Tuesday, October 27, 2009

I chipped a tooth and other news.

That's right. I chipped a tooth. One of my front teeth. So I'm going to see the dentist this afternoon and he's going to put my tooth back together, or something. How'd I do it? Biting my nail. So lame.

I sliced my finger open yesterday at work, while I was moving boxes around. My finger got caught on the metal clasp of a manila folder. It bled and bled. Lame.

TC is awesome, and when I say awesome, I mean super duper awesome. For reals. I had a migraine last night and randomly burst into tears from exhaustion and pain, and he held me. What a man! Not lame.

I've been sewing for myself a lot lately. I'm planning on posting photos of my projects someday. I find trying on my creation and pulling out the camera a hassle. I'm lame.

My sister started a blog, which I am excited about. The blogging world needs to know that she's cool. Lame that the blogging world doesn't already know.

Our good friends moved, and we're sad. And lonely. And sad. But we're going to see them this weekend, so that's not lame.

Lame-4; Not Lame-2

Friday, October 23, 2009

I'll be Bach.

Have you ever heard of Snorg Tees? They have some of the most hilarious t-shirts ever. I laughed so hard as I looked over their designs. Here are a few of my favorites.

For the math geek in me.

Look how sad the cute little Jason is.

For you Flight of the Conchords fans.

This t-shirt might be my favorite.*

*I love pointless footnotes.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

I'm not a prude...

...I promise. Not that it's a bad thing. But I can't exactly use the word prude to describe myself. I occasionally use bad language, have bad manners often, poor posture nearly all the time, even sometimes my dress is not becoming of the daughter of God I am, I don't sit like a lady... But this weekend I found something so intellectually and morally offensive that I'm here to share it all with you.

The Huz and I happened into a Halloween shop.

Perhaps I could end my post there and many of you would understand the offense I feel was thrust upon me. But in true Gordita fashion, I'm going to beat a dead horse even deader and get myself so riled up, like a chained dog snarling at a cat on the other side of the fence tauntingly just out of reach, that I start to feel light headed.

Another disclaimer is in order: I'm not a huge Halloween fan. I don't like the decorations. I dislike the crafty cutesy as much as I dislike the spooky scary. Spooky scary turns into gory bloody nasty. And crafty cutesy, well see my last post. I don't like trick-or-treating; it's just so awkward, no matter what side of it you're on. The only thing I tolerate about Halloween are jack-o-lanterns. They're kind of cute. But a huge mess and waste of a pumpkin.

Okay, so now that I've revealed my inner Grinch Who Stole Halloween, on to the offense. Holy moly, Halloween costumes for grown women are skanky (honestly there were quite a few costumes labeled "pre-teen" that were sleazy too, but I'll leave those alone). Only three out of the hundreds of costumes I saw were modest (i.e. knee-length, with sleeves, moderate cleavage). I could choose to be a pirate (a blatantly promiscuous one), a fairy tail princess (saucy version), or a witch (minxy seductress).

Huh? Pirates are supposed to be fierce and mean, princesses are supposed to be lovely and wholesome, witches are ugly with green faces and warts on their noses, not saucy sirens.

Here are my issues with this costume debacle.

Issue #1: Most of the costumes I saw there were made by lingerie companies who make these costumes for the kind of dress-up one does in the privacy of their own home with their spouse. And these things are being sold as though they were real clothing, real costumes, meant for public use? How dense do you think I am, Halloween Store People?

Issue #2: The age old argument that women are not objects comes to mind. What are you saying about yourself when you dress up as a sexy Snow White? For that matter, what are you saying about yourself when you dress up as Freddy Krueger?

Issue #3: I take offense to the fact that these costumes were from cheap fabric (and very little of it) with poor craftsmanship and were expensive to boot.

Issue #4: The women's shoes they sell in conjunction with the costumes were like those you might find in a pole dancing establishment.

Issue #5: The costumes for men weren't much better. The choices were limited to pimp (I can't even tell you how much this costume makes my blood boil), mimbo, and hippie. Oh, and there were others that I won't give the specifics of because they were in poor taste. Really poor taste.

Am I taking this whole thing too seriously? Probably. I often do that. I get angry sometimes at random things over which I have no control. For example I take issue with Hollywood romcoms and obvious orgies of CGI that assume that the audience is a pack of dumb animals that are so slobberingly ravenous that they'll eat up whatever crap is served out. See? I probably take it too seriously. Just don't watch the romcoms and CGI orgies. But instead I don't watch them and still get angry that they are even being made. And don't even get me started on those modest clothing stores that have cropped up all over Utah that sell cheaply made clothing for more than it's worth that women eat up because it's modest. Modest clothing is available at nearly every store people! (With exception of the Halloween shop.) You don't need to throw your money into a sink hole of "entrepreneurship" and "originality."

Such it is with this costume nonsense. Leave it alone Gordita. Avoid the Halloween shops. If you must dress up, find your own costume that isn't degrading to your self worth and doesn't show 90% of your body. And be happy that you were successful in avoiding the crap.

But what about all those other women out there who don't think for themselves? What about those adult-sized teenage children who will buy those costumes and wear them and send the wrong message about themselves in an attempt to garner attention from boys that they feel they need in order to have self-confidence and damage their psyche for the rest of their lives? What about them? WHAT about THEM?


Feeling light headed.

Taking deep breaths.

Focusing on my heart rate.


Don't worry about me people. I'll get a grip and move on. Someday.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Sit long, talk much, laugh often

Prepare yourself. This is a post in which I reveal what a jerk I am. Because secretly, I'm a jerk. Maybe it's not much of a secret really. Okay, well I do TRY to hide it. And sometimes I'm even successful, at least I like to think I am. Well, this is a post in which the hiding is over, the cat's out of the bag, I'm going to spill the beans. Here goes...

Have you seen those signs you can buy at craft stores or fairs with sayings on them? Like the one above, or this one:
No offense but, (here comes the offensive part where I reveal my inner jerk and make fun of something that perhaps some of you love and find endearing) I think they're kind of cheesy. Like these, which you can buy here if you are interested:

So TC and I have a cynical sense of humor. When we see these sayings, we chuckle and then try to come up with our own.

"Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away," could be changed to "Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by how stinky our breath is."

Instead of "A house is made of brick and stone, a home is made of love alone," a more accurate sign (at least for this area of the country) would be, "A house is made of 2x4s and sheet rock, a home is made of love." I mean, who uses brick and stone?

In response to one that we saw at my sister's house (seriously no offense KL because your house is lovely, but this saying made me laugh, not at you, but at the saying which is just begging to be repurposed and morphed in so many different ways) that said, "Without teachers life would have no class," TC and I came up with the following:

  • Without proctologists life would be a bummer.
  • Without aerodynamics life would be a drag.
  • Without drills life would be boring.
  • Without doctors life would be sick.
  • Without vacuums life wouldn't suck.
  • Without manure life would just be crap.
  • Without police officers life would be a riot.
  • Without lithification from sediments, solidification from melt, precipitation out of saturated solutions, or metamorphosis from other rock types, life wouldn't rock.
So I completely understand that our substitutions don't always make sense, but come on, they made you laugh at least a little, right? At least you cracked a smile? You smirked? Something? Work with me people. Alright, I admit that on that last one we went too far. But come on...proctologists? Aerodynamics? I'm chuckling just reading my own writing.

Have you seen those signs that say, "All because two people fell in love"? Well, our usual substitute for that is something along the lines of "All because two people couldn't control their hormones."

Signs that say "Sit long, talk much, laugh often," are just begging to have the phrase "now get the h*&% out of my house," added.

Have you ever looked at those signs and thought of some cynical come back? Or is that just us?

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


At work there is a sweet lady named Gayle. In the seven years I've worked here, I've known of her, but not known her. Recently, I've had the chance to get to know her a bit better, and let me tell you, she's a sweetheart.

Whenever I need a pick-me-up, Gayle seems to come around. She's a woman who has devoted the last 40 or so years of her life to researching her family history, finding names of ancestors and ensuring none of them are forgotten. She is sweet, and kind and quiet. I've always thought she was a little bit shy.

It all started several months ago when she complimented me on my shoes. I had no idea she had any interest in shoes. I had no idea that anyone even paid attention. But Gayle complimented me on my shoes (red peep-toes) one day, and it made my day. The next day, she complimented me on my black square-toe heels. The next day along with the compliment on my shoes she told me that she had a secret love of shoes, and was devastated the day doctors prescribed her orthopedic shoes. Although she can no longer wear them, she has never given up her heel collection, and pulls them out every so often just to admire them. The next day she admitted that she watches for me to walk by so she can check out my shoes.

So develops a highly one-sided relationship where I happen by and Gayle pays me a huge compliment. I find myself beaming after every encounter with her. She compliments my entire ensemble (as she calls them), saying I belong on a runway, or that my outfit looks like it's straight out of a magazine. By no means do I think I'm a fantastic dresser. But Gayle is impressed every day with my outfits. Whenever I need a pick-me-up, I'll just walk by Gayle. She'll have something nice to say.

Because of her, I'm inspired to be a little ray of sunlight in someone's dreary day. Who is a ray of sunlight in your life?

Monday, October 5, 2009


How shallow of me is this? I am blogging today about a coat and a pair of boots I found that have me smitten.

Fall Wants

Breath-taking, no? Unfortunately, the coat goes for nearly $800, and the boots around $450. Yikes!

But good news is on the way. I found a very similar coat at JC Penney for the sum of $119.99. Affordable, right? And it's adorable. And I really, really want it.

The coat would go well with these shoes I recently acquired and am in complete like with:
BCBG Paris Grido Suede in Purple.

But would also go well those boots. Oh those boots... Apparently I'm into buttons on shoes right now. Can you tell?

Friday, October 2, 2009

Don't be surprised...

...if I don't make it through this winter. It was 40º this morning, which by no means is as cold as it's going to get, and I was freezing. FREEZING!

Wearing a jacket, my wool winter coat and a hat, I was cold. COLD! Granted, on the bottom I was only partially covered wearing a knee-length skirt and nylons. But let's look past that and focus on the fact that I was so cold.

As we were walking the two blocks to my work, I mentioned to TC that he should enjoy my presence now, while he can. Because some day, this winter, when I'm walking home from work, I'm going to die, and they are going to find me curled up on the sidewalk in a frozen little ball. A shriveled, shivering corpse.

Okay, so maybe I'm being a little dramatic. Corpses don't shiver. And I'm not going to curl up on the sidewalk. And if I did, there are enough passersby that at least one would take pity on me and walk me home, or at least throw a blanket over me. And it's not THAT cold. I mean, it's not like I live in the Arctic tundra. But seriously, what am I going to do when it's 20º outside? How about when it's in the teens? What will I do then?

TC suggested I get some leg warmers. What do you think?