He respects Owl…

He respects Owl, because you can’t help respecting anyone who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn’t spell it right.”

– A. A. Milne

I like this quote.  Not that Owl isn’t already a respectable gentleman/owl, but I like the idea that there is something respectable about everyone.  Even if it’s a small thing like their spelling or misspelling prowess…


How not to save money tip #101

Browse www.nordstrom.com during your lunch for “fall essentials.” 

Super Want

Super Want


How to save money tip #101

Get a roommate to use your spare bedroom that is currently just a large closet.

1st degree burns of the Jalepeno variety


One of my good friends likes to think of herself as quite the Martha Stewart housewife.  This is a label I certainly don’t agree with, but in response to her good natured ribbing about my lack of home cooking, I’ve taken up a personal challenge to cook more.  Just because I don’t cook, doesn’t mean I can’t.  I’m actually quite a fabulous cook.  FYI.

So last wknd I decided I was going to make tacos (easy).  But, these tacos were going to be adorned with homeade Pico de Gaillo (see recipe below).  I chopped the tomatos, cried helplessly as I diced the onion, chopped the cilantro, and then got to the most daunting ingredient, the jalepeno.  I have heard you should never handle jalepenos with your bare hands, but I thought that was in case you had a cut, or so you wouldn’t touch your face, and I didn’t have gloves.  So I started chopping, careful to wash my hands frequently so I didn’t accidently sear my eye or something.  Each time I washed my hands, I dried them on the same towel.  Also clever, I thought.  I was SO beating the pepper.  And then I was cleaning up and dried everything with the towel, including wringing my hands in it, and was just about to wipe my face when I smelled the jalepeno. 

I thought I was still safe.  Or, I should say, I thought I was still safe until about 5 minutes later when the back of my hand caught on fire.  I thought my skin was going to melt off of my hand, and I frantically googled remedies.  The most common one seemed to be washing your hands in milk.  According to a (seemingly) reliable source, the fat in the milk neutralizes the pepper’s oil, thus stopping the burning.  After a half gallon wasted on washing my hand I gave up but the burning didn’t.  For the next two days I felt like my hand was on fire from the inside out.

I wonder if the fact that the milk was reduced fat had anything to do with its lack of effectiveness.  Did I need to soak my hand in whole milk, or better yet, maybe I should have slathered it in butter.  Note to self…wear gloves next time.

Pico de Gallo

6 red tomatoes chopped
1 medium white onion diced
2-4 jalepenos (I used 3) chopped
1/4 cup fresh cilantro chopped
1 pinch garlic powder
1 pinch salt

Combine all ingredients in bowl.  Add 1 cup cold water & let sit 5 minutes before serving.

P.S. Pico de Gaillo freezes well too.  I found this recipe made enough for 2 batches of Pico de Gaillo.

This Just in…Refrigerator Bandit Caught

I’m going to preface this story with this…My office is tiny.  I can count the number of fulltime employees on one hand and still have a finger left.  Which finger? Depends on the day.  There are 4 of us, plus a smattering of fabulous part-time staff.

Every office I’ve ever worked in has had a very dangerous place…a communal refrigerator.  In this fridge, various condiments well past their pull dates, moldy sandwiches, and half consumed beverages litter the door, shelves, and drawers leaking mystery juices and making opening the refrigerator highly unpleasant.  As if that weren’t enough, there has also been someone who will eat your lunch even if you’ve clearly labled it in big sharpie’d letters, “DO NOT EAT! THIS IS NOT YOURS!” its likely to be “mistaken” for their lunch.  You know what their lunch looked like, exactly like yours, or at least it would if it actually existed.  We’ve been free of this sneaky scavenger in my 2 years at this office, proof I think, that it’s not me stealing your lunches people…that is, until this Thursday. 

On this ill-fated day there were only 3 people in the office that could have brought a lunch.  My manager usually brings her Jenny Craig lunch, then 2 sales people, and I had the day off.  One of our part time staffers was in preparing for the weekend’s events, and somehow a lunch went missing.  I have no idea how this bandit could have thought it was ok to take the only lunch in the refrigerator, how he could mistake it for his own (that he clearly hadn’t brought from home), or why he would have done it, with such an obvious risk of being caught but here’s how the interrogation took place (relayed to me via txt msg by part timer):

S: Btw, lmfo bc k ate J’s lunch.
Me: What?! How did he mistake J’s for his?
S: Idk Hahahahahaha
S: I think he thought no one would notice. lol
Me: What’d Jay Say?
Me: too bad I missed it. That sounds hilarious
S: It was
S: Especially bc I was by your desk so I heard it perfectly.and don’t think they knew until I walked out and had the awk moment happened.
Me: What’d J say?
S: J: *long pause with fridge door open* “hmm…huh…weird…* “hey man did you happen to see yogurt and a energy drink in the fridge?
Me: Haha!
S: K: “yeah…” *smirk* “I ate it. Was it yours? I’m sorry man.”
Me: LOL!
S: J: “oh really? You did eat it? Yeah, I brought that for my lunch today…”
Me: Haha
S: K: “I’m sorry man.  I will go up the street and buy you another drink.”
S: J: “oh it’s ok” *pats shoulder* “yeah there was a yogurt too…if you happened to see it..”
Me: Haha shoulder pat too!
S: K: “I didn’t know it was yours.  I can run over and get stuff.”
S: K: “naw don’t worry”
*J laugh hehehehehe*

And that my friends is how the refrigerator bandit was caught, and I missed possibly the most awkward exchange in an office already full of awkwardness.

Vanity in the Workplace

My office is pretty casual, and I would say I’m the only one with anything resembling a fashion sense that resides in our depressing walls. Case and point, my manager bought patent orange sandals  a couple of weeks back and has worn them nearly every day. Apparently, she thinks this means she also has to wear an orange top ever day.  I’ve never seen so much orange in my life!  She has a pedicure a matching shade of Home Depot orange. 

Lately I’ve found myself pushing the bar on casual.  I definitely wear jeans and t-shirts way too many days of the week.  I think that’s what happens when you work in an office where matching toes, shoes, shirt combo equals put together.  I miss the unspoken competition of my last younger hipper office.  No one came right out and said, “my outfit is better than yours,” but there was definitely something gratifying about being the one who got the most compliments.  It sounds shallow, but I know all of you women out there know what I’m talking about! Don’t pretend you don’t! 

At the prompting of one of my so-called-friends (just kidding, I love her) I read this dating manual called, what else, “The Man-ual,” in it, this former model/womanizer tells women what to do/not to do to snag a guy.  One of the things he says that rang true is, women dress for other women.  Apparently, if you want to snag a guy you should dress for them, I think he even says, “dress a little trashy.” That’s beside the point, my point is that without any women to impress I’ve fallen into a rut.  Plus, I’m not exactly excited to go to my office,  don’t like the people you work with, and I’ve slipped into I don’t care mode.  Suddenly, jeans + t-shirt + heels equals dressed up. 

This morning, I was determined not to wear my jeans, but beyond that I couldn’t make up my mind.  I changed shirts I don’t know how many times, and what I ended up with was an outfit suitable for a normal office, not just mine.  Tan Bermudas, teal pleated front, racer back tank with chocolate brown sweater (to battle the over-zealous office AC), and some fun heels.  I was set.Shoes

I work in one of the many office buildings where windows make up the entire wall, which as you know (come on, I know you know) is great for checking yourself out in the mornings.  It’s like having a full length mirror follow you, and it is impossible not to check yourself out.  As I walked in, I was admiring my ensemble.  Feeling pretty proud of myself, I turned to open the door (also glass), and there staring me in the face was the end to my gloating.  My black bra was not only showing though my top, it was glowing like some sort of impossible black neon through my top.  In all of my wardrobe changes this morning, I forgot to change it, and now I am that girl.

I’ve gone from being the barely presentable underdressed girl (which by the way everyone in my office is barely presentable, it’s not just me), to the barely presentable see through shirt girl.  Maybe I’ll just pretend I’m Carrie Bradshaw, wear my see through top proudly and get on with my day…or maybe I’ll just wear pull my sweater a little closer.