Unapologetically Mundane » holidays don’t suck for me

Happy Bigtime Birthday, Tracey!

katie ett — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 21:30:52 +0000

I know presents are the reason for the season and all, but I was really back home in Ohio for the past two and a half weeks to celebrate my best friend, Tracey‘s, 30th birthday. While I celebrated my last birthday quietly and with fingers crossed that no one would remember it was my 30th, Tracey celebrated hers with karaoke, gigantic 3-0 candles, and Justin Bieber cupcakes all around:

Tracey pretending that she’s not really into this whole party thing.

Guess who ate these in abundance and wore the Bieber rings without irony. This guy!

This is a hilarious picture until you remember that the noisemakers Tracey bought actually turned out not to make noise.

Only a party at Tracey’s house would include a bowl of just pepperoni.

Tracey totally made this for her husband’s last birthday and not for herself. Just so you know.

Tracey’s husband, Dan, presents Tracey with her cupcakes while Erin serenades her.

Graham is mesmerized by the non-noisemaking noisemakers.

Happy 30th birthday, my best best friend!

You are my life partner, my lab partner, my partner in crime, the wind beneath my wings, my baby bumblebee, the demon seed and the factor!

And I love you.

Merry Christmas + Happy New Year

katie ett — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 17:00:21 +0000

I’m visiting my family and friends in Ohio until

JANUARY 8TH!

I’m going to get so many presents, eat so many of those sugar cookies with the Hershey’s Kisses pressed into the tops of them, and do so many gay things with my best friend.

Like so:

I’ll miss you, blogfriends!

The Practice Thanksgiving

katie ett — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 16:00:55 +0000

One of the things about living in NYC that I’ve found hardest to adjust to is not hanging out at people’s apartments. We all either live in places too small to hold more than two people at a time or places too out of the way for anyone to want to travel to. If it’s not one, it’s the other.

But this year, my friend Ash was determined to have a practice Thanksgiving at her apartment and went all-out with impressive invitations, a massive menu, and promises that she would hunt us down and stuff us if we didn’t make it worth her while to take up her entire refrigerator with a brining turkey for two days. So we took cabs or spent three hours navigating weekend subway construction to make it to her and her husband, Michael’s, Queens apartment last Saturday night for a pre-Thanksgiving feast our families will have a hard time topping tomorrow.

Michael and Ash got rid of about half of the furniture in their place to make room for this new dining table they bought especially for the occasion. Well worth it, I say.

Ash carved a turkey for the first time and looked smokin’ doing it.

The turkey was about the moistest meat I’ve ever had in my life. The stuffing was fruity, the sweet potatoes spicy, the twice-baked potatoes bacony, the cauliflower casserole creamy, the green beans smoky, the apple pie belly-warming, the lemon cheesecake rich.

There was gravy, too, but I never eat gravy. Am I the only one who thinks it’s tooooooootally weird stuff?

Michael was in high spirits,

Ash was being Betty Sue Homemaker,

Jack was his usual pleasant self,

Jeff was complaining that the ice cream was regular vanilla and not vanilla bean,

Gizmo was pretending to innocently play with a ball under the table while secretly waiting for dropped turkey,

and Penny, the cat we found in the Hamptons, was acting like all of us would be about two minutes after dinner:

Success!

Doughy Deschanel, Zooey’s Fat Sister

katie ett — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 17:15:49 +0000

I haven’t legitimately dressed up for Halloween for ages. Everybody else is already the Internet meme of the moment, and spending the night sweating in a rented gorilla costume doesn’t seem fun, and I don’t have enough boob to be Slutty Strawberry Shortcake or whatever.

But this year, my costume idea happened so organically I couldn’t not do it. My friend Anthony and I were sitting at lunch one day, discussing an article I’d just read about Zooey Deschanel. I may or may not have been rambling, and he may or may not have said Zooey’s name in an offensive voice just to shut me up, and it may or may not have come out sounding like “Doughy Deschanel”.

Okay, actually, it did come out sounding like “Doughy Deschanel”, and I said, “That’s the name of Zooey’s fat sister.”

And then we were both like, “Oh, crap, that’s the greatest Halloween costume ever.” So I bought myself a faux-vintage Modcloth dress, donned my pink velvet shoes that I so rarely get to wear, and used it as an excuse to buy a black wig and have straight hair for a night.

Great Halloween costume or greatest Halloween costume?

Pinch Day!

plumpdumpling — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 16:00:54 +0000

My dad, always a little too quick to torture my sister and me when we were kids, probably invented Pinch Day one year when he realized he’d spoiled us with too many gifts yet again. It’s the day after your birthday, the day when everyone can make up for how nicely they treated you the day before by pinching the crap out of you.

Similarly always a little too quick to torture, I’m sure I introduced my best friend, Tracey, to Pinch Day quite soon after we became inseparable in 7th grade. And since she’s the perfect best friend, she had these flowers sent to me at work yesterday:

with this note:

How personal and sweet, right?

My roommate/landlord/co-worker, Jack, recently wrote me this little questionnaire while I was on the phone with Tracey one day:

And it’s true–TV, movies, and leading insanely interesting lives does fuel our conversations. But just plain loving each other for almost 30 years doesn’t hurt anything. Thanks for making my Pinch Day special, Tracey!

Happy Anniversary!

plumpdumpling — Mon, 14 Feb 2011 17:00:30 +0000

I just think it’s so sweet of couples everywhere to join in celebrating my four year, five month anniversary with Kamran today.

Oh, it’s Valentine’s Day, you say? I had no idea.

See, while the rest of you will be busy eating romantic dinners, receiving roses at your various workplaces to make your single co-workers jealous, deciding if you’re going to share any of the chocolates from your Godiva sampler, or in the absolute most embarrassing case, getting proposed to, I’ll be sitting home alone.

My boyfriend of four years and five months will be taking a bar exam prep course for twelve hours and then spending the rest of the evening in the library with his study partners. (Who are both male, if there was some concern.)

He’s promised to take me to dinner and shower me in chocolate once the bar is over in another week and a half, but in the meantime, I’m on my own. We usually do laundry together on Sundays, but he was studying all day yesterday, so I went to my own apartment but foolishly volunteered to come back to his place to do it alone tonight. On Valentine’s Day.

So I’m going to wear my t-shirt that says, “My Boyfriend Totally Loves Me Even Though He’s Making Me Wash His Underwear on Valentine’s Day.” Then I’m going to tap each person in the laundry room on the shoulder and individually tell them that I’m only there because my boyfriend’s training to be a totally important intellectual property attorney.

And then I’ll make a big show of folding the pillowcase I got for him:

That’s not pathetic at all, right?

Refuse, Facial Hair, and Shameless Flattery (14)
Another Birfday (13)
Don’t worry. The tights are only for Sonya. (14)
Happy Bigtime Birthday, Tracey! (13)
Merry Christmas + Happy New Year (8)
The Practice Thanksgiving (16)
Deep-Fried Everything (13)
Doughy Deschanel, Zooey’s Fat Sister (63)
Happy Birthday, Kamran! (13)
Pinch Day! (13)

Refuse, Facial Hair, and Shameless Flattery

plumpdumpling — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 20:15:02 +0000

I realize I didn’t say goodbye to you guys, but I’m sure it wasn’t hard for you to figure out that I left on the 22nd of December for Christmas in Ohio and returned to NYC this past weekend to lots of this:

Yeah, that’s trash covered in snow. But they’re recyclables! So that makes it okay.

But also a boyfriend who’d hottly grown out his beard because he’s out out of school and off of work for the next two months to study for the Bar Exam:

And a few lingering Christmas trees not-hidden behind frosted glass:

Now I need to go get caught up on your lives. Did Bachelor Girl give an in-depth account of the events leading up to her notorious Christmas card? Did Serial and Kinard become BFFs behind my back? Is Cristy a medical transcriptioner yet? Did the Super Bowl happen, and was Bluz there to wreak havoc? Has Jessica had her baby yet (I think she has, like, 12 weeks to go, but WHO KNOWS)? And what about Tessa and Julie and Kim and . . .

I’m Gettin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas

plumpdumpling — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 17:00:16 +0000

Earlier this week, I walked into work, and to my delight, one of the giant fake gifts under the giant fake Christmas tree in the lobby started skidding across the floor toward me, following me as I walked toward the elevators.

Clearly this is a sign that majorly awesome presents are coming my way in the next couple of weeks.

Or that it was really windy that day.

Great Moments in Ohio Thanksgiving History 2010

plumpdumpling — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 17:00:33 +0000

1) My stepsister, Jenny, spoke up during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and said, “Katie, I want your name in the Christmas gift exchange this year!” I was surprised, because I only see Jenny 8 or 9 times during the year and wondered how she possibly not only knew what to get me but was also excited about it. And then she reminded me of the Christmas list I posted right before I came home and thought she could handle my extensive wants.

2) My best friend, Tracey’s, new temporary-until-someone-hires-her-to-use-her-Master’s-degree job is at this frou-frou scrapbooking store with a workroom for customers. I thought her having to work instead of sitting at home with me all day was going to impede our usual fun-making, but it turns out I’m really good at getting stuff done on my four-years-with-Kamran scrapbook when she just pops in every now and then to say hello instead of entertaining me nonstop with cats and children’s movies in her home scrapbooking room.

3) And her working at the store and my being there for hours at a time with her totally put us in the mood to look at our old scrapbooks, one of which is The Kissing Book, which chronicles all of the toads we had to tongue until we met our current princes. We went through each page, told stories about each boy, and were kind of grossed out to find our little black hearts filled with love when we got to her husband’s page and then Kamran’s. It turns out we actually sort of like the boys we’re with.

4) Tracey and I went to visit our other best friend from high school, Katie, whose baby is one of the happiest I’ve ever met. Katie really knows how to grow some of the cutest kids around, but apparently at least one of them is a vampire:

Right? The flash on her tongue totally looks like teeth.

5) Noel Cordle met Tracey and me for dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, which she had unbelievably never been to before. We had a really great time talking about in-laws, polygamy, and the things you can’t say on your blog, but I got kind of concerned at the end that Tracey and I were talking way too much about ourselves. I’m pretty sure every sentence started with “when we were in high school” and ended with “and that’s why my mom thought we were lesbians”. Sorry, Noel!

6) It was my family’s week to light the Advent candles at church that Sunday, so I read some Bible verses to the church and then spent the next 20 minutes fighting back tears as we sang praise songs. I have no idea why church music makes my cry–sentimental childhood feelings or horrible guilt?

7) My cousin, Ethan, and his wife, Katherine, threw a party for me and told me to invite anyone I wanted. I guess they thought I’d make it some swingin’ bash, but I just invited Ethan’s parents, his sister, and their family friend who became one of my good friends when we all roomed together in college. Oops. It was a great excuse, though, for us to sit around and talk about that year on Worthington Street when my car got spraypainted and I didn’t thank Ethan for cleaning it off for me, when a bird flew in through the chimney in his room and he broke his TV in trying to get it out, when someone lit the dumpster outside our house on fire and we made friends with the neighbors while waiting for the firetrucks, and when Ethan’s sister threw out his bag of ice because it was taking up too much of the freezer and he had to walk down the scary alley to the Taco Bell in the middle of the night for a refreshing drink. I swear we didn’t live in the ghetto. But close.

They Changed the Name from Stuffing to Dressing to Make It Sound Less Dirty

plumpdumpling — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 17:00:31 +0000

I’m in Ohio for Thanksgiving!

While there, I plan to:

• sleep in my own bed and actually spend time with my family now that my best friend, Tracey, finished grad school, got a job, and can’t stay up until 4 a.m. with me every night.

• have Thanksgiving meals with my stepmom’s family, my mom’s side of the family, and my dad’s side of the family within a span of 6 hours. All of them will involve entirely different menus that are traditional to each family, meaning that I’ll be forced to eat pecan pie, pumpkin roll, and old-fashioned cream pie just so I don’t appear rude. Oh, the hardships of the dedicated gourmand.

• try to think of awesome things to put on my Christmas list for my dad’s side of the family but ultimately just write

• eat dinner with Noel Cordle at The Cheesecake Factory, WHERE SHE HAS NEVER EATEN BEFORE.

• not shop on Friday, except possibly online, where I’ll be earning double cash back by using Ebates. (See what I did there?)

Oh, friends, it’s going to be a great time. Until I have to be at the airport at 4:30 a.m. on Monday.

4th of July in Ohio (Featuring Bethany!)

plumpdumpling — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 18:45:19 +0000

I’m notoriously bad about doing really exciting things and never posting about them, but luckily, I have my cousin to write me e-mails that say things like, “When you’re expecting to STAR in a WORLD-FAMOUS BLOG on the INTERNET, it’s tough to be patient.” This is for her:

Tracey shows off a sparkler amidst a backdrop of our matching Mmmerica! shirts with a flag made out of bacon and waffles.

Crazy Aunt Dort™ dishes up a slice of her famous chocolate cake and homemade ice cream in her deliciously 1970s kitchen.

Off-center fireworks shot posing as art

My cousin, Bethany, gets her punishment for coming in last at our game of croquet.

My cousin Alex displays his “muscles” while playing Cornhole with his dad.

A view of my childhood home from my grandparents’ backyard

Despite their stinkiness, dogs totally redeem themselves by looking forward to seeing you way too much.

Despite her stinkiness, Bethany totally redeems herself by talking her mom into committing heinous acts like this.

Like I said . . . Really. Exciting. Things.

Materialistic and Proud of It

plumpdumpling — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 19:00:13 +0000

You know when you get gifts from people that prove they really, really know you? And not only know you but actually get you and possibly even don’t mind you? Here are a few that I received at the end of the year that made me go, “Oh, crap, you actually pay attention to me when I talk to you, don’t you?”

In order of appearance in my life:

1) From Tracey, a pirated copy of The Peanut Butter Solution, which is probably my favourite childhood movie aside from Labyrinth. I don’t know why my mom would’ve taped it off of TV, but she did, and I must have watched that thing 700 times as a kid. It scared me to death, but it likely also cultivated my extreme taste for peanut butter as an adult. Having it back in my life feels like regaining a lost limb.

2) Also from Tracey, Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds Barbie. I don’t, like, collect Barbies or anything, I need you to know, but I do love the film, and I love that someone at Mattel is weird enough to suggest they make a doll WHO IS BEING ATTACKED BY PLASTIC BIRDS. I think she’s crazy-beautiful.

3) An owl locket ring from Kamran. Not two days before this arrived in the mail, we were discussing the steampunk movement on the way to work, and I told him that steampunk isn’t really my style. What I meant was that I like the aesthetics of it but that I’m too lazy to outfit my computer keyboard with typewriter keys and too conservative to wear goggles ‘round my neck every day. Having searched Etsy for the word steampunk to find the ring, he was worried I wouldn’t like it, but umm . . . it’s an owl on a locket with scrollwork on the band. There is nothing about this that is not me.

4) OMG, a vintage mink stole. Like, for real. It was fate, too, because mere hours before it arrived in the mail, Kamran and I saw this girl in the elevator wearing a fur, and I was like, “Why does she have that and I don’t?” And he totally goaded me into talking for ten minutes about why I love fur so much with absolutely no regard to animal life, knowing that I’d be getting one from him later in the day. It has a giant minky button in the front over the closure, and it’s so soft I no longer care to think about–let alone touch–kittens and bunnies.

My dad also got me a copy of Glenn Beck’s Arguing with Idiots: How to Stop Small Minds and Big Government for Christmas, but I prefer not to discuss that.

Santa Claws

plumpdumpling — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 21:05:49 +0000

My friend Roy sent me a link to Sketchy Santas yesterday, and while I appreciate their offerings, I think I have a photo of the sketchiest Santa of all:

Tracey may be smiling here, but not ten seconds before, she was crying out in horror from her car at this giant red-faced Santa. The thing has been hanging outside of my Crazy Great-Aunt Dorothy’s house every Christmas for as long as I can remember. The smashed nose is a recent addition, but the duct tape holding it up is not.

We’re thinking it may have been used as anti-American Indian propaganda back in the day. No?

10 Things I Try Not to Take for Granted

plumpdumpling — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 19:10:29 +0000

Every Thanksgiving, my stepmother-who-I’ve-known-my-whole-life-and-think-is-the-best-possible-stand-in-for-my-actual-mother-who-died-of-brain-cancer-in-2000 puts pieces of dried corn next to each person’s plate at the dinner table and tells us we have to give thanks for one thing for every piece of corn we have. Her kids, who are adults and not 14-year-olds as you might expect, seem to think this is a real challenge, even though there’s usually only two pieces of corn at their plates. Every year, I want to scream, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST SAY YOU’RE THANKFUL FOR JESUS AND REGULAR BOWEL MOVEMENTS!!” But their grandfather is always there, and you know how hard it is to get geriatrics off the topic of bowels once it comes up.

Anyway, to prove how totally easy it is for me to come up with things I’m thankful for, here’s a short list:

1) My dad, who I look forward to seeing at every holiday gathering both because he always eats more pie than I do to keep me from looking like a fatty and because he’s totally fine with discussing right in front of everyone what a disappointment I am for not bombing abortion clinics every chance I get.

2) My best friend, Tracey, who pretends with an uncanny level of believability that she misses me when I’m not in Ohio with her and who doesn’t mind if I steal all of her Vanilla Coke Zero when I’m in Ohio with her. And also who doesn’t have sex with her husband for entire weeks at a time when I visit because I’m latched on to her at all hours of the day.

3) Kamran.

4) My best New York friend, Beth, who wears Prada shoes but totally doesn’t mind my Chucks, who drinks artisan cocktails but will totally buy me a Woodchuck or a Magners, and who only listens to Madonna but will totally go see Sufjan with me. If I buy her ticket.

5) Bachelor Girl, who posts things like this without any consideration for the fact that I’m building a stalker case against her publicly in case anything bad happens to me. You are my BBFF, baby.

6) The fact that at some point in our nation’s history, it was totally okay to exploit freaks of nature. (from Anthony)

7) The part of Band of Horses’s “Ode to the LRC” where he says, “The world is such a wonderful place.” Because it really feels that way at that moment.

8.) Mind-blowing hyperrealistic sculptures. (from Kamran)

9) Everyone who reads this thing, including the people who find it by using Google search terms such as “never thought i’d be a homewrecker” and “i scraped off a mole with my fingernail”.

10) Regular bowel movements.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all. I’m off to Ohio!

Materialistic and Proud of It (15)
Happy Bigtime Birthday, Tracey! (13)
Merry Christmas + Happy New Year (8)
Defining My Personal Style (11)
Stuff I Like (6)
It’s Not All Latch Hook Kitten Rugs (8)
The Practice Thanksgiving (16)
Stuff I Like (6)
Stuff I Like (18)
Doughy Deschanel, Zooey’s Fat Sister (63)

If the World was Fair, Candy Pumpkins Would Be Available All Year

plumpdumpling — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:52:58 +0000

This is all that’s left of Halloween, but it sure was good while it lasted. Kamran and I spent Friday night watching horror movies instead of, you know, piecing together a simple costume so as to not disrespect our friend Anthony’s party the next night.

To make us feel extra bad, Anthony seriously went all-out for this thing. As if we weren’t impressed enough to actually know someone who owns a house and can therefore have a legitimate house party (even if it was out on Long Island), he had the place covered in cobwebs and bathed in creepy lighting with awesome additions like strings of razorblades hanging in the doorway to the dining room. His friends all had elaborate costumes, and he went around the party in an H1N1 emergency response team uniform, drinking what he said was germ-ridden waste.

I ended up wearing a pink tank top with a black shirt covered in stars over it and said I was aurora borealis, while Kamran wore a striped sweater and said he was Freddie Kreuger had he gone straight, stopped murdering kids, and gotten his PhD. No one was impressed, but we brought a box of thirty assorted candy bars with us, so we didn’t get egged.

Of course, we ended up eating at least half of those thirty candy bars ourselves and stuffing more in our pockets for the long ride home on the Long Island Railroad, but no one was sober enough to notice.

PUMPKIN ANUS

plumpdumpling — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 16:44:22 +0000

Am I right or am I right?

Another Birfday

plumpdumpling — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 15:58:17 +0000

Happy birthday to my big juicy Kamburger!

It’s a pleasure to spend another birthday with you, Kameroon, and not just because you’ve agreed to do all of the things I want to on your special day.

Happy Anniversary! (12)
Refuse, Facial Hair, and Shameless Flattery (14)
Don’t worry. The tights are only for Sonya. (14)
Happy Bigtime Birthday, Tracey! (13)
Merry Christmas + Happy New Year (8)
The Practice Thanksgiving (16)
Deep-Fried Everything (13)
Doughy Deschanel, Zooey’s Fat Sister (63)
Happy Birthday, Kamran! (13)
Pinch Day! (13)

The Day That Belongs to Me and No One Else, Especially Not the Other 18 Million People Born on This Day

plumpdumpling — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 16:45:22 +0000

Oh, birthdays. I never thought I was one to flaunt THE EXTREMELY SPECIAL DAY THAT’S ABOUT ME AND ME ONLY, but as it turns out, I’m actually very much into flaunting it. As early as October 1st, I was writing e-mails to everyone in my office to tell them things like, “Your monthly subway passes are in, and oh yeah, my birthday is October 9th.” Strange.

So far, the two best birthday wishes I’ve received have been from:

1) My best friend, Tracey, who wrote this amazing birthday blog post for me. And I use the word wrote very loosely. As you’ll see in my comment, I first read the post from my BlackBerry this morning and had no idea that someone out there was actually making cakes that look like babies. The creepiest babies ever at that.

2) OkCupid, who sent me this e-mail:

This is the third year in a row they’ve had to send me the “sorry you’re in a relationship” e-mail thanks to Kamran being great. But I really love how they can’t help themselves and have to include links both for me to login instantly and to find my birthday matches. Way to wreck relationships, OkCupid.

I’ve invited my ten closest friends to a marathon of karaoke tomorrow afternoon, but tonight, I’m going to have a quiet evening at home with Kamran that will involve pizza, several kinds of chips, cupcakes, ice cream cake, and playing with the Wii we bought each other for our joint birthday.

Scammed!

plumpdumpling — Wed, 27 May 2009 13:19:37 +0000

All New Yorkers are assholes, and don’t let anyone tell you any different.

Case in point: on Monday afternoon, Dr. Boyfriend and I celebrated Memorial Day with an entire pitcher of sangria on the patio of Dos Caminos. Because sangria is from the Spanish meaning bloody, and there’s no better way to mourn the loss of all our fallen combat soldiers than to drink fruit-filled blood in remembrance of them. Or something.

So anyway, we left the restaurant and walked toward Rockefeller Center, where he was going to work for a couple of hours while I went shopping. On the way, we decided to stop at an ice cream truck and continue mourning the loss of all our fallen combat soldiers by eating . . . frozen milk. Whatever. At the intersection right outside of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, there were two trucks with identical markings parked across the street from one another, so we just sidled up to the first one without bothering to do any bargain comparisons.

A 30-ish, Israeli-ish, purposely-bald guy stepped up to the window inside the truck but went about not paying attention to us while he talked on his cellphone to someone about his gambling debts. At least that’s what Kamran tells me he was talking about. I, of course, was too busy trying to decide between cone and cup to notice. But long after I’d chosen, he was still on his phone. Had we been basically anyone else, we probably would’ve walked across the street to the other truck at that point, but it was a holiday, and we’re patient people.

Finally, the guy took my order: one scoop of vanilla in a cone with multicolored sprinkles for Kamran and one scoop of vanilla in a cup with multicolored sprinkles for me. He even showed me the cup to see if it was to my liking. He didn’t tell us how much it was but just waited for his money, so I handed him a $10 bill. (Kamran had paid for lunch, for those of you non-feminists who may be crying foul at this moment.) He took it, disappeared into the depths of the truck, and then came back and said, “That’s it. $6 for the cone, and $4 for the cup.” Bewildered, I said thank you and made way for the person behind me to order.

But two steps later, Kamran and I turned to each other to ask, “What the hell just happened?!” The cone he’d gotten was this kind, the soft serve kind, the kind you can get at McDonald’s for $1. The kind you can buy from any other ice cream truck, from even the most expensive truck at Coney Island on the hottest day of the year with all the sprinkles you could ever hope for, for no more than $2.50. And yet I’d just paid $6.

I was torn between being pissed off at him for thinking I was some tourist who doesn’t know how much ice cream costs and pissed off at myself for looking like some tourist who doesn’t know how much ice cream costs. I was pissed off that he had put black electrical tape over all of the prices on the side of his truck so he could charge whatever he wanted and was getting away with it. I wanted to march back to the truck and put on my mean New Yorker face and splatter my cup of vanilla all over his designer graphic t-shirt.

But I didn’t, because not only do I not have gambling debts to pay off like he apparently does, but it was also the best ice cream truck ice cream I’ve ever had. (And that includes the gourmet Van Leeuwen ice cream truck ice cream I had last summer.) Maybe it’s one of those things where paying more for it makes it taste better, but maybe it really was $10 ice cream.

What I’m left wondering, though, is: what would’ve happened had I handed him just $5 instead? Would he have demanded more, and what would I have done?

I’m in Ohio!

plumpdumpling — Fri, 26 Dec 2008 05:01:30 +0000

Oh, hey, I might have forgotten to mention that after a day’s delay, I arrived in Ohio for a glorious 16-day, 15-night stay on my family’s farm in Ohio.

So far, I’ve only had one fight with my dad that involved me uttering the phrase “well I think YOUR god is bullcrap!”, so I’m doing all right.

How ’bout you?

Unapologetically Mundane » holidays don’t suck for me

Happy Bigtime Birthday, Tracey!

Related Posts

Merry Christmas + Happy New Year

Related Posts

The Practice Thanksgiving

Related Posts

Doughy Deschanel, Zooey’s Fat Sister

Related Posts

Pinch Day!

Related Posts

Happy Anniversary!

Related Posts

Refuse, Facial Hair, and Shameless Flattery

Related Posts

I’m Gettin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas

Related Posts

Great Moments in Ohio Thanksgiving History 2010

Related Posts

They Changed the Name from Stuffing to Dressing to Make It Sound Less Dirty

Related Posts

4th of July in Ohio (Featuring Bethany!)

Related Posts

Materialistic and Proud of It

Related Posts

Santa Claws

Related Posts

10 Things I Try Not to Take for Granted

Related Posts

If the World was Fair, Candy Pumpkins Would Be Available All Year

Related Posts

PUMPKIN ANUS

Related Posts

Another Birfday

Related Posts

The Day That Belongs to Me and No One Else, Especially Not the Other 18 Million People Born on This Day

Related Posts

Scammed!

Related Posts

I’m in Ohio!

Related Posts