Wednesday, August 24, 2011

very professional rejects & marilyn monroe

I was just informed that my mother might own the suitcase of the late Marilyn Monroe.  






It could also have been Mickey Mouse's for all we know.  Either way, I'm sure we can make some good money on Ebay.

In other news.  I went to work looking like this today, and a co-worker said that I looked overly professional.

In response, I stood straight up, smiled and said, 

"Oh why thank you.  I had an interview today and I think it went quite well.  Would you hire me?"

These days an interview is kind of hard to come by.  Emails and letters stating that better, more qualified candidates were chosen, start to make a girl feel like a complete reject.  So even the opportunity to interview gave me a boost of confidence and even more so when the interviewers opened with, 

"You have a very impressive resume Shelby."

With that said, wouldn't you want to have dinner with this lady?

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

a story about tortellini

Several months ago, when I was still a member of facebook, a friend's husband asked if "Sabrina Free" (whom he did not know was my mother) was my made up alter-ego.  

Apparently we have very similar personalities and senses of humor.  

This afternoon after realizing I had just made the most delicious dinner, the following texting conversation with my mother occurred:

me: "Dang, I just made some delicious pasta."
mama: "I am making some tortellini."
me: "With my fresh basil and a tomato from Elizabeth's garden."
me (when I realized what mama had written): "oh. my. god."
mama: "ah"
me: "I can't talk to you anymore until we stop being the same person."
mama: "Oh ok bye I have to eat anyways."
me: "I made tortellini"
mama: "No u didn't."
me: "Then what the hell is this?"
Mama: "hmmm."

The End.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

something's gotta give

History tells me that right before I'm about to snap, something happens that brings a kind relief.

That's been happening to me for the last six months.  On the verge of snapping, something happens, and I feel relieved.  Relief comes, things calm down for what seem to be a few short hours and then I'm almost about to explode again.

The cycle continues.

It's like someone keeps hitting the repeat button.

This is happening on a larger scale at work right now, and as I was relieved, everyone else seemed to be entering the "i'm about to snap" mode.

It's hard.

But something will give.  Something has to.  Soon.

I went on two walks today, totaling I think about 9 miles.  My arms are sore.

Is that normal?

I just checked my work voice mail -- don't ask why I'm checking that at 11pm.

A Cuban who called the other day looking for a job called to thank me for getting him some contact information for a possible job lead.

He was close to getting evicted.

He got a job.

I smiled big.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

mangu & piropos

i just made this for dinner & it was everything i had hoped it would be...

it's called mangu -- it's plantain smashed up & it has red onions that were fried in oil & vinegar 

a typical dominican dish

i got another new responsibility at work last week as an employment specialist to the Cuban clients

so one day per week i spend making phone calls to Cubans and conducting interviews with them

today on a phone conversation one asked if i were Dominican




this literally meant, that over the phone, he noted little to no american accent...

Sunday, August 14, 2011

uncomfortable baggy mittens

Ok so it's getting close to mitten season so I decided that I would spend the day making mittens out of old sweaters to sell to all of the cold handed people this winter.  

But I can't find my pattern.

So I looked online.


WHO THE HELL WOULD WANT TO WEAR MITTENS SHAPED LIKE THIS AND ALL BAGGY???!?!?!?!!?  They probably aren't even lined with fleece.

If you want the tutorial of how to make these dumb mittens go to:

Otherwise, stay-tuned as I'll be recreating my pattern this afternoon and actually have a comfortable, stylish, warm mitten that won't fall off your hands, available for purchase.

Monday, August 8, 2011

blisters & living inside of a pumpkin

i wore heels to work today

which wasn't a problem

until cori and stacey talked me into what became a three mile walk of which i traveresed entirely barefoot

i now have two large blisters on each foot

tomorrow i will be bringing a pair of "walking shoes"


in other news let's look at the transformative powers of paint and how i like to color coordinate my pajamas with my homemade fruit smoothies...


hot damn, it's like the inside of a pumpkin... and marvelous
yes, my smoothie matches my pajamas... duh... and yes, my plants look aaaaa---mazing against that color... simply, aaaaa-mazing...

I'm sure Sab will comment on how I didn't mention that I was seemingly freaking out while painting my room and so she finds it ironic that I am in love with my pumpkin living room right now.

It was.  for a moment. screaming at me.

Now it simply says... 

bright happy place that will get you through the winter...

Saturday, August 6, 2011

stump free

a guy named jimmy just removed all of my 
stumps and a big ugly bush
before i lived here

getting rid of some of the bushes
mostly gone

big ugly bush gone bye bye

now -- bush free, stump free

Thursday, August 4, 2011

bitch slapping & hair pulling & riding the rapid

I decided that since the new office is located within a five minute walk from the bus stop and I only have to take one bus to get there, that I would occasionally ride the bus to work.

Today I rode the bus to work.

It let me off on 28th street instead of 36th street, which was annoying.  What the hell does "express" route mean?  Apparently it means it doesn't go the entire route.  Dumb.

Anyways, to my point.

Things like this happen when I ride the bus, right in front of the bus stop.  

Another classy day in G.R.

caliente, frio, roach and indecent exposure

Last night Lindsay and I met downtown for a bike ride.  Remember Caliente?  Lindsay is still pretty in love with him and I am starting to have bike-envy.  We decided to name my bike "Frio" cuz Lindsay was all huffy puffy that all of her modes of transportation have names and mine do not.  We named my car some character from Hamlet but I have never read that book so I don't even know what my car's name is right now.  When Lindsay realized I had never read Hamlet she said,


She kind of overreacted. 

So anyways we ate some food and had some drinks at Cambridge House and then decided to ride down the river path.  It was fun until we saw some creeper's body parts while indiscreetly peeing on the trail in front of us.

So then we road through downtown and stopped at Stella's for a drink.  We fell in love with our waitress who's name was "Roach."

I asked her if they served dessert.

She said "no."

We both had a hissy fit because we wanted chocolate.

I called Sanchez.

I left.

Lindsay saw a guy playing with his body parts and almost grab Roach's ass.  He got kicked out and said to Lindsay,

"Have fun with your bad marriage and have a good life."

I returned with flourless chocolate cake, got three spoons and told Roach to sit down.




And we love her.

So then I went on a walk with my neighbors Travis and Stacey and some kid screamed out his car window,

"That hot babe is totally giving you a boner!"


It was a classy night in G.R.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

shorteralls, stomping in puddles & not being a spinster

This morning I woke up to a text that said "please, do yourself a favor and never get married."  I later learned what it was referring to, but it really got me to thinking.  

If the married people I know, say this to me, is this something I should desire?  If the married people I know have to suffer through their spouse's mid-life crisis, do I really wish that upon myself?  I mean think about it... I'm 31, the midlife crisis isn't that far off... we wouldn't have many good years before they got miserable.  Just sayin'

I decided definitively, that no, I should not.  

Friend... I'll do myself the favor!

I will just hang out and make out and then come home to my peaceful little house at night.  Alone.

The only problem is that sometimes one has a desire to have children so I had to think about how I would remedy this.

Instead of becoming a cranky old spinster I will strive to become the cool aunt-like figure in the lives of my friend's children.

So, in an effort to begin this new sort of life...

I sent an email.

I went to see the boys I used to babysit every Tuesday.

We went on a walk.

We ate ice cream.

We got caught in the rain.

We had the wrong keys and entered the house through the window.

We jumped in puddles.

No one had a time out.

No kid ever gets mad at their fun aunt... 

I get to come home and do what I want and sleep until I want and no one ever complains.  Except me.  And I don't get too bothered by my own complaints.






Plus, I wore shorteralls ALL day.  If you don't know what shorteralls are then you should watch this video.  If you do know what shorteralls are then you should watch this video.

Monday, August 1, 2011

29 days to my life's end

Tomorrow is August.  How did that happen?  With the ending of a terribly long winter, I think I may have gone into summer with my hopes too high.  I feel like it's over and it never began.

With that said, there are officially 29 days left of summer, because in 29 days I start classes.  I think I'm too old for school. 

This is how I feel at the thought of working nearly full time and taking three classes and never seeing any of my friends for the next two years...

I just got instagram too as you can see.  Thanks to my cousins Adie and Linda for introducing me to a whole new universe.  I don't know how to share the photos with anyone though. Ha.

In an attempt to not focus on how summer is almost over, I will end this post by saying this...

For the next 29 days I will make the most of summer and will probably sleep very little.

I will run when it's dark and go to the beach on the weekends.

I will drink summer beers.

I will sit on my porch.

I will make smoothies and drink iced coffee.

You will never hear me complain about the humidity, because every time I feel sweat dripping down my bare legs I think of winter and long underwear and freezing my ass off.

Ok maybe that was more than you wanted to know.  The dripping sweat I mean.