shhh... it's a secret

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

[Insert creative title here]

I’m completely uninspired. All my inspiration has been lost. Where did it go? In New York I was brimming over with ideas. I was jotting down things to write about left and right. I could jump in the shower and immediately compose a hilarious story about my fashion faux pas of the 90s. At 1:00 am I could begin writing a wonderful homage to John Cusack. While eating breakfast and watching Supernatural, I was able to outline the perfect post comparing Twitter to the cool kids’ table in the school cafeteria. Now that I’m in Virginia… nothing. Nada. Nilch. Zippo. My creativity has dried up.

What gives? Is it because my primo creative time is no longer alone time? Is it because there are now expectations that I be in bed, ready to sleep, at 10:00 pm? Is it because I’m being cruelly dragged from the comforts of slumber at 6:00 am? Is it because everything of mine that is me is packed away in boxes, deep in the confines of storage while I’m living in someone else’s space, among their things?

Yes, yes, yes and… yes.

I’ve been in this situation before. Cohabiting always makes me feel less like me. I never feel more like me than when I’m by myself. Or when I’m around others like me. But now, well, I’m not by myself, and I’m not around others like me. Therefore, if I’m not me right now, than who I am?

I’m a shell of the real me, struggling to muster the energy to be me while dreading the idea of losing more of me. I need to be surrounded by creative people, in creative places, and amongst creatively inspiring things. My creativity is fizzling. Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff............

In the meantime, while I attempt to recharge, or decide to throw in the towel, Miss Nikki honored me with an award, and since I accepted the challenge that comes along with it, I guess now is as good of a time as any to complete it.

(Thanks, Miss Nikki. Rule #1? Check!)

So apparently there are rules that come along with this thing and what not. *Sigh* I'm so not into rules right now, but for the sake of keeping the bloggity blog world happy, I'll post them anyways. Lucky for us, there are only three:
  1. Thank the blogger who awarded it to you (done)
  2. Sum up your blogging philosophy, motivation, and experience using five words (say what now?)
  3. Pass it on to 10 other blogs which you feel have real substance (10? we'll see about that. I don't even have the energy to read 10 blogs anymore *sigh*)
Alright, well, here goes nuttin'...
Boredom (as in, I created it because of, I write it because of, and you read it because of)
Alcohol (as in, the fuel that keeps me going, also, my best stories are the result of, but unfortunately they're also the most humiliating and shameful so I don't really write about them, and you don't really get to read about them)
Comments (as in, I'm a whore for them and they keep me going)
Humor (as in, I pretend to have a sense of one when I write so long as you all continue pretending to understand it when you read)
Pickles (as in, I love 'em, and so should you)
Okay, now for the hard part. I have to pass this shit on.

Um... so... don't judge me on this or anything, but I decided to mix things up a bit. It seems like all the same bloggers out there keep getting all the awards, and rightfully so, 'cause they're good, but I've decided to share with you 10 (random) blogs that I enjoy reading that you probably aren't reading.* And yes, these were selected randomly** from my blogroll using everyone's favorite tool, the random number generator over at
  1. [ THE DRIFTER and the GYPSY ] 
  2. No Teacher Left Behind
  3. Skunkboy Creatures 
  4. Etiquette Bitch
  5. A Cup Full of Cake
  6. Wait in the Van
  7. DC Princess 
  8. *uncorked 
  9. Miss Mommy
  10. a single girl in the city...
And there you have it. Go check out these bloggers. Let 'em know who sent you (and while you're there can you give them the good news about this blogger award thing? I might not get around to it today. Thanks). I can't guarantee you're gonna like them, nor can a I guarantee that they're frequent posters and what not, but they're on my blogroll so they must have something going on or else I wouldn't have chosen to follow them.

Congrats winners, and thanks again, Miss Nikki. Sorry if I didn't present this with as much enthusiasm as it warranted, but in case you missed it above, I'm creatively and inspirational-ly dead inside.

Now please excuse me while I go drown my sorrows. 

* I realize there's an official day for this sort of thing, but I prefer doing things my way. Deal with it.
** But not necessarily accurate. I can't be held responsible for my counting skills.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

RST: Moving, new glasses, Wegmans, temporary, TV in the b'room,beer, zombies, and jobs

Thanks to McGriddle Pants, it is once again, Random Shit Tuesday!

My Debbie-Downer randomness...

Well, I made the big move this past weekend. It was pretty uneventful and went relatively smoothly with minimal cursing. It seems every time I move, I get smarter about it. It also seems every time I move I manage to make one major screw-up. This time I managed to pack away all my gym clothes in the bottom of a trunk that I thought only contained bedding and towels and therefore allowed it to get packed into the back and the bottom of a storage facility. I suck.


I went and picked out new glasses yesterday (again). As you may recall, I was torn between three different pairs. #3 (the pair I was totally crushing on) weren't available at the Pearl Vision I went to in VA. #2, a pretty popular pair, were either unavailable or way out of my price range, because they didn't make the cut. #1, which I LOVED were available, and looked great, and I loved them on too, but I managed to allow myself to be talked out of getting them (which I'm totally regretting now) because they were too trendy or whatever. I don't know how I manage to continuously get talked into and out of things, but I do. I suck. At any rate, here's the pair I went with, which I really liked too, and look great on, but... well, whatever. Here they are:

Alright, well, obviously these aren't them. For the life of me, I couldn't find the glasses online. Which has me a little nervous. I'm sure they're online, but the fact that I can't find them must mean that they're not all that memorable, which has me nervous because people already have a hard time remembering me. So instead of just being "that girl that no one can remember what her name is," I'll be, "that girl with the plain glasses that no one can remember what her name is." At least if I had gotten glasses #1 (see below) I would be, "that girl with the really cool glasses, what's her name again? Oh, right, April." *Sigh* When will I ever remember to go with my gut. Anyways, the glasses will be ready in about a week, so maybe next Random Shit Tuesday I'll have a pic for you. Damn, I do suck.
I will forever want you, dear glasses. You are so cool.


I found myself in Wegmans yesterday. I've been in Wegmans a couple of times before, but I've never actually gone to do any grocery shopping there. As you may recall, I hate grocery shopping. The only thing worse than grocery shopping is grocery shopping with other people. The only thing worse than grocery shopping with other people is grocery shopping with other people in an unfamiliar store. Which I did yesterday. Ugh. Long story short, I'm wandering around this overwhelming store trying to find my staples and failing miserably. They didn't have my Greek yogurt. They didn't have any whole wheat English muffins that didn't contain Sucralose. They didn't have any decent grapefruit. Ugh. Talk about suckity suck suck.


It has occurred to me that I am now living in a house of men again. Thank god the dog is female. Thank god this arrangement is only temporary (If they, and by they I mean horribly misguided folk, ever make a movie about my life, I'm pretty sure this would be the title, Only Temporary). I really don't like the part of NOVA I'm currently in. As soon as some life situations have been sorted out, I should be living in a more desirable (to me) location within a couple of months (looks like Arlington is the top contender, but I'm still holding on to my dreams of relocating to Alexandria or DC).


The room I'm currently residing in is set up in a manner that has the TV positioned just so so when you're sitting on the pot (that would be the toilet), and the door is open (while no one else is home, obvs) you can still totally watch TV. Just saying.


I spent my evening last night drinking beer and getting ripped to shreds by zombies. One of the upsides of living with men, they have all the new video games. And beer. They always have beer. Yay.


I would like to take this moment to vent. You know how I've been searching for a job, for like, forever? Yeah, well did you know there are people out there, full-time employed people, who are being offered better jobs with higher pay every day? As in, companies are emailing them and calling them up on a daily basis and offering them jobs on the spot that pay $80,000+ with all sorts of benefits and shit, and oh, can you start this week? WTF? I'm so envious. In the past 8 years, I've applied for over 130 art teaching jobs. Yeah, that's right over 130. And all I've managed to land was a long-term sub position and a .4 position. *Sigh* I suck.

There you go. My totally bummer, depressing Random Shit Tuesday. Sorry for being such a downer. I had the best intentions with this post, but, eh. I'm not feeling it. I'll try to be back to my regular, cheery, funny self soon. I think. I hope. We'll see how it goes.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Previously on OBG... 1.3

Previously on OBG is on hiatus this week.

Check back next Monday for an all new episode.
In the meantime, enjoy this music video...

Sunday, June 27, 2010

I'll have the Cocoa Puffs. Hold the ants.

I've never been one of those people to get squirmy about insects. Well, for the most part. As long as they aren't actually on me. Okay, so maybe I get a little squirmy. But not when it comes to spiders. I know plenty of people who are terrified of spiders. But not me. I mean, as long as they're not actually on me. I am a spider killer. No. Scratch that. I am a spider slayer. True story

Death to all spiders!

Growing up, I was frequently called upon by Twin and Miss P.'s super tough, motorcycle riding, athletic, lumberjack boyfriend to KILL ALL SPIDERS. This was a job I completed valiantly; often times while laughing my ass off. I mean, consider for a moment Miss P.'s boyfriend- a guy taller than 6', easily over 230 lbs., a star athlete in high school, and a mighty woodsman to boot- running and screaming like a little girl. But no worries, I, the brave girl I was, 6 years his junior, saved the day and destroyed the menacing beasts (there may have been some taunting involved. I can't be sure. The details are fuzzy).

At any rate, spiders and I have had very few beefs over the years. We tend to have this mutual agreement. As long as they stay in their corner, all tucked-up, comfy cozy in their wittle webby webs, I won't kill them. There was only one time when they broke this agreement. This peace treaty, if you will.

I was temporarily living in a farmhouse in the Hudson Valley area of NY, and it had just entered the warm, rainy, early fall season. And by rainy, I mean torrential down pour. Evidently this was also the time the playful wolf spiders came out to play. Yes, I said wolf spiders. I can't say for sure if that's what they were. It's not like I'm an expert or anything, but they certainly looked like wolf spiders from what I could find on the internet.

Imagine sitting on the couch, eating some dinner, trying to watch TV, when this fucker runs across the room and hides under the couch!

These guys are out for blood!*

Yeah, and then imagine, out of the corner of your eye, you see another one scurry up the wall. You can bet your bottom dollar I was perched on top of the coffee table faster than you can say, "Fuck this!" There was no chance in hell I was stepping on the floor with those fuckers running around. Trust me, with a diameter easily 2" wide, those were not spiders you wanted to be stepping on while wearing your $2.50 Old Navy flip flops. Those fuckers not only crunched, they snapped, crackled AND popped.

And here's what Cornell University has to say about these lovely creatures:
Wolf spiders are named for their tendency to be slightly furry, brown or grey spiders that run after their prey. They have long sturdy legs and good vision from two of their eight enlarged eyes. The abundant wolf spiders forage on the ground or in the lower parts of plants at night. Female wolf spiders carry light-colored, spherical egg sacs attached to their spinnerets. Once hatched, the spider lings cling to hairs on their mother’s abdomen for about a week. 
And then, if you can believe it, they recommend this:
When you go out at night, look at the ground in front of you with a flashlight held next to your head at the same level as your eyes. You can see many silvery blue-green spots reflecting back at you from the eyes of numerous wolf spiders in the grass.
Hells no! Do you think I have some sort of death wish? Those fuckers run after their prey! Long story short, I was killing 3-4 of these fuckers a night. Thankfully they were partial to the living room, but once they started venturing out into the kitchen and towards the stairs, where the bedrooms were, well, let's just say I was out of that house no more than two weeks after the first sighting. I won't even tell you how many I killed, but the number was over 20. I carried a fireplace brush and a can of spider spray around with me everywhere I went. And don't even get me started on the zombie spider part of this story. Yes, I said zombie. Or maybe they were cannibals. I don't know. All I know is that the corpses never stuck around for long (I liked to leave the corpses lying about as a warning to the other spiders).


Anyways, back to my original story (and because I'm pretty sure I've reached my quota for the use of the word "fuckers"). Me and bugs are generally alright with each other. And spiders and I are all good once again. Ants, on the other hand, ants are an entirely different story. I hate ants. I hate them because they are tiny and creepy and crawly and they are everywhere and most of the time, you don't even know it.
This one time, at band camp I was eating breakfast, Cranberry Almond Crunch, to be more specific, and I was watching TV while joyfully chowing down on my cereal. Well, The Today Show must have been particularly enthralling that morning, because when I felt a little tickle on my hand, I barely noticed it.

{Crunch, Crunch}

When I felt the tickle again, well, this time I noticed. I looked down on my hand and there was this little red ant. I quickly shooed him away. But then I noticed another one on my finger. Ew. And then I noticed a couple more on the spoon I was holding. WTF? And then, wouldn't you know it, I took a look at the cereal on the spoon, that I was about to put in my mouth, and there were MORE ants.

Fuck me!

I dropped the spoon back in the bowl in complete and utter disgust. And that's when it got a gazillion times worse. That's when I discovered how utterly disgusted one could actually feel. There were ants literally swimming in my bowl of cereal. And I had already eaten half the bowl.

Any ants in there? Hard to say. Could be cranberries, could be ants.

It took everything I could muster to not puke my Post cereal back up. I wish I could say that was the beginning and the end of my ant eating days, but alas, it was not. About 6 or 7 years later I had the exact same experience all over again. Only this time they were little black ants, and I was eating Cocoa Puffs.

Wow. Ants are racist.

* Just so you know, I browsed through over 50 pages of spider pictures to find the right one for this post. I'm sure I'll have nightmares about it tonight. You're welcome.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

I ♥ Etsy, The 'Shroom Edition

So, as some of you may know, I ♥ Etsy. True story.

Now, unless you've been living under a rock (or maybe a toadstool), then you've noticed that mushrooms are making a comeback. Therefore, I present to you...

I ♥ Etsy, the 'Shrooms.

4. nerdnook  5. LennyMud  6. HeyFriends  

And I think these salt and pepper shakers would be perfect in my dream kitchen!

Friday, June 25, 2010

Mountain Girl, meet City Girl

"Well, I guess you're the city girl."

Or so says my mom, the last time I spoke to her.
I guess she's right.

I couldn't imagine returning to my hometown for any extensive length of time. A weekend is fine, a night is better, but anything more than that is just unbearable.

I grew up in a small town in the Adirondacks in Northern NY. As in, two hours north of Albany (yes, NY State continues beyond Albany, and I'm not talking about Buffalo either). I suppose it could have been worse. I mean, if we're talking crime, well, crime was pretty much non-existent in my hometown. A picturesque town boasting a population of 1,250 (2008), my hometown is one of the most serene and non-threatening places you could raise a family. Of course, it's also one of the most boring, uneventful and seriously lacking in opportunity towns to grow up in. It's no surprise that very few young residents stick around after graduation. In fact, as soon as I graduated, I cut out of there as fast as I could.

 My hometown. Yes, this is actually a picture of the town I grew up in. Believe it or not. 
In case you're wondering, my homes (yes, plural) were miles away from here. In the mountains.

Ever since I left, I've been trying to find my place in the world. So far, that journey has taken me to five different regions in NY state. It seems the closer I get to large, metropolitan areas, the happier I am. Despite my introverted tendencies. I'm pretty positive I was born to be a city girl. I blame the ADD in me. I crave activity and nightlife and excitement and chaos and attention and sushi at 10 pm and pizza at 3 am. I want it all. I need it all. That wasn't always the case, however.

I am a born-and-raised, true-blue, mountain girl. I spent my summers barefoot. I swam in mountain lakes and rode four-wheelers down mountain roads. I picked blackberries with my sisters, while keeping an eye out for bears. I can drive a stick-shift, and I know how to drive in the snow, ice and rain. I know what it's like to have to hike up the driveway because it's too muddy/icy to drive up. I've seen deer gutted, skinned and hanging from the rafters of a garage. I know what poutine, Red Hots and Michigans are and I know where to get the best of both.

The house my dad built. Literally. I lived here for a majority of the first 15 years of my life. 
My dad used to own over 100 acres of the surrounding forests.

I've partied in the woods, around a bonfire, with mosquitoes nipping at my ankles. I've partied on the Lake while middle-aged women parade around in their obscenely small bikinis. I've partied in run-down bars in the middle of nowhere featuring strippers who were missing their teeth (a story for another day). I've partied in bars with rednecks, hicks and townies. I've partied at pig roasts. I've partied in fields with guitar-playing, bongo-pounding hippies. I've partied with the band. I've partied with the cooks. I partied on the Swastika (there's a story behind this). I've partied in the snow, the rain, the sun, the sleet and the mud. I've partied in tents, in trailers, in trucks and in back-woods camps. Oh yes, I have partied in the mountains.

In the mountains, function comes before fashion. In the mountains, sometimes you have to bathe in the lake when your well has dried up during a particularly dry summer. In the mountains, you know how to live with no power for a week when there's an ice storm. In the mountains, you can't get cable, high-speed internet or cell phone coverage. In the mountains, your neighborhood is the woods.

Growing up, my sisters and I spent hours playing in the woods. I loved the smell of the woods, and I loved to wander through them and imagine that I was in some other country or fantasy land. The woods were my refuge when I was sad, angry or lonely. Being so surrounded by nature was calming and peaceful. Of course, it was also very isolating and restricting.

 The areas of NYS that I've lived in. See how I've been making my way down the state? 
Obviously the city has been calling to me for years and drawing me closer and closer.

I fell in love with big cities after my first trip to NYC. It only took two more trips to NYC and a trip to Philadelphia to solidify my desire to live in a metropolitan area. In a couple of days I'll be moving to the outskirts of DC. While in my heart I will always be a mountain girl, I'm super excited to become a city girl. I can't wait to explore the DC area and discover new things. And hopefully find a job along the way as well. Call me crazy, but I love the idea of walking everywhere and riding public transportation (I'm sure that novelty will wear off pretty quickly).

Over the past eight or nine months, I have made several trips to NOVA and the DC area, and I'm psyched to become a part of the city lifestyle. While I have some reservations about my move, these reservations are limited to the personal aspects of my life. I have no reservations about living in NOVA/DC. The food, the nightlife, the hustle and bustle and excitement of it all (and hopefully better job prospects)... I can't wait!

Me, in the mountains. Some of you might remember this picture from my first ever blog header. 
Or was it my second?

Of course, my change in lifestyle will inevitably affect my blog. While I hope to maintain a constant presence in the blogging community, I can't guarantee that I will be able to follow through with that. That being said, here's what I anticipate for my blog down the road:
  • I hope to make "Previously on the OBG" a regular feature on Mondays, but those posts are a lot of work and not always worth it, but I anticipate my weekends to be more fun and exciting, so I'll probably have more to write about. Eh, let's see how this one goes.
  • Random Shit Tuesday will stay. I always have random shit to say.
  • I expect to dedicate my infrequent weekend posts to the shit that I like. For example, my I ♥ Etsy posts and other things that are more for me as a way to document me and my style preferences. No one reads blogs on the weekends anyways, right?
  • As for the rest of the week, I expect to still bring you the intelligent, insightful, clever writing that I've been bringing to you all along. Wait, what? Yeah, you heard me. I'm insightful, intelligent and clever. And you will be hearing from me. I just can't guarantee it will be every day. Like I said, we'll see how it goes.
I'm sure I'll have lots of tales to tell and experiences to report upon. Maybe I'll find myself a job and regale you all with work-related posts. Or maybe I'll make tons of new friends and share my wild times with you. Or maybe I'll just bitch about the horrors of moving and starting over. Or maybe I'll become one of those bloggers who talks about my personal relationships. No I won't. Don't worry, I'll never be that person (not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just not for me). 

In the meantime, if anyone has any NOVA/DC advice or suggestions, I would love to hear them. I'm talking about good places to live. Good places to eat. Good places to go on the weekends. Good places to shop. How to survive the Metro. And so on and so on.

I hope I'm making the right decision with this move. This Mountain Girl is about to become a City Girl. Wish me luck!

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Step away from the pickle: Cohabitating, OBG style.

So you've chosen to cohabitate, huh?

Cohabitation isn't for everyone. Some people prefer the LAT route. Regardless of your reason for choosing cohabitation, whether it be because you love your honey bunny, lovey wovey soooooo much, or because you're broke and can't afford separate living arrangements, every couple should establish some guidelines prior to making the big jump. Living with another person can be very traumatizing and quite often aggravating.

To help you with the transition, I present:

(These guidelines, while written in a manner that would indicate that they are solely intended for men, are intended to be unisex. History has shown that OBG prefers cohabitating with men, therefore it would be only natural that these guidelines be written for them. However, these guidelines can easily be reworked to target women. So take heed, ladies.) 
Please note, these guidelines will not work for everyone. Please feel free to adjust them to your individual needs. However, if you ever find yourself cohabitating with OBG, you're going to want to know these like the back of your hand.
Let's begin.
Time and Space. All people need personal time and personal space. This rule applies to individuals who have chosen to couple-up as well. Sometimes it's hard to tell when one needs some alone time. Generally speaking, hissing and spitting is a good indication that your sweetie could use some space. If you're trying to have a conversation with your honey and she glares at you, snaps at you, neglects to respond, and/or stabs you with a Bic ballpoint pen, your best course of action is to end all attempts to interact, slowly back away, and try again later. Pushing your love-bug into spending time with you or trying to engage in snuggling at in inopportune moment is a recipe for disaster. In time, if you are patient and observant enough, you will learn to recognize the subtle signs of your schmoozie-whoozie's moods. Until then, it is best to inquire about your sweetie's state of mind prior to making your move.
Love Bunny will CUT A BITCH STAB A DICK! 
In the Kitchen. All people need to eat. As a couple, you will be tempted to eat together. Proceed with caution.  Not everyone likes to eat their meals at the same time of day. You may find that your smoochie-poo tends to eat breakfast at 10:00 am while you eat breakfast at 6:30 am before heading off to work. While a three and a half hour difference doesn't seem like much, there's a pretty good chance your meal schedules are out of sync. Don't allow this to become an issue. If Honey Bunny wants to eat dinner at 9:00 pm and you're hungry at 6:00 pm, go ahead and eat when you're hungry. You and Love-bug can always enjoy your weekend meals together.

Furthermore, as a couple, you'll be tempted to do your grocery shopping together. Don't do it. People tend to have specific strategies they employ when tackling the chore of grocery shopping. Chances are you and Snuggle-Bear will have different strategies. Attempting to shop together will only aggravate one or both of you. Try to do your grocery shopping separate and at times that are convenient to each of you. If, as a couple, you decide that Sugar-plum will be responsible for the acquisition of food, make a point of creating a grocery list together. Chances are you'll be craving some Chunky Monkey, but unless you tell Baby-Cakes, she won't pick it up for you. It is inevitable that you will be unaware of your burning love for pickles until your googleybear puts it on the list. DO NOT make the assumption that she will be willing to share her tangy dills with you. Favorite foods are exempt from sharing. If you must have pickles, ask Love-bug to pick up two jars. The same rule applies to chocolate. Honey will not want to share her chocolate with you. On the other hand, your chocolate is fair game. This may sound like a double-standard, but it is not. Keeping your sweetie stocked with chocolate will make life happier for everyone.
This shit only happens on first dates. And in the movies. 
In the Bedroom. Do not assume that the bedroom will be a happy, romantic love-nest others tell you it will be. As a couple, sharing a bedroom presents its own problems. You and your sweetums are likely to have different ideas as to what is acceptable to do in the bedroom (for further reading, see Sex). Honey-Bun may believe that it is entirely appropriate to do any of the following while in bed; eat, drink, sleep, read, draw, paint, talk on the phone, check her email, clip her toenails, paint her toenails, and watch movies. On the other hand, you may believe that while in bed, it is appropriate to only do the following; watch TV, sleep, fart, and get-it-on. As you can imagine, these differences may become a source of contention for you and Snookums. It is inevitable that you will need to make some compromises in this situation. Pooky might be willing to give up snacking on Triscuits while in bed and giving herself pedicures in your love-nest if you refrain from insisting she "catch a whiff" (for further reading, see The Bathroom and Other Bodily Functions).

It is highly unlikely that you and your squiggle-button will have the same bedtime. You might have the ability to fall asleep seconds after your head hits the pillow while your schmoopy is an insomniac who tosses and turns until 4:00 am. Do not expect that you and Love-Bug will be peacefully spooning in bed every night at 9:00 pm. This is unrealistic. Unfortunately, depending on how out of sync your sleep schedules are, separate sleeping arrangements may be necessary. Furthermore, if you must wake up early, do so with the least amount of disturbance to your sleeping angel-face. Go about your morning routine as quickly, as quietly, and with as little light as possible.
With an innocent flick of the switch, sleeping Angel Face instantly transforms into Vampire Bitch. "WHO TURNED THE FUCKING LIGHTS ON?" 
(Source) and (Source)
Entertainment. You may be under the impression that you and Love Muffin have the same tastes in music, movies, hobbies, sports and TV shows. This is not true. Chances are both you and your honey bunny stretched the truth on your preferences. Don't hate on each other. This deception can be blamed on pheromones. During your first days of dating, you and Googleybear wanted to have as much in common with each other as possible, with the end result being that you both would think that you were made for each other. Over time, however, you will discover that your tastes differ drastically. You may feel compelled to mock Love-Bug's love of indie punk rock. Try to refrain yourself. Hurting your honey's feelings, while initially entertaining, will inevitably end badly for you. iPods and earbuds were invented to maintain peace in relationships. Make sure you both use them when in the presence of each other. If anything, they will prevent Snuggle-Bear from using a machete to hack your $1500 speakers to pieces after being forced to listen to your entire collection of Jack Johnson albums.

When it comes to the "good" TV, the rule of first come, first served applies. Do not attempt to interrupt Pookums' ANTM marathon to play Xbox, regardless of how lame you think Tyra Banks is. When these situations arise, you have two options, one, go watch TV in another room, or two, enjoy the rare opportunity to watch young, hot, scantily clad models parade across your HDTV. When choosing movies to see as a couple, it is important to work out an arrangement acceptable to both of you. If you insist that Cuddle Buddle Biddle Bear has to watch Avatar, don't complain when she wants you to see 500 Days of Summer. If you can not agree on a suitable arrangement, it may be necessary to find movie buddies outside of your coupledom. 
 Having never established the First Come, First Served rule, Love Muffin
would do whatever it took to get her Kardashian fix.
Decor. Your style will never be as sophisticated as Love-Bug's. All of your good taste was used up when you chose Love-Bug as your Honey Bunny Pumpkin Face. Let her do all the decorating and be sure to thank her for it. After all, she knows that the reason your bed feels like a comfy, cozy, silky cloud has everything to do with goose down and thread count. You don't even know what a thread count is.
He thought the cardboard box printed bedding was ironic.
Honey Bunny showed him the real meaning of irony. 
Sex. Sex, in any relationship, is extremely important. It is very crucial to establish a compatible sexual routine. It is imperative that you and Sweet Peach Jelly Bean discuss both of your sexual expectations prior to cohabiting. DO NOT assume that your sexual history with Snooki Wooki Huggy Bear is any indication of what your sex life will be like during cohabitation. Prior to cohabitation your sex life was most likely based on raging pheromones, alcohol, and opportunity. Once you start sharing your bed, you may discover that you enjoy wake-up sex while your snuggle-bear, the insomniac, likes to get-it-on in the evening, or mid-day, or late-morning, but not early morning. This is something you will need to work out with each other. Regardless of time of day, it is good to know that sexual relations should never occur while Sugar Lips is feeling fat and bloated as a result of a large meal, PMS, or constipation. These are not things you can inquire about. If your honey fails to respond to your advances, it is safe to assume that she is experiencing one of the above.

You may also discover that you prefer to engage in coitus while in bed. This can be a problem if you and Kittentits have different sleep schedules. You may also discover that Honey believes the bed is no place for coitus and would instead prefer to engage in sexual activities in the living room or on the stairs or in the car or in the kitchen, on the counter top smeared with chili grease that causes a week-long ass rash. Do not, under any circumstances, judge each other. You will need to work out any sexual differences you have in order to ensure the success of your cohabitation. This will require that you be open to new ideas, suggestions, and positions. Experimentation is key. Remember science class? You conducted experiments in science class so you could learn. Same idea here.
Kittentits is feeling fat and will have none of that
The Bathroom and Other Bodily Functions. It is very important to preserve the magic while involved in a cohabitating relationship. The easiest way to do this is to establish some bathroom and bodily functions guidelines. When using the bathroom, the door should remain closed. At all times. There are no exceptions. Bathroom time is private time. And if one finds it necessary to engage in certain solo activities while in the bathroom, or in any other room, one should ensure that the door(s) is(are) locked prior to engagement. Furthermore, one should not expect shower sex to become a regular occurrence while cohabitating. You may think that it would be a good idea to sneak into the bathroom while Lady Love is rinsing and repeating, but this is not the case. Despite what you see in pornos, movies, and music videos, shower sex is rarely sexy.

There is a time and place for bodily functions. In the vicinity of your honey is neither the time nor the place. This is very important. If you must fart, belch and/or pick you nose, you should do so while alone. Or while with your best buds. You do not have sexual relations with your buddies. If you want to continue having sexual relations with Fuzzy Bubble Funny Bunny do not behave in her presence the way you would with your buds.
I am not your bro, yo, I'm your ho, and these legs will not part if ye farts 
Chores. Most grown adults will find ways to pay other people to do their chores for them. This is because chores are boring. If you and Love Monkey Honeypie Sugar Britches are sans kids and do not have the resources to hire a maid, you will find it advantageous to share the responsibility of chores. It would be unwise to use your employment as an excuse to evade chores. The upkeep of your home should not be the sole responsibility of one person in the relationship. You and Honeybunches Buttercup Cookie Duck agreed to cohabitate together. You agreed to share your living quarters with each other. Therefore, you should expect to share the responsibility of the upkeep of said living quarters. This is non-negotiable.
 Sugar Britches was feeling resentful, so she devised a scheme that would ensure 
she'd never have to mow the lawn again, and maybe get a new vacuum cleaner too. 

And there you have it. I hope this guide has been informative and will help to make your transition into cohabitation less painful. 

With any luck, you and Snuggle Bug will have a very long and happy cohabitating relationship together.
Good luck.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

To Cohabitate or to Not Cohabitate?

That apparently, is the question.

When I first watched the movie Frida, one thing about Frida Kahlo's relationship with Diego Rivera really struck me. (Okay, well, a few things struck me, but I am only going to write about one thing here.) Kahlo and Rivera were married, but they did not cohabitate. In other words, they maintained separate residences. Often times they lived adjacent to each other. To be honest, the first time I heard about this, I was intrigued, but we are talking years ago so I quickly forgot about this. I recently (as in within the last four months) discovered that another famous couple also chose to maintain separate domiciles, Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton. I am a huge fan of their work, and when I heard they did not live together, I was again intrigued.

I proceeded to do a little research, and I discovered that not only are there millions of couples out there who do this, but there is also a term for it. It is called "Living Apart Together" (LAT), and it is a concept that is said to have originated in the Netherlands. Couples cite numerous different reason for choosing to live apart. Some LAT couples do so because of their jobs. Some do so because they have children from a previous marriage and combining households would be disruptive. Some LAT couples, like Kahlo and Rivera, live apart in order to pursue extra-marital affairs. And some couples just do it because they do not like the thought of living with someone else.

 These two were not about to give up their
whoring ways for anyone.

Let me explain why this whole LAT thing has me so intrigued. I lived with someone, off and on, for six years out of our nine year relationship. During those six years I learned more about the other person than I ever wanted to know, I gave up more of my personal space and time than I ever wanted to give up, and I had to compromise more than I was comfortable with in regards to decor, routine, and lifestyle. Of course, at the time, I was not aware of any of this. It was not until moving out that I had such a revelation.

I have never considered myself to be a selfish person, however, I have always known that I am a very private, introverted individual. I enjoy my alone time and I require a lot of it. I like the freedom of being alone. I like the freedom of being able to pick up my art supplies at 2 o'clock in the morning and drawing for three hours while in bed. I like the freedom of being able to hop in the car and run to the grocery store or the bookstore on a whim. I like the freedom of being able to eat a quickly thrown together dinner at 9 pm while reading a book, watching TV, and listening to the latest album I downloaded. Living with someone else makes this very difficult to do. Plus, I'm an insomniac, and being an insomniac and living with someone else do not work well together.

I am also a very visual person, and having things around me that I find to be visually pleasing makes me happy. It is very difficult for me to live with someone whose own style contrasts greatly with my own. As an artistic person, aesthetics is very important to me. To cohabitate with someone(s) who has little regard for colors, shapes, patterns and style, is highly aggravating. And to sacrifice my visual pleasure because of someone else's lack of taste is something I am not necessarily willing to do.* 

Some people argue that when you marry or just commit to another, you should then gather up your two separate lives and create a new, joint life together... as a couple. And you will then live happily ever after, together, forever. But of course, not without a lot of work. And not without some arguing and disagreeing and compromising. Once upon a time, I believed this as well, but as I venture through my journey of self-discovery, I am beginning to believe this less and less.

 See what these two have to say about their living
arrangements: Mr. and Mrs. Mad Hatter.

I have always maintained the philosophy that the most important thing in life is to be happy, regardless of what that entails. In my opinion, if you are happy, then your life is fulfilled. Call me naive, or just plain stupid, but I would rather be happy in life than living to just "make things work". I don't necessarily believe that one needs to make numerous compromises and give up parts of themselves in order to commit to another person. In fact, I think life would be better for everyone if people didn't feel forced to compromise and reluctantly sacrifice the things about them that make them unique individuals.

When people first meet, they meet as individuals. Throughout the dating process, people are more than willing to make some sacrifices in order to get to know each other. They go to dinner, they go to shows, they rent movies and cuddle on the couch. As time goes by, their lives become more and more entwined with each other. In a perfect world, the two individuals will mesh perfectly together with very little disturbance to their lifestyles. In reality, many couples give up a lot of who they were as individuals for the sake of the relationship. In my opinion, this is one of the most damaging things that can happen to a relationship.

When you give up your hobbies, your lifestyle, the things that make you happy, you become an entirely different person. You are no longer the individual that your partner met and fell in love with. Over time the magic, the excitement, the novelty disappears. There are numerous tips and guides out there that advise couples on how to recapture the magic and excitement in their relationships. Instead of trying to recapture something lost, how can couples prevent the loss in the first place? What is it about committing to someone for the long-haul that creates mundane relationships and complacency?

I know what did it for me. For me it was getting to know the other person too well. It was getting to know all the little details, bad habits and annoyances of the other person. It was about hearing all the same stories over and over and over again. It was experiencing the same things as the other person, living the same life and then having nothing new and exciting to talk about. It was about giving up the things that make me me. It was about feeling obligated, through no fault of the other person, but just by being in a relationship, to do everyday things together. All the time. It was the obligation of eating meals together. The obligation of finding things to do on the weekends together. It was the suffocating, confining, panicky feelings an introverted loner feels whenever they have to spend a majority of their time with other people, regardless of who they might be.**

Things didn't work out quite as well for this famous
LAT couple.

I admire the LAT couples of the world. I am envious that they can afford to maintain separate living quarters, but more importantly, I envy their ability to recognize the importance of preserving their relationship by preserving their individual lives and happiness. And if by doing so they have to live apart, I applaud them for their strength, confidence and trust in each other to make it work. Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera being the exception, of course. Their relationship was so destructive and toxic, I do not believe anything could have really helped their relationship to succeed. But maybe that worked for them. Different strokes and what have you.

Further reading:
Living Apart Together by Carrie Sloan

* This came off as sounding extremely pretentious. I apologize for that as I am very much not a pretentious person. Although at times I have my moments. It's just that I know what I like and I love what I like. And having personal preferences is not something I will apologize for.
** Or maybe I just wasn't ready. Maybe twenty-two was too young to move in with someone and make that kind of commitment. Maybe I didn't get the chance to live enough life as me before attempting to create a life with someone else. We may never know.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

RST: COBRA, English muffins, on hold, The Smurfs movie, checking acct, and new glasses

Thanks to McGriddle Pants, it is once again, Random Shit Tuesday!

My randomness...

As an unemployed individual, $133 a month for health insurance is good right? With dental and vision. So, I should probably sign-up for COBRA, right? I should. I know I should. $133 is a damn good deal. Now I just have to figure out how to come up with $133 each month...


I love English muffins. Love 'em! Especially when I push the toasting right up to the point when the edges start to toe the line of being golden brown and becoming burnt. And then the English muffin is all sorts of crispy and soft with all sorts of yummy nooks and crannies for my butter or jam to melt into. Yum.


Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line and your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.

Okay, now imagine listening to that for 15 minutes while trying to get through to the NYS Office of Teaching Initiatives. That's what I did when I had to call to check up on my permanent certification application so I can hopefully receive reciprocity in another state and get a job. (For more on my joys of job searching/suffering as a substitute, read Friday's post, unless you already did.) I was actually pleasantly surprised that it only took 15 minutes to get through. Those people are notoriously impossible to get a hold of. I was also pleasantly surprised when they pushed my application through right then and there. Guess it pays to pick up the phone.


Why can't people just leave well enough alone? 

Of course, I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about. Yup, that's right, this travesty...

Yup, that's right. The Smurfs in 3D. Good God, is nothing sacred anymore? I mean, I'm all for retro and reminiscing about our childhood, but I personally think this is going just a little too far. I mean, they already ruined Garfield and Scooby Doo, but now The Smurfs? I guess I wouldn't have such a problem with it if they had stayed true to the original cartoon, but here's what IMDb gives as the plot summary:
When the evil wizard Gargamel chases the tiny blue Smurfs out of their village, they tumble from their magical world and into ours -- in fact, smack dab in the middle of Central Park. Just three apples high and stuck in the Big Apple, the Smurfs must find a way to get back to their village before Gargamel tracks them down. Written by Columbia Pictures
Maybe it won't be too bad. I mean, The Muppets Take Manhattan wasn't so bad, right? And I'm pretty sure Hank Azaria will be a phenomenal Gargamel.

I'm kind of impressed with the rest of the cast as well. Some notable voices lent to the film are:
Papa Smurf- Jonathon Winters (voice-overs for The Pound Puppies, the original Smurfs, and other classic cartoons)
Smurfette- Katy Perry (apparently her acting debut)
Gutsy Smurf- Alan Cumming (I loved him in Tin Man but he also played Nightcrawler in X-Men)
Baker Smurf- B.J. Novak (The Office)
Jokey Smurf- Paul Reubens (uh, Pee Wee Herman, duh)
Grouchy Smurf- George Lopez (not sure how I feel about this one...)
Brainy Smurf- Fred Armisen (SNL)
Greedy Smurf- Kenan Thompson (also SNL)
Vanity Smurf- John Oliver (The Daily Show with John Stewart)
Handy Smurf- Jeff Foxworthy (This one actually bums me out because I used to have a crush on Handy Smurf, as much as a five year old can have a crush on a cartoon character, so this is disappointing. I mean, wasn't Clive Owen or Gerard Butler or Eric Bana available?)
Chef Smurf- Wolfgang Puck (What the F? Well, okay)
Hefty Smurf- Gary Basaraba (Whosit whatsa now? Never heard of him.)
So, I'm still kind of on the fence on this. On one hand, bringing the Smurfs to NYC seems pretty lame to me. On the other hand, I'm impressed with the cast (although dismayed that they're all brunettes, I mean, I know they're only lending their voices, but still. Just saying.) Oh, and Neil Patrick Harris is also in it as some dude who befriends the Smurfs, so maybe this has potential? I don't know. 

What are your thoughts? Do you agree with the casting? Any better suggestions for casting? 

And where's Dreamy Smurf? And Harmony? And Painter and Poet and Actor? You know what? Go check out the original list of characters here.


I have a huge fear of checking the balance of my bank account. Not because I'm afraid of how little money will be in there, but because I'm afraid there will be more money in it than I expected. I always run on the assumption that I have very little money in my checking account, thus hindering me from making any purchases beyond the necessities (food, gas, beer).

However, the moment I discover I have more money than I thought I had, well, then my brain gets giddy and is all like, "Yay! Free money!" And then I go on a mini-spending spree. You know, I hit the mall, peruse the clearance racks, and buy a t-shirt for $7.99 and a pair of jeans 70% off for $15.99?

Yeah, watch out,  I am out of control!


I wasn't going to do this, because I thought this post was long enough already, but I have other shit planned to post for the rest of the week, so please, allow me to bitch about my glasses. 

I picked up my new glasses the other day and I learned a very important lesson. If you're going to get a drastically new haircut, do so before picking out new glasses. Otherwise, the glasses you selected that were proportionate to your fat head and were selected to make your round, fat head look, well, less round and fat will no longer suit your new face which was made smaller and less round by your new haircut. Case in point (I can't believe I'm sharing this):

On second thought, no I'm not. Never mind. The glasses are too awful to share. I have deleted all photos that existed of me wearing them. They're gone. Gone for good. Thank god for the 30-day guarantee. I'm thinking of smaller and rounder. Here are a few that I like. You've all seen the new haircut, so tell me what you think.*

Votes: 6
Votes: 6
Votes: 1

Of course, it all depends on the cost... so... I can't be sure that I can get any of these since the prices aren't listed online. WTF? But I'm madly in love with #3, and I know that #2 is available in Midnight Blue, so that's a contender too... and #1 is just cool, and although I'm going for rounder frames, I still like these. So... what do you think?*

* I put this in bold hoping that it will stand out more and therefore you will all know that I really, really want your opinion on this. And if you're willing to go the extra mile (and I won't blame you if you aren't), I'm getting my glasses from here, so feel free to browse their gallery and then make your suggestions. Or not. Whatever. 

Monday, June 21, 2010

Previously on OBG... 1.2

(the following should be read less like Dallas and more like... uh... what's a show where the main character is a loner and spends most of the weekend home, by herself, and then holds conversations with herself inside her head? Yeah, like that.)

Although inspired in part by a true incident, 
the following story is fictional 
and does not depict any actual person or event.*
When we last left OBG...
...she was recovering from Facebook humiliation and was contemplating quitting blogging for awhile, but then she got an amazing haircut that made the grey skies clear up and she was able to put on happy face once again (see sidebar profile picture for proof) despite being ruthlessly attacked by a wannabe and being extremely discouraged by the lack of job options.
We now join OBG in her bedroom, sitting on her futon/bed which she has wisely turned into futon/couch hoping to trick her insomnia into disappearing by making it think she isn't going to bed at night but merely watching TV on the couch, which, in the past, has been a recipe for through-the-night snoozing. We should not blame her for her innocence as her new haircut has made her look (and act?) ten years younger. But I digress. Back to the futon/couch...
In-Head OBG (playing DS, watching Transformers, drinking beer and eating popcorn): Huh. I wonder if I should be concerned that 19-year old Texas Housemate and I are doing the exact same thing on a Friday night? Nah. I bet he's not eating popcorn. And he's probably not playing DS either.
Out-Loud OBG: Fuck!
In-Head OBG: Stupid green Snood. I didn't want you there. Did that red Snood just show me fangs? Oh my God, he did! Snoods are evil. I never knew. I wonder if others know? Should I tell them?
Out-Loud OBG (crunching down on popcorn kernel): Ugh! Fuck! Stupid popcorn.
In-Head OBG: I love popcorn. I'm glad I bought it. I'm glad I bought beer too. I love beer. Yum.
Judy Witwicky (on TV, duh): Were you... masturbating?
Out-Loud OBG: Ah-ha-ha-ha!
In-Head OBG: You're funny, Mrs. Witwicky, funny. And you don't know that Megan Fox is hiding in the closet, which makes this even more funny. I need another beer.
In-Head OBG: Damn. Megan Fox runs like a man. I wonder if she has that chromosome issue supermodels have? I'm still hungry. I need more popcorn, but I probably shouldn't eat two bags in one day. I should really go to the grocery store. I need another beer.
Out-Loud OBG: No!
In-Head OBG: Ugh. Not the skeletons. I hate Snood. Ugh. I have to beat my high score. I'm totally trying again after I grab another beer.
We now join OBG as she's driving down I-87. It's Saturday night and she is on her way to meet Pooh for dinner...
(Edited for Content)
In-Head OBG: I wonder if... nah. That would just be silly. But what if... no. I'm just being ridiculous. What is wrong with me. Stupid me.
Out-Loud OBG (while being cut off by BMW driver from New Jersey): What the fuck? Asshole!
In-Head OBG: Jerk-off. Why am I daydreaming like this? What is wrong with me? Oh my God! I totally am! I'm a romantic. Holy shit, have I always been one? I guess I have. How come I never realized this? I can't let anyone know. How embarrassing! I'm suppose to be anti-love. A love-hater. I'm doomed. Shit. I'm super early. Google directions suck.
During dinner...
Pooh (rambling on): My new goal is to lose 80 lbs. Now that grad school is over I can work on that...
In-Head OBG: 80 lbs.? That sounds like a lot.
Out-Loud OBG: 80 lbs., Pooh? Really?
Pooh: Yeah. Have you ever seen a picture of what I used to look like? You haven't, huh? Here, look (pulls out license)...
In-Head OBG: I should probably update the picture on my license. I'm not 17 anymore. I bet I don't look anything like my picture on my license anymore.
Pooh: See? This was four years ago. I was 21. I'm 25 now. See how skinny I was?
In-Head OBG: Wow. He was skinny. And really good-looking too. He could have been a model. Is this really Pooh? It's amazing how 80 lbs. can transform a person.
Out-Loud OBG: Wow, Pooh. You had spiky hair.
Pooh: I'm an emotional eater. Some people lose weight when they're stressed out...
In-Head OBG: Ooh. That's me.
Pooh: ...but I gain it because I just eat and eat. Now that we graduated, I'm going to lose weight.
Out-Loud OBG: I lose weight when I'm stressed.
In-Head OBG: Is he going to think I'm bragging? Or shallow? Or insensitive?
Out-Loud OBG: I eat when I'm happy. I used to be almost 40 lbs. heavier. Obviously I haven't been happy in awhile.
In-Head OBG: Whoa. I haven't been happy in awhile. I've been losing weight for five years. Five years! I haven't been happy for five years. I can't believe this. What a revelation. This is big stuff. I'm not sure what to do with this. This has got to be significant on a momentous level. This is not good... wait. What is Pooh talking about? Damn. I need another beer.

Next time on OBG...
... did OBG beat her Snood high score? Will she ever stop eating microwave popcorn? Will OBG crush the romantic in her before she even has a chance to embrace it? What kind of person would tell someone else that there is no place in life for romantic thoughts? Is this the kind of person OBG wants to be around? Will OBG ever change the photo on her license? (Editor's Note: Probably not. That sounds like a lot of work.) Will OBG ever be cured of her insomnia? And what will be the repercussions, if any, of OBG not talking to her father on Father's Day? Does OBG even care? How could OBG forget about Roxette?** And furthermore, how come we don't hear more about Jason Statham


Stay tuned for the next episode of OBG, where all of these questions will be answered. Or none of them. It could go either way. But hopefully it will be more exciting than this episode. One can only dream.

* Except in this episode, where all persons and events were taken from real life. More or less.
** Don't judge. You know you love 'em too.
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