I don't want yo' stinkin' apple cider!

I’ve blogged about people mistaking me for being pregnant (thrice), but have I ever blogged about people mistaking me for being a lot younger than I really am? Now I know some, if not the majority of you are laughing and saying that this is a good thing and that I’ll thank them when I’m 40, which may be true, but at this moment in time I do not find it amusing or flattering. In fact, I find it annoying and insulting! It would be one thing if these people thought I was, say, 21 or 22, but the fact that these people are convinced I’m not old enough to vote yet, let alone drink, is so incredibly frustrating!

One Sunday afternoon in ‘09, Sister, our hubbies and I went out to brunch at the hotel where Sister got married. We ladies were waiting at the table as the boys grazed the buffett when our server came over and asked Sister if she would like some champagne. Sister agreed and when she was finished pouring the server turned around and placed the champagne bottle back in the ice bucket, completely bypassing me. Sister and I communicated to each other through awkward faces and I turned to stare daggers at the woman. The server noticed my gaze and said to me, rather condescendingly as if speaking to a child, “Would you like some sparkling apple cider?” My mouth fell agape, for I couldn’t believe this woman just asked me this question in the tone that she did. I turned to Sister who replied to the server, “Uh…she’s um…” The server looked at her, smiling and nodding expectantly, “she’s 27,” my sister finished, pointing at me. The server was embarrassed, apologized profusely, asked me if I, too, wanted champagne (to which I said yes, mostly out of spite) and continued to tell me that I’ll be grateful in 20 years when I’m mistaken to be 10 years younger. Needless to say I was not amused and I chose to decline eye contact with her for the rest of the meal. She did, however, continue to fill up my champagne glass so I guess there’s a plus side to the incident. When Hubby returned to the table I told him the story and he said to me, “Well, she either thought you were 16 or that you were pregnant.” “Or maybe both!” I joked. And what was with her emphasizing the fact that the apple cider was sparkling? Was she trying to make me feel like a “big girl” for being offered it? Pah-lease!

Cut to two years later when my coworker and I were meeting other people for drinks at a bar down the street from the office. We had gotten to the bar rather early so we staked claim at a table in the corner. But before we were given the chance to sit down, we were asked by the manager for our ID’s. This was rather ironic because not two minutes earlier we were discussing in the car how obnoxious it is when we’re mistaken for underage. I guess my co-worker has the same issues. So the manager cards us and plays the “I’m going to be cool and act like this ID isn’t real” card and gives my co-worker a hard time. He eventually believes us and we grab a seat. A few minutes later, while we’re still waiting for the other people to show, we decide we’re going to order at the bar. The bartender, who was present and aware before when we were carded by the manager, carded us yet again before she served us. What. The. Heck? You saw this happen the first time! Way to give us a hard time. Unfortunately the $9, 2 oz pour of red wine wasn’t worth it.

Here I am, b*tching and moaning about how I look young, but in which department do I do my clothes shopping? Yeah, that’s right, Juniors. I guess it serves me right. If it looks like a duck and all. Maybe, subconsciously, I’m trying to hold on to my youth because I’m not ready to grow up. I’m married, a homeowner and pushing 30, so maybe I want to act as young as I can for as long as I can. Or maybe the Juniors department is the only department that can fit my I’m-not-pregnant-but-it-looks-like-I-am belly and butt. Whatever it is, I don’t think I’ll ever shop in the Women’s department. I’ll be sporting some skinny, low-rise, boot cut jeans until I’m too old to remember what jeans are. The clothes in the Juniors department are just way too cute to pass up!

Jeans courtesy of the Juniors dept. in Macy's & shirt from Juniors dept. in Target!

President's Day

Thank you President Washington and President Lincoln for being born. Not only did you do some awesome stuff during your presidency, but you also allowed your people, many moons following, to have a day off in your honor. I love birthdays where the party guests go home (or in this case stay home) with gifts, too.

Unfortunately Hubby works retail so today was another normal Monday for him. As much as I wanted to sleep in, I got up with him and started doing some chores around the house. I think my day is going to consist of Buffy Season 5, yoga and some much needed clothes shopping. If you remember one of my previous posts about summer clothes, I'm due for some new t-shirts and shorts, but I'm not planning on buying those. I'll just see what's there, what fits and go on my merry way. I'm not much of a shopper. I need to be in the mood to shop. Today I'm not much in the mood but I'm trying to psyche myself up so I look forward to it, else I'll just bail. Maybe afterward I'll take pictures and post the stuff that I got...because I know everybody is so interested.

Like me please, cheese!

I had the most amazing salad for lunch today, courtesy of Jerry's Famous Deli. It's called the Cindy Salad and it consists of baby mixed greens, Granny Smith apple slices, raspberries, candied walnuts, and crumbled blue cheese. It. Is. AMAZING! And pretty, too.

Cindy salad platter. Photo courtesy of the JFD website.

The only problem with the salad, if I can even call it a problem since I seem to ignore these things, is the bleu cheese crumbles. I love cheese, but unfortunately I'm lactose intolerant. Actually, I'm not even 100% sure that's true. One year, many moons ago in my early 20's (because, you know, I'm so old now) I was having some stomach problems and decided to get a doctor's opinion. I described the various sounds and feelings my stomach was presenting and the doctor suggested I go a week without dairy and see if the problems stop. Sure enough I did just that and within a day or two my stomach felt much better.

Now the doctor might as well have told me that I could no longer breathe, the news of lactose intolerance was that disheartening. I love me some cheese, milk and especially ice cream, so you can only imagine how this diagnosis affected me. Yeah, that's right, I ignored it. Telling me to stop eating dairy is like telling a kid to stop playing with Legos. It aint gonna happen! But of course when I do eat dairy I almost immediately regret it. But the tastes and smells and the delicious pairings of cheese are so tempting that the act totally outweighs the outcome. I just love cheese so much! :::tear:::

Man! Now I'm hungry again. Maybe I can track down some Cheez-Its.

Food Babies

There has been three incidents - count them, three - where people have mistaken me for being pregnant, usually after I had just eaten. The first time I was working at my old job and the delivery man flat out asked me if I was pregnant. I said no and he went on to explain how amazing fatherhood is and how happy it makes him. The worst part about that experience was that I had just lost 9lbs so I can only imagine what he would've said if I were heavier. "Oh my God, it must be twins!!"

The second time Hubby and I were on our honeymoon. We had just partaken in our hotel's Happy Hour where I had consumed a very large and hearty piece of cheesecake. Have I mentioned I can't pass up sweets? Afterward, we went shopping in the marketplace of Oahu and was in the process of buying a not-so-cheap chain for my pendant. We were in the middle of the sale and Shelley, our salesperson, asked, "So, when are you due?" "Excuse me?" I inquired. "Are you expecting?" she asked again, motioning to my stomach as to emphasize her question. "Um, no," I replied, "I'm just fat." Yeah, Shelley, how does your foot taste?

The third and most recent incident occurred while on a cruise with my family during Christmas vacation of last year. I was alone in my cabin getting ready for dinner when our cabin boy stopped by to drop off some BINGO cards. I don't remember how it came up, but almost immediately into the visit he asked me how far along I was. I asked him to repeat his question, because I couldn't believe this was happening to me yet again, and when I told him that I wasn't along at all he responded with, "Really? Wow. I'm surprised." Oh, are you, Jacob? Surprised, eh? You'll be even more surprised once I kick you in the teeth! That time I hadn't even eaten!

So, the moral of the story is, unless you're absolutely, positively, 100% sure that a woman is pregnant, DON'T ASK! And even then, I still suggest you let her bring it up in conversation. Learn from my experiences people!

UPDATE: I just remembered that there were FOUR incidents when I was mistaken for being pregnant. I was at a baby shower and I was talking to another guest about the mother-to-be and she motioned to my stomach and said something along the lines of, "oh, I see you're pregnant, too." No, lady, I'm not, but thanks for making me feel like a whale.

Walking: A dangerous lunchtime activity!

My co-worker and I went for a walk during our lunch break today, the first in I don't know how long. There we were, strolling through the residential Beverly Hills neighborhood near which we work, minding our own business, when we came to a 4-way stop. Being good doobies that we are, we looked both ways, saw that we were in no immediate danger, and hopped off the curb. We were more than half way to the other side of the road when we see a car approaching the Stop. He was slowing down but didn't seem to be stopping. And he didn't stop, not according to the law that is. Maybe it was a "California stop" but he definitely rolled right on through the stop sign, almost hitting us, and he didn't notice what he was doing until we were up to the driver's side window. He actually had to slam on his breaks to stop. While I was coaxing my heart to come down from my throat, I was debating about wailing on his car and screaming obscenities to his rolled up window. I didn't and I was happy I didn't because I noticed that the man was about 80 years old and probably had lost his peripheral vision. 

I'm not an ageist or anything, but excuse me if I don't think people over the age of 70 should be driving. Or if they are going to be allowed to drive, the least that can be done is a requirement that beginning at a certain age, people need to take a driving test every couple of years. It's safer for everyone that way.

At least the upside is that I was able to get my 30 minute exercise in, even if it means forfeiting my life for it.

Wow, 2011, where'd you come from?

Ok, I’ve been slacking, I admit it. My last post was in September. September! Of 2010 no less! What have I been doing with myself?

Well, for starters, there was Thanksgiving and Christmas - both excellent holidays, mainly because I got to eat. I love to eat. I love food. Some people eat to live. Me? I LIVE TO EAT! I especially live to eat junk food. My sweet tooth is insanely large. I would have dessert for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert if I had a choice. I guess I do have a choice, but stupid adulthood stops me from doing that. Stupid adulthood. But I digress…

My parents came out to California for a few days during Thanksgiving because 2010 was the first year that neither Sister nor I would be home for Christmas. The visit was a combination of Thanksgiving and Christmas because my parents had all of our Christmas gifts shipped to us so we could open them together. A little unorthodox but it got the job done. Cut to a month later, Christmas Day, where Hubby and I spent the day alone, watching movies, opening gifts and eating Chinese food. Best. Christmas. Ever. I’m still tasting that delicious Orange Chicken. Hubby got me a fancy Cuisinart Single Serve Coffee Machine and I think he’s used it more than I have. I’m glad it’s brought us both joy! I do love my coffee after all :-)

I was excited that the weather finally cooled off for a couple of months so I could wear my previously posted about fleece jacket. I don’t like the Summer…never have. I don’t like to be hot and sticky and I don’t like wearing shorts or tank tops because I feel those articles always accentuate the parts of my body I despise the most. By the end of the season the T-shirts and skirts that I do wear are tattered and torn and I have to go shopping again. The upside is I get to buy new clothes; the downside is I always forget this until a 90 degree day rolls around and I have nothing to wear. A vicious cycle.

Our softball league ended after the New Year. It was supposed to end sooner but we missed three games due to a muddy field and we had to make them up. We started off really crappy – it was clear after the first few games that this would be “just for fun”, but by the end of the season we were no longer the worst team in the league. Thankfully. I think in total we won three actual games, tied once and won by default twice (the other teams forfeited). I don’t think we’ll join again in 2011, though, because it just proved to be too much of a commitment. You can call us selfish, but we’re not willing to give up our Sunday mornings again. At least we had a good time and we met some new people and had a few laughs. That’s all I was really interested in anyway.

All in all 2011 has started off pretty great. There’s been some bumps along the way but nothing I can’t handle. Hopefully it’ll continue that way. I’ll try to post more but I’m not committing to anything!