Nostalg-ICK

Nostalgia. What's up, Word of the Day? I couldn't escape it today. At work, Geo texted me and asked "Hey! What's up? How's your day?" And I responded with "I'm feeling very stabby right now." Which sent me back in time to my beloved first job out of college, where our Production team would frequently tell me "This project has me all stabby." Then I got all mushy missing my dear old friends from the good ol' days. I came home and saw the goodbye present I got a billion years ago from that job, which was a mocked up cover of our magazine with my face on it and all kinds of little headlines that both mocked and adored me. I still totally love that thing. Nostalgia.

Here's some hilarious background on nostalgia. Okay, so apparently when I was crazy young, we were cleaning out the attic in my childhood home. My mom tells me she was going through bajillions of boxes with crap from all of us five kids, and cleaning them all out. She got to my box. She'd throw some random article of mine in "trash", but then she'd casually toss all my favorite belongings into the "Nostalgia" pile. I started crying and wailing and being otherwise annoying. My mom was all "What's the matter, crazy person?" And I sobbed, "Who is Nostalgia and WHY is she getting all my stuff?!"

Adorable.

Since that day, I've always had a soft spot for all things nostalgic. The other night, I got an email from my former roommate. She said she was a titch homesick for our old place. I agreed. I'd been having similar feelings lately. I was all "I miss the possibility of having mice in a house." And "All these young 'very put-together' people in my new neighborhood are making me feel like I'm bad Lifetime movie character." And "I want my hammockkkkkk!" So, I did what any rational girl would do. I jumped in my car and drove past my old house to see if it missed us too.

Turns out, I couldn't tell. You know, because it's a house.

But on my way to my old place, I was pleased and plagued by all the familiar things I was comforted by in that neighborhood. Zillions of kids screaming for no reason, no one understanding what a Cross Walk is, but also predictable stop signs and potholes, and the wonderfully familiar scent of the Lake of the Isles. I drove by my old house twice. Once to make sure it was still there, and again to just make sure someone was tending to the wasps nests that tend to form in the columns of the balcony. Sigh. Everything looked fine.

Nostalgia is a very protective thing for me. I don't want anyone else to mess with my memories. I mean, I even go as far as to hate everyone who frequents my college bar. THEY don't know how awesome it was...only I do. And hey, wait! You can't just throw away that hat I wore at my first boy-girl party! RUDE! And how DARE a new breed of youngsters re-discover Saved By the Bell! It's not "kitsch" man, it's LIFE. Jerks.

Anyhoozle, I'm all gooshy and nostagia-y today.

Meanwhile, this weekend, my girlfriend from college is swinging by to see me. I haven't seen her in foreves. Seriously. I've seen her like 3 times in the past 5 or 6 years. So I'm pretty sure I'm going to be incredibly nostalgic with her. Lucky girl!

Well, Nostalgia, whoever you are: Let's not screw this weekend up. We'll give you our best stuff, so make sure it's cool, okay?

Dear Crabby - FINALLY!

Wowza! Can it be true that the last Dear Crabby was two weeks ago!? I feel horrible. There have literally been fives and tens of people waiting for my help with bated breath. Fear not! I'm back at it, Squares! Nothing too life-changing in the hopper, but it's good to get a little warm up in so I don't pull anything by advising too quickly after such a long break. Let's do it.

Dear Crabby,

So I know you're a fellow Public Transportation fan, much like I am. Here's the thing, I'm getting really sick of getting sucked into a book just as I get off my train. Any suggestions on how I can stay distracted but not for too long?

Thanks,
About to Decide to Drive

What's up, A.D.D.?

I know the feeling! As soon as I re-remember all the characters in my book (Game of Thrones, in case you care...which I'm sure you do because it's AWESOME), it's time to get off the bus. It's getting really irritating. But what I like to do is watch a little TV. I downloaded the first season of Happy Endings, which is, quite possibly, the best show on TV right now. Trust me. It's the perfect combination of quick entertainment, constant lol's, and it's not all hard to follow. So, it's great transpor-tainment. Oooh, I like that word. Dibs on making that term up! Anyway, yeah, put some good ol' boob tube on your iPod. It'll make the ride way better, and then you'll know what I mean when I say things like "Women be shoppin'. Women. Be. Shoppin'." Hilars!

Dear Crabby,

I'm pregnant! Woo hoo! I'm pretty excited, and everything is all good in my utero-hood. Here's my big problem. We aren't finding out the sex of this little bun in my oven, and my husband is saying some crazy things regarding names. Cloris has been mentioned for a girl. Stoker and Masher for a boy (what's with the verb names, btw!?) I don't want to hurt his feelings, but those are just not okay with me. Got any suggestions for what I can say to him?

Thanks so much,
Not Naming My Baby Cheech

Hey yo, NNMBC,

I'm shocked you came to a person named PHARON for advice on how to avoid an undesirable name. Bravo! Also, congrats on the fetus! I'll drink your share of the wine for you. You're welcome. Anyhoozle, I don't know how people agree on names for their offspring. Usually, the people I know are super opposite, but then somehow, the thing comes out, and someone says a name, and it just works. I guess all I can tell you is to call his bluff. Passionately throw out some crazy weird names. Then randomly pepper in your REAL favorites, and he'll probably fall for it. You could be all "Let's see. I like Pippola, Shlacy, Poiple, or maybe Abigail for a girl. Or how about Stallion, Durd, or Ethan for a boy." Unless he's an idiot, you'll be meeting little Abigail or Ethan someday. Regardless, you're going to love little Stacey or Snowball, no matter her name!

Dear Crabby,

A friend of mine borrowed a bag of mine, and when I got it back, it looked HORRIBLE! The zipper was broken, apparently a squid or something exploded all over the inside, and it was just so terrible! It's a pretty pricey bag, but it's a year or two old so I feel really bad asking her to pay me for the whole thing. But it's not like I am going to go out and pay a bunch to only FIX it. I don't know what to do. She's typically a really nice and considerate person, but all she said when she gave it back was "Sorry, I guess I kind of wore it out a little!" What do I do?

Thanks,
Sad Sack

Oh no, Sad Sack! That sucks! What kind of person DOES that?! I would guess that for the most part, women who are okay with loaning out their belongings typically do so expecting to get it back in the same condition. When something bad happens, though, the normal thing to do is for the offender to offer to replace the item. In this case, I wouldn't wait too long. I'd straight up tell her that your bag makes you sad now, and the only thing that will cheer you up is a replacement bag. If you're willing to, offer to chip in for a new or similar bag. Otherwise, you shouldn't feel obligated to do that. If she puts up a fuss, ask to borrow her most expensive thing and then either destroy it or keep it for yourself. All's fair in love and ruining other people's stuff.

w000000t! I like getting back into the swing of things! I've missed hearing all your problems, because I've been consumed with my own, which was just so lame. Okay, so now that I'M back, you better get your butts in gear and email your hangups, issues, problems, drama, etc. to pharonsquare@gmail.com. And next week, we'll do it all over again! I'm sure you can't wait. But you MUST! Alright, nutjobs, take care!

My Stain Campaign

Um, can I ask you guys a question? Great, thanks. So...who decided that minor stains on clothes were so terrible? A reason to throw away a perfectly good and adorable article of clothing? Shameful and pathetic? Some Snob, that's who. Listen, I'm not saying you should walk around with dirty clothes, or show up to work in the t-shirt you use when you dye your hair in the bathtub. I'm just saying that I don't see what the big deal is if you get, say, a tiny little red wine stain on the bottom of your super cute yellow Fred Rogers-y sweater that you only got to wear twice before splashing it with, like, one (okay, ten) TINY little droplet(s) of Pinot Noir. Does that really demote me to hobo status?

I think not.

Okay, full disclosure. I wore a stained sweater today. I didn't even realize it until it was way too late. I was standing at work, gnashing my teeth and throwing my arms around in exasperation because of some stupid little thing, when I flipped the bottom of my sweater up and saw the stains. My face flushed and burned and I almost ripped my whole outfit off. I felt like everyone was looking at me and my big red stain(s). Then I started mourning the eventual loss of my sweater. I'd have to throw it away, right? Or wait. Do I?

I decided that NO, SOCIETAL NORMS, I DON'T HAVE TO THROW IT AWAY. I will not be a slave to conventional laundry rules. Listen, I stain my clothes ALL the time because I'm clumsy and I'm very passionate about eating and drinking. But starting now, I refuse to just throw away an article of clothing because it's got a little imperfection on it. It's like a scar. A stain is like a permanent memory of an event. Who am I to argue with the odd ways of nostalgia?

There is obviously a line. Bodily fluid stains of any kind are def not okay. I'm not going to walk around with a big blood stain on my jeans after tripping on the street and mashing up my knee. No. (I almost made a Monica Lewinsky joke here, but I'll abstain. HA!) And probably if the stain is any larger than, I don't know, a hand print it should probably be tossed away as well. But a small ground-in dirt stain on the hem of a long skirt is no reason to go wasting otherwise perfectly good clothes.

A stain is a stain. It doesn't make something DIRTY. Sure it might look unappealing to someone to see an itty bitty grass stain on the elbow of my shirt, but that's not MY problem, right? If you get a scar on your eyebrow after walking into a door, you don't go throwing your face away, do you? No, you don't.

Sure I'd like to be the kind of person who always looks like I crawled out of the pages of a J. Crew ad - you know, all perfect and crisp and clean with bright white things on - but I'm not. I don't iron my clothes, I don't use fabric softener, and I gesture too wildly to control the gravitational effects of spaghetti. It's who I am, people.

What do you guys think? Do you think it makes me a sloppy person for knowingly wearing something that has a stain on it? Not a gross one, or even a big one. But like a regular ol' lipstick stain on a jacket sleeve that just won't come out (seriously, all the stains I've mentioned here are ones that I have on my clothes. Clothes that I still wear.) That's not bad, right? Am I the only one embracing this concept of apparel imperfection? I really hope not, because style is only skin deep people, and those little quirks are what makes each of us individuals. Who's with me!?

Ginormotron, Buses, and Other Achievements In My Day

Great news!  I didn't get beat up OR humiliated on the bus today.  Sure, I arrived at my stop 145 minutes early this morning. And big whoop if I scanned my Metropass at the wrong time on my way home.  The point is, I made it to work and back here relatively unscathed.  And when I got home from work, instead of being inundated with 100 of my former roommates friends, as I did in the past, I came home and grilled a delicious, healthy dinner with the new roommies.  Sometimes the perks of change sneak up on you.

At any rate, I managed to get back to work today.  I was nervous.  I was scared I had forgotten how to do my job.  I was all "What do I do again??"  But instead, I fell a$$ over teakettle back into my comfortable routine.  I got more done today than I do in any given month.  I was all spreadsheets and sales kits and before I knew it, it was 2 p.m. and I hadn't taken a bathroom break yet.  I'm pretty sure most overachievers eventually develop bladder infections.

Win!


Anyhoozle, despite the fact that I kicked buttowski at work it, it turns out I woke up too early, left too early for the bus, and basically wasted a lot of time just waiting around before and after work today.  That's what I get when I overestimate time and always err on the side of getting there/getting things done early.  But maybe I was just overly ready to get back to bidness today.  Because eventually, I was at work, tackling project after project, just thinking "I'm back in control, yo!" and it felt very very nice.

Meanwhile, Claire and I just hooked up Geo's enormotron TV in her basement, and we are now enjoying the fruits of our labor.  A giant Conan O'Brien head?  Yes please!  I'm exhausted now, but I feel good, guys.  I feel like I've gotten a lot accomplished today, and I'm all "King of the World"-y for right now.  I'm assuming this feeling will last oh, I don't know, for about 8 hours and then I'll be at work tomorrow being all "I gotta get out of here!"  I don't know.  I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Okay, well, Claire is calling me to see a hilarious YouTube video, so duty calls.  Thanks for all your supportive thoughts this morning when I was tackling the white whale that was my New Bus, by the way.  It definitely helped!

BUSted

It is officially my last night of my "vacation".  Not going to work for the past week has been wonderful.  I've gone to sleep late, woke up well after restaurants stopped serving breakfast, and despite the massive transitions happening in my life at the time, I enjoyed the freedom with which I could enjoy my days.  But tomorrow, it's back to the grindstone.  Back to business.  Back to routine.  There is a part of me that is very relieved to get back to a schedule, and that I'll be spending the day amongst adults rather than unpacked boxes.  There is one part that terrifies me though.  I will most certainly lose sleep over it.

Tomorrow I will have to ride a new bus.


I had never been on a city bus before living in my last apartment.  So when I finally starting riding the bus, I knew one bus.  One route.  One schedule.  Now, instead of walking to my bus stop 2 houses away, I walk 2 very long blocks away.  Plus, it's an "Express" bus.  Do I swipe my card when I get on?  Or off?  Or not at all?  Where will it drop me off?  Will it be a chronically late bus like the good ol' 25 line?  I don't know!  I can't even remember what number it is!  And, as I wondered aloud to my roommates Claire and Andrew, what if I got on the bus going the OPPOSITE direction?  What if I miss it?  What if people on the bus try and talk to me even though I'm busy watching episodes of Happy Endings on my iPod?  So many questions!  So many new things to figure out!

It was very appropriate tonight, then, to go Back to School shopping with my sister Padrin and her two kids.  I feel like I myself am heading back to school, what with the new bus stuff to learn.  I wanted to stock up like the kids on matching folders and notebooks, #2 pencils, and highlighters, but instead I checked out new Bus Bags (a bag, in addition to my enormous purse, to carry my lunch, shoes, umbrella, etc. in so I'm prepared for anything).  I came up with nothing, which made me even more nervous about tomorrow.  How will I carry all my non-essentials?!

As I was leaving my parents house after shopping, my mom made a hilarious suggestion.  So, Claire and I grew up next door to each other, and have photographic evidence of the two of us together for about 8 years for the First Bus Ride of the Year at our corner bus stop.  My mom suggested Claire and I take a photo together tomorrow morning.  I offered this once in a lifetime opportunity to Claire, and though she laughed hysterically, she was certainly not going to humor me.

But, I've set out my clothes for tomorrow, packed up my iPod after loading it with new podcasts and TV shows, and studied the bus route map for longer than I care to admit.  I'm hoping that I don't end up in St. Paul instead of Minneapolis, or that I don't fall asleep or something and miss my stop altogether.  But as one of my friends helpfully pointed out "Uh, Pharon?  It's a bus.  Not a spaceship."  Hmm.  Good point.  Maybe I should be a little bit more concerned with actually not falling asleep or having a nervous breakdown at WORK.  That's a tad more important...

Alright, good luck out there this week everyone!

Alabummer Bound...For Realsies This Time

Alright, guys.  I'm back.  I'm horribly puffy-eyed and a zillion pounds heavier than I was last week, but that's why I blog and not vlog.  It was a long effing day.  I spent the afternoon holding back tears and shopping for underwear with Geo (go on over and check out www.goodguystoknow.com to see what that's all about) before he finally packed up his bags and headed down to Alabama.  Stupid Alabama.  

Guh.  I miss Geo a butt load already.  You don't realize how much you actually like someone until they are leaving.  Here's a tip for those of you considering giving a long-distance relationship a shot:  Don't.  It's hard.  And it's sad.  And Geo owns a lot of stuff that I like to use on a regular basis.  Like an iPad.  So that's a big loss right there.

I went to my parents house after Geo left to bawl my eyes out, and I nearly scared my nieces away from me for good.  "What's wrong with your face, Pharon?"  Despair, kid.  Well, that, and poor skin care for the past couple weeks - don't shy away from the nightly face wash, kids.  My mom and sister Padrin ordered me out of the house for a nice dinner with them, which was greatly appreciated.  You know who's more annoying than a woman sobbing over a man?  No one.  So, sitting amongst normal human beings was a very good idea.  The second Padrin starting dishing some good gossip, I felt confident enough to remove my Hollywood-style sunglasses and tried to feel the sun on my eye bags.  That glass of wine was very helpful too.

Here's what I'm getting at.  Geo moving away for fewer than two years straight up sucks.  He's some of my best blogging material!  But, if I'm being honest, it mostly sucks because I just love him and miss seeing his crap laying around the house.  He assured me that this would be the hardest day, and I hope he's right because it's been a dumb, dumb day.

I'll try and end this on a bit of a cheerier note, though:  I had a dream last night that Ashton Kutcher proposed to me and then told me that we were going to move back to Iowa City (where he's from for REAL, and I went to college there for REAL) and he was going to be a biochemical engineer.  I said it was cool, but he gave me a really weird ring with a bell on it, and I also knew he secretly loved Jennifer Garner, so I hooked them up and then they sent me a tiger as a "thank you".  And the tiger was adorable and I named her Steamfoot Hotbutt because, well, that's just how it happens in dreams.  The point is, I will be getting a pet tiger.

Okay, have a great weekend, everyone!

I'm Lost, and I Can't Geocache My Way Out

Yowza. Lots has happened since my last post. Without boring you with the details, here's a quick outline:

1. We've officially moved out of our beloved house.
     a. Cleaning a four bedroom house with just Geo and me was excruciating
     b. Moving while it's 98 degrees outside makes for a cranky Pharon
     c. Geo commented, as we were arguing about the logistics of hauling a weight bench up from our basement, that it was "good couples skill building" because it builds "patience".  I asked "Why, have you lost all yours with me?" and he said "It's just a challenge."  RUDE.
     d. After all was said and done, our house looks better than it did the day we moved in. I wonder if there's any chance I could re-rent it.
     e. I think the process of moving makes the process of LEAVING a place easier. Though I shed a few tears as I was pulling away, I was so relieved to just be DONE that I coped better than I thought.

2.  I've moved into my friend Claire's house.
     a.  It is hard moving into someone else's house when they already live there.  As good of friends as Claire and I are, I can't help but feeling like I'm constantly breaking unwritten rules of the house.
     b.  Unpacking is not nearly as much fun when I know I'll be moving again in the next year, and I just finished one of the most hellish moves ever.
     c.  Why did I pack so many stupid extension cords?
     d.  Why didn't I pack more toothpaste?

3.  I'm an emotional wreck with Geo's impending departure to Alabama on Thursday.
     a.  I thought I was going to be all cool and calm and collected.  I am definitely not.  I told my sister Prinna, in between sobs on the phone, that I thought I'd be doing better than I am.  She told me to not worry about it so much, and it would all be okay, and I knew she was right.  So I blew my nose in a sock and pulled myself together.
     b.  I'm getting a cold, which makes everything worse.
     c.  I haven't made a good food choice in a full week.  I ate a cookie instead of veggies.  French toast instead of fresh fruit.  Bag of Bugles instead of a real lunch.  How do you know if you have gout?  I told Geo "Sorry, but this is probably the fattest I'll ever be.  Technically, it's YOUR fault though, so...yeah."  He said "What? You're crazy.  You look great."  Smart guy.

4.  Geocaching is just not all it's cracked up to be.
     a.  What is geocaching, you ask?
           i.  It's a good way to get outside and walk around and have fun by looking for little mini treasures in your very own neighborhood using a GPS.
           ii.  It's also a very good way to get Lyme's disease
     b.  Why would you go geocaching, Pharon?
           i.  My lovely family wanted to take my mind of going nutso about Geo.  By going GEOcaching.
           ii.  If we would have gone somewhere other than the rain forest we apparently have in Edina, I would have totally loved it.  I like hide and seeking, actually!  But the bugs were THICK AS THIEVES and our GPS was on the fritz so we couldn't actually find anything.  Bummer.
     c.  I will  be geocaching again, though.  It DID take my mind off Geo for at least a little while.  That is, until I decided that Geo would probably LOVE geocaching.  Wah wahhhhhhhh....


So, there it is guys.  My life and weekend in a nutshell.  I've got a desk now, which holds my computer, so my blogs will definitely be easier to put together.  Towards the end of the move, my computer was tucked in my dirty laundry basket, so you can trust that I was shocked to find it at all.  Send me some good thoughts, guys. I've got a lot of adjusting to do here pretty quick, and I am a horribly stubborn person.  What could go wrong??

Alright, I'm off to bed in my new pad for the second time.  Sweet dreams!