True Life: On the Phone with my Brother

Me: How was your ten-year reunion?
Brother: Fine. One of my friends walked up to me and said, "I'm overweight, unemployed, and live with my parents."
Me: I'm all of those except overweight.
Brother: I'm all of those except I don't live with my parents.

True Life: Vignettes

The other day I was carded buying wine at the grocery store. I handed over my Michigan driver's license. The clerk regarded it with suspicion.

"I need a manager on lane 7," she said into the PA system.

I fidgeted awkwardly.

"Nothin' personal," said the clerk to me. "So -- you don't live around here?"

I gave the simple answer. "No, I'm just visiting."

The manager arrived, fluttering her hands. "The book is missing."

"The book is missing?" asked the clerk.

"The book is missing," said the manager. "We need to check all out-of-state licenses in a book, but the book is missing."

"Ok," I said. "The book is missing, so...."

"Yeah, the book is missing, so...." The manager put the wine under the counter.

"So you can't sell me the wine?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, the book is missing."

I gathered my thoughts before I spoke.

"You can sell me the wine. There isn't any state or federal law requiring an in-state driver's license to purchase alcohol. Obviously you have a store policy about checking out of state licenses. Because you lost the book, you're failing to execute your own policy, but I shouldn't be punished for that. You carded me to make sure that I'm not a minor, not to make sure that I'm a Texas resident. I presented a valid, government-issued ID that attests that I'm of legal drinking age."

Actually I didn't say any of that.

I just looked down at my outfit: jeans, tennis shoes, an "I <3 Jacob" t-shirt, sighed, and said, "Ok."



I went to the doctor recently and was told to cut down my milk, chocolate, and caffeine consumption.

"But that's your diet," said the Fiance when I told him the bad news.

He wasn't kidding. I have a cup of coffee every morning. I drink a gallon of milk by myself every three days. I eat all kinds of chocolate; this week alone I've had brownies, M and Ms, and chocolate covered pretzels.

Today is Day 1 of my detox. I did not have coffee this morning. I did not drink any milk all day. Instead I had decaff tea this morning and I have sucked down FIVE lunchbox-sized apple juice bottles. And I'm still thirsty! I need milk, dammit!

As for the chocolate, well, that didn't work out so well. I bought some pumpkin chocolate chip muffins at the farmer's market today and oh my. They are a revelation. Once I ate one of those, I was on a high and wanted to keep it rolling. I considered dipping my chicken nuggets in Hershey's, but I restrained myself.

I hope I have the strength to make it through Day 2.

True Life: True Life!

I'm currently starring in True Life: I Live in my Parents' Condo (potential spin-offs include: True Life: I Have Two Advanced Degrees, but I'm Still Unemployed), but it could be a whole lot worse.

I caught a rerun of the heartbreaking True Life: I'm Supporting My Family today. Even though I've watched it before, I couldn't tear my eyes away. Watch it if you can. It will make you grateful for everything you have and astonished that people actually live the way these characters do. I was glad to read online that Unique, the intrepid heroine raising her siblings on her own after her mom's suicide, is soon to be married. Unique, call me. We can talk wedding planning.

The good news is, the Fiance's life just became True Life: I Have a Position with a Bankruptcy Firm, so yaaaaay(!) the Fiance! He's a genius.

Now it's time for True Life: How Many Brownies Can I Eat?

True Life: Moms

My mom's interesting take on wedding presents:

Me: I got a pancake pan.
Mom: Is it a filled pancake pan?
Me: Why yes it is.
Mom: You know that's really a pass around present, the kind that you use one or two times, then pass around to someone else in your family.
Me: Mom, if you want to borrow it, just say so.
Mom: Well, I'm just saying!

Fiance's mom's interesting take on graduation photos:

Fiance's mom: So I developed the photos from your and Fiance's law school graduation.
Me: Oh yeah? Are they good?
Fiance's mom: Yes, but some are kind of funny.
Me: How so?
Fiance's mom: Well, the background didn't look familiar in some of them. And Fiance didn't have enough tassels. And his robe was a different color.
Me: Huh.
Fiance's mom: I realized that the last time we used that camera was Fiance's high school graduation.
Me: HA!
Fiance: And you know what? He really hasn't changed that much.

True Life: Spelling Bee

In the car this evening...

Kid Sister: Spell xanthosis.
Me: X-a-n-t-h-o-s-i-s.
Kid Sister: Correct. Now you spell loghorrea.
The Boyfriend: L-o-g-h-o-r-r-e-a.
Kid Sister. Correct. Now spell towncenter.

True Life: True Life!

Last night I caught an episode of MTV's "True Life" called "I Can't Leave my Boyfriend."

The episode featured 20-year-old Grace and her attempts to leave her 41-year-old boyfriend, Hangman (pictured).

Before writing this review, I found Hangman's blog and read his reaction to the episode. He went through familiar motions: he referenced the cutting room floor, defended the parts of his relationship with Grace that viewers didn't get to see, and finally had the usual compliments for "haters."

Then I asked myself: what could possibly be on the cutting room floor that would change how I felt about this relationship? What that I "didn't get to see" would make this better?

So, without further ado, my ten favorite moments of this episode and Hangman's blog:

1. Grace describing Hangman as "10 out of 10 good-looking."
2. Grace, sick of staying in and eating take-out Chinese food every night, implores Hangman to take her on a real date. He takes her to the Chinese restaurant that they order from every night.
3. At the restaurant, Hangman orders for her.
4. Grace: I may move back to Pennsylvania. Hangman: No.
5. Grace talking in baby-talk constantly.
6. On Hangman's 41st birthday, Grace gets to meet his mom for the first time. I got to discover that Hangman still lives at home.
7. Hangman: Top hats run in my family.
8. This over-capitalized gem from Hangman's blog: "Fortunately my artwork is admired and I have an International reputation. My work is shown in galleries from here to across the Seas [...] Some people might even go so far to say that I am the coolest person they have ever met."
9. Despite complaining bitterly about the reality TV process, you can find Hangman, not just on "True Life," but auditioning for "I Want to Work for Diddy." Sorry, once you have actively sought out the reality TV path, you lose the right to complain about it.
10. On his blog, Hangman asks his "fans" to "pray for a spin-off."

I found some videos from the episode here.

True Life: My Kid Sister Explains Romance

My Kid Sister has discovered g-chat.

She calls it "chattering."

She also emotes on g-chat through artful parentheticals, like you would expect to read in a play. Or, more accurately, like she reads every day as she watches tv with closed captioning on.

She uses g-chat to harass me and the Boyfriend. The Boyfriend's patience never runs out. He politely asks her questions about her favorite topics (movies, the weather). Witness this exchange. Only the names have been edited:

The Boyfriend: So what's new with you? The movie "Up" comes out tomorrow, I think.
My Kid Sister: Actually, it's coming to Disney DVD, not in theaters. (laughs) I saw it before the first time with Dad six months ago when it opened on May 8.
The Boyfriend: Did you like it? Would you recommend that I get it from Netflix to watch with [the Sophisticate]?
My Kid Sister: I liked it a little. I think I mght let you two watch it, but it will be sad in the beginning and a little bit sad at the end, but there's also happy ending though. If you two promise not to do anything boyfriend-girlfriend thing! First getting to know each other, became friends, something in common, hang out as friends, then realationships ilegally towards romance of boyfriend-girlfriend! Uggh! Why can't you two being friends?! I'm all about friends, not realationhip toward romance!

True Life: Sophisticate on the Move!

Sorry I've been MIA, folks. This weekend I attended a wedding. In a few minutes I'm off again, heading home to see my sister, but I'll be back in action in a few days.

For reading material in the meantime, check out aldaily.com.

True Life: "Something for the Cats"

I don't have any tattoos.

But I don't mind discussing them.

The other day, the subject of tattoos came up with a group of friends. Specifically, we all wondered what kind of tattoos we would get, say, if we were ever all in Vegas together. And drunk.

We went around the table:

"A shamrock."
"Me, too. A shamrock. With you."
"A wagon wheel."
"A phoenix."
"Barbed wire around my bicep." ("Really?" "No.")
"A Dag Hammarskjold quotation."
"Something for the cats." ("Really?" "Yes.")

Readers, what tattoo would you get?

True Life: "The Last Song" Release Date Has Been Pushed Back...

...and my sister is distraught.

The movie, starring Miley Cyrus, based on a novel by Nicholas Sparks, and produced by Touchstone pictures, was originally slotted to come out on January 8th. It seems that the new release date is April 2nd.

Since the seismic announcement of the delayed release, I have been in near-constant communication with my Miley-loving sister. Here is an excerpt of the conversation in which she broke the news to me. When I told her that I can wait until April to see the movie, she responded like this:

little sister: ARE YOU CRAZY! We've got to see that movie! I'm not giving up without a fight! I'd do anything for you to see that movie! Think about the movie! Miley! ME! I'm calling for protest for moving the movie different date next year! HELP!!!!

I mean, it's very important to us! I'm not giving up on you or the movie!

Get that!

6:41 PM Sorry. Just trying to show my demonstration of courage and determination!

I'm very really serious, through.

6:42 PM sophisticate: ok, i understand

well, i need to go to school soon

little sister: Check some resources about the mis dating movie!

6:43 PM sophisticate: ok, i will

but i have to run, now

i can call you later

talk to you soon!

little sister: Oh, yeah. More school work to distract you from not getting involve our mission to save our movie. No problem, I guess! Don't forget!

Talk to you soon too! Bye! I love you!

6:44 PM me: love you too!

ttys!

little sister: Tell [the boyfriend] about this! He can do something about to save our movie! We have a movie to save from moving away! HELP [THE BOYFRIEND]!

As promised, I did some google-ing and confirmed that the release date had been changed. I emailed my sister with this confirmation and some words of encouragement. I received this reply:

"I don't want to believe this! I'm not giving up without the movie's mid-date permission! HELP!!!
Love from your desperate sister,
[redacted]
PS Love you! Got any more brillant ideas to stop the movie from moving? I still need your supportive! Tell [the boyfriend]! Maybe he can help! Email me back soon!"

Eventually my little sister pulled my other sister into the drama as well. When my practical-minded other sister suggested that the little one write a letter to Touchstone Pictures, the little one had some concerns:

little sister: I could try, I don't think Mom will allow it, according to the law. What will happen if we break a law. We could be in big trouble with Mom and maybe President Obama. (sigh) Got any ideas to cheer me up?

other sister: Maybe go watch a Mile Cyrus movie?

Readers, got any ideas to cheer a little sister up?

True Life: I am not a very good cook.

Sometimes I get the urge to just "whip something up" in the kitchen. I am guided by a misplaced notion that I have an inherent talent for cooking. I can just pull a few things out of the refrigerator, stir ingredients in various saucepans while humming to myself, chop a few vegetables, pirouette over to the oven, and magic will happen. The flavors will sing. The Boyfriend will say, "Gee, honey, you've done it again!"

My daydreams about cooking always start out rosy and sweet-smelling. They rarely end that way. Once I served the Boyfriend uncooked biscuit dough over chicken noodle soup. To his credit, he ate the entire thing.

A few nights ago, I got the urge. I peered into the refrigerator and the pantry. I pulled out a few, disparate ingredients. I didn't need a recipe. Recipes were for amateurs. I could make a pasta sauce from scratch. No problem.

Readers, for the first time, it actually worked. I put some butter in a sauce pan and let it heat up. I added some chopped smoked salmon. The butter and salmon mingled in the pan and made the kitchen smell amazing. I knew I was on to something good. A little vodka, a little cream, and a little lemon juice later, and I was a chef!

I think this experiment in cooking was successful, in part, because of a maxim I learned from tv chef Tom Colicchio: if you put really good ingredients in, you'll get really good food out.

Tonight I will try for similar results with chicken, garlic, and bread crumbs. Wish me luck!



(Image reproduced without permission from hoboquilts.com).

True Life: I am not a very good babysitter.

Usually a babysitter can bribe a child not to tell the child's parents when something goes wrong. It's a little harder to escape liability when the child is your sister and the parents your parents. It's even harder when the category of "things that can go wrong" includes eyes falling out and noses forgotten at bedtime. Worst of all, when the usual bribe -- junk food -- is inapplicable, all bets are off for the poor babysitter.

Such were my adventures in babysitting my youngest sister. Her eye really did fall out and sometimes I forgot to put a nose on her at bedtime. Those things sound much worse than they really are. For years she didn't eat any solid food (chocolate is still anathema to her) -- so I couldn't use Hershey bars as bribes and didn't have the heart to use them as threats.

I also babysat my young cousin in the summer. I gave her baths with a little Korean* and supervised her at nap time. The baths were only complicated by my cousin's fear of water in her eyes; she used to wear a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle helmet to play in the sprinklers. Nap time was fine; I rewarded quiet behavior with the privilege of petting our cat. My system was arbitrary. "[Cousin], you've been quiet for five minutes, you may pet the cat six times. [Sister], you've been quiet for ten minutes, you may pet the cat four times." You can imagine this sometimes caused fights between the cousin and the little Korean, but if you're making noise, then who's petting the cat?!

I once babysat for the two young daughters of some friends I knew through work. I played in the yard with the girls and let them knock me over. The older girl particularly enjoyed this game. I worried that I might have created a monster. After dinner, the girls and I watched Barbie as Rapunzel on DVD. Poor Barbie spent most of the movie locked in a tower, the prisoner of a hideous CGI witch.

"Did you like the movie?" I asked the girls as I tucked them in.
"I liked the witch," the older girl announced.

Definitely a monster.

My worst babysitting experience came when I strayed far from babysitting my own kith and kin. Worse even than babysitting for total strangers is babysitting for strangers who are also rich and famous. And strange.

In college I babysat for the children of a celebrity. I've blocked out most of the stress and trauma involved in those evenings, but I still remember the 30-page manual I was handed upon arrival at the mansion. I also remember the nauseating moment when the father called to check on us and I couldn't figure out how to answer their fancy, office-style telephone. Hint: picking up the receiver and saying "hello?" were not enough to be heard. They were enough, though, for me to hear the father shouting "HELLO?!" and directing his wife to call the police. Page 12 of the manual told me to run with the children to the neighbor's house in the event of a kidnapping attempt; I guess he assumed that's what had happened.

That experience turned me off from babysitting for awhile.

It was probably for the best.

*Again, my sister

Funny!

This post will just be a funny forward sent to me by a friend.

It's funny. Really.

And if you wanted something more original, you can blame "The True Adventures of True Life" which is on TV right now.

And also the homework I still have for tomorrow.

But mostly "True Life."

It's amazing.

Herewith, the forward:

* I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

* More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all
I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I
can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly
involves me.

* Nothing stinks more than that moment during an argument when
you realize you're wrong.

* Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that
you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are
supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking
back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do
something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture
and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area
thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

* I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap
when I was younger.

* The letters T and G are very close to each other on a
keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently
I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

* There is a great need for sarcasm font.

* Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was
younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what was going on when I
first saw it.

* I think everyone has a movie that they love so much; it
actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up
wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's
laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little
bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the
only one who really, really gets it.

* I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each
hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

* The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm
trying to finish a text

* Was learning cursive really necessary?

* Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have
nothing else to say".

* I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom
and hunger.

* Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a
Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.

* Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street
smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

* How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you
just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

* I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars
teams up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong,
brothers!

* While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and
instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.

* MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5.
Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

* Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you
how the person died.

* I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get
in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

* Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never
get dirty, and you can wear them forever.

* I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

* Bad decisions make good stories

* Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that
their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who
just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures?
Don't mind if I do!

* If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their
offspring would probably just be completely invisible.

* Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room
has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so
incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from; this
shouldn't be a problem....

* You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment
at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing
anything productive for the rest of the day.

* Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I
don't want to have to restart my collection.

* There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure
you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

* I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it
asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper
that I swear I did not make any changes to.

* "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

* I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of
people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but
will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we
weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get
up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

* While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally
for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly
certain that when Chinese athletes don't win, they are executed.

* I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello?
Hello?), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and
goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone
and run away?

* I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then
not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

* When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning
something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some
light internet stalking.

* I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on
shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

* As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate
drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate
cyclists.

* Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and
still not know what time it is.

* I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I
know not to answer when they call.

* Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know
what do to with it.

* Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating
their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the
Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet everyone can find and push the Snooze
button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time
every time...

* I wonder if cops ever hate at the fact that everyone they
drive behind obeys the speed limit.

* I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

True Life: Barnes and Noble Vignettes

The Boyfriend and I studied at the Barnes and Noble cafe today. It is our second home. It is also the setting of many human dramas. Tucked behind our casebooks, the Boyfriend and I have witnessed some high-highs and low-lows from the good people of Michiana.

Here are some examples.

Ponzi schemer: Do you know what residual income is?
Gullible college student in hoodie: No, I don't know a lot about that stuff.
Schemer: That's ok, I can explain it. You know Elvis, right? Well, some people think he's dead, but I know he's alive and living in Hawaii. Every time one of his songs is played on the radio, Elvis makes money off it. That's residual income. And that's what you're going to get.
Hoodie: Great!
Schemer: Just sign up two friends.

Another time we saw a Notre Dame professor grading bluebook exams when an acquaintance approached him.

Acquaintance: Hi! Hey, how've you been?
Professor: Not well at all.
Acquaintance: I'm sorry to hear that. Is it a stressful time of the semester?
Professor: It's demons.
Acquaintance: Pardon me?
Professor: Demons.
Acquaintance: Oh...well, is there anything I can do?
Professor: There are only two things they hate: sincere expressions of gratitude and the Mass.
(Deafening silence as everyone in the cafe watches to see what the acquaintance will do).
Acquaintance/SAINT: Would you like join me and my wife for dinner sometime? Give me your phone number so I can call you sometime.
Professor (rips page out of the Blubebook, writes his number on it): The students never pick these up anyway.

Today a woman with a puppet on her hand began to set out glue sticks in the mid-afternoon. This was a very bad sign. Soon the usually quiet cafe was full of rambunctious children. I tried to concentrate on my reading.
"Here comes Martha," Puppet Lady cooed.
I glanced up. A giant mascot dog was waddling over to the cafe.
The kids screamed. I screamed.
"Martha the Dog is here to play with you!" Puppet Lady announced.
The Boyfriend looked up from Fed Tax. "Do you think that's the real Martha the Dog?" he asked.
"No," I hissed from under the table. "I think it's a grown man who's made a lot of mistakes."
"Martha's hungry, she has to go now."
From between the table legs, I could see "Martha" rub her rotund belly, then waddle off toward the staff room, where she was undoubtedly about to eat one of the children clinging to her tail.

I climbed out from under the table. Close call. Back to studying.

True Life: My Kid Sister and Her Movies

My Kid Sister sees any movie she likes in the theatre. Then she sees it again. The day the DVD comes out, she will cajole you into buying it for her. Then she will begin watching it over and over again. She watches with the closed captioning on, memorizing every line. If the movie is shown on television, she will play the DVD at the same time as the broadcast version, switching back and forth between the two, pausing the DVD during the commercials so that the two “don’t get messed up.” Just when you think you will go mad if you hear, “Look, it’s Miley!” one more time, she begins to watch the movie in French.

At Christmas time several years ago, my Brother took my Kid Sister to see the new, live-action Peter Pan. Kid Sister, just on the cusp of adolescence, liked the frothy, Mary Martin musical version. This darker film, starring Jeremy Sumpter, didn’t seem impress her. Kid Sister was silent on the car ride back to the house. Finally, in the driveway, my sister spoke. She was reverent. “His name is Jeremy.”

Ever since then, that little phrase has been a sort of shorthand for me. It means adoration. It means “isn’t he dreamy?” It means “this is someone I would move to Never-land to be with.”

I have a nice Boyfriend. He’s also a little magical. Over the summer, he enchanted my French press; every time I used it to make coffee, it seemed to wash itself. More importantly, he listens to me, he helps me, he cares about my friends and family.

And he takes my Kid Sister to any movie she likes.

“His name is Jeremy.”




(Photo reproduced without permission from moviesmedia.ing.com).