Holiday Light

It has been a while, so here are some Holiday Highlights:

Johnny's surgery went well. I signed some papers and almost passed out in the recovery area when the nurse tried to tell me about the potential of some drainage from the punctures in her knee. She is now going to physical therapy 2-3 times/week and will probably be off her crutches in a week or so.

I found out that my new job's insurance doesn't have a pre-existing condition clause, so I don't have to get COBRA or some bull.

I gave my notice on Friday. I was out that day and the company sent everyone home early, so when I arrived at 4:30, only my supervisor remained. We had a nice talk about it. His response: It's not that surprising. About 1 in 3 people we hire don't work out for some reason.
Whew, what a relief.

He sent out a departmental email announcing my departure yesterday. When I arrived today one of my first responders said "How dare you." What? I said, "How dare I get a job I enjoy?" So there.

Holiday stuff was really fun, and we got to go around and see the various family members. We spent the night in Indiana with Johnny's family on xmas eve rather than drive there twice, and we planned to take Zoey with us, since there isn't a dog-sitter. The morning before we left she decided to chew through the top of a vitamin bottle and eat about 30 or so flax oil capsules. We immediately put her outside and called the vet. They said she'd be okay, but that there might be some diarrhea occuring, so to be on the lookout. As if we'd miss that. She seemed okay, so we loaded up the car around 5 or so and headed out. I had lined the back seat with a tarp and a blanket, in case of such a tragedy, which we thankfully avoided. It was time to eat as soon as we got there, so we went in and everything was fine. Johnny's brother's girlfriend just had a little boy so there was lots of cute baby-ness happening. I went to the car to get the baby's presents and found that Zoey had surreptitiously puked on them. Luckily, we used a not-very-paper-like wrapping and set it in an unwrappable baby-tub so I just cleaned it up.

As yesterday's grand finale, we went to see The Weatherman for $0.50 movie tuesdays.

Oh my god. I nearly forgot. I totally got to meet Evan Dando, and i did call him Evan to his face. It went like this:

Johnny's cousin: Dewey this is Evan, Evan, Dewey.

Me: Evan, nice to meet you.

Like I was going to forget his name or something. Other tidbits:
We shook hands.
He was really just as cute in person as you can imagine.
His wife, mom, sister and cousin were also there, and very nice.
He played Led Zepplin on repeat in the green room and almost left without his iPod.

it was great, thanks for asking

But it was the longest haircut I have ever had. Really, the longest. I got to this place and it is the kind of place where there is an ambient fountain in the lobby, and they offer you a complimentary beverage. So that was a little weird in itself.

The hair-guy's ASSISTANT washed and dried my hair, then straightened all of it with a flat iron. This is his technique, see, to straighten and then cut it when it is dry. The actual cutting portion of the evening took about 45 or 50 minutes.

The end result is rather nice...lots of layers, a little shorter without "losing the length" and a hint of bang. I like it, but I am not sure if I will go back. The biggest reason is because the environment is so freakin' suburban, it is just weird to be in there. Here is a brief description of some of the characters:

Assistant: About 25, white, female, short messy-looking brown hair, nice eyebrows, glittery shoes.
When I told her that I shaved my head in college, she acted like she didn't hear me, and then said, "Wait, did you shave your head, seriously?"

Hair-guy: about 35, white, bleached blond hair, scruffy beard, skinny pants, tattoo sleeve, diesel longhorn belt buckle with matching bracelet. I was convinced he was gay. He asked me twice if I had kids, and I said no. I finally got the hint and asked if HE had kids. He does, of course, and then told me all about them.

Mom: No, not my mom. This lady was there with her daughter. About early 50s, but trying to pass for 40, white, wearing stilleto clogs with fur lining. I know about the fur because while she was waiting for her highlights she took one off and examined it, then replaced it and admired her foot for about 2 minutes before returning to her compelling issue of Harpers. She brought a gift for her hairdresser. It was an ornament avatar of a hairdresser. At the checkout, she announced that she also got one for her "nail tech."

Daughter: Embarrassed of her mom.

Trophy wife:
I didn't actually see this woman until I was on the way out, despite the fact that she was sitting in the chair next to me. I did, however, overhear this intriguing convo upon her entrance.
Hair-lady: So, what do you want to do today?
TW: "I can't wash, dry or flat iron my hair! I just had surgery and can't raise my arms."
Me: [You just had a boob job!]

I tell myself that maybe I am being judgmental, so I agree (with myself) that I will see what she looks like before I apply some stereotype, but my hair is being cut, and I can't turn to look at her!
I listen to several more conversations on fashion, makeup, and her recent cruise until the moment arrives. And guess what.

Trophy wife: about 25, white, bleached blond, about 120 pounds, tan.

Boob job.

snip

i have been growing my hair for a few years now. When i first started my previous job, my hair was about 4-6 inches long in the front, and short in the back, but now it is well down my back. A few months ago I went to this place that I used to go to when I was in college and felt like it worked out okay, but I wasn't thrilled with the results.
My sis-in-law always looks really great, and always has a nice, fashionable haircut, which i compliment her on. She recommended that I go see her hairdresser guy, so I finally got his number.
Apparently he has this technique which includes straightening the hair before cutting it, so when i got there he said he didn't think he'd have enough time to do it "right."
Not a very good start, right? I decided to give him a chance and reschedule, because scarlett's hair really does look great, so tonight is the night. Wish me luck!

Red-faced, but not from the cold

My cell phone has always been an older model with no frills. So when we moved here and I got a new phone, I got one that takes photos and has fancy rings and everything (admittedly, because it was on sale).
I have, over time, been collecting sounds from people to customize as their rings or text message notifications, and so forth. I got the best one for Johnny here (.wav) which you really should listen to. You will really really love it.

I went to lunch a little bit ago and when I got back, I noticed that Johnny had called. As I was calling her back, I heard someone calling my name. I look around my cubicle and heard my neighbor say, "we like your ring." At first, I was thinking, I have never shown you my ring! But then I realize I had forgotten to silence my phone and the sound of Johnny's voice was echoing through the giant room of cubicles known as my workplace. This is the actual view from my cube, from about a foot and a half above my head.

If you didn't already listen to the ringer, do it now, while looking at this picture. My coworkers, who sit in the cubes next to me are ladies who have known one another for years, listen to the same soap opera every day and bring one another cakes for their birthdays. "We like your ring." hmph.

This is not the first time this has happened. I was buying opera tickets and it blared out at the box office. I was carpooling with my coworker and she practically ran off the road in shock. I guess what I am getting at is that I am now officially recruiting for more embarrassing rings to assign to your call. I will also accept photos.

Ahem.

Johnny and I are going to get committment ceremonied.

Some of you might know that I have a fairly long history of being skeptical of weddings, and of long-term relationships in general. Some of you might also know that Johnny has been asking me to "marry" him about every other day for almost 4 years. At first, I was just saying no, but then i started feeling mean about it. I didn't want to be a jerk, i just didn't want to be married. So, many long conversations and many I-Love-You's-disguised-as-proposals later, I have finally decided that I want to do it. I think it will also act as a validator for our relationship, both for us and for other people--specifically my family. I told my carpooling co-worker that we were going to do it, and the first thing she asked was "Do you guys want to have kids?" At that moment, I realized what a great decision I had made. People don't ask you that unless they know you are in a committed relationship, not even if you have been together for 15 years (which we haven't, by the way).

On the other hand, I told my mom and she said "Oh, cool!" That was it. We fell into a crevasse of silence so I just changed the subject. When I told my sister-in-law, she said, "So you guys are serious then?" Hello? We own a house together. A house. It is big. And we live in it. And it costs a lot of money. My family is awkward but Johnny's family is an entirely different story. I don't know what will happen there.

It probably will be over a year before we actually have it, we haven't chosen a season, much less a date. One thing I know, it will be fun. Maybe we could just not have weird family people there. We could add a clause to the invitation that says, "If you are going to be weird, please stay home." Would that be rude?

Obviously, I will let you know as plans develop.

For now, I am being excited about our New York Trip! Woo! Apparently there are 2 shows, Friday and Saturday, and we are expected to attend both. Maybe by the time we get back there Saturday, Evan and I will be good friends. My goal for the weekend is to address Evan by his first name without giggling or asking for his autograph.

I tell ya...

One thing I am going to miss after I leave here (aside from the Nelson guy, who wore a Tesla t-shirt last week!) is the cafeteria. Not that the food is especially awesome, they don't have many vegetarian options aside from salads and grilled cheese. The thing I will miss is the dessert bar. I am most recently addicted to this chocolate pudding parfait. They also make a mean pecan pie.

sick beats

Last night Johnny brought her hot coworker over for a drink. She has a Bettie Page haircut and is really funny and nice. We sat around for about 5 hours drinking and eating dinner and this morning I woke up with a mysterious hangover. I finally ate some french fries for lunch and I feel better. Why does grease help a hangover? It is so weird.

I went for my flu shot at 11. I haven't had one since college, and was a little worried about it because I don't deal well with shots. I didn't pass out, and everything seems to be fine.

Did I mention yet that the new season of the L-word starts on Jan 8.? Since the Eagles don't play on Sunday this week, we have scheduled a L-word-previous-season-catch-up party. For those of you who saw the last two seasons, you should read Donna's L-word Treatise, which includes fashion commentary and dog opinion.

Hermey

I was watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer last night on TV with Johnny and Jake, and I was thinking about how a few years ago I was given the Hermey Bobblehead as a gift. I was getting all sentimental, like: "oh, i miss my friends from Philly," and "oh, I am going to miss winters in the city" and "oh, wasn't that a nice gift that time, because they somehow KNEW that i liked that aspiring dentist" and so on.

Then Johnny says to me, "Remember that time when we got you that Hermey bobblehead because your haircut looked like his?"

I pointed out that, NO, I didn't remember that, because no one ever TOLD me that was why I got it. I just thought people were being thoughtful. She lamely followed up with a downcast look and a "um, you looked cute with that haircut though..?"

It's snowing again.

Today I found out that Link Wray died last Sunday. The Goddess got Johnny and I to go see him a couple of years back at a place in Germantown. He had long silver hair, a motorcycle jacket and a rocking guitar. Here's to you, Mr. Wray.