How others define me

On J's Tumblr this morning, I saw that she shared one of those astrology pieces that define each person's philosophies, character and personality by their signs. I love being put into a neatly define little box like that (or I just love destroying them), so I couldn't help but indulge.

As a December 20 baby, I'm technically a Sagittarius, but I'm on the cusp of being a Capricorn. This means I read both analyses and pick the one I like better.



The Sagittarian Woman

Sagittarian women are friendly, sociable, and outgoing.
Yes. Mostly because I drink a lot, but it's kinda true nonetheless.

They have a reputation for being blunt speakers who don't worry how their opinions will be received.
Completely. Even though I'm well aware that being "blunt" is almost always code word for "bitch." Thanks for that.

Like their male counterparts, Sagittarian women love to travel and are curious about other cultures.
Not so much. It REALLY depends on where we're going (beachy and alcohol-y) and if I can fly first class (unlikely).

Like other fire-sign females, they are not afraid to take risks.
Since my first instinct here was, "Define risks," I think I just answered a resounding NO to this one as well.

Sagittarian women are often tall and svelte, though they have a tendency to put on weight in middle age.
Tall!? Did you just laugh as much as I did? Not laughing so much at the middle-age weight gain thing, though. I don't think I want to be a Sagittarius.

They have a fashion style all their own.
This makes me think of the time my mom showed up to my gymnastics place dressed in full-on camo gear. For no reason! WTF is wrong with her? Since that's my frame of reference for unique "style," I feel like this could be either a good or bad statement.



Well, I'm not loving the Sagittarius classification. Capricorn? Your turn. (Andy, pay attention.)



The Capricorn Woman

Capricorn women have a cool, standoffish charm.
Wait, my standoffish-ness is still charming? Win!

Elegant and glacial, they may seem unapproachable.
Okay, we get it, we're aloof.

Actually, this is a mask to hide their vulnerability.
Nu uh! I'm totally a hardass all the time and I don't feel any ounce of vulnerability! (You guys like me, right?)

Capricorn individuals are afraid of "losing face."
Sigh. Agreed.

They fear criticism and can't abide being forced to be self-critical.
I don't so much "fear it" as much as I sometimes "want to slap someone because of it."

This woman is competitive, though she is usually more interested in besting her own efforts than those of rivals.
I'm super competitive. Unless I'm playing Kart with Jay and Billy. (Which is to say, I at least know my own limits.)

If she is not involved in an outside career, she will turn her home into a career.
Oh, I'm sure I would. When I freelanced for a year and worked from home, I was so miserable that I turned into creepy domestic lady who started making dinner at 3pm.

She is a good, if overly strict, mother and expects the best from her children.
Sounds like that's how I would be. Of course, I'm still not totally sold on the idea of kids, but if I were, I bet I'd totally set up unreasonable expectations for them and strictly punish them when they forget to put two olives in my vodka. GO TO YOUR ROOM.


Well, what about you?

Aries
Taurus
Gemini
Cancer
Leo
Virgo
Libra
Scorpio
Sagittarius
Capricorn
Aquarius
Pisces

Australia Honeymoon, Part 3

Almost forgot about this! Here are parts 1 and 2.

Arriving at our room in Port Douglas.

View from our little balcony

First things first: go swimming

Then: snorkel the Great Barrier Reef!

Perfection

They gave us noodles so we could just float and relax.

Dave looked hilarious but quickly ditched his noodle because HE'S A MAN.

I snorkeled at two of the stops, but sunbathed during one of them.

A little overcast, but still awesome

Dave lost his underwater camera at the bottom of the reef almost instantly, so here are my pics.

I don't know what half this shit is.

The biggest fish I'd ever seen. He was as big as me!!

Coral

More

More

Dave accidentally locked our wedding bands in the safe and couldn't open it.

Beach by our resort

How badly do you want to be there right now?

Ahhh, a day at the beach.

Now that I've thoroughly depressed myself and the rest of you who are freezing your asses off this winter, it's time to get back to the real world. Those are the last of the honeymoon pics, so I'm officially out of ways to make you jealous.

Making a difference through oatmeal

As several of you know (because I wouldn't stop whining about it), I was sick not too long ago. I'll spare you the details, but it was gross.

I'd doped myself up on Nyquil, Tylenol and Sudafed, so while my coherence was at a minimum, at least my symptoms were as well.

Of course, when I took my meds on that first morning of misery, I started to feel a little queasy.

"Ugh, my stomach is messed up," I mumbled to Ang. "Am I supposed to eat when I take meds?"

"Yes," Ang said. "I'm guessing you didn't."

"Nah, I don't like breakfast." (I know, I know. BAD ELLE.)

"Here. I have oatmeal."

Now there's something I haven't eaten in a while. Or talked about, even. So you can imagine my surprise when I got an IM the very next day from my Wicker Park favorites that said, "Hey, how do you feel about oatmeal?"

Really, universe?

This fav of mine let me in on Quaker's new project to raise money and awareness about the national hunger charity, Share Our Strength. She asked me if I'd mind blogging about it and asking you guys to participate with me.

Here's the idea:

1. Go check out Quaker's Facebook page and become a fan.
   
2. Download and print out a picture of the Quaker man.
3. Take a picture of yourself in your home with the Quaker man and post it on the Facebook page.
4. Send me the link in my comments section in the next 24 hours.
   

What's in it for you? Aside from entertaining yourself on a Monday, you could also win one of two Quaker coupons I get to give away, each good for $1.00 off any two Quaker products. And if you guys really get into this and make me the blogger that generates the most submissions in a 24-hour period, I win a $5,000 donation to the hunger charity of my choice. (I'm told I cannot pick "my own kitchen," so don't worry -- the money goes somewhere legit.)

Aaaaanyway, even if you're not gonna grace us with a photo of your smiling face, at least check out the Facebook group and pass the link along so others can be aware of this good cause. Thanks for your help!

Twits

I'm in a weird mood right now, so I figured I'd whine about some of the twits on Twitter. These are the people I simply don't have the patience for. I'm not pointing to anyone specific; actually it's more of a categorization. So, even though this has been done before by others, here's my list of Twitterers to avoid.


The mundane
You ate another turkey sandwich for lunch again, huh? Oh, you took the mayo off this time? It's because you RAN OUT of mayo?! Good god, man, this is getting intense! ...Or it's getting really, really boring. I can never remember which. To save myself the trouble of sorting through these thoughts, I'm just going to stop following you. Problem solved.

The oversharer
Sometimes people get just too personal on Twitter. We're talking bodily fluids or drunken daily parenting fails. Sometimes is fine, but when we're constantly hearing about your life's very intimate details, it feels like you totally thrust our relationship to a whole new level without seeing if I was comfortable first. I wasn't. And the worst part about the oversharer is that after he puts it all out there like that, he'll actually get mad when someone responds. "WTF, mind your own business and keep those thoughts to yourself!" You first.

The drama queen
The drama queen will fly off the handle about something minor and will MAKE SURE TWITTER KNOWS IT EVERY SINGLE TIME. There's a heavy use of CAPS lock, exclamation points, "omg" references, etc. Sometimes the drama queen puts herself into situations where it's obviously going to end badly, and then she bitches or whines when it actually does. It's draining and exhausting to keep up with this type, since every tweet is pretty over the top.

The self promoter
This person focuses solely on the shameless plugging of all sorts of blogs, articles and projects that he/she is working on without giving two shits about what anyone else is doing. I'm not saying it's unacceptable to point to your own stuff (I mean, I do it, so clearly it can't be wrong), but when that's alllll that's happening in those little status updates and you're constantly begging everyone to retweet, well, it gets old.

The narcisist
Similar to the self-promoter, the narcissist doesn't talk so much about what he does as much as how simply awesome/cute/funny/talented/amazing he thinks he is. The tricky thing here is that he won't always come out and directly say how awesome he is; instead, he may tell us a quick story about how someone else thinks he's awesome. Sneaky! He can be hard to spot at first for that reason, but after hearing the fortieth story about how he's practically a god, you start feeling annoyed enough to unfollow.


Okay, end rant. Just so I don't end this on a totally sour note, I've also go a quick list of people who are awesome to follow. My loves:


The hilarious
Funny = I love you. 'Nuff said.

The insider
I love following people who seem to know everything before the rest of us, who share great links and who seem to say something interesting/insightful in nearly every tweet. I have no idea how they do it.

Shaq
Shaq gets his own category. He is by far the absolute best person to follow on Twitter, so if you're not already keeping tabs on him, go follow now. You'll get gems like "Cant sleep after a loss, watchn maury povich, i am not the father schwwwww" and "Twitter me this, twitter me that. Hello to all my twittereans, This is the shaq Love u guys." Best part? He quotes himself constantly. Amazing.

The significance of today

Today might be MLK Day (not that we get off work for that around here, which I'm still not totally convinced is legal), but, as my mother reminded me yesterday, it's something else too.


Mom: You have an anniversary tomorrow, you know.

Me: I do?

Mom: Yes. Do you know what it is?


Mental check: I was married in September so there's no way this is a wedding anniversary. Phew.


Me: Ma, I really hate these games. It's always a trap.

Mom: No trap.


For some reason, I ignored the "anniversary" part and instead just started running through a checklist of random holidays or events.


Me: Tomorrow, let's see... MLK Day? Nah, that wouldn't make sense for you to bring up. Your birthday's coming up but that's not until February. Oh, the dog's birthday! No, wait, that's January 23. What is tomorrow? The 19th?

Mom: Seriously?

Me: January 19th...? Ohhhhhhhh. Right.


Two years ago today, Dave proposed.




Happy engagement anniversary to us, even though we probably forgot about it last year too. Pseudo-anniversary fail!

Is he gone yet?

In case I don't share with you on Google Reader, here's a fun little thing I found this afternoon. And by "fun," I mean "disgusting."



Yep, it's tomorrow. January 18th.

Apparently, Sanctity of Human Life Day has been around since 1984 thanks to Reagan, but presidents get to declare it every year if they want. (Clinton declined throughout his 8 years, but Bush is all about it.)

According to the proclamation:

“The most basic duty of government is to protect the life of the innocent. My administration has been committed to building a culture of life by vigorously promoting adoption and parental notification laws, opposing federal funding for abortions overseas, encouraging teen abstinence and funding crisis pregnancy programs.”

Lovely. Here are a few different things I think we should call it:

National Fuck Women's Rights Day
I Will Shove My Politics Up Your Ass Until My Last Day Day
Maybe Someday We Can Knock Back Women's Rights so They're on Par with the Gays Day
Create More Criminals Day


Dave's:

Take That, Nancy Pelosi Day
Remember, "Human Life" Doesn't Include Guantanamo Bay Day
I've Got Your Back, Bristol Day
I'm Just Doing What Cheney Told Me To (Again) Day


And some more that I really wish I could take credit for:

Celebrate the Consequences of Your Rape Day
I Can Count on You Right Wingers to Not Hate Me for Sucking as a President, Right? Day
Women are Essentially Breeding Machines Day
National Morbid Irony Day
Sanctimonious Life Day
All Your Uteruses [Uteri?] Are Belonging to Us Day



Anyone else?

I've been MIA

...and may be for a little while longer. It's been almost a week since I've written anything and that feels kinda weird. But I dunno, there's a lot going on right now and I'm trying to sort through some things, so I'm not quite up to putting the effort into snarky posts. Maybe next week.

But, just so I don't leave you empty-handed, here are some blogs I've become obsessed with:

CookieBitch
What Claudia Wore
Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper

Go read them if you're not already. They're fabulous and fractions of their posts are way better than all of my blog entries put together. (Okay, so maybe that's not such an incredible feat, but they are awesome just the same.)

The one where I do something really stupid

The other day, I ended up watching Wife Swap. I know, that shit is a major trainwreck, but that's why I love it.

Anyway, during this particular episode, a crazy hippie with no exposure to the modern world ended up putting regular dish soap in the dishwasher. Are you kidding me, I thought. What kind of MORON do you have to be to actually do that??

And then tonight, it happened to me:




Don't think less of me, people! It was the damn cold meds! They should all have a new warning label that says, "Do not operate a dish washer under the influence of this drug." I just grabbed the wrong dish stuff in my foggy haze and dumped it in the machine. It's an innocent mistake. I promise you, I'm really not that stupid. It's just the meds!

(Dave, by the way, is having a fucking field day with this fiasco. I know I will NEVER, EVER live it down.)

Internet, please, please make me feel better by telling me something stupid you've done recently. Your humiliation will help alleviate mine.

Goog street view FAIL

When I was looking at Craigslist for apartments, viewing the location on the Goog brought me to this:



Oops.

My first confrontation of 2009

Well, folks, safe to say that I started off the new year with a fight with a creepy man who I wanted to strangle with my bare hands.

After arriving home around 3am with my brother and Dave, we hopped into a crowded elevator in my building. In there was a group a Indian girls, a lone girl, a super creepy guy and us. As soon as the doors closed, the creepy guy, who I will now refer to as Fucktard, made the Nazi gesture over an Indian girl's head.

You've GOT to be kidding me, I thought. HELL NO. I might only be a half Jew but I was 1000% offended and wanted him to know it.

I completely turned my body to him and shot daggers at him. It was the shittiest, most evil look I could muster. (As I'm someone who gives shitty looks on a daily basis with little to no effort, you can imagine how brutal this one was.)

Apparently, Fucktard noticed. Just before the group of girls got off the elevator, Fucktard sways a bit and slurs, "Whahy is eyyyone so pisssssed? I've nee'er seen such pissed people."

Dave, oblivious to the antisemitism (and my "I WILL KILL YOU" glare) says, "No one's pissed here, man."

I elbowed him.

Fucktard continued, "Nu uh. You're pissssed and she's DEFINITELY pissed." Me.

I said, "YEAH I am," as I continued my glare. I also muttered "asshole" under my breath.

Fucktard rolled his eyes. By this time, a group had gotten off the elevator so it was only us and the lone girl. She was wearing a super short dress and Fucktard noticed.

"Oooohhh, heeeey," he said, eerily. "What's thaaat? I liiiike that."

The girl smiled nervously as we exchanged glances.

"Whaaat, man?" Fucktard said to Dave, for absolutely no reason.

"Nothing," Dave said, still oblivious. "I'm not mad."

"Well I AM," I blurted out. "This is fucking bullshit, this guy!! I mean, what the fuck?"

Thank you, the girl mouthed to me.

The elevator doors opened and Fucktard got off with all of us. The girl hurried to the apartment she was visiting and knocked frantically. My brother and Dave kept walking past her, but I stopped and waited with her because Fucktard was lingering behind her very creepily.

"Elle," Dave said. "What are you doing?"

"This guy is being a fucking creepy asshole so I want to make sure this girl gets in to the apartment okay," I said.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," the girl said, as the door opened and she ran inside.

I turned to go back to my place with Fucktard right behind me.

Dave said, "Get the fuck outta here man, you don't live here. You need to go back down that elevator and leave NOW."

We walked up to my door and Fucktard rolled his eyes again. "Can I at least come in to pee?"

Seriously?

"NO!" Dave said.

"FUCK THIS," I said. "Dude, I'm calling security. You're a creepy fucking bastard and you don't belong here."

"That was my girlfriend," he mumbled, as I grabbed the phone.

"Give me the phone," Dave said to me. I did and we shut our door.

Security asked for a description of Fucktard, so Dave opened the door again only to find this moron trying to get into another apartment! He was jiggling the handle and, of course, looking creepy.

"He's got a red and black striped collared shirt on," Dave said, "he's about 5'11" and he's kinda balding."

"Um, and he looks pregnant with his huge ass gut," I added, but Dave chose not to relay that piece of information.

By the time security arrived, the guy was gone. I have no idea where he went or what happened to him, but I was definitely shaken up. I never would have mouthed off like that if Dave and my brother hadn't been around, but I'm glad I got the chance to.

Dear god, I hope this doesn't set the tone for 2009.

I'm so uplifting, I can't stand it

I started a new blog about recovery:
http://elleshares.blogspot.com/

Why? As I eloquently state in my first post's opening paragraph:

Because I don't want my regular blog to turn into the Watch Elle Get Really Deep And Occasionally Bitch About NA, Recovery And Drug Use, I decided to start a separate blog devoted to that topic. Yep, it's gonna be a real spot of sunshine over here.

After I started it, I realized that Dave might want a place to vent as well, so I made him an author on it too. Pretty sure you'll mostly end up hearing more from me, but maybe he'll grace us with with presence. ;-)