Monthly Archives: October 2009

Quirkyville Quirks: Yes, you can wear a Wonder Woman costume to work

Someone actually found my blog by googling, “Can I wear a Wonder Woman costume to work?” I’m not sure if I’m really the best person to be taking professional etiquette from, just so you know….but I did today.

So, this is how the morning played out.

 I got up. Usual time. Showered, make-up (but luckily remembered that Wonder Woman does not wear glasses so put in contacts.)

Also, my shelf in the bathroom medicine cabinet decided to come tumbling down due to a peg that fell out somehow. So I slipped and tripped over my deodorant and since the lid fell off when it landed on the ground, I got deodorant all over my foot.  Loverly.

Then I went in my closet and pulled out my costume. I put on the pantyhose and then the elastic  star- print bottoms.

All right. They are panties, but I don’t want to say I put on panties to go to work. That’s just…wrong.

Then I woke up the fiance to help me get into my corset. He groggily got up and I informed him I was kind of running late so if he could snap, snap, you know, come over and tie me in, that would be great.

I got it over my head and he started lacing.

And lacing.

And tightening.

And re-lacing.

It just wasn’t working at all. He’d get the top tight enough so that my chest wasn’t hanging out, but then, it would come loose as he moved his way down the corset.

He was getting mad.

I was sweating bullets.

I was late, half-dressed and now sweaty.

He was tired, not dressed and trying to figure out the mechanics of a corset.

It was a hot mess.

15 minutes later, I was sucked in and “modest.” He let Gertie out and went back to bed. I threw on sweats and a hoodie and ran out the door with the rest of the pieces for my costume in a bag, almost forgetting to grab my pumpkin cheese ball that I made for our office party.

15 minutes into work, I was dying.

I couldn’t breathe. I felt so constricted by the tight corset. I wondered how women in the 1700’s survived. They certainly didn’t eat. Or breathe much.

I made it through our office work party where I showed up in full gear — wig and all, and then changed out of the corset in time to enjoy our potluck lunch.

Much. better.

Also, it was kind of weird to wear spandex panties at work…

So, can you wear a Wonder Woman costume to work? Yes, but I don’t really recommend it. If you like to eat, breathe and show up on time.

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It’s not spam. It’s the lunch bunch.

Every day an e-mail hits my inbox somewhere between 11:30 and 12:30. The subject line reads something like – Thursday Lunch Bunch.

There are about 12 people copied on the e-mail, but do not be mislead. This is no spam. It’s 12 of my favorite people who love to click “reply to all,” and have the ability to turn even the blandest of Mondays into a giggle fest. Who knew lunch could be so funny?

I have mentioned them here before, particularly Kevin, who is probably the biggest character of the group. You also may recall Fry Fest, our annual celebration of all things fried. And I do mean all things.

To help you better understand the quirks of this group, I put together some common LB terms and definitions.

Lunch Bunch – a group of 12 friends who respond to a daily e-mail asking the simple question, “what did you have for lunch today?” The group was created by Jay, but has taken a life of its own. Members live in Kansas City, Des Moines and Cleveland.

 Iowa State Fair – The act of eating anything fried on a stick. Must be done with members Dorothy and Jay. A topic of conversation long before said event even begins, as Dorothy’s lunches get leaner and leaner weeks prior. She has to be in prime shape for this event.

 Fry Fest – The act of said 12 friends in addition to a few other stragglers getting together to fry anything and everything. The weirder the better. More important than the event of Fry Fest is the activity of chattering about it during the daily Lunch Bunch e-mail.

Jim – Partner of Kevin. Should never ever be copied on any mass Lunch Bunch e-mail. Does not have time for reply to all insanity that often results during a particularly fun Lunch Bunch day. Otherwise, a perfectly delightful fellow.

 Run for the Border – Not the annual trip to Mexico made by Kevin and Jim. More like a semi-daily trip by member Sheila to Taco Bell. Often times, the border is only as far as her fridge where she has stored goodies from the previous evening’s border run. [We worry a lot about the nutritional intake of Sheila, but she looks great, and her odd Taco Bell diet seems to work for her…]

 Creepy – Any item of food that has either been sitting around for a few extra days, is off-color or just plain off. Creepy food is completely acceptable to eat, but one must disclose the creepy level of his or her food.

Blackberry lunch assault – A dangerous device, allowing any lunchbuncher to share lunch commentary from anywhere. Member Paul is often guilty of blackberry lunch assaults and sometimes includes phone photos of lunches he enjoys (rubs in) during his work travels all over the country (And Canada. We hate him.)  QoQ would never ever stoop to this level….

 TG’s – The initials of the place of worship, er drinkage where several members of Lunch Bunch first met. Also a popular destination on Wednesday nights and formerly known as too many names to list in this definition. It’s just that place we go sometimes.

 Buddig – A type of deli meat, sold in individual packages. Often eaten without bread along with string cheese by member Dorothy who lives in Des Moines. I’m thinking Iowa is not getting a good food rep with this group…

 Cookies – A necessity at the end of any good Lunch Bunch member’s meal. May sometimes require a special trip to retrieve. Acceptable substitutions: cake and brownies.

 Ella – Adorable toddler daughter of  stay-at-home and expecting mother Toni. She often shares in Lunch Bunch by default of having had the same lunch as her mom. Or, vice versa. Toni is the only member who has ever included “juice box” on her lunch reports.

 Jay’s Office – Must be the most fun place on the planet to have lunch. Member Robin works there and member Paul often brings lunch there when he’s not traveling. Secretly, the rest of us kind of hate their little club. XOXO.

 9 p.m. – The time at which we usually receive an e-mail about member Ellen’s lunch. We’re not sure when she eats.

 1 p.m. – The time at which Kevin shares the delicious dinner he is fixing and rubs in that he is enjoying a cocktail while some Lunch Bunchers slave at their desks. [Kevin has recently moved to Cleveland with Jim and is studying to be a massage therapist. Since he started school a few weeks ago, we haven’t heard from him as much lately. We’re not sure if they are having TV dinners for meals or what.] 

 Spam – The most disgusting substance on earth, but often a subject of the Lunch Bunch. We are currently in two camps – love it v. hate it. Guess which camp I fall into…

Intrigued? Disgusted? A little bit of both?

You’d be a great fit. We occasionally allow new members. I’m just sayin’.

 

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I went to the DMV today and I didn’t implode

Aren’t you proud of me?

Begin rant:

So, my title from North Carolina arrived in the mail yesterday. For the second time.  After I paid taxes from 2003 and skirted around having to get an emissions test on the poor thing. (A tax assessor in Wilson County, NC was very kind in helping me wade through some of that red tape. Of course, he was kind after I gave him $100 in back taxes, but still. I’ll take it.)

My title also arrived around this same time last year (I am still not sure why the 2003 tax issue didn’t come up then, but we are dealing with state government and I went through a different department in order to get a title loan off of it, so maybe that explains it.), then I took it to the Kansas DMV to have it transfered over and complete my 2008 registration and they freaking lost it. With no record of ever having had it.

Bbbbut, I handed it to you and you said you were going to send it off to Topeka.

Nope, don’t have it. Never had it.

Well, um, how did I re-register my car last year?

We don’t know.

They called me a liar. They made me feel like a fool, but it’s close to be all over now.

Because I have my title back. (Note: the Kansas DMV made me feel so crazy that I wondered if I had ever had that title in my hands last year at all.  Like maybe I just imagined it? So when I called to get yet another copy of the title, I asked the people in NC if they sent one to me last year. Yes, they did. See? I’m not crazy.)

mwah ha ha…(maybe a little?)

Anyhow, we’re not messing with Kansas this year. Nope. We are going straight to Missouri.

We, meaning me and the crazy people inside my head that the DMV brings out.

I went to the Kansas DMV today (hence the title of this post) to secure printed records  that taxes have been paid on the car since 2007. I walked in, calmly asked for what I wanted and got it.

I just don’t understand why these entities make it so hard to pay for your stuff. That’s really all I want to do. I have X% of the value of my car ready for the first state that will take it and call it taxes, but somehow it’s not that easy.

At this rate, the poor old car is probably going to kick it before any state gets a cent of money.

rant over.

The good news is that I have taken Monday off to spend time with my future new friends in Jackson County. Maybe if all goes well, I can enjoy part of the day. And if all goes poorly? Well, let’s not go there…

 

 

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Staples

I used to think cooking cost more than some out-to-dinner meals.  And when I first started cooking regularly, it did.

And that sucked.

But as my cooking became more habitual, my ongoing supply of staples began to pay off.  Soon, recipes became less and less costly as I already had flour, chicken broth, onions, garlic, parmesan, pasta, brown rice, black beans, crushed tomatoes …. on hand.

I’m still not really good at finding that balance of having fresh veggies stocked up. Although, you’ll rarely find me with out a few mushrooms lying around. (This being one of those times, as I recently had to toss a sad baggyof them…)

I’m really curious to hear from foodies what items of food they absolutely must have at all times. What foods do you feel naked without in your pantry?

Last night, DD Girl came by for an impromptu girls’ night. She recently dropped out of the fiance’s D&D group to free up some of her weeknight time. I found it slightly comical that despite her decision, she landed right back at our house, where the boys were about to start their weekly game.

Before the boys arrived, I was rummaging through my pantry to find something to whip up. I had kind of planned on re-heating the amazing Smoky Chiopotle Chicken Tortilla soup I made on Monday night, but DD Girl does not do spicy so I just threw that baby in the freezer for a later day.

“Well, I got starch, starch and more starch.” I told DD Girl.

Lots of pastas, sauces and breads, but very little protein or veggies. Secretly I was angsting over my lack of black beans. I never let my black bean supply dwindle!

Black beans are my super secret single food. You know, that food item you like to make and devour in mass quantities when no one is looking…I simmer them with onions, cumin and crushed red pepper and then douse them with cheese and sour cream. Sometimes I skip a spoon and use tortilla chips to scoop them into my mouth.

Wow, I just shared that. Moving on.

I opened up my freezer and found a bag of frozen spinach.

hmmmm….

Onion, garlic, olive oil, white wine,  risotto,  chicken broth spinach and parm…sounded like the makings of a delicious dinner to me.

A Queen of Quirky staple special.

I’m so glad I have conquered my risotto-phobia. Because it’s really easy. And so tasty. It’s amazing how creamy risotto gets even before you add any cheese. Should I ever develop a dairy allergy, I’m going to drown in risotto.

After we gobbled our spinach risotto down, we moved upstairs so the boys could play downstairs. It was so silly to be sitting on my bed, watching TV with a friend. It felt like high school or an elementary school slumber party. (Sans wine.)

It didn’t seem right to leave Gertie on the floor. So up she went.

And she made herself quite at home.

And I might have had a mini twit pic frenzy. 

Just a little over the top.

I stopped there because the doorbell rang (and Gertie had to go check it out.) We were  joined by Roomie who just stopped by to fill us in on her sister’s wedding (Ok, she also brought me her share of the rent check, but I like to think she would have come by anyway to see me.)

 So there we were, all four of us on the bed, (Gertie eventually jumped ship. It got a little crowded.) wine and great conversation.

Later, after everyone left, I thought to myself, it’s really nice to have staples in my life.

But I really need to get some more black beans.

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To my visitors on the quest for a Wonder Woman costume

Or, to the girl who wanted “a costume her boyfriend would love.”

Welcome. A lot of you have been visiting my site looking for the perfect Wonder Woman costume.

Wonder WomanWell I have one, but I didn’t make it myself.

Meet Holly. She’s the beauty, brains and talent behind this fabulous costume.

I just put it on and suck in my gut a lot.

Oh, you wanted it to wear for Halloween this year?

Silly girl. Not even a superhero like Holly can make that happen at this late hour.  But if you plan in advance, you can have the Wonder Woman costume of your dreams in time for next year’s party.

Meanwhile, I hope you’ll enjoy my blog. It’s pretty quirky around here.

And, if you are still with him next year, I know he’ll like this costume.

For those not on the Wonder Woman bandwagon, tell us your Halloween costume this year.

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Where the Wild Things Are – an adventure in imagination but a leap for this girly girl

Some might have considered me a wild child. I had a crazy imagination and a LOT of energy. If my childhood friend Bess is reading this, she can vouch for the crazy stories we used to concoct with our dolls as props.

I also didn’t need a partner in crime. I was quite content to play in my room by myself with just me and my imagination.

I thank my parents for limiting TV and encouraging reading that gave me such a playful and imaginative spirit.

The other day, I was running through my neighborhood and there was a little girl outside in her front yard. She was maybe 8, 9? (Hard for me as a non-parent to tell these things.) But she was in full play mode, talking to herself and instructing imaginary people? animals? to do things with her. At first, I thought. Wow. What a weird little kid.

Um, hi kettle. Pot here. Black much?

That little girl was me 20+ years ago.

So when the fiance and I went to Where the Wild Things Are, I could kind of relate to the weird little kid with the wild imagination.

Only here’s where I stopped connecting. While Max’s imaginary fantasy world played out with dirt fights and big monster piles, my world would have been a little cleaner, less physical.

 I am all about a big fort with lots of rooms and tunnels. But my rooms would have little kitchens in them and my tunnels would be swept.

We would build large swings that would fly up over the fort for fun.  Not dirt fights. In fact, the less dirty the better, and no rough and tumble.

I hate the fact that my imagination was so driven by sexist stereotypes. I don’t know who to blame for that one. But it’s just who I’ve always been. I never liked sports. I never liked being messy or getting dirty.

So it was hard for me to see the appeal in Max’s fantasy world. But the monsters were adorable and Max was enchanting.

It was wild but heartfelt. Even if it didn’t play up to my girly-girl sensibilities,  it’s always good to take a look at the world through another pair of eyes.

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Quips from Quirkyville: Potty Mouth

Fiance: I moved the trashcan in the bathroom to a new spot.

QoQ: Ok. (Unsure why he needed to move the trashcan or why I should care.)

Fiance: (Felt the need to explain further.) I had a problem with the toilet paper.

[Where the trashcan sat prior to the move, the toilet paper roll was right above it.]

Fiance (continues) I mentioned it to you before that when you used the toilet paper, to make sure it doesn’t droop down into the trashcan.

[I have no recollection of said conversation, but maybe I have a selective memory.]

QoQ: (Trying not to giggle.) Ok, but you know, that dispenser is really lose. You tug a little and you get a lot!

Fiance: (proudly) Well, no matter because I moved the trashcan. I didn’t want trashcan toilet paper on my butt.

QoQ: (erupting into giggles.) Problem solved then. And, um. You know this is going on my blog, right?

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