Thursday, July 22, 2010

Favorite Friday #2

I'll be leaving in a week for a much needed vaca...

....which leads me to Favorite Friday #2: Maine

My Family has been going on vacation to Boothbay Harbor, Maine, my whole life. It's a serious family tradition. My Dad has gone there for vacation his entire life (except once, when he went to play soccer in England on summer) and my grandfather went camping there as a kid.

For one week, 30+ family members will converge from all parts of North America to rent cottages, drink beer and reminisce ("The sea was angry that day...").

Now the family vacation in itself hasn't always been my favorite thing ever (introverted, acne prone teenager + rowdy family members = Bad News Bears) but the the surrounding environment hasn't failed me yet.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Favorite Friday Numero Uno!!

In an effort to force myself to do some regular blogging and to ward off writer’s block, I thought I would start a weekly post sharing some favorite things in my life…

There are a whole loss lame than raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens (sorry, Dame Julie Andrews) and they don’t fit nicely in a Rodgers and Hammerstein score, but they are a big part of who I am.

My favorite Book: Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

If I could get a job, where I could just read books all day with a mug of tea and not be disturbed, then I would be the best employee ever.

There really isn’t a book I won’t at least attempt to read (Except maybe the rest of the Twililight series, but is because of the annoying overhyping and I’ve already read the synopsis on Wikopedia.WTF?) and the only book I absolutely hated was Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying. (Again, WTF?) Seriously, if I knew where he was buried, I would dig him up and throttle his skeleton for subjecting that abomination to 10th grade English students everywhere.

I have shelves of books that I read over and over again, but Good Omens ranks at the top.

It’s the end times in Good Omens, the Antichrist is about to be “born” to an American diplomat in England. Except that there’s been a bit of a mix up in the nursery. The American diplomat takes home a perfectly normal baby, while a perfectly normal and unknowing English family brings home the spawn of Satan, named Adam. (This would probably happen if Woody Allen directed The Omen.)

Enter the demon Crowely and the angel Aziraphale, frienemies, who have established comfortable lives on earth respectively and don’t want it to end on Judgment Day. Together they set out to search for Adam, who has now grown up to be a very normal 11 year old besides the fact that he possesses some interesting powers and a big black dog he can’t explain, to try to convince him not to bring on the Apocalypse just quite yet.

Except for the fact that they aren’t the only ones looking for him. Hilarity ensues.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Too Hot To Come Up With A Clever Title.

It's hot.

Really hot.

A Heat Advisory has been in effect all week. We've been told to basically not go out side at all, for any reason, unless you want to turn into a human equivalent of the fried egg.

Luckily, our one window unit keeps our bedroom somewhat bearable. The rest of the house, not so much. You open the bedroom door and you are hit with a such a wall of heat and humidity, it's like I'm renting Satan's summer timeshare. (I wonder if he has central air...)

We've been surviving, although things were touch and go when we lost power for a few hours the other night. Luckily, the power kicked back on before we invited ourselves over to the guy across the street with the generator.

Hope you are beating the heat. I'll leave you this to think cool thought while I go stick my head in the freezer:

He's cute and cool!
(Courtesy of:

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Some Thoughts For This Weekend

"You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism". ~Erma Bombeck

(Quote from Google's Quote Garden)

Friday, July 2, 2010

Yea, I'm Still Here.

I'm sure you are aware that I haven't posted in over a month...

You know it's been a while when your father calls you up and wants to know when you're going to be posting next because he needs something to read at work. Must be a slow summer in the world of plastic bottle making....

Anyway, I've been suffering from another bout of Writer's Block. I really haven't had any ideas worth sharing that wouldn't have made me go "What the hell was I thinking?" later. My last idea for a post was going to about mustaches. Seriously. I got about half way through when I said F- this and hit delete. With plenty of rest and lots of fluids I should be back to normal soon.

We've also been having major technical issues here in Jersey. My computer decided to scare the shit out of me when it teased me with a day of blinkie light of death (A new hard drive no less!) Luckily, Chris was able to do something to it and now I have a happy lappie again. I'm beginning to think that my boyfriend is a wizard in disguise. All he does is touch things and they work again. Although, his techi-touch was no match on his laptop which decided to take an early trip to the electronic warehouse in the sky. So poor Christopher has been borrowing mine.

#2935623576 of reasons why I hate being an "adult": being busy. The last couple of weekends, Chris and I have been here there and everywhere. Lancaster to see my parents, the shore, Chris's cousin graduation and a Mennonite wedding...

...And the end isn't in site quite yet. This weekend, Chris, Rob and I (and maybe Rowdy) are heading out to Lancaster to spend the 4th with some friends in Amish Country. There will probably be a few more trips to the shore (Come on, we're in Jersey, baby.) not mention that Chris and I are meeting my parents in Maine for family-apolloza 2010, where my Dad's family migrates back their ancestral homelands of the Down East to drink beer and crack open a lobsta' or two.