Friday, December 31, 2004
Daniella’s Year In Review
NOTE: This is the longest post ever. I hate myself.
I’ve already given you my resolutions (per his instructions, I am adding that I want to have drinks with MT to that, by the way). Now it’s time to revisit 2004 as seen through the eyes of Daniella:
January 2004:
1. Daniella turns into her mother.
2. Daniella attends her very first blogger party. She has fun, but double books because she erroneously assumes all other bloggers would be total nerds.
3. Daniella experiences SAD.
February 2004:
1. Daniella goes home for the weekend.
2. Four innocent people are shot during a Mardi Gras parade on Daniella’s old corner. Not a “corner” like a streetwalker, guys. On the corner where I used to live. Geez.
3. Daniella is reminded about her friend’s suicide. This really is the hardest post I ever wrote.
March 2004:
1. Daniella goes home for a marathon wedding planning session. There are tears.
2. Daniella does the Red Carpet in La-La-Land. Hollywood will never be the same. Here are pictures.
April 2004:
1. This month is all about Jazz Fest. See Daniella pick out her food. The trip report, with pictures, is here.
2. Daniella can fit into her skinny jeans!
May 2004:
1. This creation has a home of its own: DaniellasMisadventures.com is born. Now with a lot of pictures that I couldn’t post before on the free site. This is a big month in the Life of Daniella.
2. Ken eats cheese.
3. Daniella meets Dick Wolf. Dick Wolf survives.
4. Daniella gets a NJ license. The apocalypse is upon us.
5. Daniella hires a housekeeper. Does this mean I have to act like an adult?
June 2004:
1. Daniella goes to Boston. Boston survives.
2. Daniella and Mike Wolf get blind stinkin’ drunk and embarrass themselves and each other. (not really, mom, I swear!)
3. Daniella survives her parents’ visit and plays in a soccer tournament.
4. Daniella goes to DC. DC, likewise, survives.
July 2004:
1. Daniella co-host her first blogger party. The transformation into nerd is now complete.
2. Daniella gets up close and personal with Prince.
3. Daniella meets Kara and they live happily ever after. As friends, you nitwits, as friends!
August 2004:
1. Al-Qaeda targets Daniella’s office. Daniella tells them to fuck off. Later, it is revealed to be old information used by the Bush people to take focus away from the Democratic Convention.
2. Daniella can fit into her leather pants. Watch out, NewYork.
3. Daniella is happy. Happy is Daniella. I’m sick of writing this damn post.
September 2004:
1. Daniella goes on her Girls’ Weekend and has the bestest time ever.
2. Daniella has a dance lesson and there is nearly a murder.
3. Daniella goes to yet another blogger party. Oh my god, she is such a nerd!
4. Daniella nearly gets into a fight.
October 2004:
1. Daniella gets married and goes on her honeymoon.
November 2004:
1. Daniella nauseates everyone with her we’re-so-in-love posts.
2. Daniella is thankful. She also survives another parental visit.
3. Daniella’s husband tests the in-sickness-and-in-health part of their vows. On her birthday, no less.
December 2004:
1. Daniella goes to MoMa and gets a black eye. Not at the same time.
2. Daniella goes to Connecticut. Once again, Connecticut survives.
Ok, that’s it. Have a great New Year’s Eve, everyone.
NOTE: This is the longest post ever. I hate myself.
I’ve already given you my resolutions (per his instructions, I am adding that I want to have drinks with MT to that, by the way). Now it’s time to revisit 2004 as seen through the eyes of Daniella:
January 2004:
1. Daniella turns into her mother.
2. Daniella attends her very first blogger party. She has fun, but double books because she erroneously assumes all other bloggers would be total nerds.
3. Daniella experiences SAD.
February 2004:
1. Daniella goes home for the weekend.
2. Four innocent people are shot during a Mardi Gras parade on Daniella’s old corner. Not a “corner” like a streetwalker, guys. On the corner where I used to live. Geez.
3. Daniella is reminded about her friend’s suicide. This really is the hardest post I ever wrote.
March 2004:
1. Daniella goes home for a marathon wedding planning session. There are tears.
2. Daniella does the Red Carpet in La-La-Land. Hollywood will never be the same. Here are pictures.
April 2004:
1. This month is all about Jazz Fest. See Daniella pick out her food. The trip report, with pictures, is here.
2. Daniella can fit into her skinny jeans!
May 2004:
1. This creation has a home of its own: DaniellasMisadventures.com is born. Now with a lot of pictures that I couldn’t post before on the free site. This is a big month in the Life of Daniella.
2. Ken eats cheese.
3. Daniella meets Dick Wolf. Dick Wolf survives.
4. Daniella gets a NJ license. The apocalypse is upon us.
5. Daniella hires a housekeeper. Does this mean I have to act like an adult?
June 2004:
1. Daniella goes to Boston. Boston survives.
2. Daniella and Mike Wolf get blind stinkin’ drunk and embarrass themselves and each other. (not really, mom, I swear!)
3. Daniella survives her parents’ visit and plays in a soccer tournament.
4. Daniella goes to DC. DC, likewise, survives.
July 2004:
1. Daniella co-host her first blogger party. The transformation into nerd is now complete.
2. Daniella gets up close and personal with Prince.
3. Daniella meets Kara and they live happily ever after. As friends, you nitwits, as friends!
August 2004:
1. Al-Qaeda targets Daniella’s office. Daniella tells them to fuck off. Later, it is revealed to be old information used by the Bush people to take focus away from the Democratic Convention.
2. Daniella can fit into her leather pants. Watch out, NewYork.
3. Daniella is happy. Happy is Daniella. I’m sick of writing this damn post.
September 2004:
1. Daniella goes on her Girls’ Weekend and has the bestest time ever.
2. Daniella has a dance lesson and there is nearly a murder.
3. Daniella goes to yet another blogger party. Oh my god, she is such a nerd!
4. Daniella nearly gets into a fight.
October 2004:
1. Daniella gets married and goes on her honeymoon.
November 2004:
1. Daniella nauseates everyone with her we’re-so-in-love posts.
2. Daniella is thankful. She also survives another parental visit.
3. Daniella’s husband tests the in-sickness-and-in-health part of their vows. On her birthday, no less.
December 2004:
1. Daniella goes to MoMa and gets a black eye. Not at the same time.
2. Daniella goes to Connecticut. Once again, Connecticut survives.
Ok, that’s it. Have a great New Year’s Eve, everyone.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
Priorities
I try not to get too political because that is not the focus of this blog, but some things just have to be said.
The Bush administration is spending more on his inauguration celebration than they have pledged to the tsunami relief effort.
I mean, our Cowboy-in-Chief does have his priorities, right?
I try not to get too political because that is not the focus of this blog, but some things just have to be said.
The Bush administration is spending more on his inauguration celebration than they have pledged to the tsunami relief effort.
I mean, our Cowboy-in-Chief does have his priorities, right?
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
New Year's Resolutions
I looked over my post on New Year's resolutions from last year (click to read here), and, oh my, was I unhappy this time last year. I can't believe how much my life has improved in just one year. Those of you who have been reading all this time probably could have told me that, but I didn't realize how much my outlook was colored by loneliness last winter.
This year, I have so much for which to be thankful, my resolutions are much more fluffy.
I have a bunch of great friends up here; a bunch of great friends at home in New Orleans; the means with which to travel to see them; an amazing family; a comfy, warm apartment; a job that I like that pays me a very nice salary; happy, healthy pets; a pretty blissful homelife; and the warmest, kindest, sweetest man in the world for a husband. And I had a spectacular wedding and honeymoon, and best of all, it's over, and he and I can get down to the business of building our life together.
So, with all that good stuff, what's left for a girl to resolve?
Well, as usual, I resolve to be more patient in all aspects of my life, but especially in dealing with John. It is not necessary to point out that "I could have done that much faster" or "that you move at half-reality speed." Learn to shut up, Daniella.
I resolve to understand that not everything has to be done my way or controlled by me. I do not run the world (yet!) and some things are just out of my control. Learn to let go, Daniella.
I resolve to eat healthier. Yes, I lost almost all of the weight I wanted to lose before the wedding. Yes, I've kept it off by playing soccer like a mad woman three days a week. But, I eat entirely too many sweets and I drink too much wine. Learn to pass up the desserts and just say "no" to that second and third glass of wine at dinner, Daniella.
I resolve to get to the gym more to sculpt my body and get rid of the unhealthy pudge. I may be in pretty good shape, but I need to work in weight-bearing exercise and aerobic exercise as well. Learn to like the gym, Daniella, you're paying for a membership that you aren't using!
I resolve to save more money. We need to buy a house this year and start planning financially to expand our family the year after. Learn that you don't really need to buy another pair of shoes every paycheck, Daniella.
And, finally, I resolve to love myself, love my husband, love my parents and family, and to love the world just a little bit more. Learn to be less cynical, Daniella. The world is a wonderful place.
I hope the New Year brings you joy and may all your wishes come true.
By the way, for those in the NYC area, we will be here to ring in the New Year. Come on by!
I looked over my post on New Year's resolutions from last year (click to read here), and, oh my, was I unhappy this time last year. I can't believe how much my life has improved in just one year. Those of you who have been reading all this time probably could have told me that, but I didn't realize how much my outlook was colored by loneliness last winter.
This year, I have so much for which to be thankful, my resolutions are much more fluffy.
I have a bunch of great friends up here; a bunch of great friends at home in New Orleans; the means with which to travel to see them; an amazing family; a comfy, warm apartment; a job that I like that pays me a very nice salary; happy, healthy pets; a pretty blissful homelife; and the warmest, kindest, sweetest man in the world for a husband. And I had a spectacular wedding and honeymoon, and best of all, it's over, and he and I can get down to the business of building our life together.
So, with all that good stuff, what's left for a girl to resolve?
Well, as usual, I resolve to be more patient in all aspects of my life, but especially in dealing with John. It is not necessary to point out that "I could have done that much faster" or "that you move at half-reality speed." Learn to shut up, Daniella.
I resolve to understand that not everything has to be done my way or controlled by me. I do not run the world (yet!) and some things are just out of my control. Learn to let go, Daniella.
I resolve to eat healthier. Yes, I lost almost all of the weight I wanted to lose before the wedding. Yes, I've kept it off by playing soccer like a mad woman three days a week. But, I eat entirely too many sweets and I drink too much wine. Learn to pass up the desserts and just say "no" to that second and third glass of wine at dinner, Daniella.
I resolve to get to the gym more to sculpt my body and get rid of the unhealthy pudge. I may be in pretty good shape, but I need to work in weight-bearing exercise and aerobic exercise as well. Learn to like the gym, Daniella, you're paying for a membership that you aren't using!
I resolve to save more money. We need to buy a house this year and start planning financially to expand our family the year after. Learn that you don't really need to buy another pair of shoes every paycheck, Daniella.
And, finally, I resolve to love myself, love my husband, love my parents and family, and to love the world just a little bit more. Learn to be less cynical, Daniella. The world is a wonderful place.
I hope the New Year brings you joy and may all your wishes come true.
By the way, for those in the NYC area, we will be here to ring in the New Year. Come on by!
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Daniella Does Connecticut, or The Randomness Holiday Party
Only a week behind schedule, we unveil the party report:
It was a cold and blustery night, our fabulously coifed heroine (see here for hair) ventured forth from her warm and cozy lair, handsome husband and irresponsible, but charming, brother-in-law in tow, to ring in the Holidaze in Connecticut at the richie-rich home of her VFP (Very Favorite Person), Mike.
Our delightfully dressed (olive green ruched sleeveless top, celadon cashmere cardigan, houndstooth wide legged parts, olive green stilletos) heroine helped to decorate the apartment, oversaw the making of the delicious, delectable and decadent egg nog (by oversaw, we mean: watched from the other room as her husband slaved away making it in a kitchen... gasp! without an electric mixer!, occasionally saying, "mmm, that looks great, honey!"), poured herself a glass of wine and surveyed the room. And she saw that it was good. It was very, very good.
The Randomness guests arrived, drank, ate, talked and generally cavorted. And our heroine took their pictures. Because she was going to post them on her website.
Except our heroine forgot to ask anyone for their permission, so all you get are pictures of a few of the bloggers in attendance. See, bloggers have no expectation of privacy BECAUSE THEY PUT THEIR ENTIRE LIVES ON THE INTERNET, so I can post their pictures without having to remember to ask, but I am not so much of a bitch that I will post pictures of people who my dear friend Mike works with and get him fired. That was a run-on sentence, but if I wait any longer to write this post it will be January and no one will even care anymore, least of all me. So deal with it.
"if you eat my cookies, I will skin you alive, bitch!"
the candles that gave the whole place a festive look and a warm, sexy glow. Randomness didn't even know that you were supposed to have a lighting concept for your party!
No, that is NOT a bowl of vomit. That is the nog that my husband slaved over. It was delicious and very, very strong (kinda like I like my men). SHUT UP. It was TOO funny.
Mike and Elizabeth -- they're not bloggers, but they read my blog and John said it was ok. So if you're mad, get mad at him, Mike and Elizabeth.
The Donkey, wearing what has to be the cutest man-sweater ever.
Mike, sporting the stupidest hat. But notice how we put those twirly thingies (that's the technical name, I swear) over the food area?
Linus, who just happens to be one of the coolest people ever. Really. We so must get together again.
There are about 40 more pictures, but as I said, I don't want to get Mike fired. But I did manage to royally piss off a lovely, albeit ridiculously repressed, Colombian woman, while simultaneously getting her very, very drunk on my Super Extra Perfect Daniella MartinisTM. It wouldn't be a party until I get someone drunk and piss them off, right?
Only a week behind schedule, we unveil the party report:
It was a cold and blustery night, our fabulously coifed heroine (see here for hair) ventured forth from her warm and cozy lair, handsome husband and irresponsible, but charming, brother-in-law in tow, to ring in the Holidaze in Connecticut at the richie-rich home of her VFP (Very Favorite Person), Mike.
Our delightfully dressed (olive green ruched sleeveless top, celadon cashmere cardigan, houndstooth wide legged parts, olive green stilletos) heroine helped to decorate the apartment, oversaw the making of the delicious, delectable and decadent egg nog (by oversaw, we mean: watched from the other room as her husband slaved away making it in a kitchen... gasp! without an electric mixer!, occasionally saying, "mmm, that looks great, honey!"), poured herself a glass of wine and surveyed the room. And she saw that it was good. It was very, very good.
The Randomness guests arrived, drank, ate, talked and generally cavorted. And our heroine took their pictures. Because she was going to post them on her website.
Except our heroine forgot to ask anyone for their permission, so all you get are pictures of a few of the bloggers in attendance. See, bloggers have no expectation of privacy BECAUSE THEY PUT THEIR ENTIRE LIVES ON THE INTERNET, so I can post their pictures without having to remember to ask, but I am not so much of a bitch that I will post pictures of people who my dear friend Mike works with and get him fired. That was a run-on sentence, but if I wait any longer to write this post it will be January and no one will even care anymore, least of all me. So deal with it.
"if you eat my cookies, I will skin you alive, bitch!"
the candles that gave the whole place a festive look and a warm, sexy glow. Randomness didn't even know that you were supposed to have a lighting concept for your party!
No, that is NOT a bowl of vomit. That is the nog that my husband slaved over. It was delicious and very, very strong (kinda like I like my men). SHUT UP. It was TOO funny.
Mike and Elizabeth -- they're not bloggers, but they read my blog and John said it was ok. So if you're mad, get mad at him, Mike and Elizabeth.
The Donkey, wearing what has to be the cutest man-sweater ever.
Mike, sporting the stupidest hat. But notice how we put those twirly thingies (that's the technical name, I swear) over the food area?
Linus, who just happens to be one of the coolest people ever. Really. We so must get together again.
There are about 40 more pictures, but as I said, I don't want to get Mike fired. But I did manage to royally piss off a lovely, albeit ridiculously repressed, Colombian woman, while simultaneously getting her very, very drunk on my Super Extra Perfect Daniella MartinisTM. It wouldn't be a party until I get someone drunk and piss them off, right?
New Stuff
No, I'm not too lazy to post.
OK, I am too lazy to post, but there's new (well, sorta new) sidebar content called "essential Daniella."
Ch-ch-check it out.
No, I'm not too lazy to post.
OK, I am too lazy to post, but there's new (well, sorta new) sidebar content called "essential Daniella."
Ch-ch-check it out.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
A Quick Question Regarding Christmas Etiquette
Do you serve the tender and mild infant with gravy or cranberry sauce? Also, what time do the round, young virgins show up?
Do you serve the tender and mild infant with gravy or cranberry sauce? Also, what time do the round, young virgins show up?
Thursday, December 23, 2004
We'll get back to our regularly scheduled lightness and fluff soon, but for now I have something to say
This is addressed to you.
Yeah, you. The one with the magnetic "Support Our Troops" yellow ribbon on your gas guzzling SUV. The one who talks about the "liberal elite" and "those East Coast intellectuals" with derision.
You do know that the cost of those stupid things does nothing to actually support our troops? You know that those things are probably manufactured in China by sweatshop laborers who have neither the decent living wage nor safety protections that are hallmark of our labor system in the good ol' U S of A? Do you realize that owning your Suburban Assault Vehicle, which gets something like 19 miles to the gallon, is part of the reason that we have to rely so heavily on imported oil from the Middle East, a hotbed of anti-Americanism, radical Islam and terror? That you, yes, you, are contributing to the reason that our soldiers are dying over there in record numbers? They aren't even safe in their own mess halls on base anymore.
My best friend is a soldier. Luckily, he's no longer inhell Iraq. But don't tell me you support our troops. Because you and your Red State brethern have shown your support. You have re-elected the man that put them in harm's way with no valid reason (WMD's, anyone?) and with no viable strategy. Now, every day our soldiers, honest men and women, are fighting and dying in a quagmire. Because of you and people like you. Sheep.
No, don't get me wrong. Now that we have brought chaos to Iraq, I'm not advocating abandoning them to anarchy. We have to finish what we started. But don't you fucking question my support of our troops just because you voted for Hang 'Em High Bush and his posse of cowboys and I didn't. Instead of slapping a meaningless magnetic yellow ribbon on your SUV, why don't you send a care package to a soldier? Buy a car that gets the best possible gas mileage? Write your congressman to advocate more diplomacy to get the UN involved in the effort in Iraq? Punish the politicians who lied to get us involved in the first place.
But don't tell me that you support our troops. Because you don't.
This is addressed to you.
Yeah, you. The one with the magnetic "Support Our Troops" yellow ribbon on your gas guzzling SUV. The one who talks about the "liberal elite" and "those East Coast intellectuals" with derision.
You do know that the cost of those stupid things does nothing to actually support our troops? You know that those things are probably manufactured in China by sweatshop laborers who have neither the decent living wage nor safety protections that are hallmark of our labor system in the good ol' U S of A? Do you realize that owning your Suburban Assault Vehicle, which gets something like 19 miles to the gallon, is part of the reason that we have to rely so heavily on imported oil from the Middle East, a hotbed of anti-Americanism, radical Islam and terror? That you, yes, you, are contributing to the reason that our soldiers are dying over there in record numbers? They aren't even safe in their own mess halls on base anymore.
My best friend is a soldier. Luckily, he's no longer in
No, don't get me wrong. Now that we have brought chaos to Iraq, I'm not advocating abandoning them to anarchy. We have to finish what we started. But don't you fucking question my support of our troops just because you voted for Hang 'Em High Bush and his posse of cowboys and I didn't. Instead of slapping a meaningless magnetic yellow ribbon on your SUV, why don't you send a care package to a soldier? Buy a car that gets the best possible gas mileage? Write your congressman to advocate more diplomacy to get the UN involved in the effort in Iraq? Punish the politicians who lied to get us involved in the first place.
But don't tell me that you support our troops. Because you don't.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
...now with new, much more fabulous hair...
Without any further ado, I present...
The Great Hair Shedding of Late 2004
In preparation for a new year, a new, incredibly fabulous hairdo.
You may all now commence complimenting me.
Coming next (I swear): Pictures of the Randomness Holiday Bash '04, aka Daniella Does Connecticut and Manages to Piss Off Really Repressed Colombian Women
Without any further ado, I present...
The Great Hair Shedding of Late 2004
In preparation for a new year, a new, incredibly fabulous hairdo.
You may all now commence complimenting me.
Coming next (I swear): Pictures of the Randomness Holiday Bash '04, aka Daniella Does Connecticut and Manages to Piss Off Really Repressed Colombian Women
Sunday, December 19, 2004
For your viewing pleasure... an assortment of pictures
I realized that I haven't posted any pictures lately. Here's a few that don't have all that much to do with one another other than the fact that they were all taken during the last two weeks of November.
me, with a black eye from soccer, enjoying a cup of hot cocoa in my new vineyard pajamas... the perfect Sunday morning. Well, except for that black eye thing.
MOMA, opening weekend. It was crowded, but I really liked the new space and am glad it's back in Manhattan.
Giacometti
Picasso
MOMA, John looking through a sculpture, can't remember the artist
dramatic sunset in Palisades Park
pollution sure does make for beautiful sunsets, doesn't it?
my father and my husband discussing the relative merits of Manhattan's architecture. Or something.
trying to push my dad into the Hudson River
my mom in motion
no post is complete without pictures of my cats. This is Frank, the fat one, doing what he does best--lounging on our bed waiting for someone to come by and scratch his belly.
don't let all the cuteness of the previous photo fool you, these cats are demons.
recap and pictures from last night's ultra-fabulous Randomness Holiday Party 2004 coming soon.
I realized that I haven't posted any pictures lately. Here's a few that don't have all that much to do with one another other than the fact that they were all taken during the last two weeks of November.
me, with a black eye from soccer, enjoying a cup of hot cocoa in my new vineyard pajamas... the perfect Sunday morning. Well, except for that black eye thing.
MOMA, opening weekend. It was crowded, but I really liked the new space and am glad it's back in Manhattan.
Giacometti
Picasso
MOMA, John looking through a sculpture, can't remember the artist
dramatic sunset in Palisades Park
pollution sure does make for beautiful sunsets, doesn't it?
my father and my husband discussing the relative merits of Manhattan's architecture. Or something.
trying to push my dad into the Hudson River
my mom in motion
no post is complete without pictures of my cats. This is Frank, the fat one, doing what he does best--lounging on our bed waiting for someone to come by and scratch his belly.
don't let all the cuteness of the previous photo fool you, these cats are demons.
recap and pictures from last night's ultra-fabulous Randomness Holiday Party 2004 coming soon.
Friday, December 17, 2004
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Now that John and I are Official Married PeopleTM, we should probably suck it up and send Holiday Cards. Only I fucking despise holiday cards. Not that the sentiment isn't nice, but well, I just hate having to do something that everyone does.
Mom, please don't call me about my use of the word fuck. Sometimes it's appropriate to indicate strength of emotion. You know I'm right. And I love you.
So, this year, those of you that are among our friends and loved ones... be prepared to get a holiday card from us.
...For President's Day. Because that's a holiday I can get behind.
Oh, and we may be changing our name to The Rutting Pig Dogs of the Apocalypse. Either because it sounds really, really cool or because I ate too much holiday candy at work this afternoon and I'm on a really major sugar high. You decide.
Now that John and I are Official Married PeopleTM, we should probably suck it up and send Holiday Cards. Only I fucking despise holiday cards. Not that the sentiment isn't nice, but well, I just hate having to do something that everyone does.
Mom, please don't call me about my use of the word fuck. Sometimes it's appropriate to indicate strength of emotion. You know I'm right. And I love you.
So, this year, those of you that are among our friends and loved ones... be prepared to get a holiday card from us.
...For President's Day. Because that's a holiday I can get behind.
Oh, and we may be changing our name to The Rutting Pig Dogs of the Apocalypse. Either because it sounds really, really cool or because I ate too much holiday candy at work this afternoon and I'm on a really major sugar high. You decide.
Bad Idea
Your response to your husband's saying that the omelet that he got up early to make tastes bad should not be singing "you've lost that omelet feeling" off-key.
Your response to your husband's saying that the omelet that he got up early to make tastes bad should not be singing "you've lost that omelet feeling" off-key.
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
The State of Our Union, Month Two
(idea for post shamelessly ripped off from Krissa who got married a few days after me)
For those that care, it's been an eventful two months. My promotion, John's emergency appendectomy, hosting our very first grown-up Thanksgiving--complete with both sets of parents and matching china and serving ware, and adjusting to using the evil H-word and the even more evil W-word. Whew! I get tired just thinking about it.
But, man, is it amazing. I really married the right man. The one who gets me. The one who thinks I'm far cuter with no makeup on, my hair in a ratty bun on top if my head, wearing flannel pajamas and drinking hot cocoa. The one who gets my obscure quotes of bad eighties movies and good southern gothic literature. The one who just loves me and puts up with waaaay too much of my shit.
I am happier than I've ever been in my life and I SEE NO END IN SIGHT. No end to the happiness. Holy shit!
Don't worry. We're not superhuman androids. There have been fights. There's that whole messy thing. As in, he's a big, stinkin' filthy pig monster who never puts things back in their place and I am the anal retentive freak who has to have everything exactly where it's supposed to go all the time ohmigawd. And there's the making up. The making up is very, very, very good.
And of course there's the Saturday night date night dinners wherein he makes me a delicious feast and we drink wine that we bought on our honeymoon in Napa and we revel in each other's delightful company. And, sometimes, he lets me eat all the chocolate chips and doesn't even mind if I don't share with him. And, just today, he made me the best pre-soccer game snack ever - nutella and raspberry jam on toasted pita (if you haven't had it, it's THE BEST THING EVER).
And when he woke up from anesthesia after his appendectomy, the first thing he said to me was that he ruined my birthday. Gee, it would have been ruined if his appendix had ruptured and he had died, but this? This was nothing.
All I know is I made the best decision of my life marrying this man and I am so happy that I have had two WHOLE MONTHS to call him by that evil H-word. Oh, and he's taking me on The Honeymoon, Part 2 (to St. Kitts) on January 29th. Oh, and we're in the process of getting pre-qualified for a mortgage and we're going to live happily ever after.
So, I guess the State of Our Union is pretty damn great.
(idea for post shamelessly ripped off from Krissa who got married a few days after me)
For those that care, it's been an eventful two months. My promotion, John's emergency appendectomy, hosting our very first grown-up Thanksgiving--complete with both sets of parents and matching china and serving ware, and adjusting to using the evil H-word and the even more evil W-word. Whew! I get tired just thinking about it.
But, man, is it amazing. I really married the right man. The one who gets me. The one who thinks I'm far cuter with no makeup on, my hair in a ratty bun on top if my head, wearing flannel pajamas and drinking hot cocoa. The one who gets my obscure quotes of bad eighties movies and good southern gothic literature. The one who just loves me and puts up with waaaay too much of my shit.
I am happier than I've ever been in my life and I SEE NO END IN SIGHT. No end to the happiness. Holy shit!
Don't worry. We're not superhuman androids. There have been fights. There's that whole messy thing. As in, he's a big, stinkin' filthy pig monster who never puts things back in their place and I am the anal retentive freak who has to have everything exactly where it's supposed to go all the time ohmigawd. And there's the making up. The making up is very, very, very good.
And of course there's the Saturday night date night dinners wherein he makes me a delicious feast and we drink wine that we bought on our honeymoon in Napa and we revel in each other's delightful company. And, sometimes, he lets me eat all the chocolate chips and doesn't even mind if I don't share with him. And, just today, he made me the best pre-soccer game snack ever - nutella and raspberry jam on toasted pita (if you haven't had it, it's THE BEST THING EVER).
And when he woke up from anesthesia after his appendectomy, the first thing he said to me was that he ruined my birthday. Gee, it would have been ruined if his appendix had ruptured and he had died, but this? This was nothing.
All I know is I made the best decision of my life marrying this man and I am so happy that I have had two WHOLE MONTHS to call him by that evil H-word. Oh, and he's taking me on The Honeymoon, Part 2 (to St. Kitts) on January 29th. Oh, and we're in the process of getting pre-qualified for a mortgage and we're going to live happily ever after.
So, I guess the State of Our Union is pretty damn great.
Common Sense
Somebody should remind me not to go out with my hair in a still-wet ponytail when it's 20 degrees outside.
Somebody should remind me not to go out with my hair in a still-wet ponytail when it's 20 degrees outside.
Monday, December 13, 2004
An email to my dear, dear friends in the Christian Right
Found via the genius of Kristi.
Dear True Speaker of God's Word:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's law. I have learned a great deal from you and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them:
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not to Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no cont act with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness (Lev. 15:19-24). The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord (Lev. 1:9). The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states that he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that, even though eating shellfish is an abomination (Lev. 11:10), it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there "degrees" of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses . Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them (Lev. 24:10-16)? Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws (Lev. 20:14)?
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.
Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging,
Me
Found via the genius of Kristi.
Dear True Speaker of God's Word:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's law. I have learned a great deal from you and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them:
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not to Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no cont act with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness (Lev. 15:19-24). The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord (Lev. 1:9). The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states that he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that, even though eating shellfish is an abomination (Lev. 11:10), it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there "degrees" of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses . Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them (Lev. 24:10-16)? Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws (Lev. 20:14)?
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.
Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging,
Me
The name game
I wrote a really long comment in response to a comment to a previous post. I thought it was confusing and/or interesting enough to be reprinted as a post.
Or maybe I'm just lazy and recycling. You judge.
I was asked if I changed my name and if so, was it a difficult adjustment.
Actually... no and yes.
I'm sort of halfway changing my name, if you can follow that.
Because we plan to have a child, (NOT NOW. Put that thing away... in a while....), I am changing my name "officially."
That means on my social security card, my taxes, my driver's license, my passport, my headache... oops, that's just what I get when I think about all the delightful civil servants that I will have to deal with to effectuate changing my name.
But, on the other hand... I have my own identity. I have a career in MY name and I am known throughout my company (and starting to network enough to get known a little in my industry) by MY name.
So, I plan on keeping my name at work.
So, in summary, it's really goddamn confusing.
Oh, yeah, and we're going to St. Kitts next month on vacation and I don't want to deal with getting a new passport in time, so I'm definitely not changing my name until after that.
Is that even remotely clear to anyone?
I didn't think so.
I wrote a really long comment in response to a comment to a previous post. I thought it was confusing and/or interesting enough to be reprinted as a post.
Or maybe I'm just lazy and recycling. You judge.
I was asked if I changed my name and if so, was it a difficult adjustment.
Actually... no and yes.
I'm sort of halfway changing my name, if you can follow that.
Because we plan to have a child, (NOT NOW. Put that thing away... in a while....), I am changing my name "officially."
That means on my social security card, my taxes, my driver's license, my passport, my headache... oops, that's just what I get when I think about all the delightful civil servants that I will have to deal with to effectuate changing my name.
But, on the other hand... I have my own identity. I have a career in MY name and I am known throughout my company (and starting to network enough to get known a little in my industry) by MY name.
So, I plan on keeping my name at work.
So, in summary, it's really goddamn confusing.
Oh, yeah, and we're going to St. Kitts next month on vacation and I don't want to deal with getting a new passport in time, so I'm definitely not changing my name until after that.
Is that even remotely clear to anyone?
I didn't think so.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
Overheard
John, on the phone with credit card company: Yes, I want to request a duplicate card for my wife. The name should be Daniella (My Maiden Name) (His Last Name).
Me: Dude, you just called me your "wife"-- that's so cool. I love it when you say wife. I wish you would use the word wife more. It's adorable.
John, after getting off phone with credit card company: Um, you are my wife. And, I use the word wife all the time.
Me: When?
John: Well, you know... like official stuff. You know. Stuff.
Me: You probably call Cali (our cat) your wife, too. She's prettier than me. And younger, too. (grinning)
John: Nah, she's too hairy. But she is awfully pretty.
John, on the phone with credit card company: Yes, I want to request a duplicate card for my wife. The name should be Daniella (My Maiden Name) (His Last Name).
Me: Dude, you just called me your "wife"-- that's so cool. I love it when you say wife. I wish you would use the word wife more. It's adorable.
John, after getting off phone with credit card company: Um, you are my wife. And, I use the word wife all the time.
Me: When?
John: Well, you know... like official stuff. You know. Stuff.
Me: You probably call Cali (our cat) your wife, too. She's prettier than me. And younger, too. (grinning)
John: Nah, she's too hairy. But she is awfully pretty.
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Gimme a J... Gimme an K... What's that spell?
I've written about this before. About how the inevitable result of coupling off is that you no longer have romantic conquest to look forward to... to relish... to anticipate.
Instead, you meet that girl. You know the one. The girl you just know, know is totally cool. Maybe you work with her, maybe you just see her everyday on your train. Whatever. It's just always cool to make a new friend.
And I did. Tonight. So, Miss JK... welcome to the Place-Where-We-Work Cool Girls Club.
Tonight was a blast. Oh, and meet my blog. But, let's keep it between us, OK?
I've written about this before. About how the inevitable result of coupling off is that you no longer have romantic conquest to look forward to... to relish... to anticipate.
Instead, you meet that girl. You know the one. The girl you just know, know is totally cool. Maybe you work with her, maybe you just see her everyday on your train. Whatever. It's just always cool to make a new friend.
And I did. Tonight. So, Miss JK... welcome to the Place-Where-We-Work Cool Girls Club.
Tonight was a blast. Oh, and meet my blog. But, let's keep it between us, OK?
Comment Disaster
Ok, ok, let's not panic...
I was going through my archives in the hopes of putting a "Best of..." list together and apparently all comments left on my blog prior to mid-August are gone.
GONE!
Can one of you techno-savvy folks help me? MRW, I'm looking to you here. I use Haloscan and I WANT MY COMMENTS BACK!
Help!
UPDATE: Apparently all I had to do was look at the Haloscan Users Forum...
Help! My old comments disappeared from Haloscan and my blog!
A: You're not a Premium member, are you? If you're not, all comments older than 4 months will be archived by Haloscan (NOT deleted). You cannot presently access these without becoming a Premium member. No, there is no other way.
I will be getting my comments back for a low, low price of $12.
See, I don't even need the cosmic techno-genius of MRW.
Ok, ok, let's not panic...
I was going through my archives in the hopes of putting a "Best of..." list together and apparently all comments left on my blog prior to mid-August are gone.
GONE!
Can one of you techno-savvy folks help me? MRW, I'm looking to you here. I use Haloscan and I WANT MY COMMENTS BACK!
Help!
UPDATE: Apparently all I had to do was look at the Haloscan Users Forum...
Help! My old comments disappeared from Haloscan and my blog!
A: You're not a Premium member, are you? If you're not, all comments older than 4 months will be archived by Haloscan (NOT deleted). You cannot presently access these without becoming a Premium member. No, there is no other way.
I will be getting my comments back for a low, low price of $12.
See, I don't even need the cosmic techno-genius of MRW.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
All Signs Point to the Apocalypse
Things are good, right? Well, yes and no. I think I may be cracking up.
My promotion is fantastic. I have actual decision making authority, I am doing stuff that's interesting, blah, blah, blah. Only they haven't hired anyone to replace me in my old job, so I'm still doing that.
And two other people in my functional work group have also been promoted into new roles and no one has been hired to replace them either. So, I'm doing that too.
Does anyone see that knot of stress in my neck? I think it is so big and so tight that I may resemble Quasimodo.
And I'm tired and I hate the holidays (oh, wait, I already bitched about that, didn't I?). And the deductible on John's surgery is going to cost us a fortune at an inopportune time financially. Gee, everyone, for the holidays, your gift is... John's appendix!
And the car is making a weird noise and I have a big presentation on Monday in front 180 people and I haven't had time to drop off the dry cleaning and and and....
I know, I know. There are people out there with real problems. People who don't know where their next meal is coming from and I'm complaining because I'm a little stressed out?
But, today, when I got to work late because John had a doctor's appointment, and there was nowhere to park, and it was pouring rain, and the asshole in the giant gas-guzzling-reason-my-friends-are-dying-for-Iraqi-oil SUV took two parking spots, I just had had HAD ENOUGH. So, instead of going all the way up to the roof and parking in outer Siberia, I pulled over, got out of my car and left this divine little note:
Dear Giant Gaping Asshole,
The next time you feel the need to spread your already ridiculously oversized piece of shit vehicle over two or more parking spots, I suggest that you reconsider.
Because, next time, I won't leave a note.
But you may not be happy to find that your tires have no air in them.
Regards,
A Concerned Co-worker
No, I wouldn't actually have let the air out of the asshat's tires, but a healthy dose of fear can only do him good, right?
So, am I cracking up or is this level of rage normal?
Things are good, right? Well, yes and no. I think I may be cracking up.
My promotion is fantastic. I have actual decision making authority, I am doing stuff that's interesting, blah, blah, blah. Only they haven't hired anyone to replace me in my old job, so I'm still doing that.
And two other people in my functional work group have also been promoted into new roles and no one has been hired to replace them either. So, I'm doing that too.
Does anyone see that knot of stress in my neck? I think it is so big and so tight that I may resemble Quasimodo.
And I'm tired and I hate the holidays (oh, wait, I already bitched about that, didn't I?). And the deductible on John's surgery is going to cost us a fortune at an inopportune time financially. Gee, everyone, for the holidays, your gift is... John's appendix!
And the car is making a weird noise and I have a big presentation on Monday in front 180 people and I haven't had time to drop off the dry cleaning and and and....
I know, I know. There are people out there with real problems. People who don't know where their next meal is coming from and I'm complaining because I'm a little stressed out?
But, today, when I got to work late because John had a doctor's appointment, and there was nowhere to park, and it was pouring rain, and the asshole in the giant gas-guzzling-reason-my-friends-are-dying-for-Iraqi-oil SUV took two parking spots, I just had had HAD ENOUGH. So, instead of going all the way up to the roof and parking in outer Siberia, I pulled over, got out of my car and left this divine little note:
Dear Giant Gaping Asshole,
The next time you feel the need to spread your already ridiculously oversized piece of shit vehicle over two or more parking spots, I suggest that you reconsider.
Because, next time, I won't leave a note.
But you may not be happy to find that your tires have no air in them.
Regards,
A Concerned Co-worker
No, I wouldn't actually have let the air out of the asshat's tires, but a healthy dose of fear can only do him good, right?
So, am I cracking up or is this level of rage normal?
Sunday, December 05, 2004
What are we doing for Amateur Night?
First of all, thanks to everyone for your kind words and good wishes. John is home from the hospital and doing very well. What we learned from this experience: Daniella is not cut out for staying at home during the day.
I've never been so happy to get back to work as I was after being home for a few days taking care of John. Don't get me wrong, John was a great patient, but he was conked out most of the time. Damn, if it wasn't the most boring few days of my life. Since I was home from work, I felt like I had to be productive. So, no curling up and hitting my ever-growing stack of To Be Read Books (currently in the queue: Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, The Plot Against America by Philip Roth, Joe Conason's book, the Daily Show book -- these are just the ones sitting on my night table, begging to be read, if you include those I want to get to read, the list gets much, much longer!); instead I cleaned the house, did loads and loads of laundry, cooked (I know, Daniella cooking, who woulda thunk it!), etc, etc. Thank the gods that I have an education and a career, because if this was my daily life, I think I would have to slit my wrists.
So, to get back to the title of the post... what is everyone doing for New Year's Eve?
We have a place in the city for the night, so we were thinking about a fun, but still adult (not adult like strip club, you dirty minded readers, but adult as in not a twenty-something singles meat market club!) dinner and drinks somewhere interesting and tasty. We have a group of about 8 - 10 people that we plan on inviting (if you haven't gotten your phone call invite yet, it's 'cause we haven't settled on a place!). I'm open to suggestions.
We don't want a repeat of last year's disasterous NYE.
Fire away.
First of all, thanks to everyone for your kind words and good wishes. John is home from the hospital and doing very well. What we learned from this experience: Daniella is not cut out for staying at home during the day.
I've never been so happy to get back to work as I was after being home for a few days taking care of John. Don't get me wrong, John was a great patient, but he was conked out most of the time. Damn, if it wasn't the most boring few days of my life. Since I was home from work, I felt like I had to be productive. So, no curling up and hitting my ever-growing stack of To Be Read Books (currently in the queue: Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides, The Plot Against America by Philip Roth, Joe Conason's book, the Daily Show book -- these are just the ones sitting on my night table, begging to be read, if you include those I want to get to read, the list gets much, much longer!); instead I cleaned the house, did loads and loads of laundry, cooked (I know, Daniella cooking, who woulda thunk it!), etc, etc. Thank the gods that I have an education and a career, because if this was my daily life, I think I would have to slit my wrists.
So, to get back to the title of the post... what is everyone doing for New Year's Eve?
We have a place in the city for the night, so we were thinking about a fun, but still adult (not adult like strip club, you dirty minded readers, but adult as in not a twenty-something singles meat market club!) dinner and drinks somewhere interesting and tasty. We have a group of about 8 - 10 people that we plan on inviting (if you haven't gotten your phone call invite yet, it's 'cause we haven't settled on a place!). I'm open to suggestions.
We don't want a repeat of last year's disasterous NYE.
Fire away.
