Sydvish

Aaaaaaaaah!

If I had to exit at College Dr every day, I would probably go insane from yelling at all the people who think they are too important to wait in the left turn line like everybody else. EFFFFFF YOU!

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What do pregnant people wear to bachelorette parties in New Orleans?

I asked because I have no idea, and I have to pack tonight for Court’s bachelorette this weekend. Nicki and I were talking about this yesterday, because I said I didn’t have any “out shirts” that fit and she questioned whether it’s even proper (or likely) for a pregnant woman to own any “out shirts.” Touche’!

We decided that I will try to dress as cutely as possible, and she’s going to look for some fun jewelry for me on her lunch break today. What a gal.

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How do you turn a 15-year-old high school student into a G-rated, aging floozy?

Last night, I was trying to come up with the choreography to “Little Girls” for A.C.(atholic).H.S’ 2009 spring production of Annie, and I had some serious mental block. I bought the movie, thinking I’d get inspired, but instead I got even more discouraged after watching Carol Burnett make out with her radio and sing about how she’d love a man to nibble her ear. Anyway, it took forever, but I think I came up with some moves that are tame enough for the school play, yet still convey the desperation of Mrs. Hannigan (at least I hope so). We’ll see tonight. It’s too bad we can’t have a bathtub full of gin…

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billydalto:

This was created a few years ago for the wedding of Andrew Enright and Heather Samples. They gathered some of their favorite stories about the attendees of the ceremony and used them to illustrate their connections. I think this is a neat idea for a wedding because it’s not only a good way to seed conversations between previously unacquainted guests but also a fairly accurate representation of the way loosely affiliated people naturally learn about each other.

Side note: this is officially the first entry in my mental index of “neat wedding ideas.”

I also like this because reminds me of Sydney, whose stories often include enough interrelated characters to be good candidates for this type of data visualization.

This is wonderful!!!

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trappedintime:

“GAVE UP”

Just found this on my iPhone. I’m thinking this was taken back in December, somewhere in the city. Definitely a male driver behind the wheel, which properly contextualizes the plate. I really hope I never become “that guy.”

This makes me laugh. A lot. I made fun of my cousin Natalie when she caved and bought a mini-van (that exact one, actually), but she swears that it will happen to me too: the day when practicality takes precedence over style. I think she’s wrong (for me anyway). I have lots of things I’ll compromise on. For example, I’ve recently switched to flats (for safety and comfort. [I’ve been clumsy lately]), and while I look better in heels (short legs), it’s a sacrifice I’m ok with because there are TONS of cute pairs of flats. Just like there are TONS of other options besides mini-vans! (Hello, crossovers, small, fuel-efficient SUVs, etc). I will admit, doors that open and close by themselves and an entrance low enough for kids to get in and out of on their own sound tempting, I just don’t think I could do it.

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So you said you want to see a picture of my urine? Here you go!

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Oh yeah!! 30 bucks at Walgreen’s.

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» This is a pee test that supposedly predicts sex (of your baby)!

It costs $34.95, and it’s been available at Walgreen’s since March 13, 2009. I am totally getting this today and trying it tomorrow morning!!! (I promise I won’t buy anything gender-related for the baby until my 20 week ultrasound, but this is too much fun to pass up). WHAT?!?!?! Woo hoo!!!

(Supposedly it’s over 90% accurate when done correctly).

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I just pulled underwear out of my fleece!

nickihebert:

True story! I was sitting at my desk just now and got a little chilly. When I put on my fleece I had a pair of underwear coming out of the top. Static electricity is the shit!

Hahahahahahahahaha!

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St. Patrick’s Day pictures are here. Finally!

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» Here you go, Nicki. Now you only have to worry about the meth...

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“ Speaking of being stretched thin, did you know that 1 cup of motor oil can cover an acre of water?

— billy dalto, in one of the most awesome non-sequiturs I’ve ever heard.

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I know I am going to sound like the grandma that just discovered the internets, but I saw this for the first time today - ha! I think the results are pretty interesting. Congrats, Kev; you’re number 1!

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Pretty hilarious pregnancy-driven road rage encounter this morning.

Right before the turn to my office, there was a road block in the right lane. There were some cars behind me, and there were cars in the left lane, so I put on my turn signal and waited for a chance to get over. When I had a chance to get over, I started getting into the left lane, and the person behind me (who thought they could quickly get over and speed past me before I had a chance to get over) blew the horn and started freaking out in her car. I flipped her off and said (out loud because I can’t help myself), “then don’t be a b*tch!” (because she was being rude. A nice person would have tried to slow down enough to let the one person in front of them go [or, at the very least, not tried to cut me off]). Anyway, I got behind her, and noticed right away that she turned down the street to my office. I knew it! I turned in the other entrance to the parking lot, hoping to avoid a confrontation, but we ended up parking on the same side anyway. I checked email on my iPhone before I got out (some girlfriends and I are emailing about doing lunch tomorrow). I thought that the chance for confrontation had passed, and that this girl and I had both cooled off, but apparently not. I walked in the building, and there she was, standing there, fake talking on her cell phone, waiting for me (I could tell the conversation was fake because it abruptly ended with no goodbye right after I passed). She followed me to the elevator, and we both got one with one other guy. I asked which floor, and she reached in front of me, and pushed her floor without a word. Then, she got off, and I haven’t seen her again. I wonder why she waited. I guess just to memorize my face so she can hate me forever. Whatevs. Anyway, we definitely work for the same company, but I have no idea who she is. That’s my story!

Note: I regret flipping her off, because I think that’s just silly, but I still think she was being rude.

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» Not in the name of marriage

beautifulordinaire:

gauntlet:

Ah, Mr and Mrs: how homely, how familiar, how quaint. You see, I will never become a Mrs, and I will never take my husband’s name. If pushed, I choose Ms, but otherwise I will always be me. First name. Surname. It startles me that so many women of my generation never question this bizarre ritual. As soon as a woman signs the marriage register she assumes a new identity. It may be merely symbolic, but it’s that symbolism that most jars with today’s notions of equality.

I don’t agree with this at all. It’s entirely up to you whether or not you remain an individual, and names have nothing to do with it. Choosing to take or not to take your husband’s name is a personal preference, and nothing more.

I also really liked melanyouth’s comment on the subject:

I have a rather contrary opinion, developed when everyone expected me to go back to my maiden name after my divorce. I refused, on the grounds that there was no way in hell I was going back to my father’s name just because I no longer had a husband.

The fact is that naming in our culture is patrilineal, and that an unmarried woman’s surname identifies her as the posession of her father. And in this modern age, ritualistically taking your husband’s name means as little or as much as you want it to. Disparaging women who choose to change their name upon getting married is one of those things that seems like an easy call, but really isn’t.

.

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