Dear Universe,

I need someone to bring me a fruit smoothie, please. Someone who happens to be in the neighborhood. I’m right at the corner of Castro and 18th. Not literally, I don’t work out on the corner nor do I hang out there (unlike the rest of the homeless population in the city) for hours on end. But I’d be happy to meet at said corner. I prefer smoothies with berries and peaches. Bananas…no good. If you care about me at all you’ll fulfill my small request. Even if the smoothie is gross I’ll still drink it and I won’t say anything about how poor the quality is (aloud).


Sincerely,

Whitney

Word of the day

Main Entry: max·im

Pronunciation: \ˈmak-səm\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English maxime, from Anglo-French, from Medieval Latin maxima, from Latin, feminine of maximus, superl. of magnus large — more at much
Date: 1567

1 : a general truth, fundamental principle, or rule of conduct
2 : a proverbial saying

Whitney's suggested use: "That lady on the bus clearly holds all extra terrestrial messages as a maxim, even a replacement for religion, wouldn't you say?"

I'm sure many of you have asked yourself this very question. Well, for those of you who aren't as awesomely healthy as I am, substitute "pita" with "cookies", "pie", "cheeseburger", etc. Anyway, lately, it has been my pitas that seem to go missing. Here I am one minute, munching away on my pita with some delicious hummus, and the next thing I know...it's gone! Now, I do realize that I am the culprit behind the missing pita. I'm no sleuth, but I'm not an idiot. However, why am I so astonished upon reaching for my snack to find nothing but crumbs?


I am bewildered not only by the intensity of my sudden food confusion, but also the frequency to which this is ocurring. It is pretty common to occassionally eat an entire something or other without realizing it (unless you're Brad, in which case you've been doing this since birth), but now I find that not only am I looking over to see if there is any pita left...I am actually doing a "double-take-reach" (SIDE NOTE: all students of Mrs. Sanchez's 8th grade drama class understand the logistics of a great double-take) and searching frantically for approximately 2 seconds. This happens at least once or twice a day now (yes, I do eat pitas that often). In the words of Toodles...."I've lost my marbles."

Paranoia

Sometimes I feel like there just isn't a soul in my office that understands me (or my sense of humor) and they are all waiting for my time here to be up. They're my late-night-cafe-audience, watching me pathetically struggle through some stand up bit. Clapping politely, sipping their drinks, wondering who is coming on next to save the show.



I call in sick to work. I hear the skepticism in my boss' voice as she confirms my request, "Okaaay."


I give the continuing education seminar held in-office a poor review. Oops. Everyone else liked it.


I quietly express some conservative view on our country's state of affairs. I can't see their faces (due to the cubicle environment) but I can sense their disapproval.


My "Cabbage Leaves in the Underwear and Witchhazel in the Bra" joke is met with confusion.




I just know that one of these days the gong will chime. I'll look around, know that it's meant for me, and be escorted out of the office to the sound of a deep-voiced announcer, "Whitney, thank you for playing! You will not be moving into the next round, but we'd like to send you off with this lovely consolation prize! A custom mouse pad! Retail value, $2.00."

I know you know...

...where I can find cute upholstery fabric that fits my style. Our living room chair had bleached spilled on it during the move and needs some serious help. Give me your ideas.

Labor Day

Our beach

What we do

USA USA USA

I wonder how long a "McCain-Palin '08" sign would last if placed it in the front yard of my San Francisco house... I'll even put an "Obama-Biden '08" sign next to it, just to ensure that all Moraga House political opinions are properly represented.

Even better, what if I wore a "McCain-Palin '08" T-shirt (NO! Jumpsuit!) to work next week. Would I survive the 2 block walk from the train to my office in the heart of Obamaland? Just because I care so deeply about my health and the existance of any future Gray-Christopherson posterity, I'll probably hold off on that one.

I'll see if I can find some signs this weekend.

Whitney's Word of the Day

parsimonious

Main Entry: par·si·mo·ni·ous
Pronunciation: \ˌpär-sə-ˈmō-nē-əs\
Function: adjective
Date: 1598

1: exhibiting or marked by parsimony; especially : frugal to the point of stinginess

2: sparing, restrained

synonyms see stingy

What Scott's suggested use might be: "Whitney, you're so delightfully parsimonious. It's my favorite thing about you."



Sent at 9:11 AM on Friday
scott: yeah. I got paid.

me: woo
money money money money! MONAY!
like the song

scott: i know. now I can go on a spending spree.
Monay!

me: let's buy a baby camel
pleeeeeeeeeeeease

scott: perfect.

scott: I secretly want to buy a new pair of shoes for $60
Should I just suck it in and forget about them?

me: YES
you just got new shoes
i love you, but...
do your shoes hurt your feet?

scott: No, but what if I reach some sort of exercise goal.

me: um, like a 6 month goal? sure

scott: Let's say if I exercise for 60 days I can get those shoes.

me: because $60 is a lot of money for a short term goal
60 days consecutively?

scott: two months? sure.

me: you need to stop looking for shoes online
it's only feeding your habit

scott: I wasn't searching for shoes online. Only looking for the one pair I already wanted.

me: haha...same thing. 60 days consecutively is impossible
i was joking

scott: not impossible. Minus sunday, it is possible.

me: fine, go for it
i support it
now i KNOW i need a second job
to fund your rewards

scott: ok.
Does the sixty days start today?

me: yes
we need to budget today

scott: ok.
I've done pretty good this week not spending money on food.

me: that's true

scott: Only yesterday on that pizza.

me: you're a champ
those potatoes were WAAAAY too expensive
never again
i could make those at home, AND better

scott: i know.
Seriously.
I'm excited for this sixty days to freedom
I think it's a smart idea.

me: haha
freedom?
what does that mean?

scott: and it will keep me motivated.
I have no idea.

me: are you buying 'Freedom Shoes"

scott: just made it up.
that's right.
http://zeta.zappos.com/product/7413097/color/158

me: well, get out there and run like a gazelle..

scott: i will.
check them out first.
what do you think?
they are my dreams shoes.

me: those are very cool. I like that blue color.

scott: just like the nikes.
me too.

me: which NIkes?

scott: the ones you gave me.
I like them just like the nikes.

me: the green Nikes?

scott: yeah.

me: good. you can buy those shoes and die happy knowing that you have aqcuired TWO, yes TWO pairs of dream shoes.

scott: i know.
ok. i'm off.

me: I guess I can be grateful that you aren't wanting to buy a motorcycle or something
or get frosted tips
SICK

scott: that's next.
I love those tips.
peace out. I'll be back.

me: my soul just died a little
goodbye

Sweat on brow

I thought I was coming to San Francisco to escape the heat of the summer in Salt Lake City. Yet here I sit (on a blue, plastic stability ball) in an office with no air conditioning during SF's "summer" (September through October). The windows are open and my measly fan is blowing, but I am getting sticky nonetheless. Eew. Now I'm getting peevish...

With great disgust...

Living with Mallory and Schuyler is everything we feared it would be. They eat all of our food (including special leftovers and birthday treats) and never clean up after themselves. Just yesterday I found a crusty pasta bowl shoved under the sofa and I know it isn't Scott's, he hates pasta.

They are constantly arguing at a pitch that causes their poor, misused cats to howl out the windows in agony. One of our elderly neighbors actually stopped by on Monday night to ask us if our "drunk friends could please keep it down".

On top of that, I found Mallory rummaging through my "unmentionables" drawer late last night and when confronted said, "Oh, what? I thought I was in MY room." Please, like I'm going to buy that. I was all like, "If you need something I would appreciate it if you would ask first." And she was all, "Whatever..."

To make matters worse, they are always asking to borrow our cars for the most ridiculous things. Like they can't just WALK the 22 blocks to church on Sunday! People have to make sacrifices like that all over the world every day. If they were reeeally dedicated, they would walk. It just shows such a lack of gratitude for the things that they do have that most of the world doesn't. For instance, they have a Wii AND Rockband. Come on you guys, sell the toys and get a car. Duh! It's a good thing Scott and I are such awesome examples of prudence and kindness.

I guess Scott and I will just have to suck it up and live out our year contract. They are so disgusting that it will really be a trial though. Thanks for your prayers.




Sincerely,

Totally Kidding

Whitney's Word of the Day

pee·vish

Pronunciation: \ˈpē-vish\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English pevish spiteful
Date: circa 1530

1 : querulous in temperament or mood : fretful
2 : perversely obstinate
3 : marked by ill temper


My suggested use: "Mallory, you are awfully peevish and slow today."

And then she punched herself in the face...

Am I an irritable person? Probably. Sometimes. Would I like to be more kind-hearted and patient? Sure. Will that transformation happen any time soon? Survey says...nooo.

Someone in my office (we'll call her "Bertha", not that anyone I work with knows that I have a blog, but better safe than sorry) has a MOST obnoxious cell phone ring tone. First of all, isn't it a social rule that when at work you set your cell phone to either silent, vibrate or off? Perhaps not, but it should be. I can see that you might need your cell phone ON at all times if you are a high-powered executive or a teenager that doesn't know any better (blech). But you, Bertha, are neither of these. Bertha leaves her phone on the loudest setting technologically possible whether or not she is at her desk. Therefore, it RINGS while she is away and unable to answer it. The result is a face-clawing "BLING-LING-LING-LING! BLING-LING-LING-LING!BLING-LING-LING-LING!" approximately 10 times in a row.

Listen, it is my job to talk on the phone with clients (who usually have ears) and can make out background noises as I do not work in a plexiglass cube. Your phone, Bertha, blaring 15 feet away from me, would be considered an unprofessional sound. Apart from that, I hate it. Turn it off, turn it down, or ANSWER it for the love of...