Get your MEK on

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls. Hold on to your hipsters.
Well over a year ago, I decided to try a brand new type of jean. They were superbly long, a dreamy combo of stiffness and stretchnessitude... They were my first MEKs.
Yes I splurged. You can't find decent pants that fit me on the clearance rack at Sears Roebuck.
I wore these jeans faithfully. They filled me up without letting me down.
I even have a girlfriend so fond of them that she wears them when she comes to town, or when I bring them when I go to visit her.
I (and my friend) wore these jeans so often that a hole started to wear in the butt pocket. It broke my heart. Domestically, I patched it.
Two weeks ago, two new holes wore through. I was crushed. My favorite pair of jeans lay lifeless, draped over my radiator until I could decide what to do with them. maybe I should cut them up and make a woobie out of them?
Then I decided that I spent way too much on these jeans to just let them "fade-out" (pardon the pun) of my life. So, I headed to the store with them in tow to see what they could do for me.
While en route, I was receiting my story to tell the sales clerk when I arrived. I wasn't making anything up; I just needed to get all my facts correct and in chronological order.
I walked in to the store to find a wonderfully cheerful salesclerk eager to meet my needs. I took a deep breath. *Ahem*. "Well, you see... I bought these pants a while ago..."
The girl didn't care. "Oh, ok!" says the girl. "Go pick out a new pair and we'll exchange them".
"Really?", I question. "So I haven't washed them since wearing them last. Should I take them home and wash them before I bring them in to exchange?"
"No, don't worry about it. Just give them to me and go over and pick yourself out a new pair".
"Well, so it has been probably at least a year since I bought these. Is this going to be ok?"
The salesclerk realized I felt uncomfortable and a little apprehensive about the whole situation. So she walks me over to the jeans section, and proverbially holds my hand while I pick out a new pair.
And boy did she pick a pair.
At the end of this experience, I was told that if I ever wanted to exchange these jeans for any reason-- maybe I get more holes in them; maybe I just get a little thicker in the midsection and they no longer fit-- just bring them in and exchange them.
You can't even get that great of a guarantee on Carharts!!
I am so impressed. Bravo, MEK. You have a customer for life.

Honk Honk!

This morning I was kind of in a groggy mood getting to work. I don't seem to be getting enough rest that my body is requesting, and all these meds I'm taking for my sinus and ear infections makes it even harder to get up in the morning.
So I got in my car to get to work today, and was grumbling about not wanting to go to work.
I got in the left turn lane to head up toward the U, and something was coming up the road to prohibit me from making my turn.
What was it?
(*squint* *squint*)
I sure needed my glasses, but had left them on my kitchen table.
Whatever it was, it was definitely running the red light.
If it was pedestrians, they needed to get out of the middle of the road and use the crosswalk!

Oh.
hee hee.
It made my day a lot better. :-)
Has anyone seen geese this big before in their life?????

Kids Say Darnedest Things, Take 2

On Sunday night, my family and I were digging through our Mount Everest of family pictures boxes. It's fun to do that every now and then. Just look at the pictures and hear everyone's memories from them.
At anyrate, I pulled one picture out, similar to this one, and said that it was one of my favorite pictures of me and my dad. I have many memories of my dad balancing me on his knee.
My nephew Truman exclaimed: I WANNA SEE!!!

So I showed him the picture, and pointed that this was Meme, and that this was PopPop.

"THAT'S PopPop?!" he exclaimed;
"He looks so... New!"

Ode to Mother's

In an earlier post, I made a comment about the upcoming holiday season, and the joy I had of anticipating eating Gingerbread Men.
Well Thanksgiving came and went, and I could not find my Gingers ANYWHERE. I went to probably 12 different store chains trying to find them.
No deal.
So I resorted to trying to order them online. Come to find out, when you google for Mother's Gingerbread Men Cookies, you can find several different news articles about Mother's Cookies, inc. being one of the many businesses to be killed by this woeful economy.
Sigh.
Mother's Cookies was established in 1914. Since that time, I can only imagine the millions of women who, like myself, would derive pleasure from decapitating Ginger Men.
But alas, today's economy has no respect for Centurian companies, or compassion for women who like to release their disdain of Men on baked male-shaped-goods.
So Mother's, with heartfelt appreciation, I bid you adieu.

Holiday... Inn?

Well I just got back from what seemed to be an eternity of traveling. The first week I was in Colorado, and the second week I was in Alabama. After the past two weeks' worth of experiences flying and at airports, I'm pretty much content to never fly again.
Well, I know that's not going to happen. So I just know for at least the next few months, I won't be getting on a plane.
Instead of dwelling on the negatives of 2 airports closing while I was at them, and of 4 or 5 delayed flights, etc., I'm choosing to concentrate on a particular story that makes me all toasty inside... :-)
I was supposed to come home on Tuesday night. Well, due to the Chicago airport closing, I was rerouted to Las Vegas (because there were NO more flights to Salt Lake... even on any other airlines.. crazy). This certain flight was landing in Nashville, where I'd have another layover before Las Vegas. At anyrate, I was flying Southwest were you can pick wherever you want to sit (well, 'wherever you want' meaning almost anywhere, because the front row and the exit rows are always taken...). I chose a seat and was getting settled when a man sitting in front of me was asking the flight attendant some questions about the Las Vegas connection flight. I interjected "OH, are you going to Las Vegas, too??". The man said "oh no, but this lady next to me is, and she's deaf and seems really confused"...
I exclaim: SHE'S DEAF?!?!?!? Omg! I know Sign Langauge!
What are the chances that of all the seats on that plane, I chose to sit right behind this woman who was completely lost.
A complete "WOAH" moment.
Come to find out after chatting with her that she was 32, and had never left Birmingham, AL in her life. This was her first plane ride. How scary!! I get scared flying on planes, even though I have flown HUNDREDS of times, and... I can HEAR!
This lady's name was Michelle, and on the connection flight in Nashville we sat by each other and had a GREAT time. Almost couldn't tell that it was a 5 hour flight!
During the flight, she orderd THREE Jack and Cokes. She would look at me and say she was worried that she looked like an alcoholic. I said No, that she just looked like a nervous flyer. :-)
I asked where she was staying in Las Vegas, and she told me the Venetian. Well, kind of. She couldn't remember the name, but something about Venice and that they had Gondolas... Here comes the other "WOAH" moment. Out of all the tens of thousands of hotels and motels in Las Vegas, there is one that I have a friend that works at as a security guard. Which hotel would that be? Oh, that's right. The Venetian. The only hotel that I had a hook-up that I could call to help out this tired, nervous, and very DRUNK deaf woman. What are the chances??
When I think about the delays and cancellations over the past couple days I start to get a little worked up, but then I think about this lady Michelle, and I don't mean to sound preachy here or anything, but I KNOW I was supposed to meet her and help her, and all the drama with the airlines didn't matter, and that drama is actually what made me meet her.
Merry Freakin Christmas, eh??!

The name's Bond... Meg Bond...

So I was naughty today.
I took an extraordinarily long lunch, and went down to the Gateway and slipped into a matinee showing of Quantum of Solace.
Hola!!
Can I just say that Daniel Craig can just come visit me anytime in that sexy Astin Martin???
I am having an internal struggle right now as to which Bond I'd rather marry... I've been watching the older and newer ones, and I've narrowed it down to either Daniel Craig or Timothy Dalton. HELLO!! I do feel gypped that Timothy only made 2. I hope Daniel doesn't suffer the same fate.
So to celebrate, I'm putting up a new survey, to vote which Bond you like the most...
Bon Apetit!

Yes, I love technology

Of all the inventions over the last... millennium... I cannot even fathom my life without the discovery of the internet.
Some people fear that all that info at your fingertips may be iatrogenic for society (absolute power corrupts?), due to "racy pictures", or what have you. (FYI- I learned the word "Iatrogenic" in a psychology class many years ago. It basically means in a medical field that the treatment did more harm than good, and that the status quo would have been better off without it)...
But I don't care.
Over the last week, my life has been infinitely improved by the world-wide web.
Recently I've been on this vintage kick. I've made a new vintage-inspired dress, I've been listening to the best of Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, and Elle Fitzgerald. And last Sunday I got the idea to try out some vintage hairstyles. So, I saddled up to my friendly little laptop, typed in some words, and VOILA!... Hundreds of how-to hairstyle videos. SO FUN!
Then, I decide that for the first time in my life, I want to try wearing "REAL" make-up... not just the liner and mascara I buy at the check-out stand at the grocery store. So I get foundation and bronzer, and some eye shadow... and one of those crazy eyelash curler things... Anyway, saddle up again and type a few more words, and PRESTO! I'm almost a pro...
But the most recent web-investigation I will be eternally grateful for. For my brother's wedding last year, I bought the most splendid blouse from Arden B to wear. Yes, I splurged on it. But it was worth it. It looked AMAZING! Well, a few months ago, I wore it an got honestly WHO KNOWS WHAT on it. Something maybe chocolate or blood... No Clue. So I take it to a dry cleaner (it's rayon) and they cannot save my shirt. I actually almost shed a tear thinking about having to be rid of my shirt. But before I could say Adeu, I had to give it one last shot. So I rolled up my proverbial sleeves and saddled up one more time. I swear I didn't do as much research on any of my college papers as I did trying to figure out how to get this stain out of a rayon blouse. I tried a concoction of things that still didn't work. And then I stumbled upon one site that said that it might be a "dye stain", and that I'd have to treat it with bleach. I was so nervous. It said to try a little bleach on an inside seam and see if it altered the color. If it didn't, the garment was color-fast (or whatever. I can't remember anymore), and that it was safe to use on the stain. Well HALLE-FREAKIN'-LUJA, I was able to rub some bleach on the stain and after a few minutes of setting, the stain was gone!! I literally danced around my apartment for a good 10 minutes celebrating the resurrection of a most prized blouse.
Thank you, thank you, Technology.

A perpl-EGGS-ing Conundrum

Saturday morning I woke up feeling a little more vibrant than having just my normal couple bowls of cereal for breakfast.

I decided I was going to scramble some eggs.

(Now I am begging for anyone to add any insight whatsoever to the following situation...)

I grab the egg carton out of my midget-size fridge. Open it up and crack the first egg. Looks delicious. Can't wait to cook it.

Grab the second egg and crack it. I crack it. Crack Crack CRACK it. Um. It won't crack. ? I had to peel the shell off. The egg was entirely frozen.

Has anyone in their entire life seen a frozen egg?

So not only did the perplexity of the frozen egg confound me, but then I thought: What's wrong with that one? Why did only that ONE freeze, and not the egg EXACTLY next to it freeze too?

It's not like they were in different fridges or even different cartons.

Is my wussy little half-pint fridge SO non-conducive that it can't even keep eggs decently?

Here's an arial view for your viewing pleasure:

And yes, I did eat it. I didn't care. I'm poor. I figured (hoped) that just the trans-morphing of the egg's property of matter wouldn't compromise the nutritive integrity of it...

Kwik Sew?

Since moving out on my own, I've found my brain deteriorating with lack of conversations and stimulations. Given, it's exactly 2 months till I start grad school and will definitely be OVERstimulated...

At any rate, I decided to fill my time with more productive things than watching every episode available of Family Guy and Cash Cab.

So I decided I'm going to make a new dress.

Supposedly it should be fairly easy. I chose a dress that has no zippers or things like that. It just has one button-up keyhole in the back. I've cut out the pattern and will start sewing tomorrow... Definitely let ya know how progress goes...
Here's what it should look like:^

More memories of Grandma

Ok this is mainly for family. But I wanted to set up a list that you could add comments to of your own memories of grandma.

I'll start:

• "Reddy Kilowatt" lightning bolt men
• Popsicle lights
• Robin eggs in the living room
• Smarties in grandma's underwear drawer
• Sparkly ceilings
• SCARY stuffed animals in the downstairs bedroom
• Petrified Wood
• Butterfly fridge magnets

List some more!