Archive for the 'Friends' Category


plain awesome


I love this. I love this so very, very much.


it’s electric!


Photo powered by BlackBerry.

This is a picture of me about to pass out with the new electric throw (or electric woobie, as I’ve been calling it) that Paige mailed to me because she’s awesome. The only way this present could have been more awesome is if they somehow just invented an electric Snuggie and nobody told me.

I’ve used it since I got home tonight (which, for those of you playing along at home, was 9 p.m.) and I’m not sweaty hot. It’s actually this even, comfortable, wonderful level of heat.

And now you have a Marcia Griffiths song stuck in your head. I did that.


there’s need to fear


Last night, I sat on my couch and watched Brandon in seven levels of hell as the No. 1 Tennessee Titans derailed and let the Cleveland Browns Baltimore Ravens take away their shot at an AFC championship.

Fortunately, I still have all of my teeth.

But then, Carolina went down like a sack of wet cement. And today? Wow. Sorry ’bout your luck, Giants fans. Geez.

And now, I’m stting here watching Pittsburgh mount a second-quarter comeback after being down 10-7 on San Diego.

It’s like life got inverted and any normal semblance of NFL playoffs went out the window. It’s almost like a real-life, NFL version of “Vote for the Worst.” It’s like we’re trying to get Sanjaya into the Super Bowl in a match for total dominance against Taylor Hicks.

Someone just needs to get me Chris Daughtry. Immediately.

(Note: It’s 14-10 Pittsburgh now. Much to my happiness. Much to Brandon’s dismay.)

So, I hadn’t really forgotten about the blog, but to say that I’ve been busy is a bit of an understatement. I spent the week before Christmas trying to compact about six days worth of work into two to meet the printing schedules of our other papers. I spent a great, great five days at home, and while I didn’t get the chance to see everybody I wanted to see, it was still nice to be in West Virginia and among people that truly make you feel like no matter where you roam, you have an anchor.

Once I got back from the Christmas visit, we jumped into our New Year’s printing schedule, and then before I knew it, it was almost time for the Obamathon. Wall-to-wall from Wednesday through the big day. I got home at 9 p.m. almost every night last week, and that’s after spending all day compiling things, looking for events, etc.

I have a weekly column now which rocks my face off. I’m so happy to have the chance to actually have a space, every week, for me to write. I’m a dork, but I get excited on Thursday mornings when I see people reading it on the train.

But it wasn’t until I got an e-mail from a good friend of mine last week (a good friend in spite of some pretty whacked out turbulence around the edges), asking me if the Girl of Words had run out of words.

I truly haven’t. I just haven’t had the time to actually stop what I was doing at work to spend 15 minutes or so updating. And I post links to Facebook sometimes whichs gets a discussion going, but it doesn’t replace this. It really doesn’t. I never think people care much about what I’m thinking until someone actually stops to ask.

So, there’s not going to be a show tonight. There’s not going to be a show until after the Super Bowl. In addition to being a little bit burned out, I realize that with the season premiere of “24” tonight and NFL playoffs, I can’t, and don’t really want to, compete. I want to enjoy “24” and the Super Bowl.

So, I’m thinking we’ll be back Feb. 8, which is three days before I turn 30. Woof. Three days before I turn 30. Man.

And maybe I should, at any rate, make time to blog more because it’s great, cheap therapy. I’ve also seen some things floating around town in the last couple of weeks that truly would have made great entries.

But I hope all of you that are still checking in are doing well … I do read your blogs, I think about you often. You’re alright in my book. 🙂


for a good time, call …

I laughed until it hurt at my friend Cale’s misadventures in text messaging today. I’m glad Cale is my friend because it’s comforting to know that there’s at least ONE other person out there in this world that this kind of stuff happens to. I think that for Christmas, I’m going to have to buy him the t-shirt I saw that said “Shit happens. But mostly to me, so don’t worry.”


what’s for lunch?

Today’s edition of “What’s for Lunch?” is in honor of Sweet Ann of Charleston, W.Va.


Because yesterday, she was, for lack of a more accurate word, quasi-lectured that she could either use Twitter to tell people something “relevant” about an event she was attending or she could tell people what she was having for lunch.

Upon learning those developments, I picked to honor her right to use Twitter however she chooses by putting up her theme idea of “What’s for Lunch?” today.

Pictured is what I’m having, naturally. More food for eight-year-olds. Please, someone one-up me.


meanwhile, at the hall of justice

That could sum up the last couple of days for me. I left Maryland at 2 p.m. Friday, and more than six hours later (thanks, in part, to solid traffic and road construction from Maryland to Breezewood, Pa.) got to Wheeling to see my Dad. He looks great. He’s making amazing progress. If all goes well, he’ll be home in about four weeks or so. He actually talked to me Friday night, which was huge. I hadn’t heard his voice since May. Probably Mother’s Day. He wasn’t really down with my move, so we weren’t talking much before this happened. I’m certain nothing like that will every happen again.

Saturday morning, I got up early and headed down to Charleston for Michelle’s shower and bachelorette party. It was so strange going to Charleston. It felt weird. But I had a great time, albeit an exhausted one. I’m certain I’d be more equipped to really cut loose with some ample sleep, but that’s not in the cards for a few more weeks.

Sunday was spent back in Wheeling to see Dad again (it’ll be a couple of weeks before I’m back) and driving home. I found myself on the Pennsylvania Turnpike with NPR being the only radio I could pick up. It was “All Things Considered.” I heard a story about how the Olympics are nothing but out of control nationalism and a huge story about Obama’s first trip to southern Illinois. I wish I was making that up. I really wish I was making that up.

But now, home, and back at it. I saw a Twitter from Ann this morning asking what was up about everybody’s “end of summer” funk, and I full admit I’m in one, too. As I sat on Julie’s couch Sunday morning, I said, “I really feel like I’m one more event away from a ‘hospital grade’ breakdown.” Maybe it’s exaggerating a bit, but I’m starting to feel like I can’t catch a break. Every time I turn around, someone’s angry, something’s broken, something’s going to cost me twice what I expected it to, somebody’s feelings are hurt that I don’t seem like me, etc. I don’t often whine in this space, but without whining too much, I’m really just feeling like I’ve hit my limit.

It does feel good to be back here, though. As crazy an as out of sorts as things feel, at least it’s consistently that way. Consistency’s not always a bad thing.

But in case Karma’s reading today, it’s not funny anymore. I’d like to cash in my good chips.


Sometimes, they write themselves

It all started here ...

It all started here ...

Me: god my belly hurts because it’s so funny to me to dress the animals
Me: hahahahaha
Me: i’ve become what i hate
Paige: haha
Paige: you totally have
Me: i hang my head
Paige: you should!
Paige: you’re a 45 year old housewife from fond-du-lac, wisconsin.
Paige: next thing you know, you’ll be on the metro, wearing crocs
Paige: and carrying a PBS tote bag
Paige: wearing mom jeans
Paige: with the 11 inch zipper
Paige: and pleats, for comfort
Paige: elasti-waist
Me: noooooooooooooooo
Paige: you will, of course, be wearing a sweater with cat appliques
Paige: and a whimsical thought bubble from a sleeping cat that says “I’m purrrrrrrrrrrfect!”
Me: i. am. crying.
Me: hahahahahahahahaha

Paige: did I mention you crochet on the metro?
Paige: you’d like to be able to knit, but metro police told confiscated your needles during rush hour.
Paige: they detained you for 4 hours of questioning
Paige: and then released you to the custody of your husband, a long haul teamster named Carl.
Me: IT HURTS!!!!
Paige: lol
Me: I’m so putting this on my blog.
Paige: you don’t blog, Vivian
Paige: you only go online to find limited edition beanie babies on eBay.
Paige: Carl is going to take away your debit card.
Me: it’s true!!!
Paige: of course, to make up for the emotional hurt of your detainment by metro police, he’s going to buy you that special olympics 08 beanie you’ve had your eye on, and take you to Shoney’s for a nice all-you-care-to-eat buffet.
Paige: did I mention the special olympics beanie has a large head?
Me: OK. It’s like 10:30. Grandma needs to go to bed!!
Paige: you appreciate the diversity it adds to your collection. you will put it next to Darfur beanie and project (red) beanie.
Paige: g’night, Gramma!
Paige: no stripping, you hear?
Me: I’ll behave so I don’t get my bridge club privileges revoked.
Paige: haha
Paige: canasta
Me: hahahahaha
Paige: no VFW bingo for you this week, young lady
Me: dammit!!!
Paige: night. 🙂

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