the amazing adventures of jen14221

weekend weigh-in

Plateaus blow.

 

So you can probably guess that I will not be making my goal of 165 pounds by June 9th.  Must re-evaluate.

bufblopofo 09, day fourteen

One last Bufblopofo 09 post:

DUDES. One more post and you’ll have done it. You’ll have posted every day for FOURTEEN DAYS STRAIGHT. Or a fortnight, if you will.

So are you sad it’s almost done? Are you going to miss all of your fellow participants? Well, your assignment is to give us a farewell speech. I’m continually amazed that anyone decided to play along with the BufBloPoFo. I say you take it easy tomorrow for your last day and just post a quick “so long” to your fellow participants.

So, I'm sitting here on a Friday, drinking an enormous Malibu and Diet Coke, trying to chill.  It was another long week, with the promise of a another long week next week.  I've blogged for 14 days straight, I'm not quitting blogging (like I ever would, I'm such a blog whore), and I'll be back to my regular scheduled drivel tomorrow.  Or Sunday.  Definitely by Monday.

bufblopofo 09, day thirteen

Topic for today:

Holy crap you guys! Tomorrow is The Last Day Eve! YOU CAN DO IT.

I was going to finish with this question like last year, but decided I’d use it for day 13 instead. Link to whatever you posted exactly one year ago (or whatever’s closest), and give your readers an update on that topic. If you haven’t been writing for a year, give us a list of three or four things that are going on in your life right now that you’ll want to update one year from now.

This is a good topic, because today is a very special day for me.  It's my blog's FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY!

This is what I talked about last year - on my fourth anniversary.

Wow, I've been doing this for a long time.  It may be time to stop.

bufblopofo 09, day twelve

Today's topic:

Lisa, Maeve, Addie and I had Unkie BAStart and Auntie Outgrabes over for some vino and pastries last night. The girls, happy to have an audience, but happier to have cookies, took their time heading for bed. Parental wherewithal can come from years of childrearing, or it can apparently be pulled from a bag of goodies bought at Starbucks. That kind of knowledge doesn’t come automatically for parents, so for day 12 (three more days!) I want to hear your best advice for those of us raising kids.

I have a kid.  I had my kid when I was 34.  Thirty-four.  That is a lot of time to live on your own without a kid, developing all sorts of selfish habits that you will have to give up once you have your kid/s.  So, while some people (hi mom!) had kids at a young age, and never had a ton of time living outside the parental home, getting into trouble, goofing off, and sleeping until noon, I had many many years of being irresponsible, staying up late/sleeping in, drinking at lunch, kissing strange boys and making bad decisions all over the eastern seaboard.

I was a nanny for about nine months in 1990, and I always told myself that I would totally get a nanny when I had a kid.  Not that these kids were bad or anything, it's just the parents both worked, they had a nice house and a whole top floor for me, the nanny.  I sometimes made dinner for the mom and dad, threw in the laundry, tidied up, etc, and made their lives easier so that when they got home for work, they would be able to enjoy time with their kids, not worry about getting dinner on the table or if the kids had clean clothes in their closets.

I never had a nanny, and we probably won't ever need one, or get one, because we get some help (hi mom!) and Peter's work schedule is not too inflexible.  He can leave the office at a good time to pick up Will, take him to hockey lessons, or to the doctor's etc, while I slave away here in Philadelphia.

My neighbor once told me something and I agree with it 100%:  "Get as much help with the kids as you can afford".

This will keep you saner, and you will be a better parent.  The end.

bufblopofo 09, day eleven

More from Mike:

Holy crap! Four more posts to go! YOU CAN DO IT, PARTICIPANTS. As you can see by my sparse entry above, things are getting a little sluggish. I’ll let up on the accelerator for a day and give us a slow pitch. For tomorrow, follow these directions:

1. Take out your cell phone.
2. Turn it around and take a picture of yourself AS YOU ARE RIGHT THIS SECOND NO CHEATING.
3. Post that pic and describe it. Where are you? Why are you wearing that? Maryface, there’s something in your teeth.

 

Not the most flattering angle, my eye makeup is a little smeary (already!), and you can't see my best feature -enormous boobs, but at least I don't have any boogers.  Anyway, here I am, at work, in a conference room, waiting for my 11am meeting to start.

Pictured above me are past Directors and Head Physicians of the University of Pennsylvania, Obstetrics and Gynecology Division.  All men.

I'll include this additional picture as a bonus as it is also hanging in the same conference room, and takes up an entire wall.  I usually try to sit with my back to this picture due to the gruesome subject matter:

    

Pictured is Dr. Ephraim McDowell (1771-1830), performing an ovarian cyctectomy (OUCH OH MY GAH) in 1809.  You know they did not have anesthesia back then so that poor woman lying prone on the operating kitchen table was just given a slug of some homemade moonshine or something like that to shut her up keep her quiet make her comfortable during the procedure.

And those tools are just sitting around, doing nothing, gossiping about Napolean divorcing Empress Josephine because she's a real cow, and talking about going to play cricket a little later, after the maid brings them some hot tea.

And then I'm sure the patient died of massive hemorrhage or infection, because Dr. McDowell probably did not wash his hands before operating.  And before operating he helped groom the horses.
 

bufblopofo 09, day ten

Mike! You're killing me.

On day ten last year, I found out about a girl named Monique who graduated from law school a year before me. She kicked cancer’s ass long enough to graduate, study for and then take the New York State Bar Exam. She passed away soon after that, cementing her status as one of my all time greatest personal heroes. I regret that I never met her, but I’m a better lawyer today because I know her story. For BufBloPoFoMonique day, tell me who inspires you. Who is your hero?

I think I'm a little pre-menstrual and it's not a good idea for me to sob at work, so I'm not going to talk about my mom, my grandmom, my dad, my sissy, my husband, my friend Sara Moore, or any of those other heroes I have.  Instead I'm going to talk about Marge.

 

Marge Gunderson, you are a brave Police Chief.  You are quick-witted and maybe a little bit too trusting.  You are seven months pregnant and still puking into the snow.  You enjoy Arby's.  You buy fish bait for your husband.  You are polite, likable and intelligent.  I love you Margie!

bufblopofo 09, day nine

Answering John's question:

Apparently, I look about 75-80% asian!

That kind of works, because when people ask me my name and I tell them 'Jen', sometimes they hear 'Chen'. 

bufblopofo 09, day eight

Oh Mike, you're so darn tricky.

Alright, enough of this lazy stuff, time to get those creative juices flowing. Take a look to the right over there and you’ll see a list of the “BufBloPoFo 09 Participants”. It’s pretty, isn’t it?!? Look at them all! Okay, now find whichever blog is below yours and talk about that dude. If you know them, tell us how you met. If you don’t know them, talk about something you read on their site. Whichever it is, end your post by asking that person a question. (That last part maaaaaaay be important later on...)

I do not know the author of Life of a NYC girl, and since she so conveniently left the 'About' page of her blog blank, I must say WTF, NYC girl!  You are making this hard for me!

This is what I know about NYC girl:

• She likes 'Lost'
• She owns her own condo (to which I say bravo)
• I guess she looks a little like Denise Richards and Ashley Tisdale, amongst others
• She has a blackberry (to which I say boo - get an iPhone)
• She has an organized closet
• She likes Cuban food
• She knows Mike Garvey, somehow

My question for NYC girl is this:  My sister is getting married in early September to a Cuban guy (he defected to the US while on a karate tournament about 2 years ago - they live in NYC and have a three month old baby) and I am hosting a day-after the wedding bash at our house in Lockport.  I want the food to have a Cuban theme.  What should I serve?  Please consider the fact that I will be making the food myself and will be serving about 50 people in an outdoor party-like atmosphere.  Also - what should I serve for drinks?

Thanks!

bufblopofo 09, day seven

I was moaning and groaning yesterday about going to see Morrissey in concert at the UB Center for the Arts.  I loathe live music you see, and the act of trying the get out of the concert hall, to your car, out of the parking lot and home is really just too much to bear.

But!  Last night's show was AWESOME.

 

He opened with 'This Charming Man', played a bunch of his solo stuff, including 'Irish Blood English Heart', did 'Ask' and 'How Soon is Now'.  He had an interesting heart-shaped sweat stain on the back of his shirt which made me swoon.

I made Peter leave at 10:25pm, which is like 30 minutes before he stopped singing, but it was a cinch to make it to our car and out of UB Campus.

The opening band - The Courteeners - were really also very good.

bufblopofo 09, day six

More themed blogging:

Lisa and I found out today that we got the go-ahead from our bank to set a closing date in stone! I’d love to say that’s like we’ve got a key in hand, but we all know it’s just one more step in the process. Regardless, I’ve had “moving” and “houses” and so on and so forth on my mind all day long now. Tell me about your first home away from home. Tell me about the first apartment you had that wasn’t under your parents’ roof. A dorm? A loft? A cardboard box? Give us a tour

I entered Boston University in the fall of 1987.  Yes, that makes me kind of old.  Although it was a long time ago, I do remember the long drive with my parents and sister from Buffalo to Boston in my grandpa's station wagon (large enough to hold all my crap) on a Sunday in early September of that year.  I was dropped off at my dorm which was really non-traditional - BU had a bunch of those enormous dorm buildings that had media rooms and dining halls right there but I got stuck in a little five-story brownstone (really, a converted flophouse is what I later heard) that had rooms at weird angles and two coed bathrooms per floor.  This was BU's South Campus, 48 Buswell Street.

I didn't get my dorm assignment until TWO days before I left for college, and the whole thing was kind of a circle jerk.  None of my top three dorm choices were even considered but when I got there I was actually kind of glad to not be in a big dorm - 48 Buswell was on a small street, and looked like what I thought Boston should look like.  I really was too young and stupid to even know any better.  And this guy Tom I met at summer orientation (a recent BU graduate who was hot AND from Buffalo) became my boyfriend for like three weeks lived about one block from 48 Buswell.

Anyway, living there was a mistake.  I was far away enough from the rest of mainstream campus to feel lost in the shuffle and I remember being really lonely and depressed.  Being 18, going from a small-sized high school in Williamsville to this enormous university in a big city was a total culture shock for me.  I joined the crew team, got a job at CVS, and made friends, dated, etc., but I still consider that first year of college (and Sophomore year, too) kind of lost years.

As an aside, I found a really awesome radio station in Boston while I was visiting college campuses the year prior, and once I moved into 48 Buswell, I kept my stereo on a never-ending stream of WFNX 101.7.  This song was on constant rotation back then, and sometimes I hear it and I am taken back to that lonely lost time in my life.