Archive for the 'PMOH' Category

If I Were Pointing At It You’d Know

Auntie wanted to know how I make my fried rice so I posted the recipe for her. And for you, of course! I would never forget you! It is quite good but, really, it’s seasoned rice in a bowl. So, you know.

It was beautiful this weekend and that was particularly great news because my sister and her girlfriend came to visit. We put on our tour guide hats and hit D.C. Here, I have proof!

We didn’t know this picture was being taken, as evidenced by me adjusting my sunglasses. It still turned out to be a pretty good picture of both of us, so far be it from me to post another, posed picture. This blog is really all about making myself look as good as possible, right?

When we were kids everyone thought we were twins but now I think I look more like our mom and she looks more like our dad. Definitely can see the sister resemblance though, no? Of course, she’s taller and has a cuter nose. And also prettier fingers. But I do a better job applying make up and tweezing my eyebrows SO THERE.

I’m not actually pointing as his penis although I’m quite aware that it surely seems that way. Even the expression on my face is like “heh heh. Penis.” Also, that’s not a tear in the sweater, it’s a thumb hole. I borrowed the sweater from April’s girlfriend because I was cold. Because I’m always cold.

So that was our day. Lots of walking and penis pointing.

Today it’s going to be 90 degrees and I’m still trying to figure out how to finagle (really? I spelled that right the first time?) working from home for the afternoon. It’s really just kind of cruel to be inside when it’s that nice out, dontcha think?

Shipping Up To Boston

We made it up to Boston this past weekend, a success especially considering that the last time we tried that we ended up with The Weekend of Fail.

I’m interrupting this post to say: I know he’s an Iron Chef and all, but nothing that Bobby Flay makes looks good to me.

Anyway, Thursday night we were here:

Fenway

and it was an absolute blast. Aside from the fact that Fenway is the fucking shit, I think the amazingly good time had something to do with the fact that we were with these kick ass people:

April and Paige

Oh yeah, and this guy may have had something to do with that as well.

Hug

You think?

Friday we went to see his grandfather and after lunch I managed to get lost when I went to get the car while they waited out front for me. In my defense, the streets of Marblehead were formed by cows and, dude, they are NOT on a grid. I was on a one way street and two blocks up from the restaurant and you’d think that making three lefts would get me back there but, sadly, no, that did not work. I finally made it back and we all laughed at my expense and, whatever. It was vacation and warm enough for them to be outside until I got back.

Friday night we partied with the Herd and can you believe that we didn’t take a single picture of that evening? I can’t either. I assure you that I was a great time.

Saturday morning was a bit of a cluster fuck and it’s not worth the story about why, but let’s just say that I was supposed to meet my mother for breakfast, making it the first time I’ve seen her in six years and she couldn’t make it but, oh, don’t you worry, she made up for it later. It was a weird day.

Lunch at my aunt’s was great even though we didn’t get to girl chat like we normally would have and Saturday evening I was asleep on the couch by 9:00. I’m wild like that.

We left Sunday morning without any trouble and had the dogs licking our faces by 4. I threw some chicken in the crockpot so we’d have something to eat this week because the fridge is bare after a weekend sans trip to the grocery store.

I temped one pathetic day this week and have a few hours for Thurs but that’s it. The lack of paycheck is getting old. Very, very old. And I’ve finally sold the last of anything valuable that I had – pulled it out of the safe and off it went. At least I’ll be able to pay my rent for another three months with the money.

Ok, I know you want to see one more:

P and A Sox game

The Weekend Of FAIL

Let me tell you about my weekend. The weekend that was supposed to be spent in Massachusetts, with the Herd. The weekend that was supposed to be the first trip that HP and I took together. The weekend of FAIL.

A cab picked us up Thursday at 5:10 for our 6:45 flight (the airport is about 3 miles away), we arrived with plenty of time, checked our bags and headed to the gate. The boards indicated that the flight was on time and we thought we had a big win because our gate was directly across from the bar. We sat and had a drink, watching the board which kept saying that the flight was on time. At about 5:45 we noticed that they weren’t showing our flight listed at the gate anymore and, assuming we had a gate change (how cute of us!), HP went to check the board to get the new gate information. The flight was canceled because of bad weather in Boston. We saw the line growing for customer service as everyone was trying to get rescheduled on the next flight. So we looked at the board to see when the next flight was (10:00 that night) and went directly to that gate. The gentleman there explained that the flight was full and there were already 20 people on the standby list.  Fuck that noise. We re-booked on the next available flight – Friday afternoon at 12:15.

We went down to baggage claim (because we had checked our bags) and asked for our bags to be pulled so they wouldn’t go to Boston, we wanted to have our stuff that night. The woman said ok but it would take a couple hours, to come back at about 10. We took a cab home and drank a bottle of wine, chuckling at our crazy misfortune, changing the arrangements with the dog sitter, rental car company, and lunch plans with my family for Friday. We figured out how to cram in all of our original visits in a shorter period of time and had a few more drinks. Then we called another cab to come get us to go back to the airport to get our bags…which never got pulled and were already in Boston.

That was a frustrating conversation with the same woman who personally took our information and promised to have our bags pulled. She explained “sometimes they don’t get the message.” And then HP punched her in the face. Metaphorically, of course.

So another cab ride home, feeling frustrated, but whatever right? Friday morning we got up and went to CVS to buy makeup for me and a toothbrush for him. We showered and got ready, this time driving ourselves to the airport. All online information said the flight was on time, everything was good to go.

We got to the gate (right next to the one from the night before), still said on time, and grabbed some lunch and a drink at the bar. Then we heard the announcement that our plane was supposed to come from Chicago, which was having weather problems. We were delayed. Then delayed again, then delayed again. Finally we got in line for customer service to find out just what was going on- there were about 15 people in front of us. All of a sudden they announced that flight was also canceled! Then about 60 people flooded customer service behind us. Took another hour or so to get through the line. Next flight out: Saturday. We were supposed to leave Sunday morning. So we bagged the whole trip, they refunded our money.

Now we had to deal with our bags that were in Boston already. Customer service sent us back down to baggage claim (where we had experienced such competence the night before!) We had to fill out a form to put in a formal request to have them flown back. At this point we were pretty much losing it – it was about 3 in the afternoon and were OVER being at the airport. We were told they’d call us when the bags arrived and we’d have to come back to Dulles baggage  claim to get them. We made bets on how many days it would be before we saw any of our belongings again.

We finally left the airport paying for our parking ticket inside at the machine (like you’re supposed to), waited for a shuttle to take us to the truck, and got in exhausted. As we were attempting to exit I put the paid ticket in at the exit gate and it said “processing error”. I tried again. It said “processing error”. I tried one more time and this time the machine just laughed at me and gave me the finger. At this point there was a line of cars behind us and the gate won’t open. We had to get everyone to back up so we could go through the booth with the person. The guy retrieved my ticket and took 15 minutes to figure it out, never saying a single word to us. We just sat there stewing in what was becoming a mounting rage of frustration. Finally the gate opened, I screamed out of there (hitting the curb on the way out, oops) and drove in silence on the way to the mall so HP could get a clean shirt.

Done with the mall, we finally headed home.

At this point in the day my realtor has been calling me for the past six hours leaving messages that there’s an URGENT piece of paper that MUST be signed and faxed back TODAY. When we get back from the mall I log into my email and look at the form. It’s one release form (that I’ve signed a billion times). But…my printer is broken. I can’t print it. I call the realtor and she explains that THE PLANET WILL EXPLODE IF YOU DO NOT SIGN AND FAX THIS PAPER TOOOOODAAAAYYYYY. THE FATE OF HUMANITY RESTS ON THE SIGNING OF THIS RELEASE FORM.

Defeated, I went to Staples and bought a printer. I was not polite to the check out clerk who left me waiting at the register for 10 minutes. I finally got the printer home and took it out of the box so I could set it up and save the world by printing my release form.

The printer is missing a piece.

And then I died.

You’ll be proud to learn that I never curled into fetal position and cried for my mommy. Instead, I downloaded the form onto a jump drive, took it to Kinkos, printed it, signed it, faxed it.

While I was there I got a call that our luggage had arrived at the airport (it’s about 9:00 now). I got home, we showered and got dressed for dinner and a movie and decided to go pick up the luggage after that.

We went to dinner and then headed across the street to the movie theater. The theater had a blown speaker that crackled all through the previews. Someone went to complain to management and returned saying that they claimed it would be fixed for the movie.

The movie starts and we immediately learn that they “fixed” the blown speaker by turning off the surround sound so the sound is only coming from the front speakers. MOVIE THEATER FAIL. We got a refund and went to pick up our luggage.

Then we went home and drank more.

You might be pleased to learn that the rest of the weekend was actually pretty great. We returned the printer, went shooting, went to see the movie at a different theater, got in a great workout at the gym, and met up with my cousin and aunt for dinner.

Perhaps later I will tell you some tales from people watching at the airport, but for now I’m simply exhausted just re-counting that tale.

The Weekend Of Pure Awesome

This weekend, people. This weekend was the weekend of pure awesome. All awesome, all the time.

Well, maybe not awesome Friday night when I was throwing up in my new boyfriend’s bathroom exclaiming “I’m dying!!” but three things about that: 1. He wasn’t technically my boyfriend at the time. Not for another 10 hours or so, 2. I don’t actually remember exclaiming “I’m dying” but…yeah, that sounds like me, and 3. It didn’t actually effect the rest of the weekend. Weee!

So Friday night I may have accidentally consumed beer, and then wine, and then switched back to beer. I also hadn’t eaten all that much because of the whole “trying to be hot and sexy” thing. And then possibly I got unintentionally drunk and, hence, the vomiting mentioned above. But that’s enough of that.

Saturday I finally became a tourist in DC. Despite the fact that I’ve lived in northern Virginia for almost three years now, I’d never actually seen any of the monuments or memorials or museums. The day started at the Washington Monument, then the World War II Memorial. We passed by the White House (I saw the White House! Finally! Front and back!) had lunch at Capitol City Brewing Company, realized that there’s a lot of fossilized feces on display at the Museum of Natural History and also that I had a blister forming on my foot. And also, I think fossils are really fucking cool.

Oh year, and I also managed to officially find myself in a relationship. A real relationship. With, like, a boyfriend and stuff. An awesome boyfriend. A really, bitchin’ boyfriend. I told him that I think he’s the bees’ knees. Pure awesome. PURE AWESOME.

So my new boyfriend, aka “HP”, was my tour guide and a couple of my favorite moments of the weekend won’t make any sense, but I have to document them somewhere and this seems as good a place as any:

-Taking pictures of the bank
-“What, Babe? What did Easton say?”
-Going to the gym this morning
-On the metro: “mmmm hmmmmmm”

I can’t remember the last time I laughed as hard as I laughed this weekend. I can’t remember the last time I had as much fun hanging around the house on a Saturday night. And I can’t remember the last time I felt so unbelievably happy.

I spent the entire weekend turning to HP and saying “Babe, life is good.”

And he agreed.

Day 130 Nice Thing: This might be the best summer ever!

I Still Lost Though

Day 122 Nice Thing: Sometimes not planning is fun! A little “shoot from the hip” allowed me to discover that I’m a pretty good bowler!! Ok, maybe “pretty good” is an exaggeration. But definitely better than I thought.

I Didn’t Even Care, I Ate Ice Cream

Day 116 Nice Thing: Right now I can’t even verbalize the awesome, awesome day I had. I am not even being cautious with my optimism. I am flat out excited. I have waited soooo long for today, it is about time!! 🙂

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AMYELLA

Amyella (pronounced Amy-ella) is a pseudonym for Amy Levitt, a fitness and health food fanatic and a beach girl at heart. She has been sharing her sometimes nonsensical thoughts and self-amusing stories online since 2002 and currently spends a good deal of her time wrangling her 90 pound Rottweiler and 60 pound Boxer. Which is quite a show.
The origin of the name Amyella.

Here's my deal. It's wicked exciting!

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