riding the tides.

0908091652.jpg

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 23:59:00 +0000

Dallas is stalking her prey

"should"

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 20:30:00 +0000

I did not intend for my first post back to sound like this, but I guess I gotta start somewhere, right?

I am not one who challenges the status quo just for the sake of doing it. I don't even want to offer my opinions most of the time because I simply do not have the need to broadcast every single little aspect of my personality to every person I encounter... Which is probably why I don't have tattoos.

So I will just say, grabbing onto what you believe to be socially acceptable behavior and expecting to be praised for it qualifies as shallow in my book.

cop out

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 18:48:00 +0000

First blog entry in two months, and it's a meme? FAIL.

What are your middle names?
My middle name is now my former surname, which I kept so it would be easier for me to prove who I am once I changed my last name. BF's middle name is Alan.

How long have you been together?
We started dating in the spring of 2002.

How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We met on 15 June 2001, his first day of work.

Who asked whom out?
He asked me out and we went to the Long Beach Grand Prix on what turned out to be our first official date (i.e.: we totally had sex afterward, and possibly made out for a couple hours in public like teenagers). We went out before then, but only as friends.

How old are each of you?
I'm 28, he's 50. I don't even notice the age difference anymore, except when he tells me a story or anecdote and it begins with something like, "I was living in England in 1987 with first wife and two kids," and I can't help but yell out "I WAS SEVEN" Tourette's style.

Whose siblings do you see the most?
My sister. His brother lives all the way in Florida; we've never met.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple?
This is tough... I think it would be my inability to communicate properly nor in a timely manner. Or maybe it's those times when I'm 'disagreeable' and he asks me, "So, are you depressed or whatever right now?" because that's my favorite.

Did you go to the same school?
No. He went to Texas A&M and I attended community colleges in SoCal.

Are you from the same home town?
No. BF is from Houston, TX (born in Abilene) and I'm native to Orange County, CA.

Who is smarter?
He is for sure, but he claims I give him a run for his money.

Who is the most sensitive?
A couple years ago I would have said I am, but now I think we're tied. We're sensitive in different ways.

Where do you eat out most as a couple?
Kendall's Brasserie, adjacent to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. Otherwise, we can be found at our favorite place, our home kitchen.

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?
The Mediterranean, off the coast of France.

Who has the craziest exes?
HE DOES. The end.

Who has the worst temper?
He lets it out more often, but I wait until I go nuclear.

Who does the cooking?
We both do. I make a larger variety and he sticks to what he knows. I try new things more often, but when he decides to do something new he really goes out on a limb.

Who is the neat-freak?
We're both utter slobs and work our hardest not to be. Okay, we don't try, but we keep saying that maybe one day we might give a crap. Thank goodness for the housekeeper.

Who is more stubborn?
It's a draw. We're just stubborn about different things, thankfully. And when we are stubborn about the same thing, we usually are on the same side.

Who hogs the bed?
He claims I do, but I always wake up in the exact same place I remember falling asleep so I'm sure he's just making it up for kicks.

Who wakes up earlier?
He does. I'm not a morning person.

Where was your first date?
The Long Beach Grand Prix. Flirted, started drinking margaritas in the hot sun at 9AM, had lavish meals, followed by cocktails. I think we may be going again this year.

Who is more jealous?
He is. Definitely.

How long did it take to get serious?
We were serious from date #1, and were planning our lives together by Day Two.

Who eats more?
It's a draw. On the days I work out I eat more, on the days I don't he does.

Who does the laundry?
The Fluff-n-Fold by my office. I seriously couldn't be bothered to waste my time on it. But I'm the one who schleps it around.

Who's better with the computer?
Being that he was a programmer for the USAF for 10 years and a web designer for several years after that, I would have to say he is.

Who drives when you are together?
Usually he does, but he simply doesn't have the patience for LA traffic, where I grew up with it. But since I got my new car in December, I've been doing most of the driving.

2008 review

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 20:10:00 +0000

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?

I moved in with BF, changed legal addresses twice, started proceedings to legally change my last name.

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I typically don't make resolutions, but I made two for 2007: "One, to see my friends more often because I am so bad about that and I rely too much on e-mail and IM. Two, to actually show up for work on time. Maybe." The first one I did okay at but I didn't excel by any means; the second one was destined to be a failure. This year, I want to be 100% unpacked and organized by February *fingers crossed*

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

My puppy was born on 22 December. Her name is Dallas.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No.

5. What countries did you visit?

None.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?

More traveling, more focus at work, more home cooking. Start looking for a house to buy.

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Election Day. Even though I didn't vote for Obama. I voted for the other guy. No, the other other guy.

Ron Paul.

Because what good is a representative government when there are only two parties and they nominate people that resemble each other more than the people they are allegedly representing?

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Not getting fired. Same as last year.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Allowing getting fired to become a possibility.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Mmmm, not really. Not that I can recall. And if I did, it must have not been that bad.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

My new car!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

BF's.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

The general American public.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Paying off all my debt.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Moving in with BF, my new car.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
Lady Gaga - Just Dance. Also, I hate the name "Lady Gaga."

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? Happier
b) thinner or fatter? Thinner by a smidge
c) richer or poorer? Richer

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Exercise, eat tasty stuff, read.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Wasting time on random things.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

At our new apartment with my parents, my sister and her boyfriend.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?

More and more each day.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Battlestar Galactica! And Whatever, Martha.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

No.

24. What was the best book you read?

It wasn't the best written book, but it was engaging subject matter: Escape by Caolyn Jessop.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Probably Sigur Rós. I liked them before, but I really got to listen to a lot of their stuff this year.

26. What did you want and get?

My new car, my new puppy, my new sewing machine, my new apartment.

27. What did you want and not get?

Nothing really. Nothing material, at least. I could have worked harder to keep myself more focused, though.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

Bolt, Wall-E, Transsiberian. I also saw some movies for the first time in 2008 that I loved: Heima, El Crimen del padre Amaro and Perfume: The Story of a Murderer.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 28 and went on a job interview.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

More time, more sleep.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?

This one makes me LOL every year I do this. This year my personal fashion concept was Try To Keep Clothes Stain-Free.

32. What kept you sane?

BF, Friends, Puppy.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

George Clooney. Duh.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?

Pretty much all of them.

35. Who did you miss?

N/A

36. Who was the best new person you met?

I actually met a couple new people this year that I am now friends with.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.

I didn't really learn anything new, I just lived my philosophy the best I could.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

"Let me drink you, please, I wont spill a drop, no, I promise you; lying under this spell you cast on me; each moment the more I Love You."

two more videos

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 19:29:00 +0000

I got a new phone a few weeks ago (shut up I didn't realize it was called Voyager until after I purchased it) and this is the first video I took (inadvertently, I thought I was taking a still photo) of my dog sitting in the sunshine, his favorite pastime. He is not amused.

And here's another one, taken earlier on the same day as the video in the previous post, where I, again, cannot help talking like a crazy lady.

public service announcement

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 18:21:00 +0000

I read several food blogs, and more often than not they recommend risottos as a simple and easy weeknight dinner. I've been slacking these past couple weeks on making dinner partly due to the out of control schedule I was keeping, but mostly because I'm exhausted by the freezer full of the same proteins we always eat: tilapia, chicken thighs and rib eyes. I am a fan of risottos, but BF wasn't until recently when we were late for our dinner reservations before the opera and were limited to the bar menu. He took a chance on risotto (despite having deemed them "grody looking") and loved it, but it provided stiff competition for me as a home cook.

On Sunday night, I was flipping through the November issue of Real Simple before bed and I saw a recipe for sweet potato risotto. I had been holding on to my recipe for bacon and egg risotto as my inaugural attempt at risotto, but I had a lone sweet potato in the kitchen that I was hoping to use up and I have been trying to incorporate more vegetables into our diet, so this seemed like the perfect recipe for me.

I won't go into details, but after all that time on my feet stirring and stirring and stirring, Operation Homemade Risotto was closed:

For future reference, I do not recommend complex carbs layered on starches in risottos. It's pretty much gross.

Now for your viewing pleasure, my dog running down the hall:

I swear, I don't normally talk like that. I don't know why, but my voice goes all haywire whenever I am talking to my dog. I simply cannot help it.

getting political

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Mon, 27 Oct 2008 20:18:00 +0000

I met a girlfriend for lunch at Duke's on Saturday at the Huntington Beach Pier, only to encounter a large Yes On Prop 8 rally, which culminated in police intervention just as I arrived. It's common knowledge that California is a blue state, but Huntington Beach is in Orange County, arguably the reddest county in the nation; such a protest was hardly surprising.

For those outside of California, the entire text of Proposition 8 is as follows:

"Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid and recognized in California."

Straightforward enough, right?

Well, since the obvious choice for me on this is No, I haven't really been paying attention to the ads on this issue until last week when a friend of mine mentioned her confusion regarding one of the ads which stated that a result of No vote on Prop 8 would be that "we" would start "teaching homosexuality" in schools.

What?!

I went to the Yes on Prop 8 website, cleverly hosted at ProtectMarriage.com to read up on what the other side was saying. Let me tell you, I was gobsmacked at what I read:

Voting YES on Proposition 8 does 3 simple things:
It restores the definition of marriage to what the vast majority of California voters already approved and what Californians agree should be supported, not undermined.

It overturns the outrageous decision of four activist Supreme Court judges who ignored the will of the people.

It protects our children from being taught in public schools that “same-sex marriage” is the same as traditional marriage, and prevents other consequences to Californians who will be forced to not just be tolerant of gay lifestyles, but face mandatory compliance regardless of their personal beliefs.

To that I say:

Per the Protect Marriage website, "Proposition 8 places into the California Constitution the same language that voters already passed by 61% of the vote in 2000." In 2000, 44% of the population voted, so assuming that everyone who voted in 2000 chose to vote on everything on the ballot (i.e.: not just for President), that would mean that roughly 27% of the population of the state of California passed that measure. Hardly a "vast majority."

The Supreme Court does not exist to enforce the "will of the people," it exists to uphold the Constitution. Political Science 101.

It is a fact that the law of California as of June 2008 states that same-sex marriage is legal, and if one chooses to receive the benefits of living in the state of California and enroll their children in public school, then one should expect that the laws of the state will be taught. For those who disagree with the laws of the land, the option of private or parochial schools exists.

Period.

On November 4th, I'll be voting No on Proposition 8.

higher education

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 21:43:00 +0000

So, I'm currently enrolled at SDSU in an abbreviated version of their Masters Program in Biomedical Quality Systems at their Center for Bio/Pharmaceutical and Biodevice Development, which will award me with an "Advanced Certificate" upon completion. Work has been nuts lately so my statistics paper had to be submitted a week late, and according to the syllabus, that means I should have had 10% deducted from my grade. Well, not only did I get an A (100%) on the first paper I have written in over five years that was shorter-than-required and written on the fly, I received full credit and a note from my instructor saying my paper was the best he has seen. It makes me wonder: Am I really that good or is he just not paying attention? I think it's the latter. Not that I'm complaining, I'll take an A any way I can get it.

briefly...

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 22:06:00 +0000

My workout routine has been progressing swimmingly, and starting next week I will be ready to move into a five-times-a-week schedule. I've been ~~losing weight~~ expending excess stored energy at the rate of about 1.25lbs per week for roughly 12 weeks for a grand total of 15lbs. That's five pounds shy of the arbitrary goal that was set for me during my gym orientation, but I am still proud of myself and rewarded myself with Double Stuff Oreos. After my Oreo binge (well, I ate five, but that's a lot for a person who isn't prone to snacking, especially on sweeets) I drank two cokes and immediately felt guilty. I haven't been dieting and even though the pounds are dropping a smidge faster than I wanted them to (I had a goal of 1lb a week), I felt like a diet change was needed.

I've been on a vegetarian lunch kick for a few months, which I wouldn't describe as a diet, in fact, quite the opposite. My goal was to force myself to eat three meals a day (I typically only eat one), and since Subway is a mere 3 blocks from my office and since I always get the veggie sandwich when I go there, the Vegetarian Lunch Plan was born. Today I made a stop at the market to pick up lunch and some stuff to stock the work fridge when I saw a little bag of tiny cheese flavored rice cakes. BF's son is on a serious diet so he can join the Air Force and BF mentioned that rice cakes would be a good idea for him, so I decided to try them out. I opened the bag on the drive back to the office and even though they were coated with a thick layer of neon orange cheese flavoring product, I ate one anyway. And let me tell you, it was the single most vile thing I have ever put into my mouth. Never again will I succumb to the thought of going on a diet.

checking in

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 17:30:00 +0000

Just wanted to say hello. Been busier than usual this summer, with starting my class at SDSU and Project Cohabitation 2008, but hopefully I can wrap everything up and say goodbye to summer this holiday weekend. My last big summer task is to finish my move, and with my walk-thru scheduled for Sunday morning, that's a hard deadline rather than wishful thinking.

I am off work tomorrow (Friday) to paint a couple walls in my old apartment before tackling the deep cleaning on Saturday, but before I do that I have a phone screening with a biotech company in Van Nuys, so I guess that scheduling worked out well. Wish me luck and hopefully I can post more next week.

let's make sexy time

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 17:56:00 +0000

This morning as I was standing around and hovering over BF in an attempt to hurry him up because I needed to leave:

I'm completely dressed and you're still damp from the shower.

You can't rush all of this (points to self in mirror).

Oh my god, seriously.

Wait, I need to apply my sexy juice for the ladies (applies cologne).

You mean the "sexy juice" that anyone can have for eighty bucks at the Chanel counter?

Yeah. That.

conversation

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 17:13:00 +0000

Early this morning, after scampering around like a couple love-struck teenagers, while getting dressed and organized for the day:

So, I had a dream about Josh Turner.

Josh Turner.

Yes, and it involved his penis, I AM JUST SAYING.

Oh yeah? Well, I had a dream about Hannah Montana.

Do you even know who Hannah Montana is?

Yeah, you can't go anywhere without seeing her face plastered everywhere.

You know, I heard she's a big ole hoe.

Just the way I like it!

stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 23:43:00 +0000

Things that have been stressing me out lately:

Work and all things related, including but not limited to: The simultaneous stacks and lack of, the attitudes of certain co-workers, the status of everything up top at corporate, my pending audit by the Germans, and the fact that I may have an interview lined up sooner rather than later (i.e.: how will I explain this to my boss).
The boy leaving in two weeks, pros as well as the cons.
My apartment full of stuff have has to be sorted, disposed of, packed and/or stored in the two weeks after the boy leaves.
Finding a new house to rent and establish base camp for The First Home Purchase 2009.
My birthday. 12AUG04: Mother diagnosed with cancer. 12AUG06: Mother totals truck, spends six months bed-ridden due to a compound ankle fracture. 12AUG08: TBD.
The fact that all of the above has prevented me from seeing my friends as of late. I need them to ground me and calm me right now, and I just can't make it happen.

family bonding

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 22:45:00 +0000

BF's son has been visiting from Sweden for exactly one month and one day, and during that time, BF has told me that I am a good mother about three times.

The first time I completely dismissed it. I often receive food gifts from my co-workers in the form of fresh fruits and vegetables, but since the boy almost exclusively eats fruit in lieu of candy or other sweets, the champagne mango I brought home a couple weeks ago might as well have been a sheet pan of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. He pounced on it almost immediately after I put it in the fruit bowl, but I told him we'd have to wait because it wasn't fully ripe yet, at least one more day and most likely two. Two nights later I checked on it and it was ready. It was probably too late for a snack, but since I had told him he could have it and it was so perfectly ripe, I cut up that mango for him. BF walked in and asked what I was doing (he had never seen the standard mango cut before) and when he asked why I was cutting up my prized champagne mango, I said because I had promised the boy he could have it when it was ripe. He tasted it and walked out, but later that night as we were settling into bed, he told me that I was a good mother for cutting up that mango for him. I smiled at him, but I thought to myself "If all it takes to be a good mother is following through on promises, I don't know why it should be considered a feat."

The following week I spent a good couple hours playing shadow puppets with the kid, which again garnered a commendation from BF. I shrugged it off.

This past weekend, we went on a camping trip. It was hot and everyone was cranky (incidentally, we ended up leaving a day early on account of the stagnant heat). We had just come back to camp after a long hike on the river - in search of the elusive and ultimately absent fish - and BF and the boy decided to retire to their respective tents for a short rest, suffering the effects of heavy exertion in the midday sun. I was tidying up camp and readying everything for dinner prep when the boy stuck his head out of his tent complaining about the heat. I went back and forth with him trying to convince him to put his head under the camp faucet (he thought I was "tricking" him into putting his head under hot water for some reason, probably because the water for my morning shower was literally scalding due to some unknown malfunction and I announced it as such when I emerged from the local camp bathroom) in an attempt to cool him down. I had already stuck my head under the faucet a couple times in order to keep myself from overheating as I am wont to do and I removed my hat to show him my wet hair. He remained unconvinced and I could tell by the look in his eyes that the heat was on the verge of breaking him. I helped him out of his tent and into his shoes, walked him to the nearest faucet, turned the water on and let him feel it and then put my own head under it to prove it was no trick. I helped him wet his head down and led him back to the tent he was sharing with his sister, instructed him step-by-step how to clean his feet and get back in without tracking dirt into the tent. He was resistant almost to the point of bratty the entire time, but I knew he was just having a minor meltdown from the heat. He lives in Sweden after all, and such heat is unheard of back home.

Not an hour later we decided that enough was enough and packed up camp in record time (in spite of misplacing the keys and having to unload the truck in search of them after having just finished loading it) and as we were packing, BF pulled me aside and said: You really are a good mom to him. Or big sister. Whatever you want to call it. At first I was startled by the fact that he even heard the 30-minute interaction, I thought he was asleep. He went on to say that I know just how to talk to him, how to be helpful without barking instructions. He said that I am patient and that he never would have handled his whining the way I did, not in that miserable heat. He said he was incredibly proud of me.

That's when I finally broke. I smiled and thanked him. I felt good about all the time I got to spend with the boy this summer. I felt successful in my attempt to integrate myself into BF's family. I finally understood what a great and rare tool patience is. Most of all, I took pride in a compliment I never in a million years thought I would ever want to receive.

mumbling

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 19:31:00 +0000

The L-Word was mentioned at work today: Lay Offs.

This wasn't uttered in my direction and isn't a product of the current faltering economy, but it speaks to the general state of business up top at corporate and their overall lack of planning and knowledge of manufacturing (biomedical manufacturing, the industry I am in for those who don't know). I think this is the final straw for me. I am very much a Work To Live type person, not Live To Work (and by extension, I am also a Live To Eat person, not Eat To Live, which sure as hell explains a whole lot). While I am, even in spite of my laziness and generally detached attitude, pretty damned good at my job and paid handsomely for it (perhaps even, dare I say, overpaid), the lackluster pace at which I move through my days is starting to wear on me.

I am very much a realist. I am very much aware of just how lucky I am, of how blessed I am. I am very much aware of the fact that complaining because I don't have fun day in and day out at my job is probably the last thing on the ever-growing list of things wrong in this world; it is for that reason that I soldier on.

I have this argument with myself over and over again: survival versus quality of life. The facts remain: I have my health, I have a home, I have friends, I live in a first world industrialized country, and - for all intents and purposes - I am free. And the fact of the matter is, I'm not even unhappy, I am merely dissatisfied. I can't help but feel like a spoiled selfish brat for even discussing this in the first place.

BF has been urging me for years to quit working and write. The very idea is just ludicrous to me, but now that things are coming to a head at work, it's got me thinking. I need to do something. I need to make a change. But I also need to pay the bills. Figuring out how to do both is the tricky part.

delicious

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 21:28:00 +0000

Do you ever feel like the universe is trying to tell you something? Do you ever find that a certain something, a little piece of whatever keeps on coming up over and over?

I am not talking about my earthquake ESP, even though I totally called that one. I spent the last month or two slowly but surely prophetizing an earthquake in 2008; when I told my girlfriend Kate about it last week, she wanted hard details and I predicted it would be 6.0 or more, before the end of the calendar year. Now, I realize that it was initially deemed a 5.8 and then downgraded to a 5.4, but since the local news spent the entire day broadcasting earthquake updates and even paid a visit to the CalTech Earthquake Lady, I consider it a successful prediction. Add in the fact that even though I spent all weekend moving, I chose to go ahead with my usual Monday work/gym routine in spite of some hideous back pain, and then opted to take Tuesday off instead. ESP, I tell you.

(Also: I feel such a deep sense of relief and comfort when the Earthquake Lady makes her television appearances, she inspires a sense of almost familial community with my fellow Southern Californians. I was thinking about it yesterday, and Dr. Kate Hutton has been upgraded to Hero status, a position she shares only with the great Mr. Huell Howser.)

Anyway... Do you ever find the same random and off-topic item working it's way into your life day after day? Do you consider it a sign? Do you act on it?

Well, it's been happening to me, and I've decided to do something about it. I am talking about making my own spicy dill pickles and pork pâté from scratch. I'm not sure what it says about me when I admit that homemade pickles and pâté have made an almost daily appearance in my day-to-day conversations, but you know what? I really don't care. All I know is I need to make a homemade offering to the food gods as soon as I possibly can.

one uppance

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 17:47:00 +0000

On Saturday morning after a particularly late Friday night, when BF took the dog out at 9AM (which is considered late) he ran into a neighbor whose dog Chips particularly gets along with. They were standing around watching the dogs play, relaxed in their Saturday Morning stupor, when this neighbor tells BF that she was up late and during a mini-rant to her BF about how she thinks she's getting fatter as she ages (she is 50), he says to her "Oh, I'm hungry!" and all woes were forgotten as they proceeded to warm up some fried chicken.

BF smirks at her and says, "I got you beat. I made us some blueberry pancakes from scratch and crispy bacon at 3AM."

We're in a whole other league.

reality

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 20:07:00 +0000

One of the most important things about moving to a new place is also the most dreaded, especially in the context of the combining of households as a relationship milestone: programming the DVR.

First of all, I would like to state for the record that I am not addicted to television and I don't need to watch TV live as it airs in real time. I am perfectly content to let the DVR record everything and settling in to watch some shows at some later date when I have nothing better to do. With that said, if the DVR doesn't record my shows for whatever reason, I am likely to have a small panic attack; however this has been curbed lately by the fact that I have a subscription to Netflix as insurance. Ahem. Also, I should probably admit that I make a spreadsheet every fall to document what I will watch for that television season, what times and channels they air, which shows conflict and their orders of precedence. Do not judge me.

Last week when BF realized that all he had recorded were martial arts movies and documentaries from the Military Channel, he handed me the remote and told me to take some time to program all of my recordings. I recently had my DVR replaced, so it wasn't a complete lie when I told him that I couldn't remember everything I had programmed: I was still struggling to get the new DVR back at my apartment up to par after a few months of re-programming attempts. As it is, BF already pokes fun at most of the stuff I watch: Shear Genius, Ugly Betty, Project Runway, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and The Girls Next Door among others. But there are just so many more shows that I watch that I can't bear to own up to.

Tori & Dean: I have no idea why I watch this. I didn't even watch Beverly Hills 90210 way back when. Which reminds me, I am so excited for the new incarnation of that show. Oh, the shame of it all.

The Hills: I'm 27 and a watch a show on MTV. There are so many things wrong with that.

Ghost Hunters: They're plumbers by day, Ghost Hunters by night. What's not to love?!

Cheaters: I know I'm not the only one who could not take their eyes off the TV when Joey Greco got stabbed on that boat.

The Next Food Network Star: This show is so niche, that I'm convinced that I'm the sole target demographic. P.S. - GO LISA!

And then there are the shows that I don't record but that I will watch should I come across them on a particularly lazy Saturday or Sunday: Kathy Griffin My Life on the D-List, Denise Richards It's Complicated, Snoop Dogg's Father Hood, Sunset Tan, Jon & Kate plus 8... The list goes on and on. I just hope our relationship can survive the revelation of all my dirty little secrets.

midnite snack

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 18:52:00 +0000

When I was growing up, our kitchen closed at 9:00. There was to be absolutely no food consumed after closing, a rule that was generally followed save for the occasional hunks of cheese or pickle sandwiches that were expertly smuggled out by my sister and myself. (I have a general aversion to mayonnaise, but to this day I still get the occasional overwhelming craving for wheat bread with mayo and pickle slices, a sandwich I have never been able to replicate to satiate that childhood nostalgia.) This kitchen rule was so ingrained in me, I didn't even consider breaking it upon entering adulthood.

Enter, BF.

When we started dating, he was still keeping an apartment in Houston and commuting to Los Angeles, two weeks working, one week off. He opted not to get an apartment in Los Angeles and instead chose to set up camp in the Extended Stay America five minutes from his office; it suited his bachelor lifestyle well with it's kitchenette, laundromat and twice-weekly maid service.

(We always drive past that Extended Stay for our bimonthly foray to Costco and we always smile a knowing smile at each other every time we do. We made a lot of memories there.)

One night I awoke to what sounded like kitchen sounds. I rolled over, too tired to sit fully up, and observed the inexplicable sight of BF naked in the kitchenette standing over the sink, a cheese sandwich in one hand and a jalapeño pepper in the other, alternating bites.

What the hell are you doing?

What.

Do you know what time it is?

I'm having a snack.

A snack.

Yeah, don't you get hungry int he middle of the night?

Yes I do, but I wait until morning to eat. Eating in the middle of the night is not allowed!

Fast forward to last night.

This week has been rough on me for various reasons, including a small incident at home related to our new cohabitant status and my usual lack of communication. We cleared the air yesterday and celebrated with a glass of vino that turned into two bottles. We finally got ourselves into bed at 1:30 and we had just settled in when BF turns to me and says he's hungry. I start to protest but I was immediately silenced and up and running to the kitchen when he uttered two small but powerful words, near and dear to my heart: Grilled Cheese.

Cheddar, gruyère, dijon and black forest ham, crisped up to a perfect golden brown in some butter in a cast iron skillet, a cornichon and some extra dijon on the side (eaten over the kitchen sink, of course). I don't think I could get any closer to god.

togetherness

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 17:34:00 +0000

I didn't realize it until this past weekend, but when BF and I are together, we are attached at the hip. This practice must have unconsciously grown out of our previous schedule of one weekend together two weeks off, a habit that has been rendered unnecessary now that we live together. I was in the living room watching television on Saturday evening while BF was in the bedroom doing some interneting and we both kept getting up and going to check on each other, just generally lingering about for some mysterious and arbitrarily decided length of time before we went back to what we were doing. I found myself standing in the middle of the bedroom for the third time that night, just looking around and being generally uncomfortable before I realized what was going on. I promptly turned around and busied myself elsewhere until it was bedtime.

Sunday afternoon I was feeling kind of blah and headachey, a result of the hectic, irregular and insufficient sleeping schedule I've been maintaining as of late, so I parked myself on the couch and just zoned out. BF was doing some more interneting (apparently his favorite method of lounging, I am just now discovering), but he kept re-positioning his laptop set-up all over the living room: next to me on the couch, on the floor, on the coffee table, on the loveseat. Finally he looked at me and said almost in a panic, Oh my god, is everything okay? Are you alright? You're making me nervous!

Yeah, I'm fine.

I feel all weird, like I'm ignoring you.

You haven't been more than fifteen feet away from me all day.

But I feel like there's a lack on interaction.

Well, it's kind of hard to interact AND watch television AND internet all at the same time.

Are you mad? You sound mad. I can't believe you're mad that I'm interneting!

I didn't say I was mad.

Look, I can't entertain you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

I realize that--

You're going to have to get used to all of this.

I didn't--

I can't deal with this right now, I'm going to use the bedroom computer.

Babe, I wasn't--

Seriously, Angela, I just need an hour of uninterrupted solitude.

Okay, I'm sorry. You take all the time you need.

officially official lack of planning

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 19:11:00 +0000

BF and I have officially moved in together.

However, I have yet to officially move out of my old apartment. This is a little bit of a problem.

bulleted list

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 16:38:00 +0000

It seems like forever since the last time I updated! I don't know where the time has gone, but I do know where to begin:

A month ago, at his suggestion, BF took me to see my first opera. We started with a Saturday evening playing of Tosca, followed a week later with a Sunday matinée of La Rondine. In all honesty, I was afraid I'd hate it and maybe even succumb to boredom and fall asleep, but it wasn't like that at all and I was completely engaged and engrossed the entire time. There were two twenty minute intermissions and we were able to break for some champagne and a smoke on the veranda. I am now addicted to the opera and anxiously awaiting start of the 08/09 season. Our anniversary is the last weekend of August, so I think I'll purchase tickets for Carmen on or around December 1st, BF's (50th!) birthday, as my gift to him; hopefully it will throw him off the scent of the birthday gift I have planned for him.
BF's son has arrived for the summer and I've pretty much been cooking and cleaning, cooking and cleaning, cooking and cleaning everyday since the day he arrived. Add in work and my gym schedule and it makes for a tightly packed week. It's not like I mind though, he's only here for a couple months and it's actually kind of nice to keep so busy. And it's not like I don't have room for some Me Time. Last night I managed to make enough homemade croûtons for a month, bake a loaf of date bread using up the last of our fresh dates, and squeeze in some reading.
My gym thing is working out. I'm not losing weight, but I've been able to indulge in things like Strawberry Fanta now and again and not feel guilty about it. I am, however, working at counteracting the effects of my nicotine habit via elliptical machine. An interesting and unexpected side effect is that I'm smoking less, but that doesn't mean I don't indulge in my post-workout smoke because it's just too good. Also, this whole gym thing seems to be working out for BF as well, because there has been an awful lot of ass grabbing lately.

on the job

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 21:31:00 +0000

"I has a window office."

progress

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 18:58:00 +0000

BF and I have been playing house for the past several weeks (his live-in son is visiting his mother for the summer and his live-abroad son isn't due for his summer visit until late next week) and during that time I experienced a brain malfunction. The first time this happened in his presence was on the last couple days of our French holiday almost a year ago. He assumed it was due to our inexperience with living with one another day in and day our for so long, and I didn't bother to correct him. It came up in conversation before we started dating all those years ago, I gave him a brief rundown of the various medications I tried over the years, and that was the last time we spoke of it until a few weeks ago. I don't like sharing these things with him because I like to keep it separated from my "real" life. I apologized for not keeping it all under wraps and told him I was doing my best. He tried to get to the root of the problem, he wanted me to talk it out with him. I told him that the problem was my brain. Not something he did, it's not anyone's fault; I learned a long time ago that being depressed about work or a relationship or life in general is not the cause, it's the effect.

He just looked at me and said okay. That was the first time I have ever been able to verbalize so rationally, calmly, and concisely the very thing that has plagued me my entire life. I now feel redeemed in my decision to forgo meds and therapy.

hov

noreply@blogger.com (Angela) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 21:39:00 +0000

I was driving to work this morning, speeding with the flow of traffic on the 5S at 80mph somewhere between Disneyland and the 55 when all of a sudden this woman merges across four lanes of traffic from the on-ramp and cuts me off. At 80mph. I breathe deep and try to maintain my calm appearance with a sip of my heavenly thai iced coffee. But I'm screaming at her in my head.

When I'm moving in fast paced traffic, I keep three to four car lengths of space between me and the car in front of me. When I'm at a stop on the freeway, I keep one car length in front of me. I cannot tell you how many times this practice has saved my ass. I should also mention that I've been in multiple car pileups before, but I was always the car that broke the chain because of the buffer I insist on maintaining. This is for your safety, people. It is not an open invitation to merge in front of me. Now you can understand why being cut off with four car lengths of space in front of me really pissed me off. With all that room, she had to cut it to within feet of my bumper. It was just plain reckless.

Then, she merged into the next lane, cutting off the car next to me, causing him to panic and swerve a bit. And then, she crossed the double yellow lines into the HOV lane. That's when I noticed she had a baby in the backseat. Nothing raises my blood pressure in the morning quite like people with infants in the HOV lane. First of all, since when are two passengers considered "high occupancy?" It should be at least three. Secondly, in order for said passengers to qualify they should be in possession of a drivers license or at least be of driving age. I mean, if you can take your day old infant into the HOV lane, why can't I take my dog? My dog is at least twice as smart as a baby, and he doesn't shit himself.

But the more I thought about it, the more I understood it. If the HOV laws were put to a vote, no one would vote to exclude infants and children as HOV passengers. Hell, if I had the opportunity to throw a kid in the back seat, you know damn well I'd be merging into the HOV lane and giving everyone the finger as I went. It's almost worth reproducing. Think of all the time I'd save on my commute.