I Will Never Look At This Town The Same Way Again

If I've learned anything in the 32 years that I've been alive...

...it is that I do not know how to count.

Today is my birthday. Which means that, as a gift, one of my best friends sent the following line from a work e-mail she received:

"Yesterday the vibrator convoy entered the inner town of [name of European town redacted]."

Which, as far as I know, was not a euphemism. But it will be from now on.

She totally gets me.

We got crushed with snow in the DC area last night and were without power from about 6:00pm on. So, I'm at the office with my 5-year-old today because it is freezing at our house and her school was closed.

As you can imagine, I'm being extra productive.

Leaving early to go home and open all of the fabulous gifts you've surely sent,
Brutalism

Eat Your Heart Out, Gene Simmons

You know, I was thinking I should maybe explain this photo of me from my friend, Simon's, wedding in Santa Barbara.

Then I thought, does this really require an explanation?

It was just really, really good to see my brother...

A Three-Way

While I was talking to my mom on the phone last night, she mentioned that she and her husband just bought a new thermometer. (It's a shame I've never been wanted by the FBI, because the amount of fascinating information they could pick up by bugging my telephone is astounding.)

She further explained that it was a three-way thermometer -- it could take your temperature orally, in your armpit and rectally.

Which, of course, made me think, "Wow. I don't remember eating that."

And, as always, I have some questions:

• Whereas I can appreciate efficiencies, have you really ever wanted to save a buck that badly?
• Is this just a ploy by the three-way thermometer lobby and the label lobby to get you to buy (and aggressively label) one for each purpose just so there is NOT EVEN THE REMOTEST POSSIBILITY that someone else would use a thermometer in more than one bodily location?
• Does anyone use a rectal thermometer once they stop counting their age in months? (Rhetorical!)
• If you lived with even one other person do you trust them enough to always use the properly labeled thermometer? (In my opinion, this  trust issue has catapulted to the top of the list of things to discuss prior to marriage. Ahead of how you spend money, whether or not you want kids and religion.)
• Is it insulting that I always pack my own (one-way) thermometer in my suitcase when I visit my mom on the slight chance I develop a fever during the visit?

Appalled to the utmost degree,
Brutalism

Me Me Me ME ME Me Me

I have finally included an About Me tab on Brutalism. Because after seven years of writing about myself, I figured it was the next step toward complete self-absorption.

UPDATE: DC Blogs linked to my post today -- I heart DC Blogs...almost as much as I loved the spray tan in the late 90s.

Girl Talk

Early in December, I met the Dilettantes out for our monthly activity and annual Christmas gift exchange.

I was very excited to give the Dilettantes the gifts that I had carefully selected -- gifts that I knew were perfect from the moment I saw them.

You see, the month before I had met them out right after one of my laser hair removal appointments. I am now four treatments into this process, and while easily one of the more humiliating and painful experiences I have ever had, I am certainly pleased with the results. Because I had some discomfort that day, I mentioned it to the Dilettantes, who then proceeded to pepper me with questions. Not about how I was feeling, of course...but about which design I had selected.

Amy thought I may have gone for the "Frida Kahlo" (which, honestly, has not really had its day -- so many people go for a more vertical aesthetic.)

Amanda figured that I was going more for a pattern -- plaid or houndstooth, she surmised.

So, you can imagine how thrilled I was when I began my Christmas shopping not long after and found the Woody-Willy-esque "Designer Beaver (registered trademark)."

During the Christmas gift exchange, I presented the gifts to the Dilettantes, with the smug confidence one has when they know that they selected exactly the right present.

A few days later, I got an e-mail from Amy. The body of the e-mail was blank, but it included the following attachment:

It's like looking in a mirror, really.

A few days after that, I also received an e-mail from Amanda. Worth a thousand words, so they say:

It's neither the houndstooth nor the Kahlo,

Brutalism