Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Are you going to dip it in yogurt? Cover it with chocolate buttons??

The holidays can be really stressful on a marriage. You're spending a bunch of money, trying to juggle time to spend with extended families, etc. Plus one of you is always doing more than the other. One person does the majority of the shopping and wrapping and baking and preparing, am I right? All of this added stress can be really difficult on an otherwise happy marriage, don't you agree?

Uberman and I have the same argument every year. And this year I am just not sure we are going to work it out. So I need your help in resolving this. Seriously. I want your opinions. Because I know you all will agree with me that he is flat out dead wrong.

In the movie Love Actually, Alan Rickman's character Harry is married to Karen, played by Emma Thompson, but he has this flirtatious relationship with his skanky assistant Mia, which Karen witnessed at the office Christmas party. A few days later, after a provocative conversation with Mia, Harry ends up buying the skank a necklace for Christmas, which Karen finds in a pocket as she is hanging up his coat and excitedly assumes it is for her. Are you following me so far?

(I guess I should warn you that if you have never seen the movie there are some spoilers ahead. And also, I am not sure we can be friends anymore.)

So on Christmas Eve, the family gathers around the tree to open one gift each, and Karen chooses a small square present from Harry that is the same size as the box she found in his pocket. She is devastated when the gift turns out to be a Joni Mitchell CD and not the necklace. She excuses herself to her bedroom and has a little cry as she tries to decide whether or not to confront her husband about her suspicions he is having an affair. The whole scene is very sad.

Now here is where I need your help. Do you think Karen had the right to be sad and devastated that she did not receive the necklace? Or do you think she was jumping to conclusions about her husband's infidelity? Uberman argues that A) the purchase of a necklace is not confirmation of an affair (even though later we see skanky slut face Mia climbing out of her bed in bra and panties and wearing the necklace) and B) how does she know the necklace is not still wrapped under the tree waiting for her?

I know. Can you even believe his nerve?? He could not be more wrong. We KNOW Harry gave Mia the necklace because we see the skanky slutty mcwhore wearing it. And we KNOW he didn't buy two and there isn't one under the tree for Karen. But he argues that we know that because we are the omnipresent viewer. Karen does not know. She is just making assumptions. Which I argue are correct. But he says she is just being a big baby. And I say she is trusting her intuition, as she should. Because as women, we always know.

I know, right?? The guy has some balls. I mean he is just sooooo wrong here it completely infuriates me. And the only reason he won't accept the fact that Harry is a cheating dirtbag (which HELLO! He is!! We see it later!!), is because he is hoping some day to meet Alan Rickman and have him record his greeting on his voicemail. Maybe his chances are greater if he stands in solidarity with Alan that his character is being unfairly accused. Whatever.

Regardless, this is causing a major rift in our marriage. We may need to seek counselling.

So what do you think? Without the knowledge of whom the necklace was intended for, did Karen have the right to be upset? Is Harry a jerkface liar? Is Mia a nasty disease ridden trampy whore husband stealer? And more importantly, is Uberman just straight up WRONG??

You are welcome to comment as anonymous. Unless you disagree with me and then you better straight up give me your name address and phone number so I can come egg your front door and key your car.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

A few things you might not know...

If I were 20 years younger I would have my nose pierced. I'd get one of those teeny tiny studs you can barely see. Just because I think it looks cool. And I would have bright blue or hot pink streaks in my hair.

Even though I am still working on losing some chub, I like my body a whole lot more now than I did when I was in my twenties. And I'm a lot more comfortable in my own skin.

I ate three cookies today.

I used to color my hair red. It was hideous.

I love artichokes.

I think the Buffalo Chicken Pizza at Mellow Mushroom is a gift straight from God.

I like to turn the radio off in my car when I am all alone and ride in silence.

My ten year old taught me how to use my iPod Touch. Before that I had no idea how to turn the stupid thing off and couldn't figure out why my battery kept dying so soon.

I don't like to drink coffee during a meal. Coffee is a stand alone beverage.

I don't talk about my dad as much as I do my mom, but he is my hero. I would not be who I am today if it were not for him. He is an amazing man and if you don't know him you are missing out.

I love cooking but my picky family takes the fun out of it.

I love office supplies but I am the most unorganized person in the world.

My desk at home is such a mess, you can't see the top of it. My desk at work is so immaculate it looks like no one sits there.

I need a new work schedule. I go to work in the dark and I come home in the dark. I didn't sign up to be a vampire.

I'm still watching Grey's Anatomy.

I'm going to Disneyland in January and I can hardly wait.

I want a puppy but Uberman says no way Jose.

Major shit hit the fan for us this week and surprisingly I am not worried. I know everything will work out and that some things are just meant to be. I trust my husband.

Friday, December 3, 2010

The Secret about Victoria

Will any of you be uncomfortable if I talk about underwear for a minute? No? Okay good. I didn't think so since we are BFF and all.

So I like to buy my bras at Victoria's Secret. I know, they are expensive. But honestly, they make the girls look good. You know what I'm sayin'? And I need the girls to look good. Because they are sad and depressed and not looking anyone in the eye these days. So my friend Victoria helps them keep their, um, spirits . . . up. Or something like that.

Anyways. My only issue with Vickie and her secrets, is that I am pretty sure she discriminates against the big girls. And when I say girls I don't mean boobs this time. I mean actual girls. Ladies. Women. Women who may not be the size of Heidi Klum and all her cronies, but still want to feel sexy in their chonies. I personally have always loved to wear cutesie bras and panties because I can't wear everything I want.

So the other day Ubes and I were out shopping for our monkeys and I went into Victoria's Secret to check out the goods for my goods. I found a bra that I wanted and noticed they were having a buy one get one half off sale. I turned to find a sales associate to ask which bras were part of the sale, but I couldn't get one to look my way and I felt it was inappropriate to scream across the store "Hey! Is this bra included in the sale or what?"

I expressed my frustration to Ubes. "See, this store pisses me off every time I come in here. I always have a hard time finding someone willing to help me."

"Why?" Ubes asked.

"Honestly? I think because I'm not Victoria's Secret model material."

"What?" He was skeptical.

"I really don't think this store is "Big Girl" friendly. Look at the sizes they have on display. They are all the small sizes. The bigger sizes are in the drawers below." I pointed to the drawer to emphasize my point. "And they only go up to a size 38. Don't you think someone bigger than a 38 wants to wear sexy bras?"

I forget Ubes doesn't know what a 38 is. But seriously, just because a woman is not a 34B or a 36C, it doesn't mean she doesn't want or deserve to feel pretty. Right? And I think it's funny that I have such a hard time finding my size, which I am not embarrassed to tell you is a 38C (I've been measured, dude, I know it's accurate), because obviously a whole lot of 38C's are beating me to the drawers and buying up all the "Big Girl" bras.

But whatever.

And I think as I stood there waiting and looking for someone to help me, Uberman still thought maybe I was being a little too sensitive... Until....

A very nice sales associate finally approached me and asked if I needed some assistance. She was like me, older and single digit size challenged. I pictured her to be a happy mother of teenage boys with a dog and a husband who likes to go camping. I don't know why. These are the things that go through my mind in split seconds, people. I realize I may need medication, but the imagination is what keeps life exciting.

Anyhoots. (Ha! Get it?? Hoots?!?!? I crack myself up!) Nice Sales Lady tried to help me find an amazing black and white lace bra that was out of stock (bummer) and then helped me to a dressing room with my other choices. As I stood in the dressing room trying on bras, every girl's favorite weekend activity, I overheard another associate talking to Nice Sales Lady.

"Shawna, are you helping the woman in this dressing room?" she asked. I could see her black boots below my door and I knew I was the only one in a dressing room at the time.

"Yes," said Shawna.

"Oh good," said the other associate. "Because you probably understand more about her . . . um . . . sizes and stuff."

Excuse me?

I am sorry but what is there to understand about my size? Being a 38C does not qualify me as some kind of special needs. It's not like I have three boobs instead of two, right? I mean when did being a 38C mean you were an elephant?

Seriously, I don't want to jump up on my soap box and champion the rights of the plus size folk everywhere, but give me a break!

And I hate that term "plus size." What does that even mean? Plus what? A bigger ass?

I'm just saying that I am sick of being looked down on or excluded or whatever because my body isn't smaller. I'm not lazy. I'm not unhealthy and anyone would be envious of my amazingly low cholesterol level. My size just so happens to be in the double digits. Sue me.

But here's an interesting fact: I like me. I think I am pretty much awesome. And I think most people who take the time to look past my droopy 38C's enjoy having me as a friend. Yeah I wish I were thinner. I wish my thighs weren't so jiggly and I felt more comfortable in a sleeveless top. And I'm working on it. But I'm working on it for me. Not because I am worried about what anyone thinks. Despite my lack of perfections, I am happy with the person I see in the mirror. Because she is nice. She is funny and charming and compassionate and full of life.

And her husband thinks she is pretty sexy with or without the help of Victoria and her secrets.

So take that Vickie. I for one will be finding a new place to buy my undergarments. And you just lost a Facebook friend. Hurts, doesn't it?

Thursday, December 2, 2010

My European Adventure - Part IV: Brussels

So after the Great Train Ticket Debacle, we arrived in Brussels around 4:00 in the late afternoon.
In the months before our trip, Uberman and I watched a million travel shows on Brussels. It looked so quaint and charming. The cobblestone streets, the old buildings, the store fronts selling waffles and chocolates. And the beer! We could not wait to try the beer. It was like we went to Berlin and Amsterdam for the history and culture, but we went to Brussels to eat and drink. I mean really, what else is there to do there?
But Brussels is like the Washington DC of Europe. The European Union is there, as well as NATO. So I was expecting this fancy, cosmopolitan city full of nothing but interesting business people and rich tourists.
Sometimes I can be so stupid.
The moment we stepped out of the train station, I realized how naive I was. There were a lot of young guys standing around, between the ages of maybe 15 and 19, watching people as they left the train station to find buses or taxis or whatever. I immediately felt uncomfortable and Kenny and Ubes started reminding me and Dee to make sure our backpacks were closed. Although it was only a little after 4:00, it was already getting dark and we wondered how long we would have to stand there waiting for our bus.
A bus approached, but it was going the opposite direction from where we needed to go. And just as it stopped, one of the kids near the station entrance ran up to a woman standing behind us, grabbed the necklace off of her neck and ran across the street to get on that bus.
We stood there in shock. The woman calmly pulled out her cell phone and began making a call. No one did anything to help her. No one ran after the boy. No one even stopped to ask if she was okay. And being American tourists with our arms full of luggage, we felt powerless and vulnerable. I felt sick. But honestly, that's all part of travelling. It's just so shocking when it happens right in front of you.
One hour and an interesting bus ride later, we had checked into our hotel and were back out looking for a place to eat. We ended up in a cozy little corner restaurant near the Grand Place.

After a dinner of mussels, frites and Kriek beer, we walked around the little streets surrounding the Grand Place and then had drinks at the Delirium Cafe (below), before going back to the hotel.

The next morning went back to the Grand Place for a tour of the brewers guild museum.

Then we did some shopping, and a whole lot more eating and drinking.

It was amazing. Despite our initial introduction to the city, Brussels was lovely. The people were so friendly and so eager to talk to us. Although they speak both French and Flemmish, everyone spoke English as well. We never really had any communication issues. I would do a few things differently next time, like not lose the train tickets, stay in a hotel closer to the Grand Place and skip the frites with mayonnaise (although the frites were devine, the mayo on top was totally gross and not worth the extra calories).

I only wish we had more time to spend eating in this beautiful city.

The Grand Place was definitely my favorite. I loved how it looked completely different during the day and at night.
And of course, I loved everyone's favorite attraction in Brussels, Mannekin Pis.

I would love to go back to Brussels. And I will. Because those waffles were AMAZING.