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emmanation

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Archive for the ‘I make lists’ Category

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Saturday, November 5th, 2016

I’m developing a strange desire to get famous.

Strange?

That’s probably not right. Fame is a not insignificant part of the American Dream right? (What’s the rule about capitalizing the Dream part of that, do we do it or not? Is it a dream with a capital D or just, like, a dream?)

I’m developing a perfectly normal for my era and background desire to get famous.

Since I’m not actually *doing* anything to make that happen, second best is when other people who are super duper get famous instead. (As long as they’re not friends of mine. Everyone one I know needs to stay exactly where they are until we can all go together – that’s reasonable and fair right? Right.)

Cases in point:

- Rachel Bloom. Were you a theater kid? Are you watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend? If yes/no, your inner stage lover is so sad and doesn’t even know it.

- Issa Rae. I’m mad the whole time I’m watching Insecure because it’s so good. (Do I need therapy?)

- Georgia Hardstark. MY FAVORITE MURDER. When someone cofounds a podcast that’s so good you basically make a new best friend based just on talking about it (true story totally happened) … there’s no good end to this sentence. Point made (including the point that my heart is SUPER in this post can you tell?)

Uh… that’s all. Medium famous women who are cool who I want to be like who totally deserve their current fame levels and more!

Good post, Emma. Nablopomo is really bringing out the best in me.

 

not throwin’ away my

Thursday, August 18th, 2016

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.)

Anyway.

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.

 

let’s drink and watch: The Bachelor Episode 1

Friday, January 8th, 2016

There are some women down the hall from me at work, and they asked if I wanted to join a Bachelor bracket with them. I dig my immediate team, but … also I would like some super fun lady friends. So, for the very first time, I am watching the Bachelor. Ben (he himself) is from Denver, who knew. Anyway, I have sparkling wine and I paid Hulu extra monies so I wouldn’t have to watch commercials which REALLY works out in a show like this. Let’s go, people. 

Caila knew she had to dump her man after seeing ben on the bachelorette WHAT. We are off to a these-are-not-reasonable-people start.

Jubilee says ‘I’m on a mission to win Ben’s heart’ and she obviously thought it was the dumbest thing to say in the world. I’m guessing she was picturing her military friends watching this and internally cringing.
No one, Mandi. No one wants to be like everybody else. You’re SO UNIQUE, no one else has ever even wondered who wants to be like everyone else.
TWINS EVIL. Watch a horror movie sometime, Ben.
Wtf is a chicken enthusiast and why do you refer to them as your human babies, Tiara, do you know what humans are?
Ok I know I’ve had 20 chances to find this out, but do they all say something cheesy when they get out of the limo?
Oh a dick joke, that is super risky. That’d be me, and I’d currently be like ‘what the fuck was I thinking?’
Girl who didn’t tell him your name, he’s now thinking of you as ‘online stalker’, so .. whoops.
And also speak a language that Ben knows, it’s weird to force someone to not understand you.
DON’T TALK ABOUT THE OTHER GIRLS BOOBS oh my god I’m not going to be able to watch this show am I.
Ben was just visibly aroused by the twins which, chill your baloney, pony (which is something I say to Deaner when he’s getting all worked up, it’s not a dick reference)
MINIPONY. Awww, bye bye Lil Sebastian.
It’s weird how much I expected Ben to be freaked out by the woman who brought a save the date card. He’s literally there to find a wife. The patriarchy is in maaaaah head.
Oh I read about this host guy! He’s recently divorced and also looking for love, I guess? I wonder if he gets to chat with the ladies when Ben is otherwise engaged – he looks like he’s in his forties or fifties though so perhaps young women aren’t his thing.
I wanna be friends with Lace. I feel like that means she’s going to get kicked off.
BEN IS CALLING HIS DAD. If true, man, hugs to that guy. If staged, hugs to whoever had this idea, because it’s goddamn adorable.

If you quit your job to go on the Bachelor, you’re effectively saying that being his wife will be your job. Maybe he’s into that, maybe he ain’t, but … it doesn’t really bode well for thinking through your choices, maybe? Or maybe her job was fucking terrible, we don’t know her life. (Edited to add, she got the first rose so perhaps he’s into hiring a wifey.)

Oh Laces (which is what I would call Lace if we were friends), I think you maybe need to think about dating somewhere that isn’t TV. This doesn’t seem to be the best thing for your stability. Not that I think you’re unstable, just, stuff is hard, and processing it on TV seems even harder. Or you’re a little drunk? Or possibly both.
I wish the website had said that whats-er-face liked to be called Red Velvet. I would have picked my bracket differently. (Full disclosure, I don’t remember who was in my bracket or where, I’ll have to check tomorrow.)
Whoever had Ben call his dad also just suggested he say these women are out of his league. I hope that person is being well paid (or is Ben, I guess).
Giving out this many roses takes many times.
Crockett just got home and is asking me a lot of questions that are super good that I don’t know the answer to. Like, have there been twins before?
Laurens, there are four of you. One of you is going home.
LACES HONEY you got a rose.
Crockett thinks it’s for the best that Red Velvet did not get a rose, since Ben would just be guaranteeing himself a moment where he holds her hand as she dies of melanoma. Crockett is mean but also funny.
Success rate: I have no idea. I think I might have called one of the cancelled ladies, maybe, I’ll check tomorrow. Only …. twenty-four episodes to go? I have no idea. This is going to be awesome.
*Those two women who showed up in the middle and upset everyone are a mystery to me and I have no comment.

STARWARSSPOILERSGOAWAYIFYOU…

Tuesday, December 29th, 2015

You know. I’m not kidding, here, people. Two steps back if you don’t want things ruined. (DAD THIS MEANS YOU. Call me, we’ll go see it, THEN you can read this post.)

Ok, first and most brilliantly of me:

When Adam Driver took his helmet off (what, halfway through the flick?) I started laughing and couldn’t stop. I’m not sure what it was about his Kleenex-you-took-out-of-the-box-for-a-sneeze-but-then-forgot-about-when-you-didn’t-sneeze-so-you-just-left-it-and-it-got-all-dusty face that did it, but it just brought it out in me. Fortunately I had Crockett on one side of me and one of the theater’s only empty seats on the other, so I didn’t wildly anger anyone who was able to make eye contact with me.

Literally could not stop laughing, you guys. I had to pull my hat down over my eyes so I couldn’t see him just to calm down. You know how when someone has been tickling you, and then they wave their fingers in the general direction of your foot or armpit or whatever, and you laugh because you just can’t help it, even though your stomach muscles hurt from the laughing and they’re not even touching you? It was like that, except the tickling was Adam Driver’s stupid fucking child-making-a-bust-and-only-has-white-playdoh-left face trying to pretend he was HAN SOLO’S KID.

I digress.

Oh, wait, one more thing on that note: Crockett has been saying things like “Hannah, what are you talking about?” in the Kylo Ren voice and it slays me every goddamn time. Girls and Star Wars are two franchises that are not actor compatible, is what I’m saying. (I just had to google Adam Driver to remember that it was Kylo Ren and not Rilo Ken (Jenny Lewis, shades of) and again I started laughing. His face is just the everlasting WORST.)

We went to the flick on Christmas morning, with Crockett’s fam – mom, dad, brother, sis-in-law, nephews, and niece, and I think that was 100% the right way to do it. Everyone from brother on even got Star Wars shirts for Christmas! There was appropriate kid excitement, good camaraderie, I don’t know. The whole thing was super. Except that some of the pre-preview commercials were, um, not particularly child appropriate, which was weird. Like, guys, it’s STAR WARS. There will be kids. Maybe Cutty from House and the slobby guy from Private Practice banging in a car is best for a different audience?

So.

I’m not going to do a recap or anything, because if you’ve gotten this far, you’ve seen it or you’re a glutton for punishment. Instead, I have three critical questions.

  1. WHEN did Leia know that Han died? No one told her when it happened, and yet we cut to a scene of her crying. The pilots (hey, Poe, call me. I’m engaged and you’re fictional and look a lot like my fiance, so that should work out nicely) didn’t have info on what was going on in the … octagon thing. I asked Crockett and he said she knew immediately because she has the force. I asked my mom and she said it’s because Leia loved Han. Crockett, mom: I love you guys but those are stupid answers. Leia was surprised to see Han when she saw him on the tinyglasseslady’s planet, she doesn’t psychically sense him. She’s a general now, she gives orders, she doesn’t listen to wavelengths or whatever. I think someone told her and I think it was Chewbacca – she slipped him an ear peanut thingy (wow it has been a long day … you know, those little things? The little earphone microphone things? Am I wrong in believing those even have a name?) and he told her. Feel free to correct me as long as your answer is better than mom’s or Crockett’s.
  2. WHO is Rey? (Yeah, yeah, me and everyone else. I’m going with Luke’s daughter, but then WHO is Rey’s mama?)
  3. WAS (who what when where was, that’s how it goes) Carrie Fisher being filmed with a Barbara Walters interview lens? You know, the one with a little bit of Vaseline on it?

I’m going to go see it again, and this time I’m going to take blacked out glasses to put on when Adam Driver is onscreen. That way I miss the Solo tragedy AND and won’t be removed from the story by his if-he-were-on-GOT-we’d-assume-he-was-inbred face.

EDITED TO ADD: I just saw Carrie Fisher tweeted about people being mean about her aging, and I want to be clear. She is the best. While she is obviously super hot, she also has a dog named GARY FISHER and he has his own Instagram. My comment re her filming was not a dig at her at ALL but a legitimate question regarding the fuzziness of the screen when she was on it, it felt like. She’s lovely and I love her and would invite her to dinner with Tiny Fey and Amy Poehler and Regina Spektor and a) I would be the ugliest woman in the room and b) I would die damn happy.

shut up and dance

Wednesday, September 30th, 2015

I started a post about Pinterest and cultural appropriation like, half an hour ago, and it’s going nowhere. Tomorrow. Or, you know, soon.

So let’s talk about amazing songs instead, huh? Cause earlier tonight an excellent friend of mine who has been on the blog whose nickname I cannot quite conjure up at the mo’ finally quit the company that we both used to work at, and it’s been a long time coming, and he had one of those ‘hey congrats man!!!’ happy hours where if you’re an ex-employee you know a lot of faces and many fewer names and you drink a fair amount and answer the so-what-are-you-up-to-now questions as quickly as possible because you’re going to lose them after the word statistician anyway. That kind of happy hour makes me want to listen to songs.

So.

Nathaniel Rateliff and the Nightsweats:

Elle King:

I’m not going to type the name of this band because I find it stupid:

Each amazing, yes no maybe?