Friday, March 25, 2011

Fashion Friday : March 21 - 25

Don't worry, Dear Readers.  This isn't turning into a fashion blog (yet).  I fairly certain that I am too lazy for that at this point, inasmuch as I don't have the ability to a) pick out a nice outfit, b) take a picture of me in it, and c) write about it every day – but, gosh, I admire those who can!

I have been wanting to keep a record of what I wear to work – despite the fact that Big Computer Company is casual, I consistently wear skirts and dresses, and other more business-y attire while most everyone else wears jeans (in fact, the first time I wore jeans to work, it caused quite a ruckus).  After 13 years of wearing a uniform and then working a number of jobs that required me to put a t-shirt over whatever I wore, I'm embracing the fact that I can wear whatever I want.  And I want to wear cute skirts and boots, usually.

But see, the other reason that I'm not sure if I want to turn this into a daily showcase of what I wear is that 90% of my daily choice of clothes is based on what can be thrown into a gym bag and not get totally wrinkled. Which also means that my clothing choice is either picked out right before I fall asleep the night before or at 5:00am the morning of.  This has resulted in a lack of accessories, strange colour choices, and one time, wearing what I thought was a dress, but was actually a shirt that was inappropriately short for work.

All that being said, this is my attempt to keep track of what I wear each week, and maybe through that process figure out a bit more what works and what doesn't. . . Also it give me an excuse to take silly pictures with Boyfriend, who is the official endlessmeg photographer. Observe.


The sweater and tights, which are footless and the BEST thing in the universe if you have long legs, are from Target; the skirt is J.Crew and the boots are Miz Mooz (from Nordstroms) – both things I picked out and then were gifted back to me in the original shopping bag from The Queen for Christmas; sunglasses are BP and the ring is vintage – my Grandma had the best costume jewelry.  

The dress was surprising find at Forever 21 and the belt is an unknown brand from Nordstrom Rack.
I had been wearing the same boots from Monday, but this was way late at night and I hate shoes, so I had switched into Uggs (which are an annual purchase for me since the days of swim team).

This is one of my most favourite outfits ever.  The dress and belt are from Anthropologie – I used to live on the same street as one of the stores and I walked by every day on my way to work.   This dress was in the window and I tried it on 3 times before I finally broke down and bought it.  The tights and sweater are Target; the boots are Benetton and were a birthday gift 3 years ago (and kind of a long story...); the earnings are from a Gem & Jewelery show.

And some days I like to dress up for no real reason.  The skirt and top are H&M (which I tend to find is very hit or miss... maybe that's what it stands for... hmmm); The jacket is Kensie from Nordstrom Rack; the ankle boots are Steve Madden.  Also, yes, those are bowls on my ears – it was my cone of silence.

First off, I'm dancing in my head to Hall & Oats in these pics.  Now, let me tell you about these jeans.  There is a place on Santana Row in SJ called The Blue Jeans Bar.  You must go there.  First you tell them your size, then what style you are looking for and it's like personal shopping.  These are DL1961 which I had never heard of, but LOVE; the sweater is Banana Republic, from an after Christmas sale 2 years ago.

So that is my week in fashion and silly pictures.  What do you think?  Too many pictures in one post?  Should I try to do every day or every other day rather than once a week?  You tell me.

In which I talk to my Rock Star Crush

Josh Freese is a fucking rock star.  And I mean that in every sense of the word.  He's literally a rock star: drummer for The Vandals, Devo, NIN, A Perfect Circle, and Weezer (to name a few), and he's probably drummed on your favourite albums (and you had no idea - sad).  But he's also a rock star in the sense that he is totally cool and awesome.

I've been a fan of Josh since I saw the Vandals play SF when I was young and impressionable – an amazing, cute drummer in one of my favourite bands?!  Love.  I followed his career and was able to catch him drumming with some of my other favourite artists.



So, when he ended up standing right behind me at Weezer's Memories tour this past winter, I kinda freaked out.  I tried to wordlessly communicate to Boyfriend that Josh Freese was standing right behind us.  He didn't get what I was saying and when I finally got the nerve to talk to him (and I'm sure it would have been an amazing line like, "Hey, You're Josh Freese.") he was gone.  I kicked myself for not seizing the opportunity.  So, the next night, same theater, same seats, he's there again!  Just as I gathered my confidence and turned around, he left.  TWICE!  Twice I missed my chance.

I went home that night and, because I'm a nerd, I Tweeted at him (@joshfreese) – and he replied! – but I felt so lame for missing my chance to talk to someone I've been a fan of for such a long time. 

And, of course, I wouldn't shut up about it.  When we were playing Rockband, Boyfriend started drumming more like Josh's style, and I was like, "If you think that by drumming more like Josh Freese you'll get me to love you more, well, that's where you're right." I was kidding. Kind of. 

So, for Christmas Boyfriend bought me a package deal from Josh Freese's website that included a 5 min phone call.  I couldn't believe he would do that for me!  But I kinda forgot about it because time passed and I didn't get a call.  Then this week I started to get these missed calls from a blocked number.  I wasn't getting voicemails, so I figured it was a scam or something. Then the other night I got a voicemail: some noises from a kid and in the background I could hear, "tell them who your Daddy is" followed by "It's Josh Freese. You aren't answering your phone." So, when I got the blocked call today, I answered. . .

I TALKED TO JOSH FREESE ON THE PHONE FOR LIKE 15 MINS!

I kind of panicked when I found out he would be calling me because I had no idea what to talk about.  I shouldn't have worried.  He was the easiest person in the world to talk to, like an old friend you're catching up with, except he name drops famous people the way I talk about my family and co-workers. . .



Topics we covered:
  • Brazilian Waxing*
  • The Weather in SF vs LA
  • The Weezer Memories Tour (and my just missing him)
  • The Warfield: Good Venue
  • Learning Final Cut Express
  • iMovie '06 vs iMovie '08**
The best part was the editing conversations... He casually said something like he was just hanging out and Trent [Reznor of Nine Inch Nails] told him to upgrade to the new iLife... I told him how I was certified in FCP - he asked me an editing question.  The conversion ended with him saying that he has my number now and next time he's in SF and needs editing help (he was trying to figure out when Weezer was playing here again)... I nearly died.

This was seriously the coolest thing to happen to me in a while.  Boyfriend is the most amazing person in the universe for setting this up for me (despite my crush).  And I can't believe how cool of a person Josh is for taking time out of his day to call a fan.


*I was on my way to get a Brazilian Wax when Josh called... turns out it's a good ice breaker to just throw an over-share into a conversation with a famous person you are nervous about talking to...
**this is the point where it was suddenly like giving Josh Freese a One to One in Final Cut Express...

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Congrats! You're a dick.

So, I've been trying this new thing when anyone acts like a complete D-Bag in traffic.

It's well documented that I might have some slight road-rage – or it would be documented if this blog was older, but I'm sure my oral biography will be chalk full of references to incoherent yelling and gesticulating while driving (unless my mom somehow reads this, in which case, I don't do any of that).

One of the best compliments I've ever gotten was from my friend maRk, who said he wanted me to teach his daughter to drive because I drive aggressively, but he is never scared to be in my car.  Others would disagree.  I know Bear is not always a fan of my vehicular stylings, but then again, she no longer has a clock in her car and tends to just zen out when driving.  Not my speed (pun intended), but I appreciate her mellow style.

I've also been told that I drive "like a dude," which, I think, is also a compliment.  I feel very comfortable behind the wheel in most situations, possibly because one of the first times I ever drove, it was in a Suburban pulling a horse trailer on a dirt road so narrow that was one-way for the first half of the hour and one-way in the other direction for the second half.  And I feel like I am generally safe, even if I do tend to drive little fast.  I just have my own style, I think, and I am bothered when people interfere with my style.

You know that part of Highway 17 that comes down from Santa Cruz and hits San Jose becoming 880? And then 880 turns and starts heading North along the East side of the Bay? Well, there is this moment, right past Milpitas, where you are no longer in the South Bay, but in the East Bay, and suddenly everyone drives like a complete A-Hole.  This is a proven scientific fact, by the way.  And this isn't the only place.  There are pockets all over, like the Bermuda Triangle of traffic, that cause people to lose any ability they had to operate a motor vehicle in a socially acceptable way.

Because that's the thing – it's not that people are suddenly becoming unlawful (usually) in their driving.  They just lose any respect for their fellow motorist.  They try to exit the freeway from the far left lane feet before their exit in stop and go traffic; they turn in front of you and then stop inexplicably; they come half way out into the street to see if it's clear. . . the list goes on.

Now, the Meg with the little bit of road rage usually wants to scream when drivers act like that.  I want to gesture rudly at them and say something like: "Your Father Was a Hamster! And Your Mother Smells of Elderberries!"  But that was the old Meg (and taunting French guards).

So, yeah, the new Meg has a plan.  Whenever a total dickbag cuts me off, I've been giving them an ironic thumbs-up.  Like, "Way to go, Guy. You're a total jerk!" or "Awesome, Dude.  You just almost ran me off the road. Rad!"

I know what you're thinking.  Because the accompanying sarcastic remarks are in my head, it might come off like I'm congratulating them for their douchebaggery.  Well, thumbs-up to you, too.

Also, in my head, my thumbs-upping is like that awesome scene in Easy A where Emma Stone's character, Olive, suddenly finds herself friends with Amanda Bynes' character, Marianne, and she has no idea what's going on, so she just keeps thumbs-upping.  I love it.

If you see me doing this at you, congrats! You're a dick.

Do you do anything to prevent yourself from flipping out at someone?  Are you going to try my ironic thumbs-up move?  If you do, let me know how it works for you.  I'm stoked on it, but I suspect that's just me.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Paddy's Day Shoes

About 5 years ago I was shopping with Bear.  This, as some of you may know, can lead to awesome (read "sometimes disastrous") purchases of things that we may not really need.  Most recently, we both bought Betsy Johnson dresses with Pterodactyls on them.  Did we need these? No.  Was it a fashion imperative that we buy them? Oh, yes. There were Pterodactyls on them!

Anyway, 5 years ago we wandered into the shoe department at Nordstroms and I was immediately taken with these amazing green heels.  I rolled up my jeans and I strutted all around the shoe department.  Bear had located the same pair in blue and was also trying them on, which is just shows how awesome we thought they were because Bear almost never wears heels.

"I must have these!" I informed the shoe guardian.

So, I bought these amazing shoes and decided that I should wear them to my College graduation, you know, as a justification for buying them.  Only, I quickly realized that a) the heels were way too high for me to walk into the graduation stadium with out falling because b) there is no ankle support!  I ended up wearing flip-flops and then sitting at my Graduation lunch wearing the heels so I didn't have to walk much.  Fantastic.  Another useless purchase…

Except that they haven't just stayed in the box collecting dust.  I have worn these shoes at least 5 times – I wear them each year on Paddy's Day!  I remember the first time I wore them for this occasion because my friend Siobhan and I went to every grocery store and liquor store in the Monterey area looking for Smithwicks… needless to say, they weren't the best shoe of choice for a park, run into the store, run around the isles, and run back to the car kind of mission.  At least this year, with my desk job, I should be fine…

Also, in honor of St. Patrick's Day, I decided to make treats for the office (like I need an excuse) and I was excited to try out this recipe, albeit slightly modified to be GREEN!  Judging by the fact that I don't typically like brownies and yet I tried to eat my weight in the batter, I would say these were a success.  My only fear was that they might end up looking moldy… Instead my co-workers asked me if I had any "special" ingredients in them!



And then tonight, I will probably kick back with my favorite Irish beer, the aforementioned Smithwicks (pronounced without the W), and watch either Darby O'Gill and the Little People and/or Father Ted.  And possibly eat some greenish food of some sort.  My shoes will be sitting on the floor next to me, looking pretty.

Not sure how to celebrate?  Want some recommendations on my favorite Irish/Irish inspired media? Check out these gems! Note:  If you're not familiar with the accent, you may want to conceder turning on subtitles for some of these. . .

  • The Boondock Saints (1999) :  I can't believe I forgot to add this to the list – this is one of my favourite Irish inspired films.  A uniquely told story of two Irish emigrant brothers who become vigilantes after a rowdy St. Patrick's Day.  Fun drinking game: drink every time they use the F-word.


  • The Commitments (1991) : One of my all time favorite movies about a group of Working class Dubliners (Northsiders) who form a Soul group.  Amazing music, fun story, generally considered one of the best Irish films ever.



  • Darby O'Gill and the Little People (1959) : A Disney production based off of a collection of Leprechaun stories about Darby O'Gill catching King Brian, King of the Leprechauns.  This staple of my childhood features a ton of Irish folk lore and creatures, plus a young (and singing!) Sean Connery.



  • Father Ted (1995) : A Graham Linehan (IT Crowd) sitcom about 3 Irish Priests who live on  Craggy Island, isolated off the coast of Ireland.  Very funny and absurd, and though you don't need to be Irish or Catholic to find it funny, being so adds a whole new dimension. 


     
  • Intermission (2003) : A love story/crime caper set in modern Dublin involving a breakup, a bank robbery, and a ton of Brown Sauce.  As a drawing point, it stars Cillian Murphy and Colin Farrell.  Oh, and Colm Meaney – he's in everything (including my flight from Dublin to LA once)!


     
  • Once (2006) : I'm sure you've heard of at least this one.  A musical of sorts played out in modern Dublin.  Very low budget but beautiful music and nearly perfect. Fun fact: Glen Hansard was also in The Commitments.


  • The Quiet Man (1952) : If you've never seen or heard of this, you may be surprised to find a movie featureing John Wayne on this list.  He plays an Irish-American who returns to Ireland to reclaim his family's farm.  Known for it's famously long fight scene, it's a classic that I grew up watching with my Grandparents.




Hope you check some of these out. . .
Do you have any St. Patrick's Day traditions?  Any movies that are a must watch for you?

Friday, March 11, 2011

Remembering a Friend

"To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."- Albus Dumbledore

This morning I received the news that a friend passed away.

I wouldn't say he was a very close friend, but he was a friend nonetheless.  We worked together for the better part of 3 years, which because of the jobs that we had, meant that we saw each other nearly every single day for those 3 years.  And this friend made work fun. He was always there with a laugh, a smile, a hug; there to lend a hand; to be positive; to go along with jokes and games; to brighten your day without even trying.

I have so many distinct memories of this friend and even before he passed, I looked upon all of them fondly. . .  He once brought this amazing salsa to work.  It was so good that I immediately offered to trade him any baked good of his choice for a personal batch of salsa (I don't think either of us followed up on that).  I have a picture he took of me trying to take a nap in the middle of our BOH area, laying across 3 stools. He even warned new employees to just carry on and not mind me.  He would help out with my kid events and he was this friendly giant who was playful and amazing.  And he would never say no when asked to help, even if it everyone else would have.

I think he might honestly be the nicest person I have ever met.

Most of out of work socializing consisted of migrating down the street to the bars, celebrating when a co-worker moved on to a different job.  The last time we hung out was for my "going away" party back in October.  The big news was that he was going to be leaving soon to peruse his dream career.  I was so happy that he came and hung out with me and, after all the times listen to him talk about his dream, I was so happy that he was taking steps to realize those dreams.

I'm sure that he has closer friends who could memorialize him in a much more meaningful way, but this is all I have.  And I'm saddened by the fact that this is all I have.  I wish that he was a bigger part of my life and I wish that he had years and years to spread his joy amongst every who was lucky enough to know him.  I have no doubt in my mind that anyone who did know him will miss him dearly.  He was just one of those people.

So, here's to my friend, Josh Baugh.  Here's to his life and all the amazing memories.  Here's to you, Josh.  May you be at peace. <3

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Butter Sandwiches?

So, this happened the other day – and when I say "the other day" it could mean yesterday or 3 months ago.  Anyway, I asked Boyfriend to write me a message on my back with his finger and I would guess what he wrote.

He starts by writing it all at once, which is, of course, wrong. . .

Me: You're doing it wrong.

Boyfriend: Did you write the rules for back writing?

Me: Yes.  Just now.  You have to do it one word at a time and I have to guess. 

Boyfriend: OK. Fine.

He writes the first word on my back. . .

Me: Butter? It has a T-T-E-R at the end.

Boyfriend: Butter?

Me: Yeah, Butter.

Boyfriend: No.

He writes the second word. . .

Me: Sandwich?

Boyfriend: It had two S's.

Me: Sandwiches? Butter Sandwiches.

Boyfriend: No.  I said it wasn't butter.  I'll do it again.

He does it again. . .

Me: It has T-T-E-R at the end. But it's not butter?

He writes again. . .

Me: Potter? It's Potter?

Boyfriend: Yeah. Second word.

He writes again. There is a long pause. . .

Me: Did you just write "Potter Stinks" on my back? Like the badges?

Boyfriend: hahaha Yeah.

Me: Not "I love you" or "You're cute" or anything like that.  You went with "Potter Stinks."

Boyfriend: Yep.

Me: Ok.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

I Heart Pancakes

Today is Pancake Tuesday.

You may be familiar with it's more common names: Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, Fat Tuesday?  These are all the same thing – The day before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. 

Now, you won't hear me talk too much about religion on this as it really isn't a priority in my life.  But I was raised Irish Catholic, and I was Confirmed when I was thirteen.  Mostly, I went through this Sacrament because everyone else I knew was doing it – I went to a private Catholic grammar school that was K-8, so when we all went off to high school, basically everyone came back for our Monthly Confirmation classes for, I think, more social than religious reasons.  And, as a thirteen year old, it was important to me that I would some day be able to get married in the Church.  Seriously.  That was a concern. 

And then after Confirmation, I pretty much stopped going to Mass except when we went in school (surprise! I also went to private Catholic all girls high school).  But I've still continued with the 40 days of Lent thing.  It kind of became a joke like, "If I give up soda for Lent, Baby Jesus will forgive me for premartial sex!" 

The point is that Lent is a time when you fast, or rather for most of us, give up things like chocolate, soda, and booze.  So, on Fat Tuesday, the day before the 40 days of fasting, we celebrate and are gluttonous.  Some places go all out, like New Orleans' Mardi Gras... But in Ireland (and other British colonized countries) tradition involves pancakes. Yep!  The idea is to use all the rest of the rich and fatty foods in your house before Lent.  Seriously, guys.  You can read all about it here: Pancake Tuesday!

In celebration of Pancake Tuesday, The Captain and I went out for Pancakes for lunch today at the Original Pancake house.  I had traditional pancakes, stuffed with bacon.  Then I came home and made both traditional pancakes as well as crêpes or "Irish Pancakes" as we call them.


In all seriousness, I will be giving up something for Lent this year.  I participate in this tradition as a form of personal growth and to challenge myself, more so than as a Religious endeavor.  This year, I'll be giving up shopping and extraneous spending.  This means that I will not be making any purchases that are unnecessary* – so groceries are OK, eating out is not.  Bills will be paid, gas will be bought, any health related issue will be addressed, but everything else, including but limited to new dresses, shoes, beauty products, music, movies, technology... these things will have to wait until after Easter.  Because I'm pretty sure Baby Jesus will love me more when I have more money.

*There is an exception.  My hairdresser and I are both doing this for Lent and on the same weekend, she will be in Portland with her mom and I will be visiting The Wizarding World of Harry Potter with Boyfriend.  We have agreed that for this ONE weekend, spending money will be OK.  We're going to text each other to make sure we aren't cheating the rest of the time!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Once upon a time in Ireland

Today I was looking for a sponge in the kitchen area in my office, and instead I found a cupboard full of Coronas.  Surprising, tho not unexpected, I suppose.

This reminded me a story.

Once upon a time in Ireland, it was like Christmas Eve or New Years Eve, I think, and I was out at this nicer bar with my then-Boyfriend and his friends celebrating.  There was some sort of promotion going on, and I'm pretty sure I was stupid-drunk on whatever the specialty drink of the night was (probably something girlie and sweet).  Anyway, because it was Christmas Eve or New Years Eve or whatever, and because I was 8 hours ahead of all my California friends (in terms of drinking and time zone) I was getting kind of emotional.*

So anyway, I'm in this bar and I suddenly decide that I require a Corona.  Like, it's an absolute moral imperative that I get one and get one now.  This is strange because I never, never drink Corona (the exception was this one time my mom inexplicably bought Coronitas on St. Paddy's Day).  And everyone at the table looks at me like I am insane.  Why would I want a Corona when there is a plethora of really, really good beer?  Good question, gentlemen, but I won't be swayed in my mission, thank you.

And then I marched right up to the bar and demanded a Corona. 

The bartender looked at me for like 5 whole seconds before he realized I was serious.  I looked right back at him.  He then informed me that he had to find some.

A few minutes later, a bottle of Corona appeared in front of me.  I stared at it.  Then I stared at the bartender.  Then I stared at the Corona again.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Um? Yes. Obviously."

"Oh?"

"Weren't you going to give me a lime or something?"

I would like to point out that, as I said before, I was stupid-drunk here.  I don't think I come off this annoyingly American in most cases – in fact, I was usually mistaken for a local by tourists asking for directions.  But hey, we all have our low points.

In the end, I had my Corona.  It was ok.  But it made me happy.

*Note: this is not the year, you all may remember, that I called everyone in my phone book ranting and raving about bands and getting married and such.  This was a different Christmas or New Years or whatever when I was stupid-drunk. Go me!