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You like me! Of course, you probably don't know me very well.

not throwin’ away my

August 18th, 2016 by biscuit

You guys my neighbors are SO LOUD.

It’s like they’re PLAYING and ENJOYING LIFE ALL THE TIME basically.

It’s fine (said grouchily), really. I want people to be happy (said begrudgingly). I love the noise (said bitchily, which is what those first two ones meant too – but you guys knew that.)


We’re going to the mountains tomorrow! For two whole days! This will be the third time we’ve done it this summer, because Colorado makes that shit easy, and right now I’m trying to pack. There’s two approaches to this packing thing, as far as I’m concerned:

  • Prepare to look cute for every eventuality
  • Take one pair of pants and two shirts because that’s what’s going to get worn anyway

I’m torn. Looking cute is key, but also, it’s not like there are any surprises in store. I’m going to go for a long run Saturday morning, so those clothes are in the bag (ha). Crockett is going to pick me up from work, so by default I’ll have whatever I put on tomorrow morning. I could probably get through the whole weekend with the combo of running and work clothes, in a pinch.

Last week I basically wore pajamas on Friday, so that'll be good.

Last week I basically wore pajamas on Friday, so I’ve set an excellent precedent for vacation friendly clothes. Half of this was not allowed by our dress code.

This was a long lead-in to a dumb topic: dress codes at the office. My office technically has one. Our ‘don’t’ list is:

  • Sweatsuits (wut, srsrly. I pay a HUGE amount of attention to what people wear to work, and even our most casual person wouldn’t wear a sweatsuit. Like, matching sweatpants and sweatshirt. That’s what they mean, right? Can you buy those still, even? I feel like the last one I saw was on Amy Pohler in Mean Girls?)
  • Work out clothes (*and* if you were going to say this, WHY BOTHER WITH ‘SWEATSUIT?’)
  • Halter tops or beach wear (mmkay, I’m with ya)

And then we get fun. Also on the don’ts list:

  • Tee shirts
  • Shorts
  • Flip flops (any sandals must have rear straps)
  • Sneakers (only permissible on Fridays)

While this is a perfectly reasonable and respectable line for a company to draw, this is Boulder county. There was audible chuckling when this showed up in everyone’s inbox. My row, specifically, is full of mathematicians and I think half of them don’t own shoes that aren’t flip flops or sneakers, and tee shirts are locked in daily wear.

I was wearing cute dress shorts and open back sandals on that day, in case you were wondering. Rebel.

The thing is, no one seems to be enforcing this. Like, bosses don’t care. HR doesn’t care. Only the person who wrote the email cared? And that person might be somewhere that isn’t Boulder county? I think that person might actually be in California … and they clearly don’t know how cool my office is. V cool, is the answer to that.

If I was going to write a dress code email that no one was going to abide by, I would have made it more interesting. Like …

  • If wearing pants fancier than jeans, must have either established a pattern of non jeans wearing (2+ times/week) or must be able to provide written proof of client meeting onsite (exception for interviews, in that case creating a fake client is not only permissible but encouraged)
  • No boring socks if they’re going to be visible at any point (literally just for my entertainment)
  • No repeated wears of any non-jean/non-shoe item of clothing in any two week period (same)
  • The company will provide an anonymous voting system in which you can post prospective outfits, but if you get more than 5 thumbs up you *must* wear it within a week
  • Price and source of shoes and jewelry must be provided on request at any time
  • Going barefoot to the printer if your shoes are under your desk is totally fine
  • If two people wear the same shirt accidentally, they must switch desks for the day
  • On Fridays where the projected high temp is >90, everyone must wear either shorts, a tank top, or a goofy hat

I dunno, guys. I’ve thought it was Friday all day today. Hit me with your super fun dress code rules and don’t judge me for rambling, k? K. Love.


I’ll follow you until you love me

August 14th, 2016 by biscuit

I’m going through old blog posts for a wedding related project (it’s a secret, you nosey parker! Nosy Parker! No see parkour!) and I just found a Sunday Talky I made (remember those? Man, I used to be a good blogger. High five, that Emma) where Cloey and Maida are both in it.

And now I’m sad.

I miss my Clo.

Damn dogs and their non-human life spans.

Fortunately I'm not lacking for dog compansionship to help me through.

Fortunately I’m not lacking for dog companionship to help me through.


you have reached your final destination

August 12th, 2016 by biscuit

Crockett got on a airplane without me yesterday. He’s now in the UP for family love and various two-wheeled-foot-powered shenanigans.

(Did I mention he did very well in a 68 mile mountain bike race at NINE THOUSAND FEET recently? I didn’t?? What kind of proud pre-wife am I, honestly?)

Maybe ten minutes into his flight, he started smelling smoke.

Then chicken.

Then the pilot turned the plane around and landed back in Denver because some birds had met an unfortunate end and the plane needed to be poked and prodded before it could be allowed to continue on to it’s final destination. It was fine, he’s where he needed to be, and Southwest has graciously credited him back part of his purchase price without him even asking. All around, it could have gone considerably worse.

Which leads me, in a round about way, to the very fine Final Destination films. I cannot be the only one who thinks of them every time I’m in a airport bathroom and I notice music being piped in, can I? I mean, it’s never John Denver (that I’ve noticed), but still – every damn time. Don’t even get me started on when I see a truck with logs in the back on the highway.

Final Destination: Plane crash. Not birds. Electrical failure? I’ve seen it 10000 times and the fact that I don’t know what the reason for the crash is means that it’s v v unimportant. The best death sequence, hands down, is the teacher when everything in her house is trying to kill her like they’re the cartoons from Beauty and the Beast except instead of cleanliness they’re focused on fate and nothing but sweet, deadly fate.

Final Destination 2: Enormous car crash on the highway, started by logs falling off the back of a big ol’ trucks. Wait, not logs. Trees. Redwoods, basically. The survivor from the first film teaches everyone there is no ‘safe’, there is only paranoid and doomed.

Final Destination 3: I HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS ONE. Trust me, I’m rectifying that wrong as I type these words. Roller coaster malfunction, in case you’ve sadly missed it as well.

The Final Destination: Basically a NASCAR crash that sends deadly detritus into the stands. I’ve seen it but remember nothing. Based on the name, I think they expected this would be last. Twas not to be.

Final Destination 5: Bridge collapse! Everyone loves a bridge collapse. I think I’m mixing this up in my head with The Mothman Prophecies.

It’s been five years since that last one, so I’m thinking Final Furious 7 … no, wait. Final Destination 7 should be any day now. In case they think they’ve played out ‘crashes’ (spoiler, they mostly have), I’ve got some ideas for them:

  • Surfing accident – let’s get Kate Bosworth acting AND surfing again (<3 you 4ever Blue Crush)
  • Food poisoning – sure, the premonition would have to be hours long at a minimum, but it’d be a fun new technique! Maybe it’s on a cruise ship, and Kate Bosworth can be the body boarding instructor!
  • Zoo accident – lions? Gorillas? Seaworld disaster? So many choices, so many opportunities for Kate Bosworth to be an animal trainer.

I guess what I’m saying is a) Crockett is super duper, b) I love these movies, and c) I have surprisingly strong feelings about Kate Bosworth’s current underutilization in fine American cinema.



April 14th, 2016 by biscuit

Do you ever feel like someone is lying to you for no reason?

In that a) you have no reason to think they’re lying and b) they have no reason to actually be lying, and yet somehow you still totally think they are?

A dude at work today told me a long story, apropos of literally fucking nothing, about his contractor shooting a finishing nailing into said fellow’s leg, and how the nail is still there. It was pointless, and poorly told, and I feel like he was LYING, but also why on earth would he be? Ridiculous. (Me. Or him, if I’m right, I guess, but probably me.)

Also we’re planning our wedding because we’re getting maaaarrrieeed and we weren’t really sure if we’d pick colors. It didn’t seem super important, because we’re pulling the trigger in an art gallery so the decorations are pretty much built in, ya feel me? However, so our moms could coordinate and we could think about … I don’t know, napkins? Flowers? I ordered this book for us and it comes tomorrow, maybe it will have a ‘what your colors are for’ chapter … anyway, we sort of picked some.

And then I realized that two thirds of them are the Broncos colors. Ish.

I mean, go athletes etc, but, no.

Sabres, maybe.



April 13th, 2016 by biscuit

I was trying to park downtown in our lil town to meet Crockett this afternoon, and these dudes did this weird thing.

I’m going to draw you a word picture.

A big white SUV thing (Ford Expansion? Chevy Canyonero?) pulled into the front of two empty parking spaces (miiiiiracle, there were no spaces anywhere downtown for two full circles of the main and side streets) and I tried to pull in behind. I am not the greatest parallel parker, and as I was pulling in the driver of the SUVbigdickthing clicked that auto button that opens the big rear lid thing.

I know all the car words. Hot, I know.

So the big flat rear thing starts to open, and cuts into the space I’m pulling (fairly poorly) into, so I stop. With the rear of my car full in the road. Picture me at a forty five degree angle, halfway into the space, ok? So my whole carbutt is totally in the road, and these two guys get out of the SUVquadrupleDsthing and come around to get their shit out of the rear. Slowly.

I drive an old Scion xB, so I have a short carfront thing, so these dudes are … six feet from me. They don’t make eye contact, but instead pull out their jackets and bags and put their jackets on and whatever.

At this point, they are camped in the front third of my space. There is nothing I can do without revving my engine directly at them and forcing them to jump out of the way, and there’s no way to know if their five foot tall rear liftypanel (I swear I’m not doing this on purpose, I just don’t know what these things are called!) will close once I’ve parked, so I really need to wait for them to move and shut their SUVbootyfordaaaaaaaaaysthing before I finish parking.

Bags out. Suit coats on.

Oh, but wait! There’s a dude across the street! Probably, they should beckon him over, and then have a discussion under the big trunkbrella thing! (If I haven’t sufficiently explained it, they’re standing in the space in this picture here.)


It was bizarre, people. It probably only took two or three minutes, but that is a very long time when your carbutt is in the road and weirdos are ignoring you in the most ignory of ignoring ways.

They got out of the way, closed the trunk, and moved towards the sidewalk.

Then one of the guys stopped and took out his phone.

And THEN I revved my engine. And then he moved to the sidewalk, and then I parked very very badly. When I tell this story (in a significantly shorter format but with many more hand gestures), though, I will finish by parking like a rockstar. (In my own fake story, I’ll let this all happen and then show them by parallel parking well? Yes, thank you for asking, that’s exactly what I’ll do.)

PS – I just read this over, and realized I didn’t address the fact that their disregard for my predicament was likely yet another manifestation of manspreading. It was.