Monthly Archives: July 2009

Because it wasn’t fun enough already

Posted by Elizabeth in Beach, Daily

Okay, this is a quickie because it’s my night to cook supper and I’m between baked potatoes and a casserole. Here’s the rundown so far on how The Vacation’s going:

  • It’s so windy here right now that our umbrella has blown away three times and twice we didn’t even notice until it was too late.
  • My SIL came down with the stomach flu yesterday and my niece got sick last night. We’re overrun with ginger ale and saltines. And Lysol and Clorox wipes.
  • Somehow I twisted my knee in the ocean…waist deep. I wish I had a super cool story about how I was dodging some 10-footer or something, but the truth is that I was standing still watching my nieces in the waves. It’s so not funny that I can’t even try to make it funny.
  • Brian’s been to the grocery store three times in 24 hours and he’s in hog heaven. Also, he’s been listening to Bob Seger and now we all have “Night Moves” stuck in our head.
  • I’ve only read one book and have only mooched a half-bottle of wine so far. There is still work to be done on this trip!

Tomorrow the masses show up and we celebrate a certain someone’s 71st birthday. More reports to come – stay tuned.

By the numbers

Posted by Elizabeth in Anxiety, Beach, Listing, Lucille & Charles, Muse, WTF?

Tomorrow we leave for the beach for a week. I’ve been talking this up for several reasons, not the least of which is that it’s the first time I’ll be spending a week with my in-laws since…ever. We’ve done long weekends, short weekends, overnights, but never a whole big fat solid week. It will be interesting. Also it’s the first time in the five years since we’ve been married that ALL the peeps will be together as one. For at least one night, all of us big and small will gather under one roof, celebrate a birthday and wake up the next day in the same house.

So. Here it is…by the numbers.

30: The number of people that will have drinks at our shrimp boil porch party.

24: The number of pounds my suitcase will most likely weigh.

17: The number of people on the most crowded night in the house.

12: The number of two-liter drinks BB has purchased.

12: The number of two-liter drinks BB has purchased that have both caffeine and sugar.

7: The number of nights we’re staying. (We think.)

4: The number of pork tenderloins it will take to feed half our group.

8: The number of wine bottles accompanying me on the trip.

11: The number of books I plan to read on the sand.

45: The SPF on our six bottles of sunscreen. (It won’t be enough. Expect another post about sunburn.)

6: The number of children we’ll have running amongst us.

2: The number of hours it will take us to get there. (It’s not enough.)

2: The number of cats that will have shred our furniture to pieces because we left them for a week.

1: The number of people I would actually do all this for. You’re a lucky duck, BB!

Things that should have warning labels but don’t

Posted by Elizabeth in Addiction to, Anxiety, Daily, Listing, Muse, Politics, The Almighty TV

1. Annual conferences for bloggers

2. In-laws

3. Lime tortilla chips

4. Home ownership

5. Waking up before 7:00 am

6. Children (but only other people’s, not yours)

7. Some reality television

8. Money

9. Sex (but only other people’s, not yours)

10. Amateur “photographers”

11. Restaurants that serve cheese in its hot, melted state

12. Graduate school

13. Marriage

14. Reading other people’s blogs

15. The “premium” TV channels

16. Courtney Love’s tweets

17. New friends

18. Sarah Palin

19. Massachusetts cops

“Listing” is inspired by ABDPBT:
listbutton

Pick me! Pick me!

Posted by Elizabeth in Anxiety, Lamenting, Muse

In the blogging world, BlogHer is kind of the gold standard for women who do this, and right now THIS VERY MINUTE in Chicago, bloggers from all over the place have converged in one spot to give each other the once-over and exchange business cards and drink a lot and point out people they know from The Interwebs at BlogHer ’09.

I am not one of those people.

Instead, I’m one of the bloggers sitting at home on her ass, reading about Anna’s encounter with Nancy W. Kappes, Paralegal, Jenny’s panic attack and subsequent suitcase swimming and other various and sundry accounts of fun and/or bizarre happenings. All week long I’ve been trying to quell my jealousy by thinking that a) I’m going to the beach next week with All Those People and therefore couldn’t possibly be in Chicago if I tried, b) no one would know me there anyway and c) surely I would be arrested if I did go, because I think it’s illegal to find out people’s room numbers and wait for them there.

Also, I think that my blog experience is like one of those movies where the demented person believes she has all these friends and this life, but really she’s made it up in her head and actually none of it exists. In my mind, I like to think that there are large groups of people gathered round their Google Reader, anxiously awaiting my next post so that they can send it to someone famous who says, “That Elizabeth! She’s something! Hand her this check as an advance on her first book!”. In reality, my friends and family read this because I make them and occasionally Brian reads it so he can get mad at me for something. So far as I know, none of them possess a check large enough to advance my first book.

The point of all of this (see? it’s taken me this long to get to my point, and that’s why I’m at home on my ass instead of at BlogHer) is that I wish I were brave/successful/all-around fabulous enough to circle the networks in Chicago, but I’m not. I’m the last one left on this side of Red Rover. I’m the benchwarmer for kickball. I’m the girl you re-introduce yourself to because you can’t remember if you’ve met me before.

Regular People

One of these days I’m bound and determined to wake up and change my own mind. But for now, I’m Elizabeth D. Baker, Regular Person.