Archive for the ‘cringy moments’ Category

My mom grew up going to church, but she had given up on organized religion by the time I was a kid.  Despite this fact, my mom is often baffled by how little her children know about religion.

Last week, my mom, sister and niece visited. Each night they were here, my four year old niece would typically choose to sleep in her grandma’s bed rather than with her mom.

One night, after my niece had said “Bless you” many times to my mom’s many sneezes,* my mom decided that she should say a prayer in thanks for her family. When she started her prayer, however, my niece got a bit weirded out.

“Who are you talkin’ to, Gramma?” she asked.

“I’m talking to God,” my mom answered.

“Is he in here?” she asked, more concerned.

My mom then went into a little explanation of how God is a good guy, always around to look after people. Later it became clear that my niece was unconvinced by the description, because my niece left the room as soon as my mom dozed off. Her explanation?

“I was scared of that nice man Gramma was talking to in our room.”

* When my sister was little, she thought that the word for sneeze was bless you. She would say things like, “I blessyou’d all over my hand.” It was cute and gross at the same time.


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I’ve been lucky enough to marry a man who makes me laugh every single day.
The other night I felt a pain on the side of my tongue. I stuck it out so that Evan could see if there was some sort of wound there.
“There’s a little hole there,” he says. “It’s the perfect size for one of those little worms to live in. That’s probably what it is…a worm hole.”
The conversation continued as Evan pondered what it would be like to have a worm living in his tongue.
“The worm could tell me if what I was eating had poison in it. Of course I would have to say…Too late Worm, the poison is already in my mouth.”

Those of you that know Evan will not be surprised in the least at this story as Evan is known amongst friends and family as having quite a fascination for all things related to parasites. For awhile, he had a parasite blog going on his myspace page, but it died out when he actually got a job and had to work for a living. And, while he does not have an MD, he believes himself to be an expert in all thing medical (well, really all things in general), so of course he would first diagnose a parasite and then ponder how helpful said parasite might be.

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Evan and I went to see “Music and Lyrics” last weekend. By the time we got a parking spot in downtown San Mateo, the theater was pretty crowded. A nice teenage couple shifted seats so that we could sit with them in the back row of the movie theater.

What I found most amusing from our movie going experience, however, was not the movie itself, it was watching Evan squirm as the teenage couple next to him “made out” in quite a slurping manner for the majority of the movie. Now this was not entirely surprising to me, because they were a teenage couple and they were sitting in the very back of the movie theater, but Evan was more than horrified.

“I can’t believe that they would waste $20 on movie tickets if all they were going to do was make out the entire time,” Evan says on the drive home, as I continue to chuckle about Evan’s unfortunate seat in the theater.

I’m beginning to think that my husband is either 1) cheap or 2) never was a teenage boy as I believe that most teenagers that go to a movie with a date and didn’t end up kissing would be more likely to think that the $20 was a waste of money than those that do.

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I was going to spend the weekend doing something more exciting than sitting around the house and knitting, but I seem to have caught the flu that has been raging through my workplace.  I’ve been spending the weekend so far sitting around moaning about how crappy I feel and watching my new-found love, Grey’s Anatomy.

Evan had put the first season on my ipod for me and I watched the first couple of episodes of the show as I was coming back from Oregon on Monday.  Combining the medical drama with the fact that I was leaving behind some of my favorite people (and their teeny, tiny baby) proved to be too much for me and I spent the majority of the flight sobbing.  Lucky Evan got to pick up his tear-stained wife at the airport.

Thankfully, I am not alone in the crying on airplanes thing.  There was a “This American Life” episode that talked about this exact phenomenon.  Listen to it while I sit on the couch, eating orange sherbet and moaning about how sick I am.

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Right before the holidays, jenn tagged me with this meme. I didn’t get a chance to do it then, so I’m doing it now.

THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the 6 weird things about you. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

  1. I have an extreme phobia about hills, especially driving up them. I always imagine that the car is going to flip backwards and topple end over end back down the hill. One time we were driving around the hills near downtown Portland and I was so scared that I was sobbing. I wouldn’t have been embarassed if it had just been Evan in the car, but his brother was in the car. This was before Evan and I were married and I was sure that my future brother-in-law was going to return home and tell his family that Evan was dating a crazy.
  2. One of my main motivations for jogging is that I get to see all of the neighborhood cats and dogs out in their yards. One time I saw a bunny and I always, always have to jog down that street now.
  3. I’m not much of a meat eater in general, but I truly hate seafood. I’ve tried to like sushi, but it makes me gag.
  4. When I was growing up, despite never living in a rough neighborhood, I was perpetually convinced that someone was going to break into my room through my window and murder me. I spent alot of time figuring out contorted sleeping positions that wouldn’t make it look like my bed was just a jumble of blankets, so the murderer wouldn’t be tempted to break in because he wouldn’t see me.
  5. I’m completely and utterly tone deaf. This made it very hard to play the violin.
  6. In the middle of the night, I wake up, gasp, and smack Evan. I have no memory of this, but Evan says that it happens regularly. Maybe is stems from number 4?

Most of the blogs I’ve read have already done this meme, but if you haven’t and you want to, leave me a comment so I can read your responses. If you don’t have a blog, feel free to leave your answers in the comments.

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His natural habitat

On Wednesday night, I asked Evan why Quincy wasn’t in his box in the corner of the bedroom. (He actually has a special leopard print bed in our room, but he rarely sleeps in it if there is a laundry basket or an empty cardboard box around. For awhile he was frightened of it. Maybe it, like our bed, was haunted?) He shrugged and we went to bed.

The next morning I again asked Evan if he’d seen Quincy. He mentioned that he’d heard him meowing, so he was around somewhere. (Quincy has a tendancy to stand somewhere in the house and meow until we or, ideally, Muffin, come and find him. This can get annoying and so sometime we ignore it.) I meant to look for him before we left for, but we were in a rush because Evan was hoping to find a wii at Target on the way. (No such luck.)

When we returned home after work that day, we heard Quincy crying as soon as we opened the front door. It turns out that he’d been locked in the downstair’s bathroom (where he likes to drink from the sink) for almost twenty-four hours. I felt absolutely horrible, as I was the most likely culprit for shutting him in there. But less than an hour after he had regained his freedom, where did we find him?

I’ve mentioned this before, and I’ll say it again, the bathroom must be Quincy’s natural habitat.

A post-script to all of my pregnant friends. If you let me watch your babies, I promise, promise that I will not leave them locked in the bathroom. I can’t promise, however, that Evan won’t attempt some sort of psychological experiment with (on) them, but he tried tons of these on my youngest niece and she has (so far) turned out just fine.

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Last week, I went to a work retreat where I had to give a talk in front of 200+ people. Anyone that knows me in real life, knows that I get super, super nervous about any public speaking event. In high school, I loved public speaking. I was more than willing to give blathering, unrehearsed speeches to the masses, like the one I gave to the entire student body about the huge amount of garbage the school produced in a day and how we needed to recycle. I think that my lack of fear resulted from some combination of not really caring what most of my high school peers thought of me and thinking that I had some awesome, unique voice.
Somewhere in the transition between high school and Reed, I started getting freaked out about public speaking. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a ton of really smart people, people whose opinions I actually cared about, people that actually had interesting perspectives. Probably because of the insecurities brought on by being away from home for the first time in such an intense learning environment, I started getting completely freaked out about public speaking. It got to the point that I actually threw up before giving any sort of talk.
In grad school, I developed coping skills (mostly giving so many talks that I eventually got numb to the process), but when I found out a couple of months ago that I would have to give a talk on my group’s research to a major cross section of the researchers and important people at my company, I started getting nervous. As the date of the retreat approached, my coping skills were put to the test as I waited for a visit from “Christa, the anxious vomit fairy”.

While I’m sure it would make much better blog fodder if I had ended up puking on the stage in front of everyone, I am happy to say that the talk went well. My boss did say, however, that he thought I might faint during the first five minutes or so, but I figure no vomit = good talk.* Right?

The rest of the retreat was more enjoyable. I had a great time getting to know my new co-workers in a more relaxed and socially lubricated setting. I also got to see a red tailed hawk, a super cute family of raccoons, the ocean and, my one true love of living in the bay area, the fog.

* I love writing language equations. My fifth grade math team had t-shirts made that said 4 NOITs = US. No one got it. (We were too frugal to pay for the K and W.) My other favorite is Two = One and One = None. These were the words of wisdom from my friend, the Rhodes Scholar, that he said repeatedly as he packaged up his stuff to ship to England. He put all of his items in plastic bags, before packaging them in boxes to be mailed. Two plastics bags for each item, as Two = One and One = None. Evan and I were going to have it engraved in our wedding rings, but it wouldn’t fit.

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