Lately, I just can't stop staring at Corey. Last night, I sat in our bedroom for a long time watching him fold laundry. I am just so fascinated by him and I think he's so hot that I can't stop staring. Plus, everything he does is strange and interesting. Like the way he holds his laundry in place against his chest with his chin while he folds. Or the way he turns the tap water to a gentle trickle and SLLLLLLLOOOOOOWWWLLLYYYY scours the dishes. Or best of all, the way he smiles in his sleep (even when sleeping on the love seat).
I like when he's working on a bicycle and will stop amid the process and stand up, hands on hips, and ponder his work. His brow wrinkles, he is deep in thought, and I just stare and smile. I like watching him be and thinking "This interesting creature is all mine."
Why do I stare at him like this? Am I a psychopath or weirdo? Last night, during the laundry watching, Corey said it was rude to sit there and do nothing and not help. But I wasn't "doing nothing;" I was staring and contemplating this person with whom I have decided to share my life.
I feel like he understands me so well. He always knows why I do things and gets my strange processes and tics. Then I feel like I don't understand him well enough. So I have to watch and study and learn what he is all about. Maybe if I study him carefully, I will someday pinpoint exactly what it is that makes him tick and then I will know why I love him so much.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
The Great Debate: AC or Fan?
I hate air conditioning. It's noisy and makes my nose feel stuffy. And I just somehow feel like it's cheating or wimpy or just...not right somehow. Corey, on the other hand, loves air conditioning. He will stand in front of the air conditioner like a frost-bitten person warms before the fire, cooling his back side and then spinning around and rubbing his hands together in front of the chilly breeze. I like the fan. We have a powerful, silent oscillating fan. It's very tall and white and nice. The five seconds when it blows past you and pauses before turning the other way are wonderful. Sleeping with the fan blowing is like lounging by a breezy lake. I think fans are just fine for cooling the air.
Yesterday, we had our annual air conditioning argument. And yesterday, like always, I succumbed. It was blistering hot in Pittsburgh. Summer in her muggy mood has arrived. My ears got sunburned waiting for the bus. The air was so wet with humidity I couldn't get my elbow pits dry. I lay down on the floor in the living room with the fan oscillating, miserable as I ate nachos and watched a workout video. Corey staggered in the door from his 25-mile bike ride and dripped a puddle of sweat. "Katy, we have to get the air conditioner."
It actually wasn't even much of an argument. I silently followed him to the basement and helped to heave and hoist the beast up the stairs. We plugged it in and looked at each other as the chilly goodness blew on our faces.
"Well..." I said, "This isn't too bad. We can leave it on."
Yesterday, we had our annual air conditioning argument. And yesterday, like always, I succumbed. It was blistering hot in Pittsburgh. Summer in her muggy mood has arrived. My ears got sunburned waiting for the bus. The air was so wet with humidity I couldn't get my elbow pits dry. I lay down on the floor in the living room with the fan oscillating, miserable as I ate nachos and watched a workout video. Corey staggered in the door from his 25-mile bike ride and dripped a puddle of sweat. "Katy, we have to get the air conditioner."
It actually wasn't even much of an argument. I silently followed him to the basement and helped to heave and hoist the beast up the stairs. We plugged it in and looked at each other as the chilly goodness blew on our faces.
"Well..." I said, "This isn't too bad. We can leave it on."
Friday, May 26, 2006
Bus Etiquette
I am going to post about the bus again. People on the bus irritate me so much I sometimes growl when I get off. I feel as though bus riders should do one of two things: buy a bus pass or know the fare before they get on the bus. It's not so hard. If you are uncertain of the fare, ask someone at your stop! They will tell you.
I ride such a crowded bus. On a holiday weekend, when there is construction on fifth avenue, I don't want my bus ride to take a collective ten minutes longer because people are bartering with the driver on their way out of the bus. Have your fare in your hand as you walk down the aisle! I don't want to sit there while you dig in your wallet for a dollar bill. I don't care WHY you need a transfer or where you are going. Pay your fare and get off the bus so we can all get home.
On rainy days such as this, when the bus is particularly crowded, I also get angry at people for their parcels. Take off your freaking enormous backpack if you are standing in the aisle. Yes, it does bother me when it hits me in the head with each jerking stop of the bus. Yes, I mind getting dripped on by your collapsed umbrella. There are many, many other people on the bus. We don't have room for your LL Bean backpack and your golf umbrella and your briefcase.
There is even less room on the bus because of the enormous fat people who take up more than their allotted seat section. These people, who do not pay for two fares even though airplanes require such things, are taking up our bus room so we must all unshoulder our burdens and hold them below seat level.
I like riding the bus. I do! I enjoy sitting in my seat and reading my book and supporting public transportation and boycotting the waste of fossil fuels. We have our own lane on the bus. We allow people to go to bars and imbibe in alchohol safely. We allow the city to build new green parks out of former scary parking lots! If people would just silence their damn cell phone walkie talkies and put down their big bags and have their money ready at the right time, the bus would be a perfect place. Do your part! Stop hogging our time and space!
I ride such a crowded bus. On a holiday weekend, when there is construction on fifth avenue, I don't want my bus ride to take a collective ten minutes longer because people are bartering with the driver on their way out of the bus. Have your fare in your hand as you walk down the aisle! I don't want to sit there while you dig in your wallet for a dollar bill. I don't care WHY you need a transfer or where you are going. Pay your fare and get off the bus so we can all get home.
On rainy days such as this, when the bus is particularly crowded, I also get angry at people for their parcels. Take off your freaking enormous backpack if you are standing in the aisle. Yes, it does bother me when it hits me in the head with each jerking stop of the bus. Yes, I mind getting dripped on by your collapsed umbrella. There are many, many other people on the bus. We don't have room for your LL Bean backpack and your golf umbrella and your briefcase.
There is even less room on the bus because of the enormous fat people who take up more than their allotted seat section. These people, who do not pay for two fares even though airplanes require such things, are taking up our bus room so we must all unshoulder our burdens and hold them below seat level.
I like riding the bus. I do! I enjoy sitting in my seat and reading my book and supporting public transportation and boycotting the waste of fossil fuels. We have our own lane on the bus. We allow people to go to bars and imbibe in alchohol safely. We allow the city to build new green parks out of former scary parking lots! If people would just silence their damn cell phone walkie talkies and put down their big bags and have their money ready at the right time, the bus would be a perfect place. Do your part! Stop hogging our time and space!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Wait...this isn't cheese?
Even though I told Corey I was cooking vegan food this week, he still couldn't believe me that the lasagna had no cheese in it. The tofu (plus ten thousand spices and Spanish olive oil) really became the same thing as ricotta cheese. Honestly! In addition to 4 cups of gooey ricotta-esque goodness, my pan of lasagna invovled delicious spring vegetables and an entire bulb of garlic. Thankfully, I don't have to tutor any more this week. That would have been embarassing.
I'm even learning to trim time off of my real food recipes. I made the tofu mixture this morning before I left for work and I made the marinara really fast and let it simmer while I worked out this afternoon. Dinner would have been done in 1.5 hours if I hadn't gotten visitors who stopped to smell the fabulous aromas wafting around the apartment building. I find it strange how satisfied I am when people gush about my cooking. It makes me feel powerful. Why is this?
My lactard love was so satisfied with this dinner he made me want to cook such masterpieces for him every single day. He is so happy right now I bet I could even get him to scrub the toilet! He gushed about the awesomeness of the cheeseless meal. No lactaid pills? No problems at my house! Today, for the first time, I made a delicious lasagna and will not have to spend the night in a Dutch oven. I might be sold on vegan food after all.
I'm even learning to trim time off of my real food recipes. I made the tofu mixture this morning before I left for work and I made the marinara really fast and let it simmer while I worked out this afternoon. Dinner would have been done in 1.5 hours if I hadn't gotten visitors who stopped to smell the fabulous aromas wafting around the apartment building. I find it strange how satisfied I am when people gush about my cooking. It makes me feel powerful. Why is this?
My lactard love was so satisfied with this dinner he made me want to cook such masterpieces for him every single day. He is so happy right now I bet I could even get him to scrub the toilet! He gushed about the awesomeness of the cheeseless meal. No lactaid pills? No problems at my house! Today, for the first time, I made a delicious lasagna and will not have to spend the night in a Dutch oven. I might be sold on vegan food after all.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
A morning in the life of...
Corey slept on the loveseat again last night. He fell asleep with a bag of Doritos on his stomach, his long legs stretched straight up the wall, and the remote wedged between his back and the seat cushion. When I woke up this morning, the faith healers were working magic on Pittsburgh's public access channel. He had the closed captions on. I cannot imagine what he had been watching the night before when he turned to that chanell originally.
"Were you watching the faith healers?" I asked, to wake him up.
"Of course not. I was resting." How he managed to not only sleep through the night with a light shining in his eyes and his legs straight up the wall but also keep sleeping through the morning sunlight streaming into his face from the kitchen window will never cease to amaze me.
By the time I got out of the shower, he was sitting up in bed staring into space. "Decompressing," he told me. He was mentally preparing to get up and be functional. I ate breakfast, packed my lunch and kissed him goodbye, wondering how he can be so gosh darn cute and so freaking weird all at one time. I wouldn't have him any other way.
"Were you watching the faith healers?" I asked, to wake him up.
"Of course not. I was resting." How he managed to not only sleep through the night with a light shining in his eyes and his legs straight up the wall but also keep sleeping through the morning sunlight streaming into his face from the kitchen window will never cease to amaze me.
By the time I got out of the shower, he was sitting up in bed staring into space. "Decompressing," he told me. He was mentally preparing to get up and be functional. I ate breakfast, packed my lunch and kissed him goodbye, wondering how he can be so gosh darn cute and so freaking weird all at one time. I wouldn't have him any other way.
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