Yesterday was my brother’s “Too Fine to be 29(th)” Birthday. Happy Birthday. He spent it at a family party next to my evil aunt. What could top that? Whoot.

I’m in my too lazy to cook and fuss in the kitchen mode. I’m conserving my energy for my apartment since there is no mom there to cook for me. Weep weep weep. I did do some more shopping. My Discover card is going to send me flowers soon.

I leave for Texas in 6 days. I am sad.

Here are three (out of a gajillion) ways to annoy me.

1) Email me and tell me that you’d like me and of course my 250 coworkers back to work on August 20th at 8am. This doesn’t bother me, in fact, I look forward to it. What bothers me is this: there isn’t really any place to park OR any way to enter the building at this point due to delayed construction. And while we are on the topic of construction- the new part, the part that I will be working in, actually hasn’t been built yet. I love these emails because they end with, I hope you all had a restful summer. I did have a restful summer, so restful, that I haven’t planned very much and apparently I’m not alone. But really, turns out, there is no need to plan. There isn’t a place to work yet.

2) Another school email. This one is from the copy lady (not her official title) telling us to please not expect to use the copiers when we return to work. Garhuf? We, as a people, teachers, are the biggest wasters of paper on the face of the earth. We make copies of EVERYTHING. Two out of three of the copiers were broken at the end of last semester, two months ago mind you, and they still aren’t fixed. I can believe that. It was probably hard to come in and fix the copiers when there is not an entrance. I guess instead of making copies of paperwork, I’ll just memorize everything and repeat myself 3,000 times. C’mon people, I need to waste paper. I feel it in my blood. It’s like a calling. (Again, I learned to not plan from watching people like the copy lady.)

and 3) My landlord called today, on behalf of my slightly irate mail person. She said that if I don’t come clean out my mailbox today, my mail will be lost. Lost? As in, you throw it out? I don’t think you can do that. I told her that I’ve been in New York for two months and that I did, indeed forward my mail and receive a confirmation from the Post Office that they would do their part and actually forward the mail. The mail person then said that she never got that notice. Well somebody did, they may have not personally informed you, but I am getting some mail. I’m getting bills. We finally agreed, like this is some type of compromise on behalf of the post office, that they will not actually “lose” my mail (read: federal offense) but keep it at the post office until I will pick it up in two weeks.

I bet you that mail person is sitting on her couch right now enjoying my “lost” magazines.

I love when the wind or a/c blows, into my eye, and dries my contacts into hard little discs in about .043 seconds. The burning, it’s nice. The crazy blinking that follows is also fun. And that’s all I have because soon, Joel Madden will be on Good Morning America and I need to get dressed and ready to see my mans.

This chicken was described, by the person who created the recipe, as the BEST CHICKEN EVER. It was good, not the best and it took forever to grill.

The recipe:

Split and flatten a whole chicken with skin. *next time, I would just buy chicken pieces with the skin on to speed up the grilling process. Marinate the chicken in a mixture of olive oil, paprika, oregano and salt and pepper. I also put freshly minced garlic under the skin, which was slightly gross. I had to pull back pieces of skin and shove the garlic in. It was sort of like those face lifts on the tv that I love to watch, with my eyes closed. Anyway, after that sits for a few hours, you throw it on the grill over low medium heat because olive oil starts fires. The original recipe says grill for 30 minutes. If we had followed those directions, we’d be dead. While we 90 waited minutes for the chicken to cook, I made a mixture of freshly squeezed lemon juice,olive oil, salt, pepper and fresh parsley. (I then put the lemons on the grill to make them pretty.) I then stuck the mixture in the microwave for 30 seconds and then poured it over the chicken- after it came off the grill. Then voila, we ate it.

I had been anticipating the BEST CHICKEN EVER and I think that’s why I was slightly disappointed. So, refer to this as a mediocre, time consuming chicken dish and you’ll swoon at the flavors. I think the long grilling time made it slightly dry so stick to pieces if you make it.

Since I have so much time on my hands these days, I get the chance to read celebrity gossip and I love me some celebrity gossip. Nicole Richie is four months prego with my boyfriend, Joel Madden’s baby. BIOTCH. Also, Barbara Walters announces the two new co-hosts on The View, TOMORROW. I’m hoping for Whoopie Goldberg (Jewish?) and Oprah. I know Oprah isn’t in the running but I still think she should be on the view. She’s a little too holier than thou on her show and it’s old. I swear, if she feels the need to talk about her #2s with Dr. Oz one more time, I’m sending her a death threat.

Winona Ryder’s character, in Reality Bites, lost her job and became depressed. She stayed in her pajamas all day, chain smoked and made friends with a clairvoyant from the Psychic Friends Network. After racking up a $400 phone bill, her roommate, played by Janeane Garafalo, intervened and told her she was “in the bell jar”. That was a long explanation for a title. I’m in the bell jar except I didn’t lose my job, I don’t chain smoke, call 1-900 numbers or wear my pajamas. You see the correlation, right? But I lack energy. I am going back to Texas on the 11th and I’m slightly sad about it which will turn into off the deep end, hysterically upset as the day grows closer. I blame the lack of energy on an upcoming emotional breakdown. I write To-Do lists at night, for the next day, in hopes that my cycle of utter laziness will end. Here’s today’s pathetic list: 1) go through photos and store, 2) transfer prescriptions to Target and take advantage of $4 generics before my health care plan ups it’s fees, September 1st, so much that I’ll have to cut out dog food altogether from my budget and feed him nothing but bologna and microwaved popcorn, 3) return two pairs of shoes that I purchased during a retail therapy day followed by attending a shopper’s bulimia meeting and 4) go to the best store in Elmira- The Bargain Hut where they sell cool vintage clothing and hope they have a pair of beat in knee length, flat heeled boots in size 8. I really don’t know how I’ll get ALL OF THIS done by tonight. It’s going to be tough.

Let the randomness begin: Hadles is all better, however. He has developed some bad habits while being spoiled in New York that need to be addressed when his mouth isn’t full of cat litter or worse, one of my mother’s cats. Yesterday, I saw one of my nieces who is four months old. Or, if you are a crazy baby mother, exactly 17 weeks. By the way, I’m 1,427 weeks old, 64 inches long and I sleep through the night. My mom is proud. Every time someone comes near me with a baby, they inevitably hand it over to me. I’m not one of those women that coos over babies and has the development chart memorized. I really have no concept of when a baby should do anything. I just freely diagnose autism because I believe we are all on that spectrum- but that’s for another time. I lose interest in babies quickly. And I came to terms with the fact that I am not meant to have a baby, ever. If I want children, it will have to be when I’m much older and have entirely changed my genetic makeup. Or, I will have to adopt a child around the age of five. So let this be a message to all people with babies- don’t hand it to me. Or cats. Just give me puppies or money.

On to my demanding To Do list. Get’em girl, get’em.

Yesterday Hadley hurt his leg while he was outside playing. Hadley plays in two ways: 1) with me, in an organized ‘I throw the ball until he drops from exhaustion in front of me and loses all interest in ball chasing.’ and 2) alone, where he acts like he is on some type of hallucinogenic. He chases the wind, the flies, anything he can. He does lap after lap after lap after lap around my parents yard in an insane pattern. He digs holes and kills plants. On our way out to a graduation party for my cousin, I let him in and my mom noticed he was limping. She has A LOT of experience with dogs and when I say A LOT, I mean more than anyone in the entire world. So, after we tried to diagnose him on our own- he started acting more strange. I let him out again to see if he would run and he laid down in the grass and wouldn’t get up. I picked him up, barely I might ad, and carried him back up into the house. I called the emergency vet and got him in. I took him in and she told me two things: 1) it was his hip and (and he’s up to 54 pounds!) he may have hip dysplasia and 2) he’s a very good dog (which I already knew.) So, she recommended pain medicine and if it got worse, bring him back for x-rays. You mean I don’t need to spend hundreds of dollars today? Are you kidding? I don’t think I’ve ever not been taken advantage of by a vet. It was nice. I brought him home and he got in my bed and wouldn’t budge. He just laid there with me and let me snuggle all up in his space for a few hours. It was so great because usually he’ll only lay near me if I swear to not touch him. We can brush against each other once in a while but there will be no spooning or petting when he’s pretending to be asleep. Sometimes I can’t help myself and end up pissing him off until he sighs, as dramatically as a dog can, and gets off the bed and sleeps on the floor. He picks the floor over snuggling. Fool. Anyway, while we snuggled I googled hip dysplasia and realized that the cost of the surgery is enormous and of course painful for Hadles. And yes, I would definitely do it. No questions asked.

I started to feel stressed and so I did the only thing an intelligent person who knows what financial problems she will have if her dog needs surgery would do: I went shopping. And it helped me to destress. After I got home from shopping and going to see No Reservations, with my mom, Hadley was back to normal. He was no longer limping which is good since I spent some of his surgery money. He seems to be all better but that still doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have hip dysplasia- I still need x-rays to determine that. But he’s ok now and that makes us all feel better, even Aunt Nancy and Uncle Matt who I’m sure called doggy protective services and tried to get custody of him. Aww…Mr. Hadles McFaddles Honey Buns.

My brother told me that I look like Mo Rocca.Which is alright with me since he is FINES.

I made a few things:

Since I’m pretty sure I do not possess the patience to operate a sewing machine- this will have to be the next best thing.

Now I must get back to being on hold for the longest amount of time EVER thanks to the NY State Department of Education. This is all to ensure I have next summer off too.

New ipod shuffle (thanks to the stuff I sold on ebay.)

New LG Chocolate Mint Blue phone (thanks to the “there is no way out of a Verizon contract even when you die 2 year “free” upgrade plan”.)

Since I’m on a bare bones budget in order to beef up my savings and pay off my debt, it’s nice to buy new things without actually exchanging any cash or swiping any cards.

Mama loves me.

Tonight I am making roasted brussel sprouts and my one meal that always impresses people: the onion tart. I’ll post pictures and a recipe at some point.

Edit: My dad took one look at the onion tart recipe and said “NO!”. Instead, I made pasta with roasted tomatoes, parmesan, basil, garlic and breadcrumbs. My family isn’t exactly the type to try new foods. They tend to stick to the same tried and true meals which I think has something to do with my dad’s resistance to change. Hrmph. I don’t think he was particularly fond of it. It turned out better the first time I made it, which might have something to do with the fact that I originally used mini penne and today I used rigatoni. Does it really make a difference? Eh, I’ll find out the next time I get a craving for basil.

Since I arrived in New York, in June, I feel like I have eaten in a celebratory fashion of desserts at every meal. I came here -7 pounds and I think I’m leaving with those 7 original lost pounds plus 5 more. This gene pool and lack of self control when it comes to anything contained chocolate or salt is frustrating. My mom and I made a pact to walk every day. We walked, once. I walked three other times, twice at my sister’s house and once here. At some point this summer, during my hours of boredom, I researched the proper workouts for my body type (hourglass). The hourglass body type needs cardio and high repetition, low resistance during exercise. This is great since when I used to belong to the Y, I was addicted to body pump classes which were basically low reps, high resistance. I do enjoy bike riding but I lack anonymity where I live and that’s something I need to be comfortable exercising. So, I purchased a pilates video and plan to do it. I hope that I enjoy it and stick with it. I used to do the ball/yoga video but then my ball started leaking air and I stopped. I didn’t mind the elliptical in my apartment’s gym- what you have a private gym on the premises? YES. I do. I did mind the other people in the room and my bulky, fossil-like cd walkmen. Oh yes. I bought an ipod shuffle to remedy this. Now, I have 1) a hyper large breed dog that needs plenty of exercise and I already walk him several times a day, in Texas, 2) a pilates video to do at home where no one can see me, 3) an ipod shuffle to listen to as I work out on the elliptical or on long walks with my dog who isn’t much of a talker and 4) duct tape to fix my leaking ball. That’s four easy opportunity to fit exercise in on a daily basis. Should be easy, right? I don’t eat dessert in my own space either so that will help.

Here’s to exercise and healthier eating habits!