Just one more, and then that's it, okay? I promise!

Got back into Seattle last night after a short and pleasingly uneventful plane ride. Sad how a one hour delay followed by 90 minutes of shrieking babies and flustered first-time fathers talking way too loudly behind you about "binkies" and "potty" now qualify as a pleasingly uneventful plane ride. But I digress.

Came home to find Bela alive and well with only a bit of cat vomit on one of the couches. Not bad considering I can usually count on at least 3 - 5 various mini-piles of cat vomit scattered about the apartment whenever the Schmoobs and I leave for vacation. Our friend Mike must have done a good job taking care of our overly co-dependent little furball while we were gone.

However, after doing the obligatory boogie-man inspection throughout the apartment (Bathtub? Check. Closets? Check. Office? Check. Don't tell me I'm the only one that does this when I walk into an empty apartment...), I did find one very unwelcome guest...in our toilet. For my poor mother's sake, let's just say there were ...remnants... in there that were most definitely not there when we left and that were now ...hardened... and ...clinging to the sides.... and very difficult to ...scrub off... despite one very traumatizing attempt to get rid of it using the only bottle of cleaner (Windex, of all goddamned things!) I had left in the entire place.

Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the evening and well into this morning praying to the heavens that I could hold any urges that would compell me to want to set foot near that porcelain nightmare before Scott got home tonight and I could make him clean it again. Because even though I think I did a fair job (I'm not really sure since my brain blacked out the entire time I was having to clean it) at getting rid of any evidence of the disgustingness that was there before, it still feels so uncleeeeeaaaan, I don't think I'd be able to be mentally at peace with it again until he comes home and does a second go-through.

Note to self: buy an industrial-sized jug of bleach before Schmoobs comes home. And maybe some adult diapers.

I did iiiiiiiit!!!

Spent the final evening of my glorious California holiday vacation by having a veritable girls' night with my sister, mummy and two neices getting assorted hairs cut -- and my head is now like ten pounds lighter! Not sure exactly how much they cut, but it seriously seems like it was a foot. My hair went from being almost down to my butt crack and is now just barely past my shoulders. No regrets at all, I have to say. I am eager to see what it looks like tomorrow now that I've showered away the heavy product and blowdry business they did after the haircut (which I haaate) and should have my normal hair goop free tresses in the morning. Huzzah!

Anyway, the time with family and friends has been a blast. Wonderful memories, lots of good food, great company, hilarious pictures, an extra suitcase filled with nothing but Christmas Loot, and one especially disturbing round of The Annual White Elephant Gift Exchange at our family's Christmas party involving not only my older brother walking away with a banana hammock made out of candy, but also my mother and aunt giggling and needling each other on the couch while making massaging-balls (yes, that kind) motions with their hands. And that, my friends, is my cue to leave.

No, but really. The winding down of visits home is always a strange mix of melancholy and gladness. It's hard to leave my family because I live too far away to see them on a regular basis and am never sure exactly when I'll see them again (except this year, when we're taking a family vacation to Maui in March! Woo!), but also very excited to go back to the semblance of normalcy and routine that my Schmoobles and I have created for ourselves. But seriously, I'm thankful to not have to witness my own mother pantomime the massaging of a set of imaginary nuts for at least a few months.

And on that note: Here's to a New Year filled with gladness, joy, excitement and much much less hair on my noggin!!

Merry Christmas to all!! (except for Sandra Lee...see previous post)

Just came back from Midnight Mass with my little bro and mom. Dad stayed home and, apparently, baked some banana nut bread. Mmm...I'm not complaining! Nothing like the scent of fresh baked banana bread at 2 in the morning to give one the energy to OPEN UP YOUR CHRISTMAS LOOT!!!

Yeah yeah yeah, presents are not the true spirit of the holidays, yada yada. But I already went to church...so I'm entitled. So there.

The Loot List so far:

This fabulous purse, except in a lovely lavender color that goes magically well with my new dark teal blouse:


A gift card from this beloved place:


And this!



Spider pig, spider pig. Does whatever a Spider Pig does. Can he swing from a web? No, he can't. He's a pig. Look out!

Hehehe. Anyway, off to continue watching the DVD and look forward to seeing more siblings, extraneous family and old friends and eating gluttonous amounts of delicious food in the next couple of days...

Merry Christmas!

A post that has nothing to do with you-know-what.

And by "you-know-what" I, of course, mean poop. You're welcome. It was getting to the point that I was going to have to rename my blog "Shootin' the Poop" or something (Hahaha! Get it?! Shooting the poop!!... God, I'm awesome.)

Anyway, I am sitting in my parents' house watching the Food Network. My initial thought? Sandra Lee is a worthless pile of poo crap sh*t feces. Okay?! I said it!! I know I said I wouldn't, but there really are no other words. First she was "making" these silly little holiday cakes. And by that I mean taking 3 store bought, already made Angel's Food cakes and then piling on some store bought, already made frosting mixed with food coloring and decorating them with a ridiculous assortment of decorations and toppings. First she did a baby blue frosting topped with fake plastic craft-store pearls. Yeah, like that's a good idea. Nothing says "Happy Hanukah" like choking on a f*ing plastic string of pearls that was mixed into your holiday cake. Next she did green icing topped with coconut shavings and red hot candies with little fake ceramic leaves arranged to look like mistletoe. Admittedly, the cake was pretty, but again: Ooh, look at the cute icing mistlet----* starts choking * The best one, however, was the token Kwanzaa cake. Brown-ish icing topped with pumpkin seeds and..."acorns." Except they're not acorns, you dumb twit, they were corn nuts. Angel food cake with white icing mixed with hot cocoa mix, topped with pumpkin seeds and corn nuts?!! And as if this monstrosity wasn't hideous enough, you stabbed it with 6 giant red, green and black pillar candles??!!

I thought I had enough of this woman, and then they aired another episode where she made some kind of Asian noodle soup made with chicken stock, instant ramen noodles, pre-cooked shrimp, frozen peas and frozen carrots. Frozen carrots? For a cooking show? Really, Food Network. Have some self respect. And Sandra Lee: Get a goddamned knife out and slice a f*ing carrot, for crying out loud. You can touch up your manicure after the taping. Jesus, I could have hosted my own cooking show in college, if she's any indication. So could my younger brother, for that matter. It's only a matter of time before her "main course" is a nuked hot dog and some frozen corn. Mmm...semi-homemade! Semi-f*ing travesty.

I'll be back in the holiday spirit tomorrow. Maybe I'll watch some Paula Deen. The two sticks of butter per recipe should soothe my embittered soul quite nicely.

I can't believe an entire post related completely to loose bowels has not garnered one comment yet.

Our shuttle arrives in ten minutes to take Schmoobs and I to the airport. I can't believe I never thought about taking the shuttle instead of parking at Sea-Tac before. Hmmm...paying $30 dollars to have a van service pick you up at your door vs. paying one trillion dollars to park at the airport for one week. Tough choice.

Anyway, I will be busy being assaulted by two very adorable neices in the next several days, so posting may be scarce. Unless I decide to lock myself in the guest room to recover from their endless sacks of energy and blog during that time. We'll see. In the meantime, hope you're all having a Happy Holidays!

This post is rated P for Poo.

Oh Lord, where to even begin?

So, you all will be delighed to hear that my Schmoobs is well on his way back to good health. And I will take full credit for his recovery, what with my awesome girlfriend-ness, with the Gatorade fetching and ginger tea brewing and lugaw cooking... However, now I am not so sure how to feel about having good ol' Scott back seeing as he now has the energy to relay to me -- in full graphic detail -- about the unfortunate bodily functions that transpired during the last 48 hours. And I'm not talking about the vomiting. As in, a few times, he was vomiting so violently that stuff started coming out...in another place.

*** STOP READING HERE NOW. I MEAN IT. ALRIGHT...DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU ***

At least the first couple of times it happened, it was not really, um, solid stuffs. Like, erm, how did he put it..."brown water." But then, last night. Oooh, last night. I came home from work and found him still completely passed out in bed, as he had been the entire day. So I went into the kitchen to brew some fresh ginger tea and make that lugaw. In the midst of it I -- because did I mention that I am an Awesome girlfriend? -- walked down the hall towards the bedroom to check on him. Except that I was startled by Scott suddenly rushing out of the bedroom and into the hallway with a strange expression on his face -- startled? sleepy? confused? panicked? Yes, panicked is what I know it was now, in hindsight. Because as I have learned, he had just crapped his pants. For real. Thank God I can honestly say that I have never in my entire life been so sick that I have craaapped my paaants. And the disgusting boys-are-dirty-girls-would-never-even-think-about-doing-this topper of it all? He did not throw his dirty boxers away.

I'll let you think about that for a minute.

It sat in his dirty laundry (which almost never intermingles with my dirty laundry...praise Jesus) all night until he put it in the laundry machine tonight. I mean, really??!! I mean, I'd ask him but I'm too scared to know that answer, but I would at least hope that he had the good sense to *shudder* scrape some of the poo *bleargh* off before he tossed the crap-ridden underwear into our closet *hurrrl*. It's only by the grace of God that I still love this guy. Because, for realz, if there was even a hint of a question as to what my true feelings were for this foul creature, I think it has been answered this very day. And when I asked him why he did not do immediately throw them away -- I believe the exact words were "OH MY GOD WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU RUN RIGHT TO THE GARBAGE CAN AND THROW IT AWAYYYYY???!!!" -- his response was, "Well, you were cooking in the kitchen and I didn't want to walk in there and toss in a pair of poopy underwear." Oy. Oy oy oy. I guess it makes sense...kind of.

Anyway, for better or worse, Scott is back to his former self, playing NCAA 2007 Football on his XBox 360 and smiling at me and saying, "Poopie Doopies" over and over. *sigh*

Also: Scott and I are flying home for Christmas tomorrow night. Huzzah! Huzzah! I am way excited. Also in deep denial about the list of about 10 things that I still need to take care of before we catch our airport shuttle tomorrow and have yet to even begin. But still excited. Wheeee!!


UPDATE: In case you were wondering, I knew about the Crappy Pants Incident last night, but I specifically didn't put it in my blog for the sake of my dear Schmoobliedoos. However, he was reading my previous post earlier this evening and asked, "Why didn't you write about how I crapped my pants?" And then I said, "You seriously want me to put that in there?" And he was all, "..... Yes." So I did.

My Schmoobliedoos is sick :(

I was awakened (awoken?) at 4 o'clock this morning by a moaning and groaning Scott telling me that he didn't feel very good. I, being the heartless and insensitive girlfriend, figured he was being an overly dramatic baby and waited for him to fall asleep and be quiet. However, the sudden leap out of bed and dash to the nearest garbage can followed 1.5 seconds later by the sounds of his innards (at least that's what it sounded like) being violently vomited out of his skull was enough to convince me that he really did not feel very good. Poor thing. And it pretty much continued that way for the next several hours.

After making a morning trip to Rite-Aid for some Gatorade and Saltines, I squeezed in one hour of sleep (in which I dreamt that Scott's vomit was in the bathtub and I was distressed because I had to take a shower before work) and went off to work. On my way home, I stopped at the grocery store to buy some ingredients for lugaw, which is the Filipino equivalent of the Chinese congee -- a rice porridge dish that has garlic, ginger, chicken, etc. -- and is definitely the feel-better, comfort food in Asian cultures. My parents used to make it all the time when we were growing up, and I'm hoping it helps Scott.

I, meanwhile, feel fine. On the chance that he's got a stomach flu rather than food poisoning (which is likely, since the vomiting has stopped, but he is still very weak and has been asleep all day), I am taking ridiculous amounts of Ester-C and drinking home-brewed tea from ginger pieces the size of my head. I absolutely cannot get sick three days before flying home for Christmas!! Especially since I have written out approximately zero out of an estimated 20 Christmas cards, and have finished only 22% percent of my Christmas shopping. Plus, I have to find a way to squeeze in 2 more full days of work, pack my suitcase, teach 2 clarinet lessons and cook/bake some goodies to bring in for our office Christmas party before 5pm on Wednesday. Yeesh. I absolutely luuuurve the Holidays, as you well know, but if someone can find a way to enjoy this time of year without the added stress and anxiety, then I'd love it that much more.

My nuts are burning!

My statement to Scott a few minutes ago in the midst of a day filled with some successful (breakfast omelet, Orange Nut Cookies), some not-so-successful (burned Spiced Nuts) adventures in the kitchen. To be sure, Scott had a clever response to this statement which I will not post here for the sake of my poor parents, but rest assured that it did involve the word "nuts" and "burning" in a different context. *sigh* Anyway, I spent nearly $90 on ingredients (!!! I know, right? How the hell did that happen??) at the grocery store last night, I'm about six hours in, and all I have to show for it is one batch of cookies and one not-burned batch of spiced nuts. Harumph. Baking is hard.

Also: we saw "I Am Legend" last night. Zombies are f*ing scary. The movie was waaay better than "The Golden Compass" (yes, we are still bitter about that one).

Oyster O.D.

Back from Happy Hour in the city. Stomach distended. Filled with one overpriced martini, one dozen oysters, one order of calamari, one cup of oyster stew, one salmon slider, one large Americano and one slice of key lime pie. Am dangerously close to turning into one useless lump of mixed seafood flesh with a key lime-shaped head. And two olives instead of eyes. Sipping an Americano. Will post more tomorrow when thoughts are not clouded by seafood-flavored retardation.

Good night.

Yarrrgh...old people pills.

I am, as of one hour ago, officially taking glucosamine and chondroitin supplements*. Because, not only do I have bad wrists from my years as a gymnast, I also developed bad knees after high school when I decided to try a brief stint at exercising again (didn't last long), then woke up with a bad left shoulder 19 months ago (Remember when I blogged about it when I was still working for the goddamned KSO? Yeah, it's still there.), and a week ago started waking up in the middle of the night with a burning pain in my right elbow. Yeesh. This whole approaching 30 thing is doing quite a number on me. At least I got a trip to Target out of this whole need to buy old people pills.

In other news: tomorrow, the Schmoobs and I are joining his newest non-gay boyfriend and the non-gay boyfriend's wife for Happy Hour at Elliott's Oyster House in the city. I am -- how do you say? -- stoked. It's the place we went to when we visited Seattle for the first time while looking at apartments and ended up spending way too much money on oysters and booze. And then checked out a showing of "The DaKinki Code" at The Lusty Lady. But that's another story... Anyway, on Fridays, oysters at Elliott's are 50 cents each, and then the price goes up incrimentally by 20 cents every half hour until 6 o'clock. It's f*ing brilliant. And they have oyster trivia, too. If you get one of their two oyster-related trivia questions correct, you get a free half dozen oysters. Also, we may or may not have gotten a free half dozen oysters on more than one occasion courtesy of Scott's smartphone + the intarwebs. Does that make us bad people? Or just smart... Maybe just greedy for free oysters. Isn't sinning for the sake of a free-oyster-payoff forgivable? Hmm? Anyone??

Also, I should say this: the Seattle Symphony is performing Beethoven's freaking Ninth Symphony at the end of the month. I'm totally going. It's going to be the greatest thing ever and, while I am going to try my very darndest to not soil myself in my seat during the final movement, I'm not going to make any promises. The end.


* By the way, these things are freaking expensive, man! Who knew?!

Poop.

It's 11am on Sunday morning, there is a light flurry of snow falling outside, I've just woken up, put a fresh pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen (which I will make sure to not mix any rank cream in, thank you very much), and have completed my morning BM. Aaaah, 'tis a good morning. I was praying to the BM angels last night that it would happen since, as I had mentioned before, we will be venturing out for another Salty's brunch buffet adventure in a couple of hours and this morning - erm - "cleansing" ensures an ever-more-satisfying visit to the Greatest Buffet In The Entire Universe. Life is pretty sweet.

Also, we went and saw "The Golden Compass" last night. Verdict? (cue trombones) Wah wah waaaah. Wow. Yeah, neither of us had ever read the book. I had no idea this movie, let alone the book, even existed two weeks ago. But still. I mean, this movie had so much promise. Hottie 007, Saruman and Gandalf, and hello?! Giant freaking polar bears! Ugh. But no dice. The flow of the screenplay was all over the place. It was like if they had tried to make a movie of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy in 90 minutes. It's going to skip all over the place and leave a bunch of stuff out (I'm assuming that's what happened with this movie, since every scene change seemed like a giant leap out of nowhere...). Also, Lyra was like 12 years old and already had bad coffee-stained teeth. Geez. Anyway, the polar bear fight near the end of the movie was pretty cool. I can say that much.

Ok, off to shower and then mentally prepare for the feasting! Huzzah!

***UPDATE***

Back from 2 hours at the buffet. We each had at least 3 plates. Actually, I'm almost certain I had 4 and Scott had 5...but after a while the ridiculous number of calories just kind of seeps into your brain and your memory becomes handicapped. What a glorious way to spend an afternoon.

OOOooooOOooOoog.

I think I put some bad milk in my coffee this morning. It was actually heavy cream (that's right baby). When I opened up the spout I noticed some thickness forming around the opening and just figured some of the cream had whipped itself somehow into actual whipped cream (what?). And then when I mixed it into my coffee I noticed that some of it wasn't mixing completely and was just floating to the top. And then I proceeded to drink my coffee. While eating some nachos. I'm not really sure which of those two were the poorer choices. Actually, I think the two together formed a Super Stupid Combo. Because now my stomach is feeling in a way it has not felt in a while. Stupid spoiled milk ruining my coffee...oh, to be punished by the one you love most!

In other news: Scott and I are going to the Salty's brunch buffet tomorrow with a couple of friends. Hurray! When my stomach is in a state where I even think about food without wanting to run to the bathroom I'll rejoice for real. Bah.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

There was an eff-ing car alarm that started shortly after midnight last night and was still going off when I left for work. I had this grand master plan to lay down on the couch and fall into a blissful slumber whilst watching a TiVo'ed episode of "Anthony Bourdain, No Reservations: India" so I could dream of curries and naan dipped in that creamed spinach delightfulness...but the damned car alarm wouldn't stop so I had to resort to going to bed instead. Hmph.

To make myself feel better (i.e. slightly less homicidal) this morning, I am guzzling a double Americano from this cute little cafe across the street from my work, which has the best espresso ever (shhh...don't tell Star*ucks). Their espresso machine was out of service for many many weeks and has only been back recently. And it could not have gotten fixed any sooner seeing as I was surely becoming known at that cafe as That Weird Girl Who Works Across The Street And Falls Into A Weeping Heap of Sorrow Every Time She Comes In And Sees Empty Counter Space Where The Espresso Machine Is Supposed To Be.

Anyway, I've got a rehearsal and a concert later today so I think I will use the rest of my "work" day to do some actual work. Spater!

Damn you, Blogger!!! *shakes fist angrily in air*

1. It's been a while since I've tried to save a post on here only to find out a couple of hours later that Blogger apparently didn't keep a copy of it. High holy hell. It would have been a good post, too...maybe (probably not). Anyhoo, on with today's post...

2. Good: Using company time to download a woodwind quintet on iTunes.

3. Bad: When your work computer is so pathetic that it takes over an hour to download a woodwind quintet on iTunes. Sheesh.

4. Today has got to be the gloomiest day Seattle has seen since the cold season began. Dark skies and torrential downpours. I love it. As I was driving to work today, it was so dark out that it looked like it was already the end of the day. Like, 6 pm. Like, time to turn around and go home. ...No? Won't work? *sigh* It was worth a shot.

5. Oh, hell's bells. I'm trying to buy a plane ticket home for Christmas, and the f*ing Orbitz page has been trying to load for 2 minutes!!! I'm resisisting the urge to spew out a massively long string of curse words whilst grabbing this useless hunk of metal, tearing the sockets out of the walls, and heaving it out the window. Somebody just try and stop me. This is the third piece of crap this company his dug up from the depths of the dungeon to replace all my previous pieces of crap and I am gradually building a graveyard of computers behind my deskchair. I think it's time for another...

6. Hmmm...coldy rainy day means soup for lunch, right? I'm thinking about swimming across the street to get some Tom Kha Gai. Oh, sweet Moses, that sounds good.

7. So with Scott gone this past weekend and me being too scared to drive anywhere during the Great Snowstorm of December the First 2007, I think I literally sat on my couch and stared alternately at my computer and television screens for roughly 14 straight hours on Saturday. As a result, my eyes are inredibly fatigued and can't look at bright lights (like, say, a computer monitor or television...oh, the sweet irony!) without being accompanied by a throbbing headache. Also, I've had a muscle spasm underneath my right eye since yesterday. It is maddening. So maddening, in fact, that I think I need to go home for the rest of the day and rest my weary eyeballs. ...Still no? Damn.

8. FLOOD WARNING!! WE HAVE TO EVACUATE!! Wow, dreams really do come true! Hurray!!!

***ADDENDUM***

9. Okay, continuing this list from home. It seems this winter storm is not one to make light of. Crazy floods are happening all over! A little too close for comfort, actually. Good thing we live on the second story! If not, I might have had to go get a pair of water wings for Bela :)

10. Good: Getting a phone call from a mother wanting clarinet lessons for her child.

11. Bad: Five minutes into the phone conversation, realizing that she was calling from Knoxville. Le sigh.

Hurray!

I walked outside to take out the garbage and it just started snowing!!!