THE FUTURE MRS. ANONYMOUS

iLike

2009-08-01T10:43:00.002-04:00

- the smell of freshly cut wood

- my mother's blintzes

- a really good poop

- looking for rainbows after a thunderstorm

- a movie that you expected to be just okay but ended up making you laugh so hard your shoulders hurt

- taking photographs of people

- embraces

- the way my bike rides immediately after I've pumped the tires

- the two lanterns I bought for our mini-deck

- changing my dinner order and not regretting it

- people "liking" my facebook status

- Tempur-pedic mattresses

- mail merging

- Wi-fi in my hotel room, not just the lobby

- well placed kisses

It's a Blessing and a Curse, but not really a Curse at all

2009-07-26T22:52:00.005-04:00

We met my parents in New Jersey this evening for some all you can eat chinese buffet. Around 7 pm, Mr. Anonymous suggested I call the Container Store to see if they were still open while we were waiting for my dad to pocket some of those Chinese cookies he loves (he typically wraps them up in napkins and shoves them in my pocketbook or coat pocket, depending on the season). I call and get Beth.

me: Hi Beth. What are your hours tonight?
Beth: Typically 11 am to 6 pm, but right now we have a College Night going on until 8:30.
me: What's a College Night?
Beth: We sent out invitations to students who are heading off to college to stock up on some dorm room essentials. The lines are long, but you could come if you have a college student.
me: Oh, I'm not a college student anymore.
Beth: But you could come if you have a college student.
me: Right, but I don't have a college student either.
Beth: Ok, but you can come anyway.
me: But I wasn't invited.
Beth: I'm inviting you NOW.

So the four of us head over and I walk up to the guy who is handing out name tags.

guy: What's your name?
me: Adina.
guy: (jots this down on my nametag) And what college are you heading to?
me: Oh, um, Boston University.
guy: (jots this down on my nametag as well) That's a far ways away!
me: Yeah. (pause, as he looks at me for a moment more) I guess I'm sort of nervous about being that far away from home. But I think it'll be a good experience.
guy: (giantly smiling at me) Don't worry honey. You'll do just fine.

And so began my hour long Lie Fest. One Container Store employee said her son was thinking about applying to BU.

me: Oh yeah?
employee: Yep. But he is only a junior. You're going into your freshman year, right?
me: Um, yeah. But I've been on campus. It looks nice.
employee: He is going to visit this fall.
me: I hear the winters are pretty cold. But how bad could it be?

What surprised me most wasn't that I passed for a college student but that people assumed I was heading into my FIRST YEAR of college. I was asked multiple times what I was going to major in. They didn't ask me what do I major in. It was always, What are you planning on majoring in, honey? English, I would respond with a shoulder shrug.

One employee asked me what high school I was from. Another employee asked me what other schools I had considered before choosing BU. Still another employee, I swear an 18 year old boy, made pseudo flirty eyes at me.

Part of me was a little indignant, as in, seriously? I know I look young but there is no way I look like I am 18. No way. But the bigger and better part in me was like (1) HELL YEAH I AM GOING TO AGE SO GRACEFULLY and (2) HELL YEAH I JUST GOT 20% OFF A SWEET LAUNDRY BAG HOLDER.

So, I am going to count this night as a success. Go Adina, you anti-aging beast.

Pleasure v. Pleasure

2009-07-23T22:05:00.006-04:00

I am not much of a consumer. I would much rather be consuming at a bar versus at a retail store. For instance, a while back I bought some great tween jeans at Kohls (don't judge, we've all been there). They were great except that apparently tweens have bigger waists than I do. How this is possible, who knows, but after I jumped up and down in pure ecstasy for fifteen hours, I decided that I would have to invest in my very first belt. Well that isn't exactly true. I've owned hand-me-down belts but never really wore them because why would I want to make my pants tight around my waist? I mean, I would just have to unbuckle them after each meal and that is a lot of unnecessary work.

Anyway, after 3 months of tugging at the tops of my jeans so they wouldn't fall down to my ankles mid-stride, I said to myself, I am buying a belt this week, no excuses. Cut to 3 months after that - I am in Target and I am searching for the cheapest most versatile belt I can find. And there it is: a $12 brown-on-one-side-black-on-the-other belt. I proceed to buy this belt and wear it every day for almost 4 months, maybe less, who knows. And then one day it just rips apart at notch number three. The nerve. I said my goodbyes and promised myself a new $12 belt in the near future.

This was like, I don't know, 5 MONTHS AGO. I have been to Target more than 3 times since then. I have allowed almost two full seasons to pass before I buy something that I desperately need in order not to look like I am smuggling seven pounds of cocaine sewn into the insides of my jeans. No wait who am I kidding smugglers know to invest in a freaking belt.

Hmm, I am way off topic. What was I talking about. I can talk for hours about nothing, but ask me to spend 5 minutes in the accessories department at a superstore and why don't you just ask me to skin myself with a vegetable peeler. No really, I am not interested in finding a necklace that matches that clutch I have which would look like so totally awesome with those shoes that I got from the I DON'T CARE store down on 18th and Chestnut.

Anyway, the whole point of this now very rambly post is that this anti-consumer attitude I have somehow inherited (not from my mother) has stymied our whole "furnish and decorate the house" plan. As in, I have lots of interest in furnishing the house so that it doesn't look like Iggy Pop's rec room BUT have no motivation to actually change out of my pajamas to go see what the inside of a Pottery Barn really looks like.

So I am looking for suggestions. Online shopping, offline bargain shopping, antique shops in the area. We need furniture and all that other shit that makes a house look pretty (what are they called, embellishments, details, hardware? traps?)

So far all I found was ecojot.com, a website for cute little recycled notebooks (I like the 5x7 dandelion journal and the 100% journal). Notebooks are sort of like embellishments? For like, the soul or something? Right?

Please. Help me. My life is just so hard.

And sorry for taking so long to get to the chase. I spent the last 6 hours consuming at a bar.

Whoops

2009-07-20T21:42:00.003-04:00

Yesterday we are leaving the shore when Mr. Anonymous suggests we cut across the high school field to get to 5th Street.

me: I don't think there is a gate opening to 5th.
mr. anon: So we'll just jump the fence.
me: What if the groundskeeper yells at us?
mr. anon: Then we'll just make a run for it.
me: dude, you can't run through a FENCE.

We get to 5th and sure enough, there is no exit. Just a 10 foot tall fence. Mr. Anonymous bounds over it in four quick movements. Jump, jump, leap, jump. I make my way up the fence more tentatively, only to get my shirt and pants snagged on the top in five different places.

me: I'm stuck!
mr. anon: Honey, you can't roll over the top of the fence.
me: NOW YOU TELL ME.

As I am stuck up there, two families walk by and point and giggle. In their defense, if I saw an asian stuck on the top of a ten foot fence, I would snicker too. But fuck them anyway and call the fire department you bitches.

The groundskeeper strolls up to us and looks at me nonchalantly.

groundskeeper: Whatcha doing up there?
me: I'm stuck.
mr. anon: Yeah, we thought we would take a shortcut.
groundskeeper: That's one hell of a shortcut.

He walks away as casually as he enters the scene, and I finally unsnag myself and make my way down the fence.

mr. anon: (laughing) Your vagina was totally hanging out of your pants the whole time.
me: Seriously?
mr. anon: From where I was standing, yeah, seriously.

And that is how I got stuck on the top of a high school field fence at 4 PM in Ocean City.

The end.

Good Talk

2009-07-15T14:33:00.003-04:00

me: i actually have no idea what women like
me: i am not women
Jon: no bat mitzvah?
me: nope

me: now i have a subpar job and drink a lot
me: if that isn't success, jon, i dont know what the hell is
Jon: not being dead on the inside?
me: hmm
me: that's an interesting definition of success
me: so are you not dead on the inside?
Jon: no I am

Welcome Home

2009-07-12T22:49:00.005-04:00

Mr. Anonymous and I had this annual tradition every time our lease was about to expire. He would say, "Let's go buy a house." And I would say, "That is a terrible idea." Then we would spend a few Sundays open-housing in our price range, aka two-story houses in neighborhoods where having a stray bullet graze your forehead was about as common as seeing a bicyclist getting hit by a car. By that I mean, fairly common.

Then Mr. Anonymous would spend 200 hours on Trulia and decide that home buying was not for us. We would resign our lease, and he would resign to living in our third floor berber-rugged poorly-constructed elbow-bumping 500 sq ft apartment (his words not mine). In other words, he would resign to hating life for another 365 days (again, his words not mine).

This past May, I buckled up my ballroom shoes and we stepped into the same song/dance routine we have shuffled along to for the past 3 years. Except this year, we added a few embellishments - a spin here, a promenade there, and a real estate agent named Jamie.

On our first day of looking at houses, I was home with a 102 degree fever. I dragged myself out of bed, washed the vomit out of my mouth, and met with Dan and Jamie across town. The second house we saw was a three-story plus basement. Two blocks east was a fantastic public school. Two blocks west were the best mozzarella balls in the city. It had four bedrooms, a reasonably sized backyard and a mini wooden balcony on the second floor. There were wall to wall green carpets and hilarious signs of DIY home renovation (5-inch loosely attached baseboards, insulation foam in every nook and cranny, ceilings that no one over 5 foot 3 can clear without doing a full fledged limbo walk).

We got half way through looking at the third house on our agenda when I sat down on the floor and said with fervor and fever, "That second house. That is the house. Let's buy that one. Now please take me home before I pee in my pants." Yes, this last statement was said partially out of excitement - because I was fairly certain we had just viewed the house we would one day buy and then fill with 2.5 kids - but it was also said partially because I was about to lose control of my bladder. I was really, really sick.

Fast forward to 6 weeks later. I have regained control of my bodily functions, we have gone through a successful (albeit slightly grueling) home inspection, and we were writing a check for more money than I thought I would ever have, let alone have and then decide to give away. I am sitting there with these folks who make these types of transactions every day and in my head I am screaming "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING SELLING A HOUSE TO ME?? I BLOG ABOUT FARTING AND POOPING AND I BARELY LOOK OLD ENOUGH FOR R-RATED MOVIES AND SERIOUSLY? HAVE YOU READ MY BLOG??"

But in the end, the silent screaming delayed nothing and we walked away with keys to the house that one day would be the house of our dreams, as soon as we removed the wall-to-wall mirrors and forest green carpet. Ok, we skipped a little. But just a little and it was mostly Mr. Anonymous.

We have been "moved in" now for well over a month, and I am not going to lie - the place is a shit show. The phrase "living like refugees" is used at least twice a day in light-hearted conversations. Mr. Anonymous and I take turns feeling overwhelmed by the amount of junk that we (I) have acquired over 5 plus years of cohabitation. He spends his four free minutes a day thinking of new ways to knock out all of the nonload-bearing walls to create bathrooms and/or utility closets. I, in turn, am constantly looking for a bottle opener.

But the other night, my great aunts and uncles (minus Aunt Dot) came over for their first walk through of our new house. Their age ranges from 75 to 87 years of age and their temperaments range from mild to extra spicy. We had an amazing spaghetti/meatball family dinner at Jerry & Alia's and then made our collective way over to the house.

There is just no way to describe having six bubbies and zeydas in your house. The air immediately fills with love and matzoh meal. My Aunt Barb gave me one of my grandfather's paintings of a rabbi and I accidentally placed it upside down in the kitchen. She laughs, "Oy the rehba is upside down! All of the blood is rushing to the rehba's head!" When Mr. Anonymous showed my Uncle Dave the second floor balcony, he says, "Well this is great to have! In case you can't make it to the bathroom in time!"

Up until this point, I had been privately lamenting how I would not be sharing our new house with my own grandparents. I could not imagine taking this big step in my life without them there beside me, filling my shoes with silver dollars and big dreams. I have very vivid memories of their home in the Northeast - the oven (always warm from cooking), the cookie jar (filled with my favorite cookies every Sunday), my grandmother's perfume (I could still smell it in her closet a few days after she died), my grandfather sitting proudly in his chair (spreading advice and care to all who would receive it). Whether I was lounging at my grandfather's feet or in the kitchen futzing with the black and white plastic kitchen tablecloth, there was always a sense of home. Nothing fancy, no big expectations. Just good old fashioned happy home. I wanted to show them that, Look! Look, I got it! I got what you were trying to teach me! Make a happy home! And I did! I made it! Look! Please, look!

This all flooded back to me as everyone reached the third floor. All of my great aunts and uncles stood in our (disaster of a) master bedroom and one by one hugged me and kissed me and wished us luck. Lots of mazels, lots of smeared lipstick on my cheeks, lots and lots of love. And as I fell into their soft embraces and willingly succumbed to their smooches, I realized that, while I did not get to share this directly with my grandparents, I was sharing it by proxy. This evening, I got to have six grandparents beaming at me and saying, Yes, yes we see, we see you heard all that your grandparents were saying to you. Yes, You have done a good job here. They would be proud. They would be so proud.

And it was at that moment - surrounded by my family, my on-loan grandparents - that this very green messy house became a home, our home.

Perspective

2009-07-09T00:05:00.002-04:00

mr. anon: What was your high of the day?
me: Mmm, I don't know. I guess when we were hanging out just now.
mr. anon: What was the low? Was it when I got home late tonight?
me: Um, no. It was my root canal.

Game Plan

2009-07-06T21:35:00.002-04:00

So I am trying to think of a game plan to get back in the swing of blogging. At first I kept on thinking, Make a list. You know you want a make a list. ALL THE OTHER BLOGGERS ARE DOING IT.

But then I had a brief flashback to all the unfulfilled promises I have made to the internet to recount all the fun times I had but did not include it in. Then I felt like a jerk. Then I remembered I was sort of a jerk and started writing a list that I could eventually never post.

But in the end, I decided to just take my time and casually fill in the blanks that were my June. For most Adina months, this would be such a project, but June was sort of a big deal. Back in May, the thought of writing about it - or about anything - was so overwhelming that I spent a lot of time with my head shoved in between my knees. This is a lot of time for a married woman to spend looking at her crotch and in hindsight, this did not really help the situation much.

I am feeling better now - you know, less like an ostrich with a vagina fetish - and am ready to start talking again. I understand some of you might have felt a bit abandoned, and to that I say: Uh, seriously? I'm adopted. You can't play that card with me.

I am glad to be back.

Reading

2009-07-05T02:40:00.003-04:00

I know I like a book when I get the sudden urge to take it in my arms and hug it against my chest. It is like a jerk reaction - I will finish a chapter and it will feel like I just met the man I will one day marry. I will squeeze the book tight for a brief second, and then leave it on the night stand to miss me for a day or two.

I started The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing yesterday afternoon. I picked it up a few months ago for 2 bucks at a giant used book sale in Fort Washington because the girl on the cover was wearing rain boots. I love rain boots.

I just finished it tonight, in 36 hours (during which time I also ate all the ice cream, burgers, hot dogs, kugel, burritos, basmati rice, and flan I could eat). Then I crushed it into my bosom - the way Jewish women hug their grandsons - and just sat there. For ten minutes. Ten minutes, sitting there, with a book squeezed in between my breasts. At one point I flopped back first on to the mattress, but never did that book stop touching me in a way teenage girls hope a Jonas brother will one day touch them.

This is a book you take home to your mother, and say Look Mom I finally found what I thought one day we would have, you know when we are older and both adults. This is a book you keep in your purse, on your person, at all times. This is your best friend who speaks better than you, is smarter and funnier than you, who insists she knows nothing and yet you can't help wanting to be just like her. This is what it would feel like to meet a girl and realize that you would leave heterosexuality for this woman only so she could break your heart, only so you could feel what it feels like to be loved by her.

Yeah. I know. That is some serious shit right there.

In conclusion, read this book. and then keep it on you at all times. Because I wasn't joking about that part.

And oh yeah, I am back to blogging. Hiya.

Auf Wiedersehen, Good Night

2009-05-27T21:12:00.004-04:00

I realize I have let this blog slip. The fact is, I think I might be outgrowing blogging. Twittering/facebooking has allowed me to compose my little digs/quips that I live for, which leaves only heavier duty (heavy dutier?) material that I think I need to release in non-blog form. This might sound very un-Adina, but I'd like to maybe do more soul searching, indulge my attention-hording, self-indulgent side a little less, maybe even learn a bit more about myself, beyond the fact that I'm Jewish and asian, ta da. Plus, my carefully crafted noodle-poop-fart routine has gotten a bit stale. I think it is high time to add a bit of marinara and spice it up in to a bigger, far less healthy version of my noodle-poop-fart routine.

Dream big, girlfriend.

I have been blogging for years, even before it was called blogging. I used to post in "dreambook" and friends would leave me adorable messages and I would incessantly check it for comments. Oh if I only knew foreshadowing when it was staring me right in the face. I have documented a lot of big changes over the years - my first job, my first therapist, my first marriage, and now my first home. I have taken a thousand steps forward and three times as many steps backwards, but somehow I am still here, as awkward and offensive as ever. These blogs expose a person who I am not sure if I even truly know, but who I am learning to love.

So with that, I am taking a much needed blog break. If I start up again, it may be in a completely different form. And it may be a post about farting. I am not sure. But I am going to take until July 1st to make a decision. If you'd like to follow me in the future, please shoot me an email at craziiasian at gmail dot com and I will notify you of any writing developments in non-mass-mailing-type emails (although the subject line will say SATISFIE YER WOMAN WTH A BIGGERR PENIS.

I am so grateful for all the love and support from my readership over the years. I am not going to lie and say I couldn't have done it without you. I could have. It just would have been unsatisfying and shortlived. I doubt any blogger can truly express what a freaking thrill it is to have people root for you, some of which have never even met you before. It is a scary place, the internet, and my readers have made it a place where I can hold my head up high and say "I am a subpar blogger."

Thank you for that and for everything.

love, adina

Compatibility Report

2009-05-24T23:10:00.001-04:00

(11:10 PM on a Sunday)

me: I'm hungry.
mr anon: Eat some ramen.

May Days

2009-05-21T08:51:00.003-04:00

This month has been and continues to be a big fat awesome month. I turned 27, and received the appropriate amount of Seagram's 7. Logan and Simon actually duct taped the whiskey to a liter of Seven Up and Easy Mac. It was like, Adina all wrapped up into one neat little duct taped package. Mr. Anonymous threw me a karaoke party where we managed to cram 30 of my friends into a 20-person karaoke room and Barbara almost danced to Saturday Night (Bay City Rollers) in front of all of them. We had our first Burger of the Month club meeting at Five Guys, after which Joe B immediately bought a Frosty to get that "f--ing burger taste out of my mouth" (his words, not mine). Tonight is our first softball game of the season. Saturday I help Mandy move into her new Chinatown apartment (with her boyfriend, ack!) and then hit a housewarming for Ben at HB's. And then...wait for it...DIRECTLY TO THE BEACH FOR TWO DAYS OF DOING NOTHING BUT LOOKING HOT IN MY BATHING SUIT. Oh god I think my heart just exploded.

I heart the month of May.

Housekeeping

2009-05-17T23:21:00.002-04:00

I have no idea why all my posts have "read more" on the bottom but there isn't anything to read. Typically I only use this html if I am hiding more post behind a cut, but I haven't had more than like 2 and 1/2 paragraphs of noteworthy things to say recently, so who knows.

Anyway, the point is. There is nothing more to read. Sad but true.

You probably think this post is about you

2009-05-13T23:39:00.005-04:00

This is super super vain but it is 10 minutes until my birthday so who the hell cares. I am trying to choose between two photos for my facebook profile pic. I KNOW MY LIFE IS SO HARD. AND ALSO INTERESTING BECAUSE SERIOUSLY AM I REALLY BLOGGING ABOUT THIS. AND NOW I CAN'T STOP WRITING IN CAPS. AWESOME. ANYWAY.

Anyway.

Here is a photo where I am dancing with my husband:

And here is a photo Barbara took of Alisa painting my toenails hot tamale red (nail polish courtesy of Barbara, I wanted to pay due props). We are on the floor behind her desk in our office:

I love both for different reasons. The first one I love because we are dancing! And we love to dance! And the second one just makes me chuckle. Because I swear to god I work really really hard almost all the time. Except when Alisa is doing something girly to me. Like braiding my hair WHAT DID YOU THINK SHE DID TO ME YOU DIRTY DIRTY THING

So anyway, vote and then pat yourself on the back for not being so utterly self involved as I am.

poll by twiigs.com

I think that is the New Testament though

2009-05-12T16:00:00.002-04:00

(After eating Turkish food)
me: My stomach hurts every time I eat lamb. I think it is because God is smiting me for eating baby sheep.
mr. anon: No, I don't think that's it. Because in the Bible, it is always "something good happened, and then everyone ate lamb."

Unfried

2009-05-12T12:26:00.002-04:00

Has anyone else seen the KFC website recently? You should go see it. It is totally worth your while.

http://www.unthinkfc.com/

Happy Mother's Day

2009-05-10T22:21:00.002-04:00

To all the baby mama's out there, thanks for everything.

Cheek to Cheek

2009-05-07T23:32:00.004-04:00

I like contact. Physical contact. I like when my bare arm brushes against someone else's bare arm. I like sliding into home plate and colliding with the catcher. I like when mr. anon and I touch foreheads, touch toes, touch each other's butts lightly as we scootch pass each other in the kitchen.

I like to hold hands with my dad. I like it when Amayah reaches out to give me a hug, her tiny little arms wrapped around my neck. I like it when someone laughs so hard that they have to place a hand on my shoulder to steady themselves.

I realize contact makes some people uncomfortable - that they have no interest in touching, that they like their own space. I know many such people, and I respect that this is how they feel about contact. But I will personally never understand it. I can't imagine life without goosebumps from a gentle touch, a hand on my cheek, a hug that melts all my anger away. It is just another reminder that we are here, we are living and real and we are touching each other and we are in this together.

I just, I like contact.

All I had to do was click my heels three times

2009-05-05T00:21:00.005-04:00

On Saturday, Joe B, Adam, and went over to Himmelberger's to help him cut down the trees in the back yard. When we arrived at HB's Brewerytown home, I started wondering how many trees he needed us to cut down. 10? 12? And then I stepped into the back and realized he had four midsized trees. A tree for each of us! This will take ten minutes and then I will drink something cold, like whiskey!

I was wrong. Cutting down four midsized trees requires pulley systems and pruners and keeping an asian on the roof. Well good thing they had an asian on hand!

I got to use the chainsaw to cut up one of the trees. That was invigorating, also terrifying. I am just really attached to my legs (ba dum bum). Afterwards, we watched a bunch of B movies, where the "B" actually stands for boobs (Beerfest, Eurotrip, and Harold and Kumar go to White Castle). Things I learned while watching these movies: My boobs will never again be that perky. In fact, I don't think they were ever that perky. Which makes me think that my dream to become a boob stunt double in one of those movies will never come to fruition. Sad.

Anyway, once we started watching Harold and Kumar, we decided to do the thing that everyone swears they will stop doing once they hit their mid-twenties. We decided to drive to New Jersey for White Castle.

Oh, Adina. You are turning 27 in 9 days. Seriously?

Yes, seriously. We drove an hour and ten minutes to Howell, New Jersey, where I watched Joe B order the Crave Caseand then proceed to eat almost twenty of them all on his own. Then I sat through another 20 or so minutes of him being thoroughly convinced that he was going to crap his pants in the backseat. And me in bitch with nowhere to go.

Joe B: I should have pooped at White Castle. (Very pregnant pause) Huh. I never thought I'd say that sentence.

After White Castle, we drove to Neptune and I fully submerged my body in the ocean for the first time in 2009. That sounds so romantic but mostly it just made my crotch ache. Even penisless crotches ache people. Don't be deceived - May might sound like a nice warm month, but she is a cold cold bitch and she will cut you.

We drove home, shivering but happy. I brought two tiny cheeseburgers home for Mr. Anonymous, more as a gesture of love than a late night snack. But late night snack he did, my husband, my hero.

And thus ended my first Saturday night in May, my soul mate of a month. In the end, bitches always stick together.

Friday Night and the Feeling's Right

2009-05-01T23:18:00.002-04:00

mr. anon: When I was a kid, i didn't mind going to the dentist.
me: hahaha
mr. anon: ...I appreciated a good cleaning!
me: hahaha
mr. anon: Well, I mean, when I was an orphan we didn't have access to good dental hygiene.
me: did you just play the orphan card?

In other news, we had our home inspection today. It went the way I expected it to go: the inspector grumbled a lot, mr. anon looked like he was going to vomit, and I ate a cookie. Not to say I haven't had my fair share of freak outs. Why, just this past Saturday I was curled up in a ball hyperventilating and breathing into a paper bag that still had a a chocolate chip cookie in it (our realtor is really big into Fourth Street cookies).

We have a few more appointments in our immediate future, but considering the work that needs to be done before our settlement date, we will probably be going back to the seller with a counter offer early next week. This is all very exciting but also nauseating. I can't even imagine owning a home. I have a hard time committing to buying t-shirts online.
I think I might blog more about it sometime next week when I have more time, but let me just say that OH HOLY HELL WE ARE VERY LIKELY GOING TO BE HOMEOWNERS.

And to think, just this past month I definitely pooped a little in my pants. Being an adult is hilarious.

Still eating noodles, no worries

2009-04-29T12:45:00.003-04:00

There are a few major changes in my diet that I thought I should share with the blogosphere. Because despite all good advice, you really do seem interested in what I ate for lunch.

Fresh Tomatoes: My grandpop grew tomatoes on the little stretch of green up along the walkway of his Northeast rowhome. Mr. Anonymous and I plan to leave a bit of green space in the back of our new home (!) to grow some of our own tomatoes, a mini homage to my late great grandfather. Lately, I've been stopping my the grocery store in the morning and picking up a giant red tomato to eat as my breakfast. There is nothing like sinking your teeth into a juicy ripe tomato before you check your work email. Mmmmm.

Bananas: I spent most of my life thinking I was allergic to bananas. Turns out, I just never liked the texture. And I am older and wiser now and can truly appreciate the lack of chewing that goes into banana-eating. I am trying to average a banana a day, usually on my way to work so that I can strategically place the peel somewhere hilarious.

Potato Chips: Not healthy, but I can't stop eating Lays potato chips. It is possibly the only true junk food staple that I can't resist. Lately I have been dipping them in lactose-free ice cream or covering them with thinly sliced provolone. The crunch, the salt, everything about them makes me delirious. It is like good sex but without the awkward phone conversations afterwards.

Honey Roasted Turkey Breast, Sliced: No bread, just sliced from the deli straight into my mouth. Like my cheese, I prefer my meat very very thinly sliced (that is definitely what she said) so that it just melts in your mouth. The honey zing is just a little bonus, a little kiss of sweet to an otherwise dry snack. I used to tease my sister for eating deli meat straight of the bag but now you can see me walking out of the store with my purse and a piece of turkey hanging from my lips. Oh how the tables have turned.

I am trying to be a bit more conscious of the crap I put into my body, so I am limiting the amount of Pasta Roni, Ramen, and frozen meals I am eating. Of course, the remnants of a Lean Cuisine are currently staring at me from my desk, but I guess like all good things, it is a labor of love.

Here's to non-crappy eating!

Morning commute

2009-04-28T11:05:00.002-04:00

She was probably 6, maybe 7? She had pretty blond hair under her helmet, a bright pink t-shirt and a big blue skirt that puffed out when the wind would gust around her. She wore her beige socks almost up to her little knees.

She rode her half of the tandem standing up and not pedaling. Now and then she would lean to the left and her father would have to adjust his balance accordingly. I never did see the father's face, although now and then he'd say something to the girl that would throw her into a tizzy of giggles.

I rode behind the pair all the way to Walnut, where I turned to cross the bridge. They just kept on going, maybe to Trader Joe's or to the Art Museum or maybe even further.

It was the perfect morning commute.

Almost went to the hospital because I thought my brain was going to melt

2009-04-23T09:09:00.008-04:00

Many "first" moments in my life have been marked by the flu and/or extreme fever.

1. When I first laid eyes on my future husband.
2. When we first came down to Philly to pick our starter neighborhood and I realized that this was going to be our home.
3. My first bachelorette party of one of my oldest dearest friends.
4. When I first laid eyes on the first house we want to buy.
5. NO READ #4 AGAIN. IT WASN'T THE COMEDIC HOOK BUT IT IS STILL PRETTY SIGNIFICANT.

For the past two days, I have had a fever, with it mostly hovering around 102.4° but at its fiercest was at 102.6°. I couldn't watch tv without getting exhausted. I couldn't go to the bathroom without getting exhausted. I couldn't even blink without getting exhausted. I could, however, sleep for 30 hours at a time without even flinching. Even in sickness, I strive to be the champ of something.

However, despite spending 48 hours looking like someone dumped a bucket of sweat on me, this did not keep me and my husband from finding a home we love. Yes, I was delirious when I saw it. Yes, I was delirious when I signed all the papers. Yes, I was in my pajamas the whole time, and yes, I had to lay down mid-meeting from sheer contract-signing exhaustion.

But in the end, it was worth it. And in about 2 hours, our offer will be placed and then all we have is a prayer and a gallon of apple juice to get us through the rest of the day. Well, that is all I have. Mr. Anonymous has like 42,000 documents to review that I am sure will keep him busy.

Right now, I am eating potato chips and considering showering. So already, it is a 1,000 times better day than yesterday. I am using my jacket as my napkin! Here's to a potentially good day!

Holiday Wrap Up

2009-04-20T09:31:00.002-04:00

Mr. Anonymous: Remember when your cousin Paula compared her grandson to Moses?

In other news, we chose a realtor. She has an eyebrow ring. I used the word "pumped" when asking her to be our agent. I have been mocked repeatedly by my husband for this.

I can tell that Passover has weakened me because this meal actually looks appetizing

2009-04-15T15:14:00.004-04:00

My review of Lean Cuisine's Spaghetti and Meatballs seems like an appropriate review of mine to feature on HeatEatReview.com today, considering I will be eating like seventeen plate of Spaghetti and Meatballs tonight at Buca di Beppo to break the fast.

Happy Crappy Eating!

mid-week in review

2009-04-14T13:49:00.003-04:00

Wed: I get hit by a bus on my bike. Whoops.

Thurs: Ow, my abs hurt. Could it be from my accident? Oh wait no it is from my ab workout Tuesday. I spill red wine on my cousin's neighbor, Elmer. An hour later, my uncle spills red wine on Elmer's wife. Welcome to the family, grab a bib.

Fri: We have a sleepover with Char and Mike, sans footsie pajamas. They make us a kosher meal. It is heavenly. We play Tetris Party until 4 AM. Mr. Anonymous tries to sucker me into believing that Francis Cappola wine is kosher. I am a sucker. What, there are some Italian Jews still out there!

Sat: Helloooo, the Sound of Music!

Sun: Helloooo, Thelma and Louise! And oh! the Sound of Music again! (what?)

Mon: I put in an application to HGTV to feature us on "My First Place". It might have said things like "awkwardly charming" and "spontaneous dancing". I pass my CIP exam. I am Mrs. Anonymous, CIP. Bitch will cut you!

Tues: I miss noodles. I invite 40+ people to Buca di Beppo to break the fast with me tomorrow night. I make appointments with prospective realtors. BRING ON THE ADULTHOOD.

The Master

2009-04-09T10:33:00.002-04:00

I am watching Lost with my great-uncle Herbie while the gefilte fish is cooking. I am a little self conscious that I am very squirmy next to Herbie, who is dead still.

me: I am sort of an antsy sitter, sorry.
Herbie: It doesn' bother me, but I did notice that. You have to learn how to relax.
me: yeah?
Herbie: Oh yeah. I learned how to, it took me years, but I know how to now.

(a little bit later) me: So...how do you relax?
Herbie: It took me a long time to figure it out.
me: Right...but how do you do it?
Herbie: (silence)
me: Herbie? (nudge) Uncle Herbie? DID YOU JUST DOZE OFF?

He totally dozed off while I was asking him how to relax. Now that is a sign of a truly relaxed man.

Status Update

2009-04-07T12:00:00.001-04:00

I realize my last couple of posts have alternated between mr. anonymous one liners and food coma talk. In case you are single and skinny, here is a topic that applies to us all, even my Great Uncle Herbie.

STATUS UPDATES ON FACEBOOK.

Almost a year ago, I signed up for twitter. I was unconvinced -- great, another place where I have to be funny and unassuming. But now I have to do it in under 140 characters! Eventually, however, I was charmed. I found the exercise of succinct expression to be a pleasant challenge and appreciated an outlet where I could be like I POOPED AND IT WAS GREAT and not feel embarrassed that I took up yet another corner of the world wide web with a story about my bowel movements.

But then facebook released their vamped up status updating and I have to say, it is sort of hot. It is like the best friend's younger sister that used to be a tomboy but now is this extremely hot chick whose homepage is ESPN.com. Now, whenever something funny happens (I accidentally stick a jalapeno up my nose, I think about hot waxing my eyebrows, I exercise), I find myself in this posting limbo.

Is this blogworthy? Or should I just tweet it from my phone? Or do I want people to be able to comment on it, in which case it should be facebooked...unless I think it could withhold the test of time, making it a contender for a gchat status rotation spot...

This ongoing inner monologue would be fine if it was about something relevant/significant. BUT IT IS ABOUT UPDATING MY LIFE STATUS. Do you people know what I do on most days? Here is a breakdown:

8:00 AM: I wake up.
9:00 AM: Just kidding, now I wake up.
9:30 AM - 8:00 PM: I work, eat lunch/cake, and then go to the gym/bar/home. When I eventually get home, I watch Jeopardy and Seinfeld reruns until Mr. Anonymous comes home. Sometimes (all the time) I eat noodles.
8:00 PM - 10:00 PM: Mr. Anonymous comes home. We crack each other's backs, eat dinner, play pokemon, and watch TLC/HGTV.
10:00 - 1:00 AM: He works while I tend to miscellaneous business. Then we go to bed. Sometimes he grabs my boob before we fall asleep, but only sometimes.

My life is not really that fascinating. I blog because I like to write, and it keeps my non-verbal voice fresh. I facebook because I like to pseudo-stalk ex-boyfriends sometimes. I tweet because Shaquille O'Neal does it. And I gchat because sometimes, you have a story for your office mates that just should not be told out loud.

But now I feel all torn and over-stated. I never find time to really blog anymore, and on the rare occasions that I do blog, I struggle to say anything meaningful. Forget about exploring other writing opportunities. I can barely keep up to date on the baby of that girl I sort of was friendly with in middle school.

We met this really cool couple this weekend, Deb and Matt, and Matt is a journalist for the Inquirer. All night, I wanted to be like, "I'm a writer." But I knew it wasn't true. I'm a facebooker, a blogger, a tweeter. And maybe at one point in my life, I could have said that. But not anymore. Right now, I am not a writer. And that is my own fault.

It's time to make some changes.

I think he secretly likes being in the blog spotlight

2009-04-06T22:14:00.004-04:00

mr. anon: I think I reinjured my arm...
me: You mean your roller skating arm injury?
mr. anon: yeah, while shadowboxing.
me: You were shadowboxing?
mr. anon: yeah.
me: (pause and stare) I'm starting to think you actually like it when I blog about you.

I think I might be a little bit of a superhero

2009-04-05T13:09:00.002-04:00

There is a chance that I just ate old cream sauce. And moldy parmesan cheese. and used a spoon that had a layer of Mylanta crust on it that I did not notice.

the Fates: 0. my stomach of steel: 1.

It is sort of like how my mom calls it "smoking the marijuana". aka, they both have no idea what they are talking about.

2009-04-04T12:38:00.005-04:00

me: Oh boy, there are pictures of Jayne kissing the oven. That is a disaster waiting to happen.
mr. anon: smoking weed?
me: what?
mr. anon: What are you talking about?
me: Little baby Jayne is kissing the oven.
mr. anon: I thought you were talking about our adult friend Jane and "kissing the oven" was another term for smoking marijuana that I just didn't know.

Day 2: it only gets more disturbing

2009-04-01T22:22:00.002-04:00

What I ate today before 5 PM
- bagel with cream cheese
- italian wedding soup
- some pocky sticks

what I ate today after 5 PM
- the rest of the tuna helper, cold
- two slices of domino's pizza
- asian ramen
- one baked breaded chicken leg
- small bowl of spaghetti

If I could just eat like a normal human being after work, I think I could definitely be America's Next Top Model. Or at least a size smaller. Stupid early evening hunger.

oh. maybe that's why I poop 5 times a day.

2009-04-01T02:13:00.004-04:00

What I ate today
- asian cracker snackies
- cambell's select harvest italian wedding soup
- potato chips
- chocolate cake (just a few handfuls)
- one of those tiny nestle crunch chocolate eggs
- pretzel bites dipped in nacho cheese
- pretzel bites dipped in chocolate
- more potato chips
- cold tuna helper (at 2 AM)

A quick question for housekeeping purposes...maybe tomorrow I'll have a poll on how much pizza you consume in a week (about 2 large pies)

2009-03-31T09:00:00.000-04:00

poll by twiigs.com

Catching up

2009-03-29T21:20:00.007-04:00

I spent the last couple of hours catching up on on my favorite blogs. Here are some highlights:

From xkcd.com:

It might make me a bad person, but this post made me laugh
at the futility of it all

And these two posts from indexed.com:

I'm not going to lie, I think this is a Ven diagram of my life

part of me wishes I didn't know how true this was

My Homing Device

2009-03-25T22:46:00.005-04:00

So, we are thinking about buying a home. I won't go into much detail because there's a really good chance all this serious talking will dissipate into a "let's cuddle instead" conversation. However, if all goes according to plan, we will be proud owners of yet another place that I will fail to decorate with color or furnish with non-Ikea furniture.

Per discussions with Mr. Anonymous, he thought I might benefit most from reading Home Buying for Dummies. Because there is nothing in this world that I like more than reading a book that talks down to me. Wait...so, are you saying that, even if I am approved to borrow $700k for a new home, I shouldn't actually spend that much? And are you going to say this same thing over and over to me for the next 10 pages? And then are you going to check and double check in subsequent chapters that I get it? Oh okay, good, thank god, because I love it when my personal life is micromanaged BY A BOOK.

With that lovely and open-minded attitude, I moved over to internet reading. Mr. Anonymous suggested reading About.com because "they have some pretty helpful articles." Okay, great! So I am reading these articles right now. And so far, I have learned A LOT. Like:

1. The second best day to buy a house is Easter. Ok. But why? GOOD QUESTION. About.com hints that it is because everyone else is at church, but never really goes into more depth on the subject (probably because encouraging you to capitalize on a day that you should be at church celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ is bad form). They do, however, give some helpful information on Easter itself - for example "It is the first Sunday after the ecclesiastical moon after the vernal equinox" and "The vernal equinox falls on March 20th or 21st, depending on the year." Thanks About.com!

2. According to About.com studies, "your memory dramatically improves after consumption of carbs and slows upon consuming sugar." Therefore, they advise you to "layoff the soft drinks and have a hearty meal of carbs before venturing out to tour homes." Wow. Just, wow. Could there be better advice out there? I mean, that is my advice NO MATTER WHAT THE SITUATION. Nervous? Eat noodles! Constipated? Eat noodles! Addicted to meth? EAT THE NOODLES AND EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE!

3. How to utilize every literary device I know to say: lots of people buy and sell in the spring. Here is a perfect example!

"Every spring, as tulips struggle to poke through melting snow in the North and rosebuds cautiously open in Southern climes, sure as tootin' real estate signs begin multiplying like bunnies across the country. Soon as the For Sale signs are mounted on the posts, swarms of activity buzz in the streets as sellers, buyers and real estate agents crawl out from wherever they hibernated for the winter to welcome the spring sales season."

This is hard for me to criticize because Lord knows she's trying. You can see her little English minor brain being like "how can I make this real? I mean, how can I make people really feel how real it really is?" But, and I know this is stating the obvious so really I don't need the caps but at this point I can't resist: COME ON. Just tell me how much money I need to buy a home right now. Tell me where I should look to find houses that fit us. Tell me how I should go about choosing a realtor. Tell me something that I can write on the palm of my hand and refer to when I am signing the freaking contract. Just tell me something and please, PLEASE DON'T USE "TOOTIN'" WHEN SAYING IT.

Oh yeah. This is going to be cake.

wow, who knew his heart was made of stone

2009-03-24T22:43:00.004-04:00

me: did you hear sylvia plath's son committed suicide?
mr. anon: (chuckles)
me: ...
mr. anon: wow. that was insensitive... so, doesn't that run in the family?

I also really drink seven and seven's THAT much

2009-03-24T21:48:00.002-04:00

alisa: wow. you really DO have a lot of noodles in your cabinets.
adina: yeah...I don't know why people think I'm joking about that.

that is a big "except" honey

2009-03-21T10:21:00.001-04:00

mr. anon: I haven't eaten meat for almost two full days...well, except for the beef jerky.

But Kohl's was having a mega sale!

2009-03-19T22:14:00.002-04:00

Gift giving is not really something my family has perfected. Not in a bad way, just in a way that you're like, ohhhhh that explains so much about you, adina.

For instance, a few months ago my mom mentioned that she still owes me a birthday present. How she remembers what gifts she does and does not owe me eludes me since, at any time of year, I will find a pretty pair of craft earrings wrapped in tissue paper mixed in with the bag of coupons and articles about baby rearing. My mother might be a nutcase, but she is a really very thoughtful nutcase.

As a mini-experiment, I gave my mom a title of a CD I really wanted but probably would never buy for myself because - let's face it - I hear most of it on Pandora at least once a day. Plus, I get to burn tons of music from my coworkers, who are ten times more musically inclined than I am. Plus, I am cheap. There, I said it.

I am not sure if I have ever done this before, suggested a gift for myself to my parents. And not because my mom hasn't asked me what I would like. There is just not really anything I need and I figure it is more fun to find the perfect gift versus spending five minutes on Amazon clicking purchase buttons. In the end, my mom is more of a "from the heart" shopper than a "just give them what they could buy for themselves" shopper. I like that about her. It also drives me a little crazy. Because she shows up at my apartment a few weekends ago with three Kohl's bags filled with sale sweaters that only button at the neck.

mom: I bought you some sweaters for your birthday.
me: wait, didn't I give you a title of a yo yo ma CD I want?
mom: yeah...but your father hasn't had a chance to go to Border's.
me: But Border's is around the corner...and is closer to your house than Kohl's is.
mom: Just try on the damn sweaters Adina.

Oh mom. I love you. You make me laugh.

Questions, in preparation for Passover

2009-03-17T20:42:00.004-04:00

Q: Why does my husband love Heroes so much? aka, how did I marry a man who loves Heroes so much?

Q: Why do I get bumps on my tongue? Then why do I chew on them until they hurt more and never heal?

Q: Why do I continue to eat cheese when it gives me diarrhea? Even when I take lactose pills?

Q: Why, at any given time, are there bras and/or socks on our kitchen table?

Q: Why do I feel like I spend all my time online updating my status? I seriously do very little, and yet according to seven different online sources, I am so busy that I never sleep and only eat when I see something covered in bread crumbs.

Q: Why do my hands get so chapped when cold?

Q: Why did I spend my entire life thinking I was allergic to bananas?

Q: Why do people still buy Dell computers? Or maybe the question is, who still buys Dell computers? Also, what ever happened to that "Dude where's my Dell" guy? Also, why is Ashton Kutcher allowed to make movies?

Q: When is it going to be summertime?

Who's on First in Tagalog

2009-03-16T09:15:00.001-04:00

me: Mr. N, the tita up there, what is her name?
Mr. N: Tita means aunt in Tagalog.
me: Right. So what is her name?
Mr. N: Ditta.
me: (thinking he said tita) No, I mean, what is tita's name?
Mr. N: Tita means aunt.
me: ...Ok. But what is her name?
Mr. N: Ditta.
me: her name is aunt?
Mr. N: yes.

all signs point to good times

2009-03-15T15:28:00.003-04:00

17 sage buttered ravioli + gold lamé shoes and clutch + EOB playing air guitar on his knees + stylishly disheveled filipino teenagers, ready to pounce/break dance + ALL THE SINGLE LADIES = rosy and chuckles, hitched.

quick update, filipino style

2009-03-14T09:05:00.002-04:00

rosy's mom, introducing me to family: This is Adina. She puts Kikkoman on her rice.

BRING ON THE MARRYING.

checking in

2009-03-10T23:09:00.002-04:00

Our cable has been out for the past couple of days, which means no internet and no reruns of seinfeld on tbs. as a result, I have done lots of reading. Then I discovered an unprotected linksys and what am I doing now? Updating my sad sack of a blog and also getting a little drowsy. One chapter left of "The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" and I am starting boggle games with friends of friends of friends. Oh adina.

I can't promise better blogging until after April 20th, when I take a four hour exam to get a work certification. But when that day comes, I will post about my trip to Las Vegas, my mini-vacay at Margate, and the time when Rosy bit the dust and got herself hitched.

Until then, grab a flask and enjoy the weather. By getting drunk and falling asleep in the park. love!

Bread winner (hyuck hyuck hyuck)

2009-03-03T15:13:00.003-05:00

I am going to get around to posting about this weekend, but first I wanted to share this little glimpse into my life with you.

A few days ago, I had a sudden urge to have an egg-in-toast. I grew up on these - cut a hole out of bread with a shot glass, crack an egg in it, fry and eat, be happy. Who knew shot glasses had other ways of bringing joy into people's lives besides lowering pretty girls' inhibitions?

Anyway, I wasn't even sure if we had eggs...or bread (what). So when I saw we had both, I was pleasantly surprised/grateful I had a husband that food shopped for food stuffs other than noodles. But then I noticed that this wasn't any type of bread. This was no-flour, organic, high-protein, sprouted wheat berry bread.

Whenever I say that out loud, I can't get through it without laughing at the absurdity that THAT bread is in MY house.

No flour. Organic. High-Protein. Sprouted Wheat Berry.

FIRST OF ALL. Everything I eat has flour in it. I am Jewish. How else am I going to thicken? Secondly, why do I need organic bread? How can you treat bread poorly? Talk down to the wheat stalks? That is absurd. Thirdly, bread is not supposed to have protein. It is not meat bread. It is bread bread. And lastly, NOTHING IN MY BREAD SHOULD BE SPROUTING. I don't even think I have ever eaten anything with the word "sprout" in it. This bread makes me both insanely mad and also want to giggle, all at the same time. It just, it doesn't fit. It does not belong in my life. Get it out GET IT OUT.

So this morning, I toasted a slice of white bread we bought to replace the ridiculous sprouty bread. And when I slipped that delicious buttery toasted overly refined wheaty piece of bread into my mouth, I couldn't have been happier. Sure, I still couldn't feel my cheeks from all the pressure in my sinuses. But I was eating bread made from bleached out bottom of the barrel flour. And that, my friends, is all I ask for in this life.

Las Vegas: Part I (aka the part where I am mildly bitter)

2009-03-02T00:57:00.003-05:00

I spent the majority of this weekend in Las Vegas sick in bed. I took a brief break from napping and blowing my nose to see Jubilee, aka the show where there are a lot of topless women for no apparent reason except to be topless. There was also a juggler. I thought of Tom.

I am now stranded in Charlotte in the middle of their annual snow storm. I have tried very very hard to have a good attitude all weekend, despite the seven pounds of snot keeping my brain from transporting normal messages to the rest of my body. But I think I am finally going to cave, take a long bath, and scream loudly under water.

tidbitting

2009-02-26T23:44:00.004-05:00

Here are tidbits from my life, because I have to pack for *insert location here* for a bachelorette party and whoa it is 11:43 PM. Shit.

Tidbit #1:
mr anon: did you here about the guy who went into a casino and got arrested for trying to walk out with 100 lobsters shoved in his coat and pants¹?
me: What? 100 lobsters?
mr. anon: Yeah.
me: That doesn't sound like that would even work.
mr. anon: Well, it didn't. He got caught.

Tidbit #2:
After Soohyung's piano concert at Carnegie Hall, the concert attendees were invited to a reception at this beautiful apartment that overlooked Central Park. My father strategically placed himself between the crudites and the waitresses who were butlering hors d'oevres. Rosy and I watched a really pretty asian girl spill wine all over the couch and I was glad that I was not the ungraceful asian in the room. I said this, then turned around to see someone VIDEOTAPING ME. Lesson learned: If you are going to be a bitch, check to make sure it isn't going to be caught on film. And shown. To Soohyung and Soobin's entire family.

Tidbit #3:
We are playing Taboo. Andrea and Joe B are on my team. My clue: Drug dealers use this to communicate. Joe B's answer: Pigeons? The throbbing vein in my forehead: the first time I gave this clue the answer was beeper. The second time the answer was pager. Both times the only guess that was made was PIGEONS.

Tidbit #4:
I am not a huge fan of my husband on Facebook. Stupid pretty Korean girls friending him! All along, my plan was to convince him that no other Korean girl is prettier and funnier and more mr. anon-compatible than I am because let's face it, how many Korean girls are out there that would want a smart adorable charming Korean lawyer husband? Well, according to facebook, like 5 million. So I officially hate you Facebook for reintroducing me to my fierce sense of asian inadequacy. Now I'm going to have to start showering. GREAT.

Tidbit #5:
I might be less aggressive next week, when I like sleep and wear clothes that have been washed.

^{1 - note, the linked article is cringe worthy. that man should be fired. or hired as a writer for the daily show.}

Appreciation

2009-02-19T11:07:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, I passed a sedan with an orange cone sitting on its roof. It looked like a tiny little hat and made me giggle. After work, I went over to Andrea's to help her assemble her wedding invitations. She greeted me with a liter of Seagram's seven, Seven-up, and two boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

Today, I saw a bulldog taking a ride in a red wagon.

My week at work has a bit of a shit show, I am not going to lie. But I can't help but feeling a little bit "watched over" lately. So, thanks to whomever it may concern (God, Yahweh, Mohammed, Ellen DeGeneres).

on dinner, not life spouses

2009-02-16T08:00:00.000-05:00

me: I'm not hungry for asian.
mr. anon: does that mean you are not hungry for me?

iLike

2009-02-11T08:34:00.003-05:00

- car washes
- walking through snow piles in my rain boots
- driving south at sunset
- Fabio from Top Chef Season 5
- the cookbook section of bookstores
- snow that just lingers in the air
- Yann Tiersen
- bananas (WHO KNEW)
- watching my husband doing the P90x, preferably while eating a bowl of pasta

21st century parents

2009-02-10T09:01:00.001-05:00

Emails from my parents

(background: "That cross-eyed bitch" was my freshman high school english teacher. She stuck it to me in a couple of different ways, even though she ultimately seemed to like me and even nominated me to receive a full scholarship to her alma mater. Unfortunately, her alma mater was a small all girls college in Connecticut. Thanks, but no thanks, lady.)

from: Dad
to: Adina
date: Fri, Jan 30, 2009

Dear Adina:
That cross-eyed bitch was in the teachers room when I dropped off some cookies I made last night (We didn't like them) & she was the first to grab one. She asked my name & I told her, MR. L--. "are you Adina's dad?" she asked. I really wanted to punch her, but instead i told her how well you did in college & on the job, Americores, husband, so she knows that in spit of her you are GREAT>

LOVE!!!
Dad

***

(background: Mr. Anon and I are going over to my parents for the superbowl. I know, not as good of a background as the first story. Sorry.)

from: Mom
to: Adina
date: Sun, Feb 1, 2009

When do you think you will be over? I just want to know when to prepare the few things I'm making? Love Hot Mama.

Adina's Rules:#11: What’s the worst that can happen?

2009-02-09T07:53:00.002-05:00

So this is the final and probably the most repeated mantra so far. It is also probably the least intuitive and hardest to explain. I am not asking myself what is the worst that can happen so that I can charge forward with reckless abandon. I’ve done that, and I am ready for a little bit less abandon. When I ask myself this, it helps me get a sense of the situation and decide how to proceed. It is my nature to throw myself into things and make stupid, wild decisions. I realize now I need to take the time to step back and really assess the situation for what it is. In the end, I am not making life/death decisions, and when I do answer with “death” then I know I have to scale it back a bit anyway. But it does help me stay more aware of my surroundings and my actions, and that is all I want from this. I want to be present in my life. I want to be careful - not Adrien Monk careful - but just a little bit more careful than I am known to be. I want to take calculated risks. I want to live a healthier, happier life that isn’t me constantly encountering the worst. I guess, even if the answer isn’t death, I still I want to scale it back a bit. So on one hand, really what is the worst that can happen? And on the other hand, let’s not test it out.

Adina's Rules: #10: Don't be afraid to accessorize

2009-02-06T06:57:00.002-05:00

I have boring style. I remember watching "What Not to Wear" one day and this lady had bought pants and shirts all in the same style but in different colors. And the first thing that popped into my head was, what is wrong with that? Well, if there was nothing wrong with that, Adina, then she wouldn’t be on "What Not to Wear" now would she? It is not that I can’t see what is fashionable. I just cringe at the thought of paying hundreds of dollars on clothing. I am a twice a year shopper – once for warm clothes and once for cold clothes – and rarely spend more than 200 bucks at each go. As a result, I am frumpy. Well, no more! I subscribe to US Weekly! I watch a lot of TLC! I am well versed in all of Michelle Obama’s inauguration clothing choices! I am hip! I am down! I am the next Nichole Ritchie without the baby and the eating disorder! With all of these exclamation points, you’d think that I actually was on my way to some cute little boutique downtown. But be warned – the most you will probably see change is that I might sometimes wear a bracelet. Remember, baby steps.

Adina's Rules: #9: Keep your bangs trimmed

2009-02-05T07:54:00.000-05:00

How is Adina going to make this one-liner into an entire paragraph of self reflection, you might be asking yourself. Well, I’m not. I want to keep my bangs trimmed because when they are in my eyes, it drives me freaking nuts.

Adina's Rules: #8: Know your limits

2009-02-04T07:44:00.006-05:00

This rule is difficult for me to talk about. On one hand, I feel like I have a good sense of what my limits as well as my boundaries are. On the other hand...well, 2008. This applies to drinking but also to my tolerance for crap and overextending myself. So, I am going to make a real effort to schedule in a bit of R&R time between all the state hopping I will be doing this year for weddings and showers and general revelry. And when someone is being a dick, I will take a deep breath and a step back and say to myself, “you have reached your daily asshole intake limit¹ and you can no longer interact with any more assholes today”. And, after my fourth 7&7, instead of saying, “hell yeah I can drink another one” instead maybe I will say, “I am going to respect my limit and drink a water instead”. Wow, saying that sounds so silly and un-Adina but that is what it is going to be. So pick your jaw off the floor and stop being an unsupportive jerk.

^{1 - that's what she said. sorry, mom.}

Adina's Rules: #7: Be a good friend

2009-02-03T08:50:00.000-05:00

This folds a bit into “Love the one you’re with” but I wanted to dedicate a separate line to just my friends. I mean, this is a big year for so many of our friends - 11 sets of friends have gotten engaged in the past year with six (and counting) weddings scheduled for 2009 – and I want them to know that I am there for them when they think to themselves “holy crap calligraphy is boring” or “oh god I forgot to put on underwear and I am about to walk down the aisle.” Be assured, friends, I will grab the first quill pen I see and hunker down or slip off my own undergarments and go commando all for the sake of your comfort. I think it is pretty obvious that I don’t take friendship lightly – I choose carefully and then fuss over how stinking amazing they are. I know, I am such a tedious friend. But I just want to be a loyal friend, a loving friend, a friend that is there – because life sometimes suck. And when it does, I just want you to know – I’ll bring the cookies and the handle of whiskey.

Adina's Rules: #6: Cook more

2009-02-02T08:06:00.002-05:00

I am not talking about “open box, pour rice-a-roni into pot, eat and watch Jeopardy” cooking. I am talking about joining our local coop, building menus around fresh and healthy food, and sitting down to dinner with my husband at a dinner table. Maybe with placemats. Okay the placemats might be pushing it, but everything else I think we can do. Not every night...hell, maybe not even half of the week, but let’s start slow. Let’s aim for twice a week. Anyway, I am interested to see what vegetables look like when you steam them.

Adina's Rules: #5: Be active

2009-01-30T08:01:00.001-05:00

I love this one because it is so simple but can apply to my life in so many different ways. Be physically active (roller skate more, bike more, yoga more). Be active in my community. Take an active role at my job for self-improvement as well as group betterment. Be an active family member. Keep my mind and imagination active. I think another way I could phrase this is “get off the couch, you lazy bitch you” but let’s be active about minimizing cursing shall we.

Adina's Rules: #4: Believe in yourself

2009-01-29T07:09:00.001-05:00

I am a chronic self doubter, and I think I am getting worse as I get older. Am I attractive enough? Smart enough? Skinny enough? Funny, likeable, nice, asian enough? It is a repeat reel of worry playing through my head and, if he is lucky, repeated ad nauseum to mr. anonymous. I don’t think I come off this neurotic and self-loathing in person, but as a typical Jewish woman in her late (!) 20s, I need constant affirmation from friends and family of how stinking awesome I am when in reality, I just have to freaking ACCEPT MY AWESOMENESS. This is hard for me because does any self-respecting awesome person truly know how awesome they are? And doesn’t that unawareness lend itself to why they are so awesome? This is a complicated one. You want to have the right balance of confidence and humility. Right now, I think I am just totally reveling in humility, just rolling around in it like a pig in mud, just give me one more minute alone here as I sob into my humble pie. It is just a weird way to feel – I doubt myself constantly, even though I know deep down that I am good – at what I do, to my loved ones, for a laugh – I just cannot feel proud of myself. I would bring this back to the insecurities I have developed as an adopted person, but let’s be real here – it is not just that. It is me needing to have confidence in myself. If this means that I have to listen to that freaking Sound of Music confidence song every day, well then so be it. BRING IT ON LOW SELF-ESTEEM!

Adina's Rules: #3: Love the one you’re with

2009-01-28T08:17:00.002-05:00

Obviously, this applies to Mr. Anonymous and can be interpreted as: be a better wife, don’t bicker, don't belittle, appreciate all the amazing things he does for you, etc etc. But it also extends beyond that to the face time I spend with other people. I think generally it is so easy to be distracted by phone calls and text messages, crappy TV shows and video games, or just by the thought that it would be more fun to be with someone else. It is the simple case of greener grass and I am saying NO MORE I DON’T EVEN EAT GRASS I’M ALLERGIC. If I have a date night scheduled with my husband, then I am not going to cancel it because my friends are singing karaoke at bonner’s. If I am in a middle of a conversation with a friend, I am not going to check my text messages or answer my phone. I am basically going to be less distracted when I am with my husband and also with you. So everybody wins, except for those who only like to talk to me via text. So to all my texting friends, know that if I don’t text right back, it is because I am committed to the person I am with. And when we are face to face, I will show you that same level of respect. And if we are never face to face, well then I am glad you are my facebook friend.

Adina's Rules: #2: Follow through

2009-01-27T07:44:00.001-05:00

This one is a hard one for me. I am an incessant planner and an even more of an incessant canceller. I just love my bed, love my naps, my pajamas, my mueller’s macaroni with melted American cheese. I craft beautifully constructed workout regimens and then am so exhausted from all that spreadsheeting that I spend the next week just sitting in front of the TV watching DVD reruns. I cannot promise that I will get better at this, but I am going to try. I could easily call this rule "don't be a flake" but I think there are multiple definitions of flake and I am fine with being a little ditsy so long as I am reliable.

Adina's Rules: #1: Stop apologizing

2009-01-26T08:50:00.003-05:00

I apologize for everything, even if it isn’t my fault. And we are not just talking about “I am sorry I almost ran into you in the hall, I am sorry I didn’t copy you to that email,” but more like “I am sorry that everything in the world that is wrong is my fault.” At first I thought maybe “minimize apologies” would be better because we all need to sometimes suck it up and apologize. But then I realized that I will never have trouble with apologizing. My apology pendulum doesn’t swing that high in the other direction. So I just said, screw it I am going to stop apologizing, which means that maybe I will apologize 30% less. Which I think is me growing. Yay, growing!

2008 Year in Review: Part Two

2009-01-23T08:06:00.004-05:00

(aka the part where I talk about nothing for the next two weeks)

Last year, I dropped the ball in writing a 2007 Year in Review, and in retrospect I realize that could have easily been my 2008 theme: “2008 – the Year of Suck: Dropping the Ball for 365 Glorious Days.”

Generally, I just had too lofty of goals that I could not meet due to my unhealthy addiction to Pokemon Puzzle League and to all the time I devoted towards feeling sorry for myself. It has also become very clear that while my planning and my binders and my spreadsheets are all up to snuff, my follow-through could use some polishing up on.

As a result, I have spent a lot of time thinking of ways to self-improve without setting myself up for follow-through failure. I think the key for me is to have some basic rules to live by – some easy to remember sayings that I can default to when at a loss – versus having very specific goals (do the laundry once a week, don’t eat pasta after 3 pm) that God love me but I can’t commit to (what do you think Febreze was invented for, but that means I will have to eat ramen for breakfast).

Alisa and I have been bouncing ideas off each other since December, and I think I have a pretty decent list of rules that embody how I want to live my life. I am going to list them below and then discuss each one in more detail throughout the next couple of weeks. To show you how freaking committed I am, if I do not discuss every single item on the below list, I will send all my readers ten dollars. Of course, if I do stick to my commitment, then expect an email invoice from me for my money short thereafter. So get those check books ready!

1. Stop apologizing.
2. Follow through.
3. Love the one you’re with.
4. Believe in yourself.
5. Be active.
6. Cook more.
7. Be a good friend.
8. Know your limits.
9. Keep your bangs trimmed.
10. Don't be afraid to accessorize.
11. What’s the worst that can happen?

2008 Year in Review: Part One

2009-01-22T07:20:00.002-05:00

(aka the part where you read the post and then wonder what just happened to the last 10 minutes of your life)

January
It is 2008 and I am at Long Wong's. Donny humps a pole, then Jenn, then a pole again, and then proceeds to break lots of stuff. Heath Ledger dies. We move office locations, good bye Ann Taylor Loft. I finally pass the Town Watch torch and never look back. Sick and depressed, I curl up in the corner and wait for 2008 to be over.

February
My uncle is hospitalized and undiagnosable. I panic over a man I barely know and start calling and visiting often. He finds this weird and hangs up sooner than I am ready. I wonder if the calls are for him or for me. My assistant starts not showing up at work. We walk the cold beaches of Long Island and ping pong for hours at Carly’s. Mr. Anonymous and I buy a Wii for Valentine's day. The rest of this year in review will now read: "Played Wii. The End."

March
My assistant goes MIA off and on all month. This results in occasional melt downs and working on the weekends. Rosy gets engaged. HOLY SHIT ROSY GETS ENGAGED. I eat turkey tetrazzini regularly. I hate my face. We go to our first roller derby bout. My heart bleeds derby.

April
I ride my bike into a parked car and my department is audited by the FDA. I start biking to East Falls once or twice a week. I hate my face a little less. I am told that I might have tuberculosis or cancer. I have neither. I restock on bras. My assistant officially stops coming to work and is laid off. I wonder if she played me for a fool or if I failed her. Maybe it is a little bit of both, I decide. My father discovers Youtube and Facebook. I meet Lauren Graham. All is right in the world.

May
I turn 26. Nothing happens. I get my first ever spa massage. Nothing happens. My uncle is diagnosed with amyloidosis. I lose my shit during an office showing of the movie Wit. Jackie and Steve get engaged. My heart explodes with happiness. We buy a car. HELLO SUMMER OF 2008.

June
I make roller derby. I drink vodka out of a watermelon and then fall asleep on a yoga mat on the top of my car. I softball. Mr. Anon starts commuting to New York 4 days a week for work. Everything is hazy and hard to swallow. Thom & Mo get married - we celebrate with potato-tinis and carafes of mac and cheese. Something clicks in my life as we all start extemporaneously grapevining. I start to look forward – and realize it really is all uphill from here on out.

July
I make some major changes in my life. My sister and her wife separate. I watch my colposcopy on TV. Estelle Getty dies. Mr. Anon and I eat a traditional Sicilian dinner of spaghetti and meatballs in her honor. I hire my new assistant, Patrick. He likes scotch. He fits right in. I beach with Monica every moment possible. Breathing becomes a lot easier.

August
I beach with Char & Mike & co. I beach with Hill & Harren & co. I rotate crab eating and pokemon puzzling. I crush on Michael Phelps. I take myself off my meds. I put myself back on my meds. Mr. Anon and I hit a renaissance faire and eat turkey legs larger than our faces.

September
September is a good month. It is the month of the Fringe Festival, the making of Mafia the Movie, Sarah Palin, Tina Fey as Sarah Palin, etc. Mr. Anonymous and I celebrate our one year anniversary by pelting each other with paintballs.

October
Over 50% of my nights are spent at Yello bar watching the playoffs. We get cable. I meet the Gosselins from Jon and Kate plus Eight. Hello, new time suck. I am co-captain of our intramural football team. Hilarity ensues. The cold sets in. Phillies win the World Series. We riot and bonfire on Broad Street. At the parade, Pat Burrell rides the beer wagon with his bulldog. We will miss you, you giant crazy slow lush you.

November
America votes for Barack Obama as President of the United States. It is a little bit easier to make eye contact with people again. The largest piñata in the world is constructed 10 blocks from our apartment. I neti pot for the first time. I rediscover my nasal passages. Erinire mails me free shoes. I wonder if she will ever leave her husband for me. We throw our second annual pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving dinner for 40+ people in our 500 some square foot apartment. I drink a 7&7 out of a bucket. God I love Novembers.

December
I strive to eat a vegetable type product a day. Many days, this product is spinach dip. WHATEVER I TRIED. We hit Wisconsin for the holidays. We bowl, we roller skate, we roller skate some more, we nap, we read, we nap, we nap. We hit Nashville for onye. We mafia, kill bunnies, cornhole, and hang out with the Jugg Sisters. I look back at 2008 and am shocked by how much I have grown. I then microwave a slice of pizza over leftover Chinese and eat it all with chopsticks. Why, hello there 2009. You look hungry.

Did I say hungry? I meant thirsty.

And you're thinking: THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH

2009-01-21T15:39:00.004-05:00

me: Did you know about the peanut butter recall?
mr. anon: Yeah. I was talking about it with your dad the other night. He bought 5 jars of peanut butter.

American pride

2009-01-20T17:59:00.000-05:00

My boss brought in a projector and we projected the live CNN broadcast of the inauguration. A board meeting was delayed so all the members and staff could watch the swearing in. Once he was sworn in, every one in the office clapped. I got all ferklempt.

A proud proud day to be an American.

Can't you see

2009-01-16T09:36:00.003-05:00

“Notorious” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It has sex, drug dealing, gunslinging and swearing.

Oh man. I cannot wait to see this.

I have confidence in sunshine

2009-01-13T23:26:00.002-05:00

I think I am becoming a really good wife. And might, one day, be a really good mother. SWEET.

Good bye, you sloppy ho (her words, not mine)

2009-01-09T12:32:00.002-05:00

I am going to write a few things about our Wisconsin Christmas, Na'onye, and maybe even get around to writing a Year in Review. But not today.

Today, I am recovering from hanging out with hashers. I hit Bonners on the way home from therapy, since Melissa mentioned that she would be karaoking there. She neglected to tell me that before they karaoked, they RAN. Like, OUTSIDE.

Apparently, they hit the bar first, drink beer, run around for awhile, then hit another bar, drink more beer, run around for a little while longer, and then end up at the first bar and drink until they're drunk. Which, if you are running 5 miles in 10 degree weather, might very well mean you drink two beers and then let people give you purple nurples.

After they all get back from running, they go into this back room and say "vagina" a lot and sing a lot of dirty songs. There is this one part (I think called accusations) where they call people up for whatever reason and make you drink beer. If you were wearing new shoes, you had to drink beer out of your shoe (gross but also fascinating to watch). I didn't even run, I wasn't even in the group, and they made me chug three beers. Just for existing! And also for being sassy. and asian. and generally sort of a horror.

I have to say, for a long while I have known about the hashers (through Melissa and also Tara Newone from roller derby), but I always thought it was just this crazy-ass running club where people who were a little cracked ran around and threw flour at each other and dressed up as rabbits or something. And while, yes these people are fucking crazy for choosing to run in the middle of January, I have gained the utmost respect for their alcohol tolerance and fun loving ways. And for their creative ways to get people to chug beer. And also for that one guy, who danced like he had a scorpion in his pants.

Dear Melissa,
Thanks for the good times last night and for the past year! I wish we were best friends, but what can you do. U R A HO!

love, your whiskey fairy

or maybe painful death

2009-01-05T19:02:00.002-05:00

mr. anon: The vacuum sucked up my blackberry charger and when I yanked it out, the wired were all frayed and partially exposed. Do you think I need to buy a new charger?
me: well, what is the worst that can happen...
mr. anon: fire. electrocution.
me: No, I meant, you should ask yourself what is the worst thing that could happen. if the answer is fire or electrocution, then you should probably get a new one.
mr. anon: (pause) or maybe the answer is 'nothing'!

I like it in my breakfast too

2009-01-04T09:47:00.004-05:00

me: I don't care if there is alcohol in my mouthwash. I mean, I like alcohol in my alcohol.

(On switching over to hippie alcohol-free mouthwash)

Out with the old and in with the leftovers

2009-01-02T00:36:00.003-05:00

First meal of 2009: leftover take out white rice, egg foo young, chicken lo mein, and a slice in pizza, all microwaved in one bowl.

Oh boy.

Roller girls

2008-12-28T22:14:00.007-05:00

We just got home from spending the day in La Crosse, Wisconsin with the toney babies. For lunch, we hit an Italian restaurant in the lobby of a Holiday Inn which stayed open for us even though the sign explicitly read: "CLOSED". We were deciding on our orders when I saw that the children's menu had a corn dog option. I almost jumped out of my skin. Who doesn't love a good corn dog? Well, M for one (because I think generally hot dogs skeeve her out, and when you have to cover up an already questionable food stuff like a hot dog, well then it really makes you wonder. well, it makes adults wonder. it makes me hungry for some deep-fried cornmeal-covered hot dogs). But of course I had gotten so spazzy excited about the corn dogs that both her very well fed and nutritioned children decided to order their own corn dogs. Five minutes into a visit with Mr. and Mrs. Anonymous, and already her children are eating crap. I am so sorry, M.

They ended up not being able to finish their corn dogs because, well, they are really very tiny little people. So I finished the corn dogs for them. And then finished most of G's cookie. And then had a huge realization: Yes, lugging around a 3 year old is a great bicep and tricep workout, but it won't make a smattering of a difference if you are always polishing off their food. Embrace the doggie bag, Adina. Don't be afraid, just step away from the second corn dog.

What to do next with a 3 year old and a 6 year old? HOW ABOUT ROLLER SKATING?? Apparently the girls had never been roller skating, which made us even more excited to introduce them to the wonderful world of biting it.

G, this is the Ground. Ground, I'd like you to meet G.

We ended up staying at the rink for 4 hours, which I think is a feat in kid terms. C generated enough energy in those little legs to fly a Boeing 787 - she didn't exactly embrace the gift of glide. But she skated by herself and when she fell, she would just get right back up and go on her merry little way. I admired how determined she was to skate on her own, without the wall or her mom or my hand, even though I have skated with kids much older than C who could barely stand on their two feet.

C and her feet will be just fine

G was just as amazing. Very early on she realized that, while she didn't fall as often when skating with my husband or her mother, she also did not go nearly as fast with them as when she was skating with me. I found myself skating at a fairly fast adult speed with a flailing laughing 3 year old in tow. And yes, she fell. A lot. But as a result, so did I, and we would end up in a pile of giggles while 10 year olds dove out of the way. Those are memories people, that can only be created when you whip a 3 year old around the turns of a roller skating rink by one of her tiny little arms. This story would have definitely ended differently if I had dislocated G's arm, but I didn't so I win.

mr. anonymous: Let's skate really really slowly and carefully and barely move.
G: Where's Adina?

With a good 3 hours of skating under her belt, G asked me to take her over to the climber, which she and C had briefly explored when we first got there. I said sure, thinking that I would get a little back break as she ran and bounced around the playground. Wrong wrong wrong. Somehow she convinced me that, while I did not have the $3 wristband and while adults were definitely not allowed on the climber, if I just crawled around on my knees, it would all be fine. I was recounting this to Mr. Anonymous, who noted that I got convinced to do something I really shouldn't have done by a 3 year old. Yeah, well, he's just jealous because I got to play in the climber and he didn't!

Things that reminded me that I am not 5 years old even though I approach life and play areas like I am 5 years old:

1. While on the climber, I definitely slammed my head against a rail as I was flying down one of the slides. I was sitting at the bottom of the slide, rubbing my head, wondering if I got concussed, when a pile of boys slid right into my back.

2. Earlier on in the day, I was using the low wall to balance myself as I held onto a toddler with a skating death wish and I slammed my fist into a wall pillar. My first thought was, holy mother expletive etc, and then I thought, if I was going fast enough for that to hurt, maybe I should slow down. I mean I didn't but I thought it, and that is what counts, right?

See this child? This is a child I DID NOT BREAK.

Overall, I just love watching the Toney kids growing up. We only get to see them every few years, but there is no better sound in the world than their giggles as you try to throw popcorn in their mouths. Maybe one day I will have children of my own to harass. Until that day, thank you M for letting me almost but not quite break your kids. It was AWESOME.

She looks angry, but then seconds later G erupts into smiles,
shouting "I LOVE ROLLER SKATING!". me too, G. me too.

payback is a sweet sweet bitch

2008-12-26T16:32:00.004-05:00

In 2008, Mr. Anonymous loved to tell our friends about our last holiday in Wisconsin where I bought all of his presents on Christmas Eve at Walmart, ho ho ho.

Well, this year, he just bought all of his Christmas presents (for me, his parents, and his sister) the day AFTER Christmas on sale at Younkers. In fact, he is still shopping, and it is 4:34 PM.

BRING ON 2009.

What am I gonna do with you

2008-12-24T09:01:00.001-05:00

me: I love your voice.
mr. anon: Really? I hate my voice. I think it is the most annoying sound in the whole world.
me: You're kidding. It is not annoying at all, it's so sweet.
mr. anon: Yeah, but in my head I sound like Barry White.

can't we just skip straight to the part where we drink?

2008-12-23T09:08:00.003-05:00

a la xkcd.com

Glad I told him before we went to see it, or he would have been in for a world of surprise

2008-12-22T09:00:00.004-05:00

(A preview comes on for Doubt.)

me: I really want to see that.
mr. anon: Wait, so what is that movie about? Abuse?
me: Yeah, they think that priest is molesting a boy.
mr. anon: oh. I thought it was a comedy.
me: (nothing)
mr. anon: You know, like a priest and a nun fall in love or something.

Healthy Week in Review - the week I dropped the ball. And then left it there, dropped.

2008-12-21T22:53:00.003-05:00

Mon 12/15: pineapple bake. fruits in desserts still count.

Tues 12/16: spinach artichoke chicken lean pocket. I think I am missing the point, huh.

Wed 12/17: steamed asparagus. I would like to take props for cooking asparagus, but I can't. Thanks, mom.

Thurs 12/18: Whiskey. Look, I'm not going to lie.

Fri 12/19: Potato mushroom taquito. At least I think there were mushrooms in it.

Sat 12/20: Chocolate mousse cake. I had given up by this point, okay.

Sun 12/21: A lot of sour cream and latkes. It was my cousin Lisa's hannukah party. In other words, no vegetables allowed, only food that can be smothered in sour cream and/or cream cheese.

at&DIE

2008-12-20T10:11:00.003-05:00

Has anyone else noticed that the new at&t commercials seem to say that if you don't use their service, you'll DIE?

I'll take my chances with Verizon, but thanks for the heads up at&t.

Yeah, it's a stupid super power, but at least it's a super power

2008-12-17T11:34:00.002-05:00

The other day, I sniffed around and said to my office mates, "I smell yellow rice." Barbara then says, "Wow. Chris is eating yellow rice. I can't believe you can smell the color of rice."

Then today, I stepped out of my office and immediately said to myself, "Mmmm, I smell ramen." And then I walk to the kitchen and what is cooking? NISSIN RAMEN. And this was before the soup mix or flavoring had been mixed into the soup - this was just flash fried noodles in water.

Which makes me wonder, is my super power to smell carbohydrates? Specifically carbohydrates that are loaded with sodium? And how can I make this world a better place with my super power? Besides eating other people's lunches when they're not looking?

Heathy(ish) Week in Review - I am getting better - not really

2008-12-16T11:56:00.002-05:00

Mon 12/8: green bean casserole and tuna helper (which mr. anon mixed broccoli into) leftover from Sunday night dinner. Yes, I ate this for breakfast. What do you want from me?

Tues 12/9: brussel sprouts. Two bites mac and cheese, one bite brussel sprout. Repeat ad infinitum.

Wed 12/10: Three kinds of pasta and pizza. Look, I'm not perfect, okay?

Thurs 12/11: Broccoli rabe. mix sausage + anything = me eating it.

Fri 12/12: Spinach dip. also, lots of whiskey.

Sat 12/13: Kim bop, hummus. not at the same time.

Sun 12/14: I am pretty sure I slept this entire day away.

The Great Food Off of 2008

2008-12-12T08:00:00.001-05:00

A "conversation" with my British friend, Simon. I air quotes conversation because it is a battle of the brains (where brains = poorly developed taste buds). Long, but I think worth it.

Simon: i'm flying on the 24th too
Adina: where are you flying?
Simon: england
Adina: oh dear…for how long?
Simon: 19 days! have to renew my visa and eat proper food
Adina: england has proper food? i thought english food sucks
Simon: ha! like American food?
Adina: um THE BLOOMIN ONION
THE BACONATOR
Simon: hmm carry on
Adina: KRAFT MACARONI AND CHEESE
GREEN BEAN CASSEROLE
TURDUCKEN
AWESOME FRIES
i'm sorry simon…but america has the best worst food in the whole world
Simon: Ahh! OK…Right it’s smack down time.
BEEF WELLINGTON
YORKSHIRE PUDDING
CUP-OF-TEA
Adina: we're really doing this
ICE CREAM CAKE
DOUBLE DIPPED ICE CREAM
ANYTHING FROM DAIRY QUEEN
Simon: APPLE CRUMBLE
RHUBARB CRUMBLE
CHEDDAR
Adina: WE DEEP FRY CHEDDAR
AND THEN MAKE YOU DIP IT IN SPAGHETTI SAUCE
COCA COLA WITH LIME
Simon: COCA COLA LIME AND BARCARDI
Adina: DEEP FRIED OREOS
DEEP FRIED TURKEY
Simon: DEEP FRIED PIZZA
DEEP FRIED MARS BAR
COTTAGE PIE
QUICHE
(OK THATS NOT BRITISH)
Adina: THE GRAND SLAM AT DENNY'S
Simon: JERSEY ROYAL NEW POTATOES
Adina: FRENCH FRIES FROM WENDY'S DIPPED IN A FROSTY
Simon: NO
WRONG
RASPBERRY MILKSHAKE FROM MACDONADS
MAC DONALDS
Adina: WHAT
WHAT
FRENCH FRIES FROM WENDY'S DIPPED IN A FROSTY = HEAVEN FROM A TO GO WINDOW
Simon: skank
Adina: ho
i am sorry simon, but you are wrong
Simon: no, you don't understand
ROASTED PARSNIPS
And your governor looks like a gangster
Adina: what our governor looks like has nothing to do with our food tastes
and now, for the final blow
Simon: ok ok
Adina: PHILLY CHEESESTEAKS
TASTYKAKES
PHILADELPHIA CREAM CHEESE
HARD PRETZELS
THAT YOU BUY
FROM A HOMELESS PERSON
Simon: ooooo
Adina: BUUUURRRRNN

this is me jumping up and down on a couch

2008-12-11T21:36:00.003-05:00

I am sorry, Tom Cruise, but Valkyrie is not a "suspense thriller". We all know what happens in the end - Hitler isn't assassinated, and 6 million Jews are murdered. Thanks for reminding me of this...on CHRISTMAS DAY. Nothing says Christmas like a story about a man who tries to kill Hitler and fails.

On a related note, tomcruise.com. No really. The first 2 some minutes of the intro might be my new favorite thing in the universe.

Or does it even matter since I am going to die from high blood pressure anyway?

2008-12-08T17:17:00.003-05:00

poll by twiigs.com

Healthy Week in Review - it is the thought that counts

2008-12-07T10:40:00.004-05:00

Mon 12/1: Broccoli. Gross.

Tues 12/2: A strawberry and 5 pcs of pineapple. Tart, but manageable.

Wed 12/3: Do french fries count as a vegetable? Because they should.I would be the best vegetarian ever.

Thurs 12/4: Spinach! Yes it was mixed in with my noodles and smothered in butter and old bay but it was there! And it was pretty healthy! Besides the butter and old bay!

Fri 12/5: Um, more spinach. Officially bored with spinach.

Sat 12/6: There were vegetables touching my sandwich. That counts, right?

Sun 12/7: Kim bop. Seaweed, carrots, spinach, radish, the whole shebang. Downside: itchy lips.

Although I have a sinking feeling that these dumplings were not made from scratch

2008-12-03T13:00:00.002-05:00

A few months ago the HeatEatReview.com Editor requested that we cough up some soup reviews, and I dutifully went out and bought a dozen cans of soup, the majority of which are still sitting in my cupboard.

I did however manage to eat Progresso's Chicken and Herb Dumpling Soup, which (con) did not have noodles but (pro) did have tons of salt. And while lunch without noodles is like Mork without Mindy, I have to say, this was not a total disaster.

Read my review here, and then stick to lunches with pasta.

That's it, I'm sticking to noodles

2008-12-02T22:07:00.004-05:00

I don't think I have ever made a store-made pizza before. Put a pound of butter and some flour in front of me and I will be knee deep in roux, but ask me to place a pizza pie in the oven that has not been pre-heated and I will look at you as if you are a maniac. Because making a sea of roux is completely normal.

The doorbell rings as every fire alarm in my apartment is sounding off and I am frantically trying to circulate the cold air into the apartment with a three-ring binder. Thinking it is a concerned neighbor, I run downstairs, binder in hand, and throw open door as I ramble on about my frozen pizza and overzealous fire alarm.

And there they are. Two college-aged Mormon kids trying to give me a coupon for a free Bible. Oh, and also trying to save my soul. That is when I realize that I am not wearing a bra and, well, it's December.

Dear God, if Jesus ever decides to pay me a visit, please let me be wearing a bra.

love, adina

All good things come to an end, even if they sucked

2008-11-30T17:12:00.004-05:00

I would like to state for the record that I will have seen my parents and sister for four nights in a row as of 6 PM. And no one has cried...yet. Could it be? Are we slowly evolving into a...functional family?

I don't know how I feel about this. I mean, we ALWAYS sit in a parking lot and talk about our feelings on Black Friday. What am I going to do with all this extra time?

Oh yeah, eat leftovers. Right.

An a side note, happy end of NaBloPoMo! aka, OH FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING, THANK GOD THIS IS OVER. Every year, I tend to overdramatize the end of this blogging month when in reality I always feel like I grew from the blomo experience, but this year I really struggled to find the time to do significant and interesting soul searching via my daily blogging.

So, in a gallant effort to still have a thoughtful end-of-year month, I have made some pre-resolution resolutions that I plan to try out this December, in the hopes that December is the new November, except with less blogging and more promises kept.

Happy end of the month!

Like of the Day

2008-11-29T18:25:00.002-05:00

The way the frost slowly fades away when I use the defroster. I think it is calming.

Lucky

2008-11-28T12:48:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I feel like my life is just one really long awesome sleepover.

Thanks and Giving

2008-11-27T21:51:00.003-05:00

I am sitting on my cousin Neil's new Macbook guy, the one that is made from one piece of aluminum. I love it so much, the keys are so bouncy. I really have to stop licking it. It is not turkey. It is not turkey.

Thanksgiving was beautiful, per always. My cousin Michael is wearing a plaid Ecko limited shirt with a Rhino exploding out of the back. I love my family.

We are now on our way to Jersey to drink with Rosy and company, and maybe eat some french onion soup. Life is good.

Notice I say "starting December 1st", not "starting now, right before Thanksgiving". I'm determined, not cracked.

2008-11-26T08:51:00.004-05:00

I like to think that my eating habits make me a little bit more colorful - and a bit less predictable - than your average tiny asian. Yes, I eat like crap, but I make it funny! So, I get to eat a burger and you get to LOL! Everybody wins!

But I am starting to think that my vegetable-free/fruit-free diet is going to bite me in my ass in a few years when I start trying to make babies that are made up of more than macaroni and whiskey. So I have decided that for the month of December, I am going to try and eat a vegetable and/or fruit every day. If it goes well (as in, I don't die from an allergic reaction/boredom), I might just adopt a new diet which happens to be called the "well balanced" diet.

This might be second nature to you, but let me give you a glimpse into what I typically eat in a day (as in, today):

- Kix
- 2 pc (dark meat) crown fried chicken
- a biscuit
- macaroni and cheese
- half a piece of deep fried chicken breast
- tiny piece of alfredo lasagna
- alex's leftover macaroni and cheese
- a shrimp spring roll
- a bowl of macaroni with melted american cheese
- two cups of apple cider

I had forgotten about the apple cider, which I guess I would usually count as 2 fruit servings today, BUT NO MORE. I am going to think of creative work-arounds to my allergies and reassess what foods I truly am allergic to versus the ones that I think are just too damn tart.

I am doing this for my future babies, my husband, and my hope to lose those last tricky ten pounds. Because after re-reading what I ate today, I am amazed that my cheeks haven't attempted a coup d'etat to take control over the rest of my face. And that I actually seem to be not regaining all the weight I lost this summer (yet) and would love to stay that way.

I am somehow going to work into this blog what vegetable/fruit I decide to parlay with each day and how I plan to cook/shmoosh/disguise it to convince my body that yes, food comes in shapes other than noodle and hot dog.

Maybe this will also help me not have to poop five times a day. So, all things considered, totally worth trying.

The future looks dark. Very very dark.

A five page long blog post about shoes. I know how excited you must be, Tom.

2008-11-25T09:47:00.000-05:00

I am not unaware that I am a very very fortunate human being. To know the people I know, the people who time and again exhibit generosity and thoughtfulness in my direction. Who shower me with love, with mixed cds and books (I have not forgotten, just sucked), with advice and most awesomely of all, with black patent leather shoes.

prettier than my husband, don't tell my husband

Erinire had two pairs of shoes that she had bought online and could not return and therefore was looking for a lucky little girl to take them off her hands. Guess who was that girl? Me! I was the girl! I was!

The shoes above have not really gone out of my sight since they arrived on Sunday. I keep them with me wherever I go, sometimes carrying them into my bedroom when it is time to sleep, sometimes putting them in my purse when I need to run to the supermarket for cheese. I haven't loved a pair of shoes this much since I bought my Steve Madden Luvvy shoes in like 2006.

Wait. Am I still talking about a pair of shoes? uh, well, I guess I am. But I'm done now. I have wiped the drool off my chin and taken a sedative, and I'm cool. Sorry.

The other pair of shoes sadly did not fit onto my wide unbound feet, but I think I might have found them a happy home with my friend Alisa who will love them in all their bowy glory as much as I love my pumps. I know this because we walked around my apartment on Sunday in them eating cold pizza, ramen, macaroni and cheese, and watching Amelie, wearing sweat pants and our tiny black shoes.

So now that I have talked about shoes for like 5 hours, I would just like to send a big shout out to erinire for making me a little bit creepier and more eccentric than I already was. I love you. Thank you so much for the shoes. And for your friendship. You're pretty.

Totally rocking the top 15 most dangerous cities list

2008-11-24T22:13:00.003-05:00

mr. anon: So, do you know what the most dangerous city in America is?
me: um, I know this....not camden, um...oh yeah, New Orleans.
mr. anon: yup.
me: Did you notice Philadelphia wasn't even in the top 15?
mr. anon: number 22 baby!
mr. anon & me: (high five) yeah!!

I love living in Philadelphia.

whoops/crap

2008-11-23T23:59:00.000-05:00

with two minutes left in the day, just realized i didn't post. crap.

watched four movies this weekend and bought a bridesmaid dress for rosy's wedding. success!

please don't judge me for my crappy nablopomoing

Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving Dinner: Done and Done

2008-11-22T10:38:00.005-05:00

Last night we hosted our second annual Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving dinner. Some notable memories:

- 41 people ended up coming last night. And while our apartment can barely fit four, we are proud to say that we ended up fitting and feeding all of them, even the ones we didn't know. The 27-lb turkey was gobbled up (har har) by our guests as were all the sides and beer. What was not finished? The tequila from a party in like 2005. Joe B was even drinking it straight from his beer bottle (why he didn't just grab a plastic cup I don't know, but that is what makes him Joe B, right?). I am never going to be rid of that tequila, unless we throw a Mexican Mixer, and we all know how those turn out (with actual mexican guys throwing up in every sink in your apartment, good times).

Post party. I am starting to think we don't drink enough after work.
And when I say we, I mean my husband.

- Since some of my favorite people in the world are vegetarians (Hillary, Amanda, Andrea), I picked up a tofurky and tofurky gravy at Whole Foods. But the gravy was frozen and I didn't want the tofurky to dry out while it was slow cooking. And then I think something Jewish inside me snapped because I splashed a bit of chicken broth in there to ensure moistness. CHICKEN broth. As in, broth from an ANIMAL. oh Adina. The faux pas didn't even occur to me until I was telling Hillary about the tofurky prep and she started laughing and pointing at me while shouting CHICKEN BROTH and then laughing some more. Yet another sign that I will never be able to become a vegetarian. A Jew without her chicken broth is like a hooker without her corner.

Mid feast

- Alisa and Brandon and Stacy are big big gamers. Alisa even said this week how she couldn't wait to come over and play scattegories in the corner of our apartment for hours. So it was no surprise when they started playing Balderdash with a dictionary. But then Hillary leans over and whispers to me, "Adina, those people behind you are reading the dictionary..." which results in me laughing so hard and so abruptly that I pee myself a little. Okay a little bit more than a little STOP STARING AT ME.

Not joking. Actually peed myself.

- Despite the crowdedness of the apartment, this did not keep us from breaking out the card games and eventually quarters. QUARTERS. I didn't think people even played quarters anymore, but apparently they do and their names are Hopely, Dawson, Thai, and Harren. Later, while I am trying to convince them to play flip cup with 7&7's (what), Dawson suggests that I make a giant 7&7 in the bucket sitting next to me. Two seconds later, I am pouring whiskey into a bucket with reckless abandon while my husband shakes his head at me, and I suddenly realize that (a) I don't think I will ever love another drink as much as I love my 7&7s and (b) when you are the host and you are drinking booze out of a bucket, this signals to your guests that they can start doing body shots and dancing violently to Sisqo, which may or may not be the signal that you want to give.

Hillary does not approve.
Harren is making love to the straw.

- We officially have no turkey leftovers, and for that matter, barely any leftovers of any type period. And while on one hand this means that I am going to have to bake another freaking turkey this week specifically for turkey tetrazzini, it also means that our friends are well fed and possibly at the gym right now cursing me and doing an extra set on the abductor. And the fact that we can do that for them, we can make them a little bit happier and a lot fatter, well, what more could you ask for in life.

A sure sign of a good unhealthy time had by all.

Thanks to everyone who came out last night and helped us celebrate our favorite holiday of the year. We love you and we hope to be able to show our love for you through food for many years to come.

Pre-Thanksgiving Blogathon: Failed

2008-11-21T19:02:00.002-05:00

People are starting to trickle in for Pre-Thanksgiving. I will post later. I love you, whoever you are. ~ a

Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving Dinner: Round 1, Giant Turkey

2008-11-20T22:10:00.006-05:00

LET THE PRE-THANKSGIVING BLOGATHON BEGIN

So far I have:

- taken a bath in turkey juice.
- seen the top of my desk for the first time since 2006.
- used more 409 than I have ever used. ever. that isn't saying much, but still. EVER.
- waltzed to Ben Folds Five's Boxing with my husband. Yeah, we've still got it.
- found a use for our t-square that does not involve right angles.
- bought a 27 lb turkey that does not fit into my roasting pan. So yes, one point for you, giant turkey. but in the end, you're the dead one so WHO'S THE WINNER NOW HUH? that's right, me.
- not cleaned the bathroom. because I am still hoping to god that I will wake up tomorrow and it will have cleaned itself. and also made me breakfast and doubled the square footage of our 500 sq ft apt.
- realized our pre-thanksgiving thanksgiving count is officially at 44 people and counting. shit.

BRING ON THE PRE-THANKSGIVING THANKSGIVINGING.

eat me, giant turkey bitch

Back when we didn't have cable or the Wii, we used to make up these type of games all the time. Those were simpler times.

2008-11-19T21:47:00.004-05:00

Using no hands, try and kick the other person's butt. Your foot must touch the other person's butt cheeks to get a point. First to five wins.

Pushing with your head is allowed, but pushing with your elbows is not. Swinging your head wildly is also not allowed.

Round 1: Adina.