a message

This weekend, I came home from the gym to find this:


At least it wasn't a shoe.

Why didn't I think of that?

Y comes home almost every day complaining about how so and so in his class has never heard of [insert historical political figure here]. I usually nod, agree with him, head straight for Wikipedia, and spend the rest of the night feeling stupid at my lack of knowledge, so humor me for a minute while I pretend like I'm smart:

Anyone who knows me can vouch for my tendency to get bossy when it comes to grammar. It's a random habit -- I'm not really a perfectionist in any other aspects, but stick an apostrophe where it doesn't belong or misuse a homophone and you will most definitely hear about it from me.

And him.

That sounded menacing, right? Right? Well... it's not exactly true. Unless I'm close to you, I won't point out your mistake. I'll probably just post about it on my blog. To be honest, there isn't enough time in the day to rectify all of the spelling and grammar errors on signs and buildings around here. While in DC, staying on Georgetown's campus, I climbed onto a campus bus and saw a sign that said something like this:

To ensure your safety, please watch your step as you climb aboard the bus.

My heart almost stopped -- not only was the sign written in a complete sentence, the ensure/insure homophone had been used correctly! A sign at home (on our not-quite-as-prestigious-as-Georgetown campus) trying to convey the same message might have looked like this:

watch "STEP" on bus

Don't even get me started on the random quotation marks. Y snapped this picture the other day, just because he knew it would make me mad. So romantic:


The reason I bring this up: I just found an article about a guy who traveled around the United States correcting errors on signs, (apparently, he didn't find an excess of mistakes in any one part of the country, which I find hard to believe) and wrote a book about his adventure. I have three thoughts on this:

A) That is awesome.
B) Why didn't I think of that?
C) They'll give anyone a book deal these days, won't they?


Anyone else out there have a pet peeve that they get overly sensitive about? My other pet peeve is the sound of someone eating a banana. GROSS.

Joan Rivers is Amazing.

CTFD, twitter.

on gifts and (monocles)

People think Y and I are odd. For starters, we enjoy driving across the country. We bake our own pizza dough. We carry reusable bags to the grocery store, which has attracted the attention of every employee at SuperTarget and pretty much made us ST celebrities. We don't celebrate Valentine's Day. (Or Christmas, for that matter, and if I had a nickel for every person that's said to me, "Wait- since you're Jewish, does that mean you don't celebrate CHRISTMAS?")

I say this because it seems like every married blogger I follow is showing off their 1 year anniversary gifts. I wanted to play, too, but I felt like I needed that disclaimer. Unless of course, it's perfectly normal to receive a card shaped like Michael Jackson's white glove.

Not that the card isn't one of the top five gifts I've ever received (#1 being Samantha).

Sorry, Y, none of your gifts could top my velvet-hat wearing, pink coin purse toting, Victorian friend. (Just so you know, I wrote that sentence before I found the picture. I have Samantha's accessories memorized.)

The shiny glove's purpose was to commemorate the 1 year anniversary of not only our marriage, but the two weeks we spent driving around Ireland, unable to escape from the endless Michael Jackson tributes (the Irish took it much harder than we did).

We exchanged gifts at 2:30 a.m. after our anniversary, after we got home 4 hours later than expected from New York (thunderstorms in Dallas, 2; DandY travel plans, 0). Since I was practically delirious at that time, I'm not sure if I ever properly thanked Y for his gift, and would like to do so now in our favorite mode of communication.

As for my gift to Y, I made him letterhead...which he had actually asked me to do months ago. I guess it ruined the effect that my first anniversary gift was actually a long procrastinated favor.

When I showed some friends my design to get some opinions on my "manly letterhead" (FYI: Googling "manly letterhead" for stationery inspiration doesn't work), one said she could imagine Y sitting in a big leather chair, smoking a cigar and writing a letter on his letterhead with a quill while Ike sat at his feet wearing a monocle and a top hat.

How funny that she said that, because we love to imagine Ike in that getup -- we're pretty sure that's his alter ego. In fact, when Ike was a puppy, Y even made this:

Y has yet to use his Manly Letterhead, and for his next guest post on this blog, I propose he tell me why via http://www.bureauofcommunication.com.

Samantha picture source: babble.com

north-sick

When we went on our vacation to New York and DC, I realized that other than the constant energy, the H&M on every corner, and the fact that you could eat at a different restaurant every day for the next ten years, there was another reason I loved being out of the South: everyone was rude and no one wanted to talk to me.

Yes, I just listed rudeness as a positive, right up there with the availability of cheap, cute, Swedish clothing and Indian takeout. You have to think about it from my perspective: I am AWKWARD. Every random stranger that asks me how I'm doing is just another opportunity for me to make a fool out of myself -- so I'd actually just prefer if they didn't ask.

Not to mention the pressure I feel, having to ask every single stranger how they're doing. And the disappointment when, time after time, I just hear "fine". That brings me to my next point: why ask someone how they're doing, when no one in the history of time (I've done research) has ever said anything other than "fine" or "good, thanks"?




Also: politeness wastes time. Imagine this scenario, it happens to me daily: you're approaching a 4-way stop. Another car approaches from the opposite direction -- for the sake of accuracy, we'll say it's some kind of large truck with some sort of confederate flag paraphernalia. Perhaps like this:


This vehicle gets to the stop sign a full three seconds before you make your full stop. Even though they have the right of way, they wave you through. This throws you off, since it's not your turn. So you wave them through frantically, because you (okay, fine, me) are OCD and can't handle when the flow of traffic is disturbed.

The other driver is clearly offended that you didn't appreciate their polite gesture, and waves you through again, just as frantically. You both hesitate. Finally you think, "Okay fine, I'll just go" and start to inch forward. Without fail, the other driver has that thought at the exact same moment. You take turns lurching forward until one of you takes the plunge, ending your epic 4-way stop battle, and you (okay, me again) end up being 10 minutes and 7 seconds late instead of just 10 minutes late.



Phew. Can you tell this is a sore subject for me?



I appreciate the effort, South, but I propose we set some rules. First of all, there should be no politeness in driving, other than when I need you to let me in your lane. Secondly, if you don't know me, there is no need to know how I'm doing today because surely you don't want to hear about how my dog rolled around on his back on top of a dead rat in the backyard and then barfed on the couch (true story). And finally -- this one is the most important -- if a girl is wearing heels, you must be within 5 feet in front if you plan to hold the door open for her, because we both lose when you've committed and have to hold the door open for a full minute while I run-walk across an entire room in 3 inch heels and inevitably faceplant.

Look at this cat.

Hey.

See this cat?


oh hai.










Well, it totally looks like my favorite sweater from the 90s.


i also enjoyed pogs.

Rabbit, rabbit!

Due to some unforeseen circumstances that have kept us busy -- including a 29 page paper for me, a month of saving kids for Y, and an entire bag of pressed bones for Ike -- we've neglected to fill you in on the happenings around here. But fear not. Ike hasn't done anything funny, so you haven't missed much.

Okay fine, except for that time he tried to eat 3 bones at once.



And, while we're on the subject, I guess the time he smiled while watching tv with Y was kind of funny.



Oh, and that time he got stuck between our backdoor and pint-size dishwasher. By the way, good job, kitchen designer. Really nice setup you've got here.

Yes, I took a picture instead of helping him. But then I helped him. So it's okay.

Also, I guess Ike's summer foray into bug chasing is kind of cute.



As is his tendency to build forts while we're gone.

But, really, you didn't miss much. Nonetheless, there will be more going on here during August since I have no schoolwork (and Y can hold off on saving children a few days a week to say something ridiculous charming for me to blog). However, when Ike starts getting creative to get me to play with him instead of blogging... I might have to oblige.