So I was at work today, doing some research in what is basically our corporate wikipedia site. I came across an entry for awesomesauce… and really all I could do was shake my head. A few months ago, I first heard Joe use the phrase weaksauce, and after I stopped laughing, I asked “wtf is that?” He asked if I ever found my way online, and, given that I have not had internet in my residence since May, I had to say “No, I guess not.”
When did this sauce crap start? Why is it taking over the world and who started it? On a similar note, about a month ago when I went to Joe’s parents house for dinner, I was greeted by the most delicious spaghetti sauce. Being from a Hunts Traditional family myself, I was utterly shocked that she had made it from scratch!
A few weeks later, I eventually worked up the balls to call her and ask her for the recipe. Within about 2 minutes, she hung up on me. Realizing this was due to unfamiliarity with technology rather than seeded hatred, Joe called her back. I eventually got the recipe, and as I should have expected, everything was in “some” & “a little” measurements. Never being one to turn down a challenge, I said “Alright! I can do this!” And boy, did I. Now that was some awesomesauce…
Earlier this evening I was on the phone with Joe when I got it in my head that he should move his furniture in his apartment. This is for a few reasons, one being that he has this really weird corner blocked off by couches where his computer sits. This is hard to explain, but basically one needs to jump over the arm of a couch in order to reach his desk. Last night as we were working on computer stuff together, this presented more than a couple difficulties. Further, a lot of light comes in from his balcony, which is AWESOME, but totally gets in my eyes when I’m watching TV.
Now, I began to tell him all the different ways I had been brainstorming his apartment rearrangement, when I realized I was being a silly-controlling girlfriend and deserved a response along the lines of “umm… Who do you think you are, I like my apartment just the way it is- thank you very much.” However, he didn’t cock me off like any normal person might do, but rather allowed me to share my wonderful ideas. He thought about it and might actually switch some things up.
Why is this relevant? Because I have a small furniture rearrangement addiction, and now I cannot stop thinking of the different ways to do my own apartment. This is all a part of me bouncing off the walls this evening, trying to clean my apartment. While this is actually the ideal state for one to be in while cleaning, it does make me feel crazy.
- I became distracted by this foreign object atop a building outside my window. Its about 33 stories above my lookout, so I can only see a small part of it, but I’m sure it wasn’t there yesterday. What could it be?
- Technically I am in the middle of unpacking/cleaning my room from my Denver trip. Doing so, I had to bring things back to my desk and that caused me to stop and research how much I could possibly sell my car and stereo system for (not that much).
- Each time I leave my room to put something away, I start cleaning wherever I went. So, when I brought the fork that was on the floor in the middle of my room to the sink, of course I had to empty the dishwasher and fill it up again.
- Next, when I brought a load of stuff into the bathroom, I really felt the irresistible urge to brush my teeth (still technically cleaning, right?).
- Back in my room, I see my dumbbells. “Hmm… weights? I haven’t used these in awhile, and I probs won’t make it to the gym… sure I’ll lift a little!”
- [10 minutes later while folding laundry]: “Am I just now realizing that American-Apparel shirts don’t have side seams? Thats awesome. Do most other shirts? Maybe I’m just noticing it because I’m crazy. I can’t tell if this is an anomaly. I’m going to go check others…” [they all had side seams!!]
Clearly I understand this is the normal way to clean, but it does make me feel rather scatter brained… Thinking I’m special because I can’t focus on one thing? Everyday cliché.
Next, I decided to attempt a double batch of chocolate chip/butterscotch/M&M cookies. In the kitchen I realized I was out of butter, but found a fondant vagina instead. I think I’m going to place a magnet on the back of it and put it on my fridge. Hopefully my grandma won’t know what it is when she sees it… or wait, hopefully she does know what it is. This is getting weird… I’ll just decide now that I’ll hide it next time she comes… AHH
But why do I have a fondant vagina you ask?
Well, a couple weeks ago, I had just gotten to work and of course the first thing I do is check facebook. I realized that it was my best friend’s birthday and I had completely forgotten to send anything. In a panic, I searched for “bakery near ___ (his address)”. The closest one, and the only one I needed to check, was called Le Bakery Sensual.
Being a smart thinker, I made the phone call from the bathroom, as anyone near my cube would have been able to hear the conversation. However, apparently this crazy bakery doesn’t open up until later in the day -and- that’s on Colorado time too. This was literally my busiest day at work ever, so I had to squeeze the call in right before my team lunch- prime pee time in the corporate world. Therefore, I was forced to make the call from my desk.
I tried to just get one cupcake delivered, but they didn’t want to do that. Eventually I was swindled into purchasing a dozen cupcakes. “Fine, whatever, its my bff’s birthday” I thought. Knowing this is a sexual bakery, when the guy asks me what I want on them, I say “lady things- err, ugh, guy things… I mean… I don’t know, this is for a guy.” While he did understand what I meant, he needed to clarify by asking which specific body parts I wanted. I ultimately had to say, aloud in my cube, “boobs and vaginas please.”
At this point, I just gave him the address and my credit card number and needed to get off the phone. My cubbie was just staring at me like “What the f was that phone call about…?”
During lunch, it occurs to me I was never told the total cost of this gift. And, had I not been so flustered, maybe I would have thought to get a penis for myself.
Anyway, I finish out the day and rush home to get ready for the wedding that Joe and I are attending that night. We both get dressed up and head out the door. On the drive there, I get a phone call. Being the techie-guru that I am, my phone calls come through my stereo system. I answer with a polite “Hello?” and in return:
“Did you send me dirty cupcakes!?”
My grin was huge. I was also able to convinced him to send a picture.
I then asked him to save me one. He replied wanting to know which one I desired, so I turn to Joe and pose the question “Do I want to eat vagina or boob?”
Joe jokes that the first words he ever heard my BFF utter were “did you send me dirty cupcakes!?” I’m just glad no one else was in the car. When I went to Denver to visit last weekend, Drew had saved me one (and in case you were wondering, I definitely chose vagina). However, he did not preserve it in the freezer, and it was stale as shit. I ate a little bit of the frosting then just decided to take the jay-jay home. Days later, I was able to confirm with my bank statement that this whole ordeal cost a lovely $80. Absolutely 100% worth it.