasn’t sure.

The night before the race, I was supposed to stay with Steph, but she ended up having family issues recently.  I called up Blake, apologized, and asked very nicely if I could stay with him and Cameron, even though they were moving that weekend.  He said it was fine and I popped on up.

The boys live fairly close to the race start, not as close as Steph’s old place, but fairly close, so Blake and I decided we would walk there.  We actually did run into Steph for a bit, but she disappeared after she had to pee.  Blake also decided he would start in my wave with me, so that was exciting.

And then at just after nine, we were off.  We were in a 90-100 minute jog/walk wave, so that’s why I say I use the term “ran” the Boulder Boulder loosely.

It was really cold that morning, and at first I was sad, but I ended up being really hot while running and it was raining and cloudy, so I can only imagine what it would have been like to run in the heat and sunshine (like Shawn’s race last year).

Speaking of Shawn, I have a small tangent while you can pretend Blake and I are running the race.  So last year, Shawn asked me if I was running the race.  I said no, I hadn’t registered, and I was taking part in my Memorial Day tradition.

“What’s that?”

“Drinking margaritas and watching the Boulder Boulder.”

“I hope you’re not gawking at me, Deidree…”  (He says this, yet tons of people go to gawk at the race.  That’s half the point of the race.)

“I’m not up early enough to gawk at the qualified runners, just the people in costumes.”  (Shawn was in a C wave–around a fifty minute race–and he runs about an 8 minute mile, in case you were wondering.)

“I guess that’s okay…”

But this year, I got to be gawked at.

I also almost ran over some children.  A woman decided to cross her children across the path of the race and had the gall to yell at me.  Since when is walking your children across a 10K a good idea?  And how is that my fault?  As a runner, it’s not my job to watch your children.  But at the very least, I have good reflexes and didn’t trip on them.

At the end, Blake and I finished in one hour and twenty-three minutes, seven minutes faster than our projected hour and a half (and seventeen faster than our hour forty).  Steph finished in an hour and four minutes (so if she runs next year, she’d be in one of the F waves).

Blake and I also decided that next year we should aim for qualifying times.  Perhaps….

The only bad thing about walking to the race was that we had to walk all the way back to Blake’s house from the finish line, after running the race, so there was that….

See, this morning, I woke up and felt like death.  When I drove her to work, my mother pointed out a bruise on my leg asking if someone had kicked me.  I hadn’t noticed it earlier.  Or any of the other bruises on my legs (and I found five more)…  But next year, I’ll probably feel like torturing myself again.  When I get back to health, I think I’ll continue running.  My problem this year was that I found plenty of reasons to not run (such as it raining), so I probably wasn’t as prepared as I should have been.

Until next year.

A Kitchenware Bouquet, or If You Give Your Yak a Yurt

So the bridal shower was a lot of fun.  Addy is an excellent shower hostess.  We played a lot of fun games and Addy taught everyone a painting technique that is pretty cool (although I just can’t paint).

I also gave Hailey the most useful bouquet she will ever receive–a kitchenware bouquet.  It had a slotted spoon, a spatula, a coffee measure, an egg separator, tongs,  two mini spatulas, and a whisk all wrapped in tissue paper and ribbons to look like flowers and then I put them all into a fun vase.  I thought it was an adorable gift.  And everyone praised my creativity.

Only the maid of honor, Addy, knew of my Crate and Barrel dilemma and that I had only wrapped the gift ten minutes before the shower.  It still went well.

Larissa took photos and once I see them, I will show you all my kitchenware bouquet.

After the shower, Addy, Hailey, Steph, our friend Rachel, and I went out to dinner at noodles.  We started talking about Rachel’s sister going to Mongolia.

“I know nothing about Mongolia,” Rachel admitted, “So I looked it up.  They live in yurts…  And they have yaks!”

“That makes a great kid’s book,” I mused, “It’s like ‘If You Give Your Mouse a Cookie’…  But it’s ‘If You Give a Yak a Yurt’.”

This sent everyone into a fit of giggles.  We also talked about how the mouse was demanding.

The Yak also received several sequels to his first book, the best ones included:

“If You Give a Yak a Yo-Yo”

“If You Give a Yak a Yetti” (everyone’s clear favorite)

“If You Give Your Yurt a Yak”

And “If  Yoda You Give a Yak, Yes…”

Addy decided she was going to design some of them and possibly sell them as prints or shirts.  If this happens, I will let you all know, because obviously you clearly want one.

A Cup of Instant Happiness with a Side of Sugar

People tend to go with life in a sort of constant state of affairs.  This is always this way.  That is always that way.

Does anything ever just make you so happy that your day instantly goes from mundane to great or bad to good?  I had one of those days yesterday.

I was at work, being bored and folding jeans because there were no customers and, well, it was pretty darn boring.  So I happened to check my phone at some random time, I forget when, and I saw that I had a text message from Shawn.  I was instantly having the best day ever.

We do talk pretty much every week, but about eighty percent of the time, I text him first.  See, the thing is, to text someone, you have to be thinking about them.  So, to see Shawn text me first, just randomly, meant that something made him think of me, and that made me really happy.  We talked about my new jobs and his school, how I was working, that he was visiting Manhattan, things we talk about normally, really.  Like I said, it’s really mundane.  But I was very glad to hear from him.  Also, I told him to visit the Justin Timberlake mosaic and the clam shaped potato famine memorial, which is a story for another day.

The other thing that makes me instantly happy is snail mail.  You know, you sort through your mail and you’re like bill, bill, ad for a restaurant I don’t plan on eating at, useless coupons, bill, credit card application, bill, bill, bill, a postcard!  I love you, postcard!

Steph and I have this tradition.  Any time we visit a new place or a landmark or what have you, we send the other one a postcard.  Even when Steph was living out in Arizona, she sent me postcards all the time when she would visit the Grand Canyon or something.

Between us, we probably have about half the United States covered, which is  pretty big postcard collecting feat.

So, on Saturday morning, there are two things that make me (and probably most people) instantly happy.

I wrote this for this morning, because I was thinking about you all.  Have a cup of instant happiness with a side of sugar on me.

And fine, here is the Justin Timberlake mosaic.  I know you all were curious.

I totally found this in the bathroom of some restaurant. Hilarious.

Are Bruises Required for Snow Bunnies?

 

This is pretty much how I felt about the entire process. I am totally sticking my tongue out.

So, I recently learned to ski on my ski weekend.  Be really excited for me!

 

We went up to Winter Park and the April weather was absolutely gorgeous.  Absolutely gorgeous.  If you were guaranteed to be standing the entire time, you really didn’t even need a jacket!  It was that nice.

I, however, wore my really ugly marshmallow puffy jacket because I was honestly guaranteed to be on my butt the entire time.  Actually, I fell a whole lot less than I was originally expecting.

The original plan was that Steph and I would go up with Dezi and his friend Anthony, but unfortunately, Steph ended up having work all weekend.  So it ended up being me and the boys again…  Seriously, I am spending way too much time with boys lately.  This is totally ruining my single girl image.  Instead, I look like one of those guys’ girls.  But that is a story for another day.  We’re talking about skiing.

So, we go up and Dezi spends pretty much the entire day with me on the runs with animal names like “Bunny Hill” or “Porcupine” or whatever.  apparently the animal names are meant to make them sound less scary.

I want to point out right now that this was my first time skiing.  I had never done it before due to some health insurance stuff when I was younger, also my family aren’t much of skiers.  And, the reason I wanted to learn how to ski is mostly because every time I end up out of Colorado, or I meet people from outside of Colorado, they always ask me “How much do you love to ski/snowboard?”

And I always have to say “I don’t know how to ski/snowboard.”

And then they say “How can you not know how to ski/snowboard?  The mountains are right there.”

And then “This isn’t South Park.  I don’t live in the mountains.  I live in a big city.  The mountains are like two hours away. (which isn’t bad, but it’s not like I can walk to the mountains.)  Also, not everyone in Colorado knows how to ski/snowboard.  I’m one of those people.” isn’t really an appropriate answer for whatever reason.

But now the next time someone asks me “How much do you love to ski/snowboard?”  I can say “Oh, well, I’m just learning actually.”  Which I’m sure will probably lead to pretty much the exact same conversation, but maybe a less verbally abusive version.

I wanted to learn to ski, rather than snowboard, is because I’ve heard skiing is better for beginners.  I also noticed that even experienced snowboarders spend a lot of time on their butts, so I figure I would start with the one where I was least likely to end up on my butt eighty percent of the time.

I fell about twenty times, except the last few of those weren’t my fault.  I was forced down a run I wasn’t prepared for and I was really wobbly.  So I blame my instructors.

I had a pretty good time, overall and I would do it again.

Oh, also I had a conversation with my mother about it later and she said “So did you spend most of your time being a snow bunny?”

And I said I did.

So she asked me why I would go up to learn and sit in a lodge most of the time.

That’s not a Colorado snow bunny.  Colorado snow bunnies are on the mountain.  I was on the mountain all day, except for like twenty minutes where I ate a muffin.

Also, I was annoyed that the food area stopped serving hot food.  I would have killed for something warm.

And, I really can’t think of what else I was going to say, so that’s pretty much my trip to learn how to ski.

The Brew Tasting Extravaganza

So, I did tell you that my weekend was really productive.  I honestly can’t begin to tell you how incredibly productive it was!

I had an interview for a new job, and I got it.  So I now work in a bakery in addition to my department store working.  I’m pretty excited and wish me luck.  The bakery is delicious, so I may end up eating a lot of food.  We’ll see.  And I think the manager already likes me a great deal, so I am so so excited.  I’ll let you all know how it goes once I start.

I also spent a lot of this weekend working on number fifteen on my twenty-four before twenty-four list.  I didn’t actually get to go on the tours because I only know my schedule two weeks in advance and at least one of these breweries books months in advance for their weekend tours.  The others, we just didn’t get an early enough start to be there in time for the tours.  But, we’ll for sure be going back some time in the summer before I leave for my summer job, so I should be able to give you a full report then.

However, the point of going on the brewery tours is less to tour the breweries and more to taste the beer.  So even though it’s not as exciting as doing the tour too, we did go to a few brewery tastings.  So while it’s not the full-fledged tour/tasting, I think just doing the tastings counts in the spirit of number fifteen on the list, which is to learn to appreciate beer, even if I don’t like it.

Anyway, let me tell you about my weekend.  My friends Seth and Vinny accompanied me, along with two of Seth’s friends in the area.

We started off at New Belgium.  You only get four tasting tokens if you’re just stopping by (you get six for the tour), but four was great, because if you’re not a beer aficionado, like me, then you’ll be able to get your feet wet without trying one too many you don’t like.

The tasting room here was so crowded.  It’s one of the more popular (and larger) breweries, in my understanding.  We did find a pocket in which we could chat, Seth and Vinny could recommend me beers, and I could write postcards.

That was pretty awesome.  They have postcards you can write on there and then they’ll send them for you.  I wrote one to Shawn because I thought he would appreciate it and I also wrote one to Steph because we do things like that all the time.  I don’t think I’ve told you all about our postcard collection.  I’ll have to do that at some point.

So, on to the beers!

The first beer that Seth and Vinny recommended to me was Mothership Wit, an organic wheat beer.  It was really tasty.  It had a hint of orange.  It reminded me a lot of Avery’s White Rascal (which Shawn loves), only less yeasty.

Next, the boys recommended Trippel, a Belgian style ale.  It wasn’t as good as the Mothership, but definitely something I would drink again over other beers I tried that day.

After that, it was getting close to the time we wanted to leave and head to the next brewery, so I double fisted my next two beers, which were Sunshine Wheat and Sahti Ale.  Sunshine was pretty good, not as good as the Mothership, but something I would get again.  The Sahti was interesting.  Almost pomegranate tasting.

All things considered, the beers at New Belgium were great recommendations and I enjoyed them a great deal.  Here are some pictures.

Mothership Wit

Trippel

Sunshine Wheat and Sahti Ale

 

So the next brewery was ODell.  We missed the tours here simply due to timing.  The tasting room was pretty busy and we had to sit outside.  It had been a pretty nice day up until this point, but it was getting a bit chilly.  We did get to enjoy a Classic Pilot flight and a Co-Pilot flight (so punny), so there were beers to be had.  I forget how much each flight and the pint cost, but it was $17 total, so not as free as New Belgium.  I don’t remember the names of all of them, but I can tell you my opinion.  Here’s a photo.

 

Classic Pilot and Co-Pilot

 

From left to right on pilots: (Classic)  Pretty good, pretty good, okay, gross, eh, gross and (Co) gross, gross, pretty good, gross, gross, gross.  And the big glass was interesting.  Not great, but not bad, but not quite okay.  I don’t know what to tell you about it.

 

And the last brewery of the day was the Fort Collins Brewery.  This was probably the most spacious tasting area of the three and only $5 per flight, so that was nice.  We got both flights they had here and I don’t remember the names again, because I suck at that, apparently, but I am still happy to tell you my opinion.  Here’s a photo.

 

Fort Collins Brewery

 

The back flight is the seasonal brews (left to right):  gross, eh, pretty good, gross, okay

The front flight is full-time brews (left to right):  okay, pretty good, okay, okay, tasted like BBQ (what?), eh, gross

And yup, that’s pretty much my brew tasting experience.  I had a lot of fun, other than being the only girl in the group, but that’s neither here nor there for the actual tastings.

Let’s see where our next brew tours take us.  And, like I said, I know we’ll definitely be back for these ones some time in early summer, so there’s at least that.

Why It’s Hard to Lose a Friend

There’s a point when you get used to people being around all the time.  It’s inevitable that at some point, someone is going to be such a big part of your life that even if you don’t see them every day, even if you don’t talk to them every day, that you definitely need to know that they’re still fine and doing well.

This is how I feel about Allie, my Big, Kristin, Melissa, Shawn, and now Blake.

These are people I spent so much time with that it’s always a bit strange to have them gone.  But, I know they’re okay and that’s really the difference.

But what about people like Keith?  He’s in the same state and I never see him anymore because not only did he go back to his boyfriend, but said boyfriend also hates me and won’t let Keith see me.  Keith, who I shared everything with for eight years, is someone I never see.  I got so used to having him around for eight years…  Except I don’t know that he’s still fine.  I don’t know that he’s doing well.

I just know that he’s back with the same person who really hurt him.  Even though I was there for him for years, someone who hurts him and claims to care about him is better?  I don’t understand.

Other people we care about are our pets.  When my first fish, Pearl, died, I bawled for two days.  Then, I got his step-brother.

Last night, Steph had to put down her pet rat MoMo.  Earlier in the year, she had to put down his brother Eddie.  The little ratties have been there with her for years now.  So it’s hard to see them gone.

RIP Momo and Eddie.

This Intimidating Lady

So I was out for Saint Patrick’s Day with Blake  and Seth, because everyone else decided they couldn’t possibly go out on a Thursday.  Not even for Saint Patrick’s Day…  When did I become the alcoholic in the group?  I need everyone I hung out with in college back.  Steph would have come, but she was at Cam’s father’s wedding.  I’ll gloss over the fact that planning your wedding on Saint Patrick’s Day (especially when it’s not your first and it’s a Thursday) is a bit weird, and simply state that she’s forgiven because it was a more important commitment.

Anyway, later in the night, Seth and I met up with my friend (through Larissa) Dezi.  He was in a much bigger group than mine, but I don’t know if the bigger group really matters.  Blake had gone home to sleep at this point.  He was almost to the point of everyone else, but at least he came out.

So, while Seth and I were hanging out with Dezi and friends, Dezi, some of his male friends, and I were talking about March Madness.  All men…  and I…

I was talking a while ago about Larissa’s flirting habits and I mentioned that all I have as a manly interest is college football.  That’s not quite right as you’ve now heard me go on and on and on about March Madness.

I love college sports.

I love them with so much devotion and support even if the teams I like aren’t the most nationally recognized ones.  College sports are about unwavering fandom.  Fair weather fandom is for the truly uninvested.

So you can imagine my surprise when one of Dezi’s friends interrupted our March Madness discussion with “Well, this is intimidating.”

Dezi and I both stared at him, so he elaborated, “The person most vocal about the tournament is a pretty girl.  It’s intimidating.”

This is where it gets confusing to me.

Larissa’s manly interests, which are often portrayed as exaggerated lies, are seen as cool or hot.  Her exaggerations attract men to her.

Meanwhile my very real and legitimate love of college football, well all sports, but mostly college football is either ignored or brushed off.  Something I never lie about seems to turn men off.

Does it have nothing to do with being a turn off?  Is it really just intimidating?

I don’t think I’m intimidating at all (or not any more than a girl who claims to wield a gun, drive a cool car, and play a mean game of Halo all while drinking beer and all in one day).

I have a lot of faults.  Like my incessant rambling.  Or my perpetual state of being five to fifteen minutes late because I want to look absolutely amazing.  Or my overly emotive hand gestures that knock drinks over.  Not to mention all of my “grass is greener” insecurities.  And I could go on and on and on about these things.  And this doesn’t even get into the weird stuff, like my need to step on planes left foot first.

My point here is, I’m not intimidating.  I’m normal.  Just plain ordinary normal.

So if men find me intimidating, here is what I want to say to them.

Dear men,

I am not intimidating at all.  Here’s why:

I have to step on planes left foot first to conquer my crippling fear of crashing.  I ramble more than anyone you have ever met.  If I tell you I have a story, you better have at least twenty minutes to devote to it (more if it’s a long story).  Sometimes I think way too much before I process everything I want to say and I want to get it out, so I just start blabbering on, only to realize ten minutes later that there’s a Mexico, New York.  I like college  sports.  My favorite music also includes bubblegum pop from the nineties.  I like to play tennis and go running; I’m also not very talented at either.  I have a bad habit of running late, overestimating available time, and underestimating arrival time.  I over pack for everything.  I will borrow your clothes and you may never see them again; you’ll have to prepare for that.  Sometimes, I wake up looking like a raccoon in the mornings.  I love cheesy things like mini golf and bowling.  When something is really, truly funny, I will laugh about it for twenty minutes… at least.  I expect people to keep their plans, or have a good reason for canceling/rescheduling.  If different parties’ adjustments to these plans conflict, I will go out of my way to make it convenient for everyone (even at an inconvenience to myself).  I want to travel the world, but I don’t really have the time or money right now.  And I’m secretly (or maybe outwardly) terrified of ending up all alone because all my friends are getting married…

So as you can see, even though this is a short list of my quirks, it’s a notable one.  And one that proves I’m hardly intimidating.

I’m one of the friendliest people you will ever meet, so just walk up to me.  You’ll at least enjoy talking to me.

And you finding me intimidating hurts me more than it hurts you.  You probably have no idea…

Work on that.

Sincerely, Deidree

The Vegas Date

So you’ve heard a bit about Blake the engineer.  He’s leaving the state for work soon, although later than Steph and I originally thought.  So last weekend, we had a going away dinner and bar hopping for him.  The rest of the engineers passed on joining us, which was probably for the best.

Steph/Blake/Deidree may have welcomed the other engineers (and my sorority sisters) into our group with open arms, but it started as Steph/Blake/Deidree.  So if Blake was leaving, it should end as Steph/Blake/Deidree as well.

So we went out to eat at a fabulously tasty Mexican and margarita restaurant.  And you wouldn’t think that it should qualify as a margarita restaurant, but their margaritas are famous.  So yes, “margarita restaurant” is appropriate.  While we were there, we discussed Vegas.

See, the unfortunate thing about my current friend group is that it is composed of people who, if they convert their salary pay to hourly pay, make about $20/hour.  If you compare that with my minimum wage, it’s kind of sad…  Not that I would ever make $20/hour as a teacher either, but at that point, it’s not really about the money.  I do need money to get there, but this is about Vegas.

So, I kept pushing the road trip, but there is a downside to the $20/hour, my engineers don’t get a lot of vacation time, definitely not until at least August, and not enough for a road trip.

But, they told me that if I was worried about the plane ticket (which I was), they would help me.  I really love my friends.

Steph had one condition, though: we had to be the type of people who would dress up and do Vegas.

She had gone once with our friend Renee and Renee’s boyfriend at the time.  The two of them did not want to dress up and would go in whatever they happened to pack for going to lunch or something.  (I haven’t gotten that far in the Montreal story, but it’s the difference between what you’ll soon hear me describe as “enough clothes to go out in upstate New York, but unacceptable for going out in Montreal.”)

Steph calls it the difference between going to Vegas (Renee and her ex-boyfriend) and doing Vegas.  “Deidree, you’ll dress to the nines for the heck of it.”  This resulted in an “oh please” gesture from me (actually, she’s absolutely right).  “And Blake, you’ll do what we tell you to.”  He just shrugged and nodded.

This was the point when Blake and I made a pact, with Steph as the Vegas commissioner.  We all agreed that we wanted a drama free Vegas.  So, because of that, Blake and I would be Vegas dates.  And Steph’s boyfriend Cam would come, obviously.

The only amendment to this was if we both had significant others at the time of the Vegas trip, that they would also join us.  One, or none (obviously), would result in the upholding of the previously made Vegas date pact.

This trip is going to be awesome.

And, because it’s Tuesday, head on over to Diary of a Woo Girl for a Mardi Gras summary.