Tag Archives: funny

Rach and the Dino Hat

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It’s so sad for me to sit down at my computer and to log in to Under the Tapestry only to realize that all those ingenious blog posts I wrote in my head never actually made it onto the computer. Fevers’ll do that to you, I suppose. I don’t know what I had and I feel terrible for spreading it (so sorry, my darling, Michele!!) (not sorry for licking the door handle), but I’m finally feeling considerably better. With the exception of the bits of liquefied brain that are clearly trying to leak out of my head through my sinuses, I’m feeling pretty good and my grossness is significantly diminished (P < 0.05).

So onward and upword! First things first: you guys are SO freaking awesome for giving me such a positive response to my STD news. I mean… STDs, right? Ew and stuff. But you totally clapped for the clap anyway and it was awesome! Thanks for that!

But today, what I’d really like to talk about is dinosaurs.

I don’t have enough material for a real dino-focused post at the moment, but I did see a seriously sweet dinosaur hat on a little boy last week and it got me thinking…

At what age do you become “too old” to dance in and out of buildings wearing a dinosaur hat?

I passed a family headed into a building one day last week. It was a family of three. A mom and two sons– one a sullen teen or pre-teen, tall, gangly, peach-fuzz mustache, and permanent scowl. The mom looked beat. But the younger boy? He was grinning and spinning! He was dancing and flailing his arms and having a good old time on his way to the building.

He’s the one who made me light up. It was adorable!

But then I came to my question above. Because had the older boy been doing the same thing, I probably would have affixed my scowl and thought something rude about his immaturity or whatevs. Could he have done anything right? I mean, I was annoyed with him for his scowl in the face of his brother busting a move… but I’d have been annoyed if he’d busted a move himself. He couldn’t win! I was being too much a judge-y jerk!

YOUTHS!

And I thought about how that made me a total Rachel… like Rachel from Friends. And not in a good way. Rather, in the way she was in the episode where she and Phoebe go running together– Rachel taking little perfect strides, breathing in time, while Phoebe ran all arms and legs akimbo, just having fun with it.

{Source}
{Source}

I’m such a Rachel sometimes! (Not in the enviable hairstyle kind of way, more the stick up her backside kind of way.) It would probably suit me to loosen up a bit (I know you’ve been saying that since I was like 8, mom, I know)… perhaps to drop the -el… yes, I think it’s the -el that’s weighing me down.

 

More Rach! More dinosaur hats! More fun! Less judgement!

 

But baby steps. Because I am not ready to rock a dinosaur hat on my head any more than I’m ready to bust a move on the skywalk between the Lawton and the Laird. (Busting a move in the office hallway? Maybe… so long as I’m not doing it alone.) It is something important to think about though.

Because, clearly, there’s no doing right by me when you’re an awkward teen. The thing that should probably change? My attitude. Less -el.  More blog posts 🙂

 

Fun fact: I went through a brief period from approximately consciousness through about 8 or so where I hated, hated, hated anyone calling me Rach. And I would totally correct people. Now I totally love it and consider it a sign of natural and unforced intimacy. My sister calls me Rach. My big in grad school (because I sometimes pretend grad school is like a really effed-up sorority) calls me Rach. Some of my super sweet new Marshfield friends call me Rach. I just love it! Granted, I cannot fault those who have known me much longer for not as, to be fair, I would have ripped their heads off over it once upon a time. But now you know.

 

Not-so-fun fact: I had the same two teachers for sixth and seventh grade– Ms. Fisher and Mrs. Johnson. I adored those two and they had nicknames for everybody, probably because they were absolutely brilliant at making you feeling like you were welcome and loved in their classrooms. They used to call me “Ra-cha-cha” (got to admit, I didn’t love it) and sometimes it would get shortened to just “Cha” (better because my friend Em always called me Racha from the time we were like 2 and 3). One day in science class, we were reading from the textbook out loud in class and Mrs. Johnson was announcing the next reader by name. I heard her say “Chaaaaaa” so I started reading. Loudly. Confidently. Like the nerd I was then and am now.

And it was awkward… super, crazy awkward… because she said “Chaaaaaaad”, which is not even kind of my name, and rather, the name of the boy I’d been crushing on since the moment I’d walked into the Miss Dimitroff’s fourth grade. The horror! I remember the mortification distinctly, the desperation of my hurried explanations in a tiny voice (I thought you said Cha…?) and the extreme desire to disappear.

 

Fun-ny fact: Chad was not worth the crush. The more you know 😉

Beginnings, 2014 style.

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Nothing like the first page of a brand new planner. I’ll always be a pen and paper girl and for me, that first week in January when you crack open the pages for the first time– heaven!

Ahhh... week 1 of 52...
Ahhh… week 1 of 52…

I love blank slates… fresh starts, do-overs, and second chances.* I also love dinosaurs. But that’s not the point.

The point is, a new year offers a fresh start. But so does a new month. A new week, a new day. Each new minute is another chance to start.

I told you like a million years ago (poetic license) that I was reading a book by Joan Chittister called Welcome to the Wisdom of the World and I mentioned that I was both excited and nervous to get to the chapter entitled “What’s Wrong with Me: Why Can’t I Change?” Excited because I thought maybe she’d have the answer for me. Nervous because maybe it would be something that I couldn’t do, couldn’t handle, whatever.

What Joan Chittister told me was incredibly simple, yet remarkably profound:

“If the question is, What is wrong with me: what can’t I change? the answer may be that I have to decide to begin. When the struggle will finally end, what the end will look like, we cannot know. We can only know that beginning to begin is the secret.”

Woah.

While we aren’t given unlimited time, we always have a moment in which we can decide to begin. It’s that grace thing again. Maybe you did burn all your bridges… but you could learn to swim. You could build a boat. You could purchase water wings. You could tame a dolphin and ride him. Or you could just build another bridge, I suppose. Lots of ways to get to the other side.

Dolphin Ride

Resolutions early on in the new year are truly a dime a dozen. For that reason, you’ll hear lots and lots of naysayers– “80% of all resolutions are given up by February” and “bandwagons are bad” and all that. But a dime a dozen?! Sound like a pretty good deal to me! And bandwagons can be a lot of fun. (I imagine it to be like a hay ride– with a drum line. Sweet. Work those quads, LQ!)

I’ve got a couple ideas about what I’d like to do in 2014… not necessarily hard and fast resolutions, per se. Just some ideas:

  1. Be funnier. I’ve been a little bit serious on Under the Tapestry as of late. More jokes, more jokes!!
  2. Grow more food and/or eat more food that other people grow. This year, I’ve got to get a garden up and running so I can can some of my own stuff. (Love when two or more cans happen in a row! Can can can you do the can can?!) Also, I got a pressure canner for Christmas (oh snap, I am getting SO brave!) so that I can can stuff that’s not super acidic. Pretty pumped about that! Beans? Pumpkin puree? And I’m sure Seth wouldn’t mind more homemade ketchup (although that was a lot of work).
  3. Sew more. I was warned it would happen– fabric, half-finished projects, materials for grand ideas that never get used. I didn’t believe it would happen to me, but it did. By the end of 2014, however, I will finish my duvet cover. (omg! you guys, it’s so awesome– and more than halfway done, I can’t wait to show you!) In addition to a couple other projects I’d love to turn out sometime in the near future (I found some tweed with a touch of sparkle– it’s been begging me to make it into a super cute skirt)!
  4. Improve my home. My husband is awesome at his part of this. He’s ridiculously handy and loves learning to do even more stuff from his dad, who is even more ridiculously handy than my husband. Seth has installed new wiring, gas lines, insulation, a satellite mount, in-wall/in-ceiling surround sound speakers, and a new water softener among a million other projects both small and large. The nuts/bolts and inner workings of the house are very well taken care. The aesthetics are more my domain… I painted a couple rooms, hung some new curtains, halfway finished a duvet cover (see above), purchased the paint for another room… and then… got tired? Gave up? I don’t know what. But I need to get back on that. And stat. For that reason, I’ve joined the Apartment Therapy January Cure for some motivation, and I’m pretty excited about that! Today, I made a list of 3 – 5 things per room in my house I’d like to change. Project list– check! It’s a start, anyway!
  5. Read! For book club, of course, and anything else that sounds interesting. But I’d also like to embark on some sort of awesome book challenge. My friend Nicole pointed me to this woman’s challenge of reading a book from every country in the world. Dang. I’m amazed– she must have learned so much! I’m thinking something smaller, perhaps a little more domestic. But what? My initial thought was to read at least one book set in every state (plus one more for the UP, because I think we all know God’s country warrants at least one book of it’s own)… but I’m certainly open to any other suggestions? Also, I super want Nicole to do the challenge with me! And to blog about it! Thoughts? Anyone?

You’ve probably noticed that all of these things are things I’ve started before. I’ve told a joke (or two), canned some tomatoes, sewed most of a duvet cover, painted a couple rooms, and read many, many books. But there’s no reason I can’t begin again and I’m desperate for a ride on that 2014 bandwagon (can’t you hear the cadence?! I need to groove along with it!) so I’m deciding to begin in these 5 areas again. Because I’m allowed to do that– and so are you!

As Joan Chittister suggests, the only way to change is to decide to begin. Any day, any time.

 

*Unfortunately, sometimes my anal retentiveness goes a little too far and I love these fresh starts a little too much. One time (ok, several times) in high school (and yeah, maybe in college… and grad school…) (ugh, and my real life current job…) I’ve gotten so annoyed with my handwriting or a stain on something that I’ve copied it again, neater or on a fresh sheet of paper, and tossed the old one so that I could admire the new one. Pathetic? Maybe. But it just looks so nice! Plus, copying your own notes is actually a decent way to study something… it can’t really have hurt, anyway.

The hair.

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You’ve probably noticed that over the past few weeks, I have made several references to my hair.  Perhaps it’s an unhealthy obsession, but what I want you to know is that my hair really is a BIG deal.  Big.  And it has a mind of it’s own.

I’m feeling kind of guilty for the downer-ness and severe lack of funny that was my post yesterday, so to make up for it,  I decided to share with you the photo I alluded to a few days ago when I said:

“Everything through the end of high school was essentially precambrian… early, unformed, and frizzy.  I wasn’t really sure how to have curly hair yet and many pictures exist to remind me of that.  (Many… frizzy… photos…  Want to see one?  Too bad!  It’s far too awful and I’m not that secure.)”

I’m still not that secure, but this hair– it’s too much, and I’m so relieved to finally be able to find it funny.  Here’s hoping you will find it funny too, because I owe you that!

So, without further ado, I present to you The Hair:

Mushroom Hair

This is my school photo from picture day in sixth grade.  To complete the look– that’s a BODY SUIT (complete with crotch snaps) under that crocheted vest.  Let me say that again: crocheted vest.  And I’m wearing green jeans.  Green.  Jeans.  Oh yeah.  Picture.  Day.

This was just the beginning of a really, really bad hair period in my life.  I still remember getting the cut in fifth grade.  I had a pool party at school the next day (because of course) and a boy in my class (who shall remain nameless, but I do remember his name, and this is the only reason…) said, loudly, for all the laughs in the class, “I wonder what it looks like wet?!”  Ahhhh ha ha ha.  Hilarious.  The answer: not so hot.  But then again, didn’t exactly look stellar dry now, did it?

You may be thinking right now something like, “well, it’s not that bad…”  because you’re a nice person and you don’t want me to feel bad.  But stop.  Because this:

Hair Compare

Oh man.  My future children are going to have a field day with this– I’m glad I’ll be laughing with them!

 

I know it’s hard to believe that a foxy lady like me, all square jaw and size 11 feet, used to look like that.  But believe it.  It’s true.  And my hair still has some of those special qualities.  For example, the more upset or nervous I get, the bigger my hair becomes.  Maybe it’s because my head gets hot?  I don’t know… but much like the mushroom cloud expanding over time, so is the hair on my head.  (You can read that like the Days of Our Lives slogan– like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.)

Cue violin music!

Give me a volleyball– it’s going to be an awkward time.

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My sister-in-law (not the one I discuss below, the other one) suggested the idea for this post… and I’ve been saving it for a special Tuesday, since Tuesdays are volleyball days.  Clearly, I love that girl because only for her would I share the story of the picnic table.

My husband, his sister, and I play volleyball once a week at the local Belvedere Supper Club.  They’ve got a great outdoor sand volleyball court, complete with lights for these rapidly shortening days (sigh… northern Wisconsin…).  We were originally promised a league, but no other teams ever showed up so we just come every week and play against ourselves, splitting up however we see fit.  It’s awesome because the winning team gets a prize every week– usually a free drink or free fish fry.  YES!  Winning is the best!  Except went you don’t.  And then at least playing is pretty dang fun.

I’m no Misty May, but I enjoy volleyball and I’m reasonably tall, so I’ve got that going for me.  BUT, I’m also very awkward and, unfortunately, that really shines on the volleyball court.

Last Tuesday, I called everyone else off on a high volley and THUMP.  The ball dropped to my chest, made a terrible thud sound, and just stopped.  Sigh.

In grad school, I joined an indoor volleyball league in Rockville with a friend and even bought knee pads with the intent of diving.  The only time I ever did was when I tripped on my way to the ball, missing it completely.  (Good thing I had knee pads.)

But the volleyball incident in college, that was the really spectacular one.

The summer before my sophomore year started, I played with a bunch of other RAs out at McClain State Park (it’s right on Lake Superior and it’s beautiful– I highly recommend a visit if you’re ever in the UP).  To appropriately set this story up, I should tell you that I was not yet dating my now husband, but very much wanted to… and he witnessed everything.

First, I got pulled over on the way there, but my ID was in the trunk and I had to awkwardly get out of the car while all of my other friends (including that dreamy dude I wanted to date!) drove by.  Ugh.

I slowly got over that humiliation as I got into the game and was feeling pretty awesome until BOOM… picnic table.  Because what else?  And I didn’t just run into the picnic table, I ran so into the picnic table that I ended up on the picnic table.  Oy.

Let me draw you a diagram:

Yes, my head really is that square.

Yes, my head really is that square. {Background Image Credit}

Now.  Let me describe to you my level of mortification, starting with the earliest incident. In college, I pretty much wanted to die.  The guy I liked saw everything (what a good guy to marry me anyway– although this may help explain why it took almost 10 years) and I pretty much felt like my life was over.  Also, I was pretty bruised up, and that was a constant reminder of the humiliation.  Not to mention the warning I got for failing to slow down.  I lived in constant fear of getting re-pulled over with an upgrade from warning to full-blow ticket for the next three years.  (The unnecessary stress I put myself under, I swear…)

In grad school, I was embarrassed and it really fueled my insecurity.  I didn’t feel like my life was over, but I pretty much backed off after that.  I wanted desperately to be good at volleyball and to play more so that I could get there, but instead, I hung back, let others play, and stayed on the sideline or in the background.  I did not enjoy it as much after that.  (But I did manage to enjoy the trophy our team won that first season, not going to lie…)

But last week?  It wasn’t like that.

Last week, there was the deadening thump of the ball smacking me in the chest and coming to a complete stop.  My husband said, “what the heck was that?!” and then… there was laughter!  From me and everyone else.  It was pretty dang funny.  But to be perfectly honest, so was running into the picnic table at McLain and tripping over my own feet to test out my knee pads in Maryland.  But I had a hard time laughing at “embarrassing” things then because I was so concerned about my “image.”

Here’s the image I would prefer, and the one I aim to cultivate these days: to be the girl whose not afraid to make a mistake while trying her best, and to be able to laugh with things go embarrassingly wrong.  I’m so glad you’re laughing with me!  Because my special ability to turn any situation into an awkward situation really makes for some excellent blog fodder.

 

Speaking of awkward… had a follow-up appointment with my personal gastroenterologist / professional client today.  (That’s the guy I said I would never be able to look in the eye again.)  Turns out, anesthesia is a good thing, and I don’t remember enough to even bother being embarrassed.  Yes!!

There must be some toros in the blog-o-sphere…

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Do you like blogs?

Hint: the correct answer is YES because unless you hate the internet, which you obviously don’t, there are tons and tons of blogs out there and there’s bound to be at least one that’s just right for you!  For example, Under the Tapestry.

(See how I just linked you right back here?  Clever, girl*…)

Personally, I looove blogs.  Some because they are written by people I love.  Some because the content is absolutely fascinating to me.  Some because the people are so different from me and incredibly knowledgeable about something that is otherwise very foreign and I find them completely engrossing.  I love different blogs for a lot of different reasons, but every day I think I am becoming more and more blogophilic.  (I’m hyrodphilic too– always thirsty.)

For that reason, I thought I’d share some of my favorites from each of the aforementioned categories.

I know lots of people with awesome-dot-com blogs.  (Awesome.com is a trademark of one of my former labmates.  It’s his, totally his, I can claim no credit for that excellent turn of phrase, but I use it anyway.  Hopefully, he’s out there somewhere, like beantown, saying dang, dang, dang.  Because then we’re even.)

First and foremost is my good friend Chris Lema over at ChrisLema.com.  He’s a big WordPress guy and knows pretty much everything there is to know about the interwebs and how to make it work for you, plus a little bit (ok, a lot) about everything and anything else.  (Except being a mom.  His wife is waaaay more knowledgeable about that.)  While his subject matter truly boggles my mind, he speaks my husband’s language, and he’s married to the most amazing woman on the planet, so I follow him.  Every once in a while I learn something– you know, like how to pay for lunch.  (True story: TWO times, I have managed to pay the check while out for a meal with Chris.  I’m still waiting to hear back from Guinness Book, but all signs point to a world record.)

My cousin Holly has a great blog too (well, she’s my husband’s cousin’s wife, but cousin works here I think… we have the same last name).  It’s called Mom Taught Us and she shares all sorts of amazing and delicious kitchen creations.  Yes, I’ve actually had some in her kitchen.  Jealous?

My friend Dawn has a beautiful, beautiful blog at cupsruningover.com.  She’s.  Flipping.  Fascinating.  You will love her, she’s impossible not to love.  Go read her blog, be impressed, be inspired, but then come back and love me too!  (The fact that we recently reconnected at this moment in time is absolutely bizarre and I can’t wait to write all about it in some sort of super special feature sometime very soon.  Plus, we wear the same size shoe, which means I automatically love her.  Without giving anything away, it’s larger than average, to be sure.)

Another grad school friend, the very talented doctor Lara Lacombe is a real life writer– of romance novels!  How sweet is that?!  (Yes, I am technically a writer for a living, too… but my writing is significantly drier than Lara’s, to say the least!  Except one time I did write a case report about a woman who suffered a stroke as a result of sexual intercourse.  Decidedly un-sexy.)

Last, but most certainly not least, is my favorite day-job client and friend Dr. Rajan Kanth.  His website is full of all sorts of wonderful medical and self-learning tools!  Dr. Kanth is always teaching himself new things and I love it when people love to learn!!  Also, before I met Dr. Kanth, the only thing I knew about Nepal was that it was the location of Mt. Everest.  Now I know that Dr. Kanth is from there, too 😉

Then there’s all those other people.  The internet people that I don’t actually know, but that I absolutely adore.  For example, I’m pretty sure that if I saw CaitlinHTP on the street I would give her a hug, behave as though we’d been best friends a while, and then be hauled off to jail for being the biggest creep ever.  Seriously though (the other part is only not serious because I am not much of a hugger by nature), Healthy Tipping Point is a revelation.  I love it.  I also love Bridget from Stumbling Towards Perfect because she makes me smile and makes me cry.  It’s heartfelt, nearly local, and gorgeous.  I love Jeannett at Life Rearranged because she’s totally mom-spirational, even though I don’t have any kids, and I love her take on life in general.  Her Sunday Smiles are 100% inspirational 100% of the time and InstaFridays are genius!  Same goes for Tsh & Co. at SimpleMom.  Speaking of amazing mom’s, I can’t forget the Crappiest mom of all.  Seriously, go read her Target post, catch your breath, and then come back.

Did you read it?  How hilarious is she?!

And the subject matter people.  They are amazing too.  I wonder if I could ever write something so meticulously researched, so very expertly explained.  (But then again, that is my day job… which is precisely why I don’t do it here.  It is really, really nice to write without citing, to just say whatever you want with the justification of “because that’s what I think.”  I don’t think most reviewers would buy that.)

My favorite ever is Dr. Yoni Freedhoff of Weighty Matters.  Dr. Freedhoff is an MD and when I say MD, I mean it like he’s an actual, practicing physician who isn’t trying to make money selling you the latest miracle weight loss drug (ahem, “Dr.” Oz).  He presents the radical notion that the best life to live is the healthiest one you can enjoy and I love him for it.  If you know me, you know that weight is a thing in my life.  Something that plays on that dreaded second track and cultivating a positive attitude toward myself and others in that respect is paramount to me.  Dr. Freedhoff has a great perspective if that’s something of interest to you.

Other subject matter experts I love to follow include Oh She Glows (even though I am far from Vegan), PhD Comics (because Jorge Cham gets it), PostSecret (because yes, I consider Frank the world’s leading expert on the subject of secrets), I F*ing Love Science on Facebook (I learn SO much!), and the list goes on.

If you’re a friend of mine and blogs have never really been your thing, I would encourage you to branch out and try subscribing to one or two.  Perhaps even this  one 😉  I used to use Google Reader to subscribe to blogs, but switched to Feedly when they shut down.  Feedly is super simple… I highly recommend giving it a try.  But there’s also the email subscription option (see the box on the right).  If you subscribe by email, every time I update, it will come straight to your inbox.  I’m nothing if not convenient.  (And begging for subscribers.  Is this begging?  It might be begging.  Subscribe.)

If you’ve been around the blog-o-sphere for a while and you find me somewhat intriguing, then I am truly delighted to be part of your life!  Thank goodness for the internets, yes?!  Bringing people like you and me together since… ummm… what year was it when I first started IMing via AOL?  It’s been a while anyway.  (I wonder if I still have an away message up…)

So glad you’re here!!

 

*Clever girl… that’s what the dinosaur hunter says in Jurassic Park when he realizes that the velociraptors** teamed up to hunt him.

**Trust story: I look an awful lot like a velociraptor when I run.  Ask any of my high school cross country teammates.