Aunty Cici?

Being home for Christmas has made me think of nicknames. I kind of wish that my family was one to give out nicknames, nice ones, to each other. I'm not saying I want my family to call me "Beefcake", but I always wished I had an aunt CiCi or Tootie or an aunt named Rebecca Anne that everyone called "Rose" for some forgotten reason. I think it sounds affectionate, and well, fun.

I've had a few nicknames throughout my life, but none of them have stuck for more than a few years. I once dated a Cuban guy who gave me all sorts of wondeful and affectionate nicknames: Pelusa, Pelusina, Patacoja, M-sona, and Mamita. I adored the habit (more than the man?) and I will never forget it. But the beauty of a nickname, and of nicknaming, is that it has to come naturally.

Beefcake?

I made a new friend recently, and one of the things we have in common is an interest in the WWF as a youngster. (Don't ask!) As we were conversing with each other, the common theme of wrestling kept coming up. We talked about all the old wrestlers like Supafly Jimmy Snooka and Ravishing Rick Rude. You know the ones! In a later conversation, this friend said that he was suggesting someone purchase a hedge clippers for their father for a Christmas present, and subsequently thought of another wrestler named Brutus "the barber" Beefcake, and finally thought of me.

"Wow," I replied, "I've never been associated with Brutus Beefcake before. Not even close."

And, thus, somehow I've been dubbed the wholly unfeminine "Beefcake." Ick. What a nickname. Also, hilarious! This friend writes to me in an email, "Not cool, Beefcake, not cool." Hee! It makes me laugh.

A Word to the Wise, Young, Single Men Out There...

Don't take this the wrong way...

Well, let me specify that this is not directed to anyone in particular, (you know, it's NOT one of those passive-aggressive blog posts favored by the tech-savvy hipsters to communicate frustration with each other) but rather a trend I've noticed in my dating travels about single men in their 20s and 30s. In fact, I'm seriously concerned about the straight men of my generation! I've met some awesome guys this year. Guys who I definitely appreciate more now than I would have 5 years ago - they are funny, smart, kind, have stable jobs, interesting ambitions, etc. etc. Only, they need to lose about 20-30 lbs., and stop smoking!

Since so many people are single longer, there is a different kind of responsibility for a person living alone to take care of their own health. Not to say that just because people are married or in a couple that they necessarily take better care of themselves. But, unlike other demographics, most straight guys do not face the same pressures as women or gay men to keep their looks and health together. (And don't even start about the "metrosexual" thing. That's bullshit and affects about 2% of the population - all stockbrokers or whatever.)

But, I'm talking about that guy who has all his hair, and is a bit of a diamond "in the rough" because of his weight. Maybe the guy has been single for awhile, had a few bad relationships, or are a little shy around the ladies. So, they kind of "give up" about their appearance. Or they don't want to do the hairless, prettyboy thing, which, thank god! But boys, that doesn't mean you should let it go all together! Get to the gym! Eat some veggies! It's genetics, fellas! Take better care of your health and the gals will come to you!

California Knows How to Party

I sent in a graduate school application yesterday to a certain school in California. Whoo-whoo! One more to go before the holidays, and then I'm cruising on the holiday party tip!

Cocktail Wieners in the Crockpot

So a friend and I are hosting a work-related party tomorrow, and we decided to make those magically delicious cocktail wieners that sit in the crockpot. When they are served at parties, they are super tasty and disappear much more quickly than anything with, say, spinach in it. Of course the special ingredient is the delicious sauce. A little research revealed many different concoctions for the sauce which included varieties of the following ingredients:
- grape jelly or currant jelly
- cocktail sauce or chili sauce
- ketchup and/or mustard
- bourbon
- brown sugar

Finding this variety of recipes was no easy matter. Apparently, cocktail wieners in the crockpot is too low brow for epicurious.com. Hee! But since the recipes varied so widely, and since it was difficult to use a cook's intuition to evaluate the different recipes (um, grape jelly and cocktail sauce? how could that possibly be good???), I had to consult an expert. Conference with my mother revealed her grandmother's recipe:

"Oh, DEFINITELY currant jelly. And, um, chili sauce that would be in like a ketchup-type bottle. And, you know, the cocktail wieners."

Jobim's Magic Number

Against my better judgement, I must post about my awesome date last night! I went out with a kind man, and a good dancer to boot! Yo, I don't want to sound egotistical, but it is hard to find a guy that can match me on the dance floor. I'm usually happy if the guy will go out on the dance floor at all. Seriously! But, with a nice dinner and a little Brazilian Jobim tribute music, a little magic can happen. Hee!

Jams I Get My Obsession On

Better late than never I succumbed to the iTunes temptation and downloaded some songs. Unfortunately for my coworkers, this means I can exercise my innate ability to obsess on certain jams, especially R&B/Neo-soul jams. (Past roommates can attest to this fatal flaw - that is probably why I now live by myself.) Obsessing on a jam is one of those things that seems normal, but becomes totally embarrassing as soon as anyone else is around. I kind of laugh to myself when one of my coworkers pass my office on the way to the printer and says to him/herself, "Shit, she's listening to Janet's 'That's the Way Love Goes', again?!?"

But of course, they are too polite to say anything to me directly. Too bad for them~!

So Janet's the jam of the day/week (7 times today).
Past obsessions include:

• TLC's "Creep" (53 times on iTunes - thank god for that counter)

• Thom Yorke's "Black Swan" (33 times)

• Jane's Addition's "Summertime Rolls" (a mere 13 times)

Whoop-whoop, I did fine on the GRE!

It's over! It's finally over! I've been agonizing over taking the GRE for like two years! I took the test yesterday after a few weeks of studying and my score was higher than my practice tests. So, yay! I was happy about that. My score was fine!

Getting over that huge obstacle makes me able to focus on my grad school applications again. I've turned in one grad school application so far, and I'll turn in one or two more next week. Then another two in January. I'm applying to two schools on the west coast, two on the east coast, and one in Chicago. It's fun (especially this time of year) to dream about being in another place with a better climate doing something totally different.

Test Stamina Is a Learned Skill

Two more days until I take the GRE. It has been so long since I've taken such a test, and I'm nervous! I've been holed up in my semi-cold apartment practicing math questions, reviewing vocab, writing "i-just-pulled-this-out-of-my-ass" issue arguments. What a weekend.

I'm also trying to rack my brain for "test smart" aids from my college days. One friend told me that eggs are brain food, and that you should eat eggs before an exam. Hmm... better get some. Also, I took a Chinese massage class in college once where the teacher said you should press on this one spot on your head each day. He said it would make you smarter. Maybe he just wanted to know who in the class was gullible? But whatever, I totally press on the spot each day. Also, I read in Malcolm Gladwell's "Blink" that people that visualize themselves as successful and smart right before a test do better than people that visualize themselves doing sports right before a test. Huh?! Well, I might as well try that too...

Gold Tinsel! I Got Gold Tinsel!

I think I got the Christmas spirit because I had to buy this Christmas tree today. There is a little tree lot at the end of my block, so I just went ahead and got this lil' adorable 4 footer. Just in time before the snowstorm...

And the Topper...

Best $13 I ever wasted...
I saw this tree topper at the store and I could not stop laughing...
It's totally tackily awesome and beautiful!

No Pilot Light, But at Least I'm Not Dead

The work is being done in my basement to decentralize the gas utilities. Yesterday, the gas was turned off and when it was turned back on, the workers didn't relight the pilot light. I woke this morning to the delicious smell of gas permeating my kitchen. Whoops. It was supposed to be taken care of today. Maybe someday, I'll have lower gas bills and a non-toxic apartment.

Most Environmental Activity of Late: I Darned My Socks

I am kind of particular about the socks I wear, and I have had a consistent problem when my favorite socks wear down: the big toe area gets a hole in it before the rest of the sock wears out.

For shame, I threw some of these toe-hole socks away because my toe would start to stick out and get cold. As I threw them away, I thought: "what a waste." And I would also wonder, "why doesn't anyone darn socks? what does it mean to darn socks? is that from a Charles Dickens novel or what?"

A quick internet search turned up:
mend: sewing that repairs a worn or torn hole (especially in a garment)

But typical of definitions, it doesn't tell you how to do it. In my mind, darning socks actually involved knitting or crocheting tiny threads to actually weave a new fabric over the area of the hole. Who has time for that?

Then I realized, "there's no darning police. there's no one here who will say my darning method is wrong." So, I just sewed up the hole by stitching one side to the other side. And you know what? It looks fine. And technically, I darned it.

My new ability to darn my toe-holes has saved several pairs of socks from the trash barrel, and has made me feel like my personal policies are more environmentally sustainable since my socks now last a little longer.

Making Friends on the CTA

I had to take a CTA bus to meet up with my Thanksgiving ride on Wednesday of last week. I met some really nice and outgoing people on the bus.

As you know from this blog, I love to eavesdrop in public places. The public conversation on the bus was a good one. I was sitting near the back of the bus and kind of listening to these two guys talking about the high corruption at the Salvation Army. Apparently, they just spent a bunch of money buying mansions for their executives in the suburbs. According to the bus passenger, the execs, and even the employee of the month, drive extremely fancy cars like Hummers, Bentleys, etc. Haven't you seen all those fancy cars in the parking lots? Etc. This guy really had a flair for the dramatic and it was great!

During this conversation, I was sitting in my bus seat, and there was a handsome young guy at the bus door, well-dressed and well-coiffed, who was apprently giving me the eye. When he got off the bus, Mr. Salvation Army was going on and on about how the guy was oogling me and how he should have just said 'hi' instead of staring and how I probably thought he was a sexual predator since he was staring so much but how he might of had a chance if he just said 'hi', etc. etc. He got so extreme with the conversation until I finally had to turn around and acknowledge the discussion.

"Yeah," I said, "he was a cutie. He should have said hi."

This illicited laughter and an enthusiastic, "See! She said he was a cutie! He could have had a chance! Guys don't know how to say 'hi' anymore. Times have changed where sometimes the woman can speak first but some guys don't like it and think the woman is fast, etc. etc."

Another guy on the bus who was sitting with his girlfriend said, "Well, she hollared at me first," and gave his girlfriend a big kiss on the lips.

The conversation went on from there, and Mr. SA and his friends were teasing me about my big suitcase for my short trip and all kinds of other stuff. But it was a friendly and fun exchange that started a great holiday weekend.

But Seriously, A Real Reason to Give Thanks: Lower Gas Bills

Over the past 4 months, I've been in a stressful disagreement with my landlord over the utility set-up in my apartment building. Luckily, it is almost resolved, with an actual end to the problem finally in sight on November 29.

Last year, with the super-spike in gas prices after Hurricane Katrina, my gas bills were between $150-190 during the winter months. The insanely high prices tipped me off that something was wrong with my utility set up, and I received confirmation of this after checking with my downstairs neighbors. (They live in a similar sized apartment, bigger actually, and their bills maxed out at $100/month at the worst.)

While trying to figure out what was happening, I talked to my landlord about it. He denied that there was any problem, blamed me (do you cook a lot? take a lot of showers?), but eventually agreed to give me a small credit of a 25% discount on one month last year. As my utility bills stayed sky-high, I called many non-profit agencies around town that claimed to be energy experts - no one could help. The gas company wouldn't help me either. I was at loose ends and discovered that the dryer to the building was hooked onto my gas utility line. I couldn't find any hard numbers to find out what this was costing me, but my landlord offered to give me "half the quarters" from the coin-op laundry that I was paying the utilities for. I was outraged.

I found out that my summer gas bills, about $50-60/month far exceeded my downstairs neighbors, who were paying $10/month. Because I felt so outraged, and because I felt like my landlord was [not a very nice person], I was planning to move out of the apartment this summer. However, since I liked the actual apartment so much, I told the landlord I would stay in the apartment if only the utilities were metered separately in the basement. I wasn't asking for special treatment, just to pay my fair share instead of paying for a lot of extra people to use the dryer and god knows what else. Various other situations made it difficult for me to move, and the landlord ended up agreeing to meter the utilities separately. He said he would do this during the month of September.

September came and went. So did October. At the end of October, I was feeling furious and betrayed. I sent several letters requesting the work to be done and also for some additional winterizing in my apartment. After I sent a certified letter with my November rent, I finally saw some work happening around the house. The good news is, I ran into my landlord last night, and he mentioned that all the work has been done to rewire the utilities, and that the meter will be installed on November 29. Three months late, but I am so relieved and happy that it is finally happening. This was a mental stressor to me for months and months, and I'm so glad to see a resolution.

It's Thanksgiving; time to give thanks for small favors.

Sometimes I feel despondent about not being all snuggly in a couple (see previous post.)

However, yesterday I realized that things could be worse.

At the gym, there was a young woman a few elllipticals machines away from me. She was obviously there with her fella - a guy who was jogging, but mostly walking around the track. Each time he came around the track (maybe 15 times) he would clap and say rather loudly, "Doing good, hon! You're doing great!" (Clap! Clap!)

How obnoxious! And how patronizing. I mean, she's working out on a machine for 20 minutes, not giving birth! Does she really need that much encouragement? I was embarrassed on her behalf.

How to Break Up With Your Man - Holiday Edition

It's Thanksgiving week, which means the depressing holidays are here. I'm not saying that all holidays are depressing, but some of the obligatory social events can be rather unpalatable, especially as a single woman of a certain age. I was talking with some guy friends at lunch about it today - one married, two in LTRs - and complaining about our work Christmas party.

The place where I work is small - maybe 10 people - and all but 2 are married. In past years, we had a jolly lunch with our colleagues, and then cut out early in the afternoon. This year, a coworker is hosting a Christmas dinner party on Friday night at his/her home. There are several things wrong with this scenario:

1) it does not occur during work hours
2) it implies a much longer time obligation
3) significant others/spouses are invited*

"Well, surely you can bring a guest?" my friends inquired.

I could bring a guest. But, let's face it, is there a faster road to getting dumped than to take a fledging love interest to a work Christmas party? "Hi, everyone. This is Frank. We met online last week on Match.com? He likes traveling, and dog-racing. I think we're meant to be!" Attendance at the office Christmas party definitely requires some kind of pre-determined loyalty, and also probably an agreement of reciprocity that you must attend the other person's Christmas party too. And, you probably owe the person a phat-ass Christmas gift.

For this year's party, I'm considering following in the footsteps of Borat, and perhaps inviting a male escort as my guest. "Hey, ya'll, this is my guy Tito. Oh, you haven't heard me talk about him. Um, isn't he hot and muscular?" At least that would keep it interesting.

*Although, I think the party would actually be better if all the spouses attended. I really like all of my coworkers' spouses. It's purely for selfish reasons of not being part of a couple.

The Blog Crossroads

I've been remiss to put anything of substance on my blog for quite a while now. You know why? Because I think it would probably be a case of TMI. I've been so emotional for the past few months that anyone around me, and probably the only people that check this blog, hear enough about it. You know? I mean, you know who you are, people! (Oh, and thanks for being there for me! Love ya!)

But, do I want to write anything about the new James Bond movie that I saw last weekend? Or the crappy "gotcha" scene in Sucker Bet where some dude puts an alligator in some other dude's car and jumps out when dude's holding a raw steak?! No.

I think I'm at the proverbial Blogger crossroads (1 year later) where I feel like I need to reimagine my blog. Or end it.

"Sucker Bet" update.

Man, this book is corny!

There was a scene when the some crooks try to scare off a detective by putting an alligator in his trunk an a raw steak in the passenger seat. The alligator busts through the back seat to get the steak, and the 60-year old Italian detective uses a judo move to stun the alligator. Uh-huh.

Cold Weather Reading

It's that time of year where the weather gets cold and people retreat indoors. In my view, it is the perfect time to read detective novels and sci-fi novels, both silly and noir. Today I picked up "Sucker Bet" from the library. Whoo-hoo! It starts out in a casino with a "mark" that is being lured to a blackjack table by a red-headed prostitute named "Candy Hart." Ha!

Also, I picked up Percival Everett's "Zulus." This is the line in the cover text that got me,

"Zulus is set amidst the eerie landscape and society that has emerged years after the occurrence of a thermonuclear war, where Alice Achitophel, a 300-pound governement clerk and misfit, has a well-kept secret: she is, perhaps, the last woman alive who is not sterile." Hee!