The Spurious Plum

I Don't Even Watch TV, But This Is Totally Hot

As anyone seen the new David LaChapelle trailer for Lost?

Uh, Portisehead and running mascara? Yum.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/31/2005 08:15:00 AM 7 comments

A Special Post For Captain Sarcasm

Last night my old friend, Captain Sarcasm, flew in for a visit and gave me a hard time for not having anything nice to say about Pittsburgh on my blog. Bucko, I've lived here for two long, looooong years, and this is all I've got:

THINGS I LIKE ABOUT PITTSBURGH

#1 - The Lego Guy in Shadyside. C'mon. He's a pirate! ARRRR!


#2 - The beer grotto in Regent Square. Beer and a grotto? HOT!


#3 - The giant orange fish at Nakama. Since Pennsylvania's a landlocked state, I won't be getting sushi there. T'aint natural.


#4 - The National Aviary, with their fatty, turkey-sized Victoria crowned pigeons. The National Aviary website notes that Victoria crowned pigeons are "by far the largest and perhaps the most magnificent of all pigeons". I wish all pigeons looked like that...they wouldn't get that flying rat rap so often.


#5 - Cecil the Teenage Raccoon. He's the ultimate forager. He's tolerated because, other than looking a sorta stoned, he's really cute. And if you're cute, you get foraging privileges at my house. Yes, this applies to Mateo, too.


#6 - Lots of bridges. The only city in the world with more bridges than Pittsburgh is St. Petersburg, Russia. Unlike St. Petersburg, you can sometimes wear shorts in Pittsburgh. For like a month. Maybe.


#7 - Our neighbor's dog, Java. Holy shit, I love this dog. I get back from work and she's in our neighbor's yard, shaking her furry little ass off. Doesn't she look like she's smiling? She likes rolling in my yard. Can you tell? Goddamn, I need a dog.


#8 - Ahh, the beauty of decay. Everything in Pittsburgh is sorta falling apart. But it usually looks at least interesting while it's doing it. I mean, come on, when has a rotting VW van ever looked so cool?


#9 - The very best thing about Pittsburgh is when really old friends come to visit. That's so cheesy, I'll even use sepia. Muchas smoochas, Captain Sarcasm! Thanks for the visit!

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Random Fruit Fact: The Honeyberry

The honeyberry's from Russia, maybe it's been to St. Petersburg...

"The honeyberry is related to the honeysuckle. However, unlike the honeysuckle, this small tree produces edible blue berry-like fruit usually in early summer."

Learn more about the honeyberry, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/29/2005 10:08:00 AM 11 comments

In Which My Extra Boob Reduces Mateo To Some Feral State

One of the most noticeable inconveniences of the 3rd boob (w/ accompanying incision accessory) is that my stitches have to stay in for a month. A month! Drs. Slice, Dice, and Scar Me For Life frown upon my lifting stuff, doing dishes or vacuuming. (Not that ever do this stuff, being a lazy little slug...squish-squish).

But in the very near future, not lifting things is going to be a problem. Cause I’m moving. How do you move without lifting things? Now let me be clear here in case I’ve mislead anyone, I’m NOT A LITTLE DELICATE FUCKING FLOWER. When shit goes down, I come correct. Once, when Mateo was out of town for a conference, I saw good deal on a couch and moved said couch, by myself. Just stick some stars on my panties and give me a freaky golden lasso, I’m Wonder Plum, bitches.

All unnecessary egotistical outbursts aside, this whole ‘try not to move your arm for the next month’ thing puts a cramp in my style. To ease the move, I decided to get rid of extraneous stuff by posting in Craigslist's 'free' section, and was subsequently deluged with freaks wanting my end tables. I literally got 50 emails in 12 hours. On the Pittsburgh Craigslist. I’m not sure how well acquainted you are with Craigslist's wonder and majesty, but the Pittsburgh list is usually pretty sorry, so the response blew me away. I got rocked so hard that the day I posted, someone ran off with the bedside table next to my sleeping husband (Mateo woke up, found no bedside table, and was understandably confused).

After Mateo woke up, I told him about the throngs clamoring for our non-spotty, non-pet-smell-imbued couch and other furniture items.

Mateo: “Pretty good response, huh? Maybe we should’ve charged for this stuff…”

Me: “Yeah, I didn’t think it could be like this. Someone called and wanted to know if they could pick up our huge ass computer desk tomorrow.”

Mateo: “Um, no way.”

Me: “But I already agreed to…”

Mateo: “ Uh-uh. We’re not moving for another month, and I’m not living like an animal.”

Me (laughing): Is this what they taught you growing up in Orange County? That living without a computer desk is ‘living like an animal’??

Mateo: “Well…yeah.”
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Random Fruit Fact: The Sunchoke

“Wrap sunchokes in a plastic bag, seal, and store in the refrigerator crisper. They will keep for up to two weeks. If you have a cool, dark storage place, such as a dry cellar, they can also be kept there.”

Unlike the sunchoke, the stitches in my chest will keep for a month. I don’t wanna live in the cellar though…Learn more about the sunchoke, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/27/2005 05:40:00 PM 12 comments

Busy Day - OR - Why I Now Have Three Tits

Things I did today:

-Finished most of my evil training grant at work. I'm hoping if I recycle a copy, it'll wind up as someone's toilet paper in its second life. Does paper have karma?

-Ate a pepperoni bagel for lunch, even though it's bad for me. C'mon! All aboard the Carbs & Spicy Meat Express! Woo-woo!

-Had supersuspiciousmole surgery. My recent biopsy of a left boob mole came back "suspicious", prompting a call from my dermatologists office asking to “scoop the rest of that little guy out". Bullshit. By the time they finished, that 'little guy' was an ugly ass 4 inch incision on my chest, covered by 60 feet of bandage that's GLUED and TAPED into the shape of a third boob. I've been instructed to keep my boob trinity holy for 4 weeks. Boo. No worries though, my vanity hurts more than the boob.* Does Bali make bras for three boobed gauzy tape-mutants?

-Got my new glasses.


They look brown to you, but everything looks sky blue inside. Could have used these in the PA winter...


-Got pizza. Yes. Pepperoni two times in one day. I have three boobs. Any one with a boob triptych totally deserves a ticket to ride the Carbs & Spicy Meat Express. Woo-woo!

*Just how is my vain ass supposed to return to California with a third tit? It's not even a perky one!

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/25/2005 07:52:00 PM 19 comments

Procrastination - OR - Why I Was Almost Distracted By Shiny Stuff On The Way To This Post

Everyone procrastinates. Some of us are just way, waaaaaaay more talented at it than others. And while I’m not a professional procrastination machine (except when I’m at work, then I’m the Shaquille O’Neal of procrastination), I still like to think I’m pretty talented. For example, in preparing to write a post about procrastination, I had to stave off some ACTUAL procrastination just to get it done. Yep. I keep it real for you guys.

One of procrastination's joys is its ability to insidiously creep into strange areas of your life. For instance, if I see something interesting in a magazine, I'll fold the page so I can get back to it later. Do I ever get back to it? NO. I wind up investigating the folds when I’m ready to move and can’t bring myself to pack 3 boxes of magafuckingzines.

Which is why I’m currently surrounded by a metric assload of random publications, each with tiny folds marking pages containing...something. As an equal opportunity folder, I usually can’t even figure out why I folded the page in the first place. Meaning, I may have folded the page for any of the following reasons:

A.) I liked a cute silver jacket that I’ll be able to wear when I lose 900 pounds or revert to my original embryonic state.

B.) I couldn’t believe that Burberry made flowered bicycle shorts.

C.) I liked a CD review and wanted to hear it on Amazon before I ordered it from the library. (If I don’t check them out, they will suck ass and not sound anything like their description, and embarrass me in front of Mateo, whom I’m still desperately trying to trick into thinking I’m cool).

D.) I wanted to clip some smartypants article and send it to someone. Who? Beats me.

E.) I bought the magazine in the supermarket and decided I’d rather stare wistfully at the Crème de Mer bottle in the privacy of my own home, where I can weep and no one will see my mascara run.

In addition to being such an accomplished procrastination artiste, did I mention I have a bad memory as well? Cause I do. I’ll tell you about it later, I swear.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Silver Maple

If I can’t get a silver jacket, maybe I can get a silver tree…

“Fruits…hang in clusters from Silver Maple in spring. Each fruit is composed of a thick anchoring seed attached to an elongated, wide wing that may be straight or curved. In springs that do not have many frosts, heavy fruit litter may result from some trees.”

Screw that. Nobody likes a tree that litters. Learn more about the silver maple's filthy habits, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/22/2005 06:47:00 PM 12 comments

To Be Or Not To Be? Who The Hell Knows?

Mateo and I are getting ready for our move back to LA and have 5.3 farfillion things to do. Since we're super on-the-ball, we've pretty much decided on NOTHING. Everything’s floating in the air right now, and it’s freaking me out.

Our landlord may/may not kick us out of our Pittsburgh lease early, meaning we’d either have to squat in our own apartment or leave early (which we’re sooooo not prepared for, because, as I've mentioned, we’ve done NOTHING).

We may/may not attach a tow hitch to the Spuriousmobile (4 cylinders of power, baby) to tow a trailer 2,500 miles to LA. Or we may/may not rent a truck (Mateo’s friend may/may not fly out to help us move).

When we get to LA, Mateo may/may not have a job, and my old boss may/may not rehire me. We may/may not have an apartment, and our friend has decided he may/may not be our roommate.

I may/may not be able to register for classes at the local community college in West LA, depending on what’s still available. And my parents have said I may/may not be able to use my old car when we arrive.

Some of these things are interconnected, but most aren’t. At this point we’re just trying to gather as many balloon strings as possible into one big bunch, and safely float home to LA.

I agreed to go eat Indian food tonight with a bunch of people, where I may/may not get stinko. However, given my current mood, I’ve decided WILL get stinko.

Just for the purposes of clarity.
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Random Fruit Fact: The High Bush Cranberry

High-bush cranberry, also known as moosewood viburnum is a shrub with numerous straggling to suberect branches from 0.5-2 meters high.

The high bush cranberry is straggling, and so am I. That’s it. Damn. I’m just no good at cranberries…earn more about the high bush cranberry, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/21/2005 02:47:00 PM 10 comments

Adventures Of Mrs. Spurious Honky & Mr. Kamikaze Crunchybug

So I was putting on my PJ’s the other night, and I saw this bug. Like a junebug but bigger. A WWF junebug. The kind of bug you KNOW is going to make a messy, gross sounding crunch when you give it a good whack. You know, a Crunchybug.

After seeing him, I knew my PJ’s had to wait while I hunted Crunchybug (for all you corn-pervs, I still had undies and a t-shirt). I began stalking my prey with a flip flop immediately, knowing if I stopped looking for him, he’d somehow stuff himself up my nose at 3AM and cause me to gag and snort like a wild boar. My husband didn’t agree to ‘love and cherish’ a wild boar, so I thumped around with my flip flop, waiting for the telltale crunch. Crunchybug zoomed around the room, banging into the ceiling, but staying just out of reach.

Mateo, curious about all this hammering around, came in and found me and my reeeeeeeeeeeally-white legs hopping around in a t-shirt and undies, pursuing my crunchy intruder. I’m neon white, so I looked like an ass. He laughed a little and asked, “Um, what’re you doing?”

“There’s this big crunchy bug….”

“You going to squash it?”

I looked at him blankly, “Uh. YES.”

And as I turned my gaze away, Crunchybug vanished. Shit. We looked all over the room, behind pictures, on the ceiling, he was gone. This was no good. My nose doesn’t like visitors and now my prey was hiding.

And then Crunchybug dive bombed me.

SLAM into my leg.

SLAMSLAM into my knee.

BUZZSLAMBUZZBUZZSLAMSLAM into my foot.

Crunchybugs are usually buzzy and skittery, and anyone who says they enjoy touching bugs is a big liar. People like that should have a Crunchybug stuffed in their nostril, and then tell me if they still like bugs. Which is why when Crunchybug hit me, I freaked the hell out and ran around the room like a mental patient.

“AHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m too white!!! It thinks I’m a light!!! I’m too white!!! I’m too white!!!”

Mateo almost peed his pants laughing.

Fine, Mr. Husband. Next time I’ll just snort the bug, and you can embrace my neon-white, inner wild boar-dom at 3AM. Cause that’s sexy, mister.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Low Bush Cranberry

“not true cranberries, but members of the honey suckle family. They are widespread in Canada, and prefer moist, well- drained soils and are shade tolerant. They flower in late May to early June, and the fruit ripens in mid to late August. The fruit is bright red, rich in vitamin C and is sour and tastes like a cranberry. The bark, boiled in a tea, was used as a muscle relaxant. The plants can be propagated from cuttings.”

These flower in June, which is my tenuous tie to junebugs. It’s a stretch, but…eh. Learn more about the Low Bush Cranberry, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/21/2005 01:10:00 PM 18 comments

Sweet Corn In Da House

Our super-nice friend, High Bibliographer Priestess, brought us a bunch of sweet Ohio corn. Hooray! Thank you HBP! She also brought an awesome present for Mateo's St. John James Day (for which we are also thankful), but this is about corn. Dammit.

So we started taking pictures of the corn, since you it's not every day you see sweet Ohio corn. Yes. The family Spurious needs very little encouragement to pic up the camera.
Behold!


Then we started taking pictures with the corn:


And I started getting into it:


And the next thing you know, I'm using them as nunchucks.


And making bad puns. Uni-CORN. HA!


No, none of the pictures were dirty. But thanks for asking.

And thanks again, High Bibliographer Priestess! For presents and corn!

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/18/2005 08:22:00 PM 23 comments

Jungle Boogie!

Or backyard looks like the goddamn Amazon rain forest. I’m not fucking around. Check it out:


Remember when it looked like this? CAUSE IT'S EXACTLY THE SAME SHOT.


It's like someone did a napalm-drop of MiracleGro over my house, and everything just exploded.


It's eating our back porch.


And guess what? All this frighteningly verdant stuff comes with wildlife. LOTS OF WILDLIFE. I’m fine with deer and groundhogs and raccoons and possums and squirrels. Mammals are great. I am one.

But bugs…ho, ho. No thanks.

I used to be the Spurious Family Bug Enforcer. Mateo’s not afraid of buggies, but he doesn't care, which is worse. He'll just let things scurry around and set up shop. I can't abide scurrying or shop-set-upping inside MY house, so I became The Bug Enforcer.

In Cali, I had the three-strikes rule, wherein any bug recieved three chances to go outside. I’d scoop them onto paper or into a cup, and carry them outside, spouting off "live-and-let-live" platitudes. Obviously, I wasn’t too hardcore about the platitude part, since after three strikes everything got squashed.

Then we moved to Pittsburgh and I found the centipede in my tub. Careful. This is ACTUAL SIZE (at least that's the size it seemed to me...)

Image courtesy of the Univ. of Nebraska Dept. of Entymology. Like the note on the picture SAYS.

Holy shit. What do you even do with that. Do you hit it with a shoe? One of Ronald McfuckingDonald's shoes? What's with all those legs? Does anything need that many legs? Jesus.

Anyway, I squished him. And holysweetmothermary he was purple inside. PURPLE!

Since the 'Centipede Incident' I'm a cold blooded killer. Completely ruthless. I have to be. I'm suddenly terrified of bugs, and given the the bounteous foliage outside our back porch, our home now harbors 50 times the normal insect head count.

Getting out of my bug filled abode in a month and a half. And counting like a mutha.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Zucchini

At least the centipede wasn't this big.

Yeesh.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/16/2005 05:01:00 PM 22 comments

Off To Get Hammered On A Work Night

A co-worker is leaving, and we're off to the bar.

My boss will be paying for all bar expenses we incur.

Will I get wasted in front of my boss?

Damn skippy.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/14/2005 05:30:00 PM 15 comments

Egg Foo Blechhhh - OR - Thoughts On The Totally Janky Chinese Food Restaurant By My Job

In case I haven’t made this clear in the past, I work at a giant hospital complex. The complex employs some 10,000 workers, most of whom swarm the local area at lunchtime, devouring any number of fanciful things from the myriad restaurants which sprout to cater to our ravenous needs. Immediately next to my workplace is a Chinese food restaurant, and though it’s closer than any of the other restaurants, NOBODY evereverever eats there.

They run specials and have a liquor license (a happy anomaly in Pennsylvania). They have a huge, cheap buffet and awesomely cheesy decorations. There’s always a place to sit, and the wait staff is nice. But not a single, sane soul ever crosses the evil threshold. This lack of customer support is due to one (or in my case, ALL) of the following:

1.) The restaurant has no windows. None.


Just one door that looks like a portal to a moldy dimension.

You feel like you’re eating in a really red, noodley mausoleum. If they had a few waitresses that looked like the Cryptkeeper, they'd edge into creepy and almost be cool, but as things stand it's just claustrophobic.

2.) Their food is amazingly bad. Though I'm pretty sure someone's going out of their way to make food this awful, I have no hard evidence to back it up.

3.) The outside of the building smells. There's no way I can adequately describe this buildings sheer, unmitigated funk. I could try a metaphor, but I honestly can't think of anything that indicates sufficient foulness. I have NEVER smelled anything like this building. It’s heinous. It’s monstrous, odious, horrendous and any other word which implies horrible funkiness that ends in ‘ous’.

How do restaurants like this stay in business? Do they own the property? I can’t imagine that enough first-time suckers drift through the doors to pay the rent. Is it appropriate for me to ask a buisiness owner to WASH his bulding (with soap, please), so that I can enjoy my lunch elsewhere? Is there a health department for the outside of buidings?

Right now, if I want to walk anyplace else to eat, I have to walk past the restaurant, effectively killing my desire for lunch, and my will to live.

Which sucks.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Saturn Peach

"Developed from a variety of peach native to China but which did not have the hardiness to grow in New Jersey, doughnut peaches are flat, freestone peaches (which means the fruit does not cling to the pit)..."

I wish the building funk didn't cling... Learn more about the saturn peach, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/13/2005 09:20:00 PM 13 comments

Shhh.

Today is Mateo's Birthday.

SHHHH! Don't say anything. Just wish him happy a Sts. John Jones Day or something. Anything other than birthday wishes. Shhh.

Happy birthday, my love. Shh.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/12/2005 09:38:00 PM 13 comments

A Story I Need To Get Out Of The Way - OR - Why I'm A Picky Eater

OK. Everyone who’s heard the 'mayonnaise story', just stop reading. Thank you, come again!

For the rest of you, I hate mayonnaise. No, really. I’m almost allergic, because if I even think I’ve ingested any of that foul sputum, I gag and break out in hives. HIVES, PEOPLE!

There’s even a subsection of food I can’t eat because it LOOKS LIKE/SOMEHOW REMINDS me of mayonnaise. Behold! The I-Can’t-Eat-You-Because-You’re-Vaguely-Mayonnaise-y Food Group:

Cottage cheese
Sour cream
All creamy salad dressings (i.e. ranch, french, etc)
“Special sauces” on burgers
Cream cheese
Marshmallow fluff
Yogurt - Don’t even get me started on yogurt
Guacamole - My aunt put mayonnaise in hers, making all other guacamole suspect.
Chip dips (sour cream and onion, etc)
Hollandaise sauce
Alfredo sauce
Ricotta and other white gooey cheeses
Anything “aoli”- It’s a sneaky Italian word for mayonnaise

Most of these things (except yogurt and cottage cheese) are unhealthy anyway, so avoiding them is beneficial. And yes, I’m aware that mayonnaise is just an innocuous mixture of eggs, oil and flour, none of which I’m allergic to. But combined together, they somehow form an unholy, gooey union which causes me to claw at my own face and spontaneously burst into flames. I’m feeling nauseous just writing about mayonnaise, that’s how much I hate it.

Why? Why all the condiment-related fuss? I have my reasons.

Long ago, when I was just a tiny plum (about 7-8 years old), I went on my 1st sleepover. My best friend Little Pear was taking a trip to her Grandma’s house, and I was asked to tag along. Having never slept over at a non-family member’s house, I was beside myself when Mama Spurious said yes!

I was in the process of packing My Little Ponies for the trip (because I was a complete nerd), when Mama Spurious laid down the rules, “You be good, and listen to Little Pear’s parents. Don’t cause any trouble at Grandma Pear’s house. Promise?”

“Promise.” I was willing to promise ANYTHING to go on this trip.

“And promise there’ll be no picky eating either. You eat whatever they give to you, OK?”

“Promise!”

And off I went. To my culinary doom!

Grandma Pear lived far away, and we were halfway to there when we stopped for lunch. Little Pear’s parents had packed a picnic and were laying everything out on a sunny blanket. It was summer, and it was HOT, but I didn’t complain because I’d promised not to. I was feeling very pleased with myself for being so good, and playing ponies with Little Pear, when her parents opened the trunk and pulled out a plastic bag. They reached inside this hot-from-the-trunk bag and gave me a really warm sandwich.

A really warm peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich.

And I ate it. Oh, yes. I had to. I’d promised Mama Spurious that I’d be good.

An hour later at a rest stop, I threw up all over the place. I was sick in Little Pear’s car, sick at Grandma Pear’s house, it was gross. Little Pear got sick too, and I was somehow convinced (in the way children can be) that her illness was my fault as well. Thinking Little Pear wouldn’t invite me anywhere again, I cried inconsolably for the rest of the trip, self-absorbedly certain that I had ruined everything.

But it wasn’t me. It was the MAYONNAISE! Hot mayonnaise is bad!

I told Mama Spurious (who was annoyed that the mayonnaise slathered sandwiches weren’t in a cooler), and she decided that since Little Pear got sick too, it was probably food poisoning. Mayonnaise or anything that even looked like mayonnaise, never willingly passed my lips again.

But this story doesn’t end badly. Mayonnaise isn’t particularly healthy, so cutting it knocks off a few extra calories (even though I usually make them up elsewhere). And over time, things have gotten better. Tasty things that were previously inconceivable - like tofu, white frosting, whipped cream, and pudding, seem pretty tasty to me. I can even watch other people eat mayonnaise-y things in my presence, something that used to have me frantically scanning the room for a potted plant to barf into. But all this took me 20 YEARS.

I suppose there are worse things to hate. Fluffy bunnies, rainbows. But I don’t have to double check my sandwiches for those, dammit.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Asian Pear

My childhood best friend was neither asian, nor a pear. Sorry.

“HOW TO USE IN THE KITCHEN: Fresh eating, excellent for drying and pickling and in salads.”

But not with mayonnaise. Oh, God. I just grossed myself out. Learn more about the asian pear, here. Urp.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/11/2005 03:59:00 PM 22 comments

Sending Wishes For Peace To London

Our thoughts and prayers are with her people.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/07/2005 08:35:00 AM 11 comments

Media Whorey-ness By Proxy.

I love the Los Angeles Times. My father has called it ‘that leftist rag’ (actually the LA Weekly -which I also love, cause I'm a damn, dirty hippy) for as long as I can remember. And while the LA Times does have a liberal bias, well, it’s fucking Los Angeles. The Los Angeles that's in California. We’re in a blue state, dammit! Besides, it’s not like the paper arrives on your porch covered with henna tattoos and scented with patchouli oil every morning. This isn’t San Francisco, for chrissakes.

In addition to reporting on all the bad times, heartache and serious stuff happening in the world, they have articles on the subjects I don’t see in other places. Examples:

Why pot is bad for your puppy dog.

The engaging details of Lil’ Kim’s jail sentence.

The financial success of a movie filled with penguins. (Which I actually really want to see...)

An entire article about ceviche.

How to climb Mount Whitney and not die.

How to use acupuncture to get pregnant.

And, of course, articles on fruit. Speaking of which:
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Random Fruit Fact: The Mulberry

"Mulberries grow in clusters, but each berry in a cluster ripens at a different time. Every tree is harvested three or four times, with care taken at each pass not to disturb the berries that have yet to ripen."

Here we go round the mulberry bush….. Learn more about the mulberry (hot damn some of that stuff looks tasty), here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/06/2005 04:00:00 PM 3 comments

Throw Me A Gucci Life Preserver, Dammit!

Ever have those mornings where you try on the entire contents of your closet and nothing feels right? The mornings where you try outfits you've worn hundreds of times before, but this time make you feel like a hairy fashion yeti? The mornings where you know with absolute surety that if you don’t find something acceptable, you'll feel self-conscious all day?

Today was that day. Fashion Crisis Day.

Fuck.

After 15 minutes of softly cursing both the contents of my closet and my epic ass, I chose a black t-shirt, jeans and some converse. You know. What I’ll wear every day of my life if someone doesn’t forcibly block the front door of my house and bitch slap me with their D&G bag.

But then I remembered that dress code for choads officially goes into effect at work today. So I took off the black tee/jeans/converse combo and put on black pants, a blue v-neck shirt and pointy black shoes. It looked totally fine, but it made me feel like a huge dork who's unaware her own dorkiness. Dorky like my 6th grade self pegging my jeans on purpose. Fuck.

Recognizing the early symptoms of a Clothing Crisis, I informed Mateo. He's seen this madness before and got comfy, because he knows how long this will take. This will take EXACTLY AS LONG AS IT TAKES.

The following insanity ensued:

Outfit Contender #1: Pink v-neck top/tan pants/brown super-high heels.
Disqualifying Flaw: Shirt only looks right with hair down, and I’ve already sprayed it UP. It's not coming unstuck, dammit.

Outfit Contender #2: Purple shell/black sweater/black pants/painful shoes.
Disqualifying Flaw: Makes me look like some sort of gothic Barney.

Outfit Contender #3: Sky-blue sweater/black skirt/sassy black heels.
Disqualifying Flaw: Skirt requires shaving (not happening this morning) or nylons (not happening ANY morning).

Outfit Contender #4: Button-up coral shirt/black pants-AGAIN.
Disqualifying Flaw: Shirt looks stupid with pants, and The Man would want me to tuck it in. I ain't tucking in for NOBODY fool!

Mr. Clothing Crisis has visited me many times in my short, shallow life, which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised by what I did next.

I said 'fuck the man' and wore the black tee/jeans/converse combo anyway.

Yeah. No one saw that coming. Cause I fly by the seat of my self-absorbed pants that way.

Jesus.
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Random Fruit Fact: The Loquat

"It was introduced into Japan and became naturalized there in very early times. It has been cultivated in Japan for over 1,000 years."

Some of the clothes in my closet seem like they've been there for 1,000 years… Learn more about the loquat, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/05/2005 04:37:00 PM 20 comments

Happy 4th of July!

I hope you're seeing lots of fireworks.

I hope you have a day off from work.

I hope you've got some booze and something tasty to eat.

I hope that we get our soldiers back home, where they belong.

I hope you're having fun being happy or crabby at our country, and that you appreciate our freedom to do whichever we choose.

I hope if you go see the fireworks that you don't wear a big stupid 'Cat in the Hat' style hat. The kind that blocks everyone's view and forces us to hate you. Like this one:

P.S. These hats are never appropriate at any time. Throw them out or give them to a local "Hatless Cats" center. The 4th of July is NOT a fucking rave.

Let's be thankful we've got a country that will let us eat, drink and dissent! Happy Independence Day!

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 7/04/2005 10:15:00 PM 12 comments