They Wrote Back!

Our Australian Alter Egos wrote back . . . and they use the word "keen" - I love it!!

Hi Ben and Lauren - the American version!
Pleased to meet you. To give you a little background, we met online - I am British, Lauren is Australian. Lauren moved to the UK and we lived together for 2 years, before emigrating to Australia. We are now planning a move back to the UK as we've decided we prefer it over there.
I am a programmer, Lauren is an accountant. Thanks for the praise, I write music and Lauren is a keen photographer. We had a read of how you two met and got engaged, it's a very sweet story!
All the best from Australia, we hope you have a great Christmas.
Ben & Lauren

We Bought This.

Very exciting.

People You Shouldn't Piss Off

There is probably an informative list somewhere of people that you shouldn't piss off. Capping the list are people like: the nurse who distributes pain medication, spiritual leaders, and that kid from high school who wore a trench coat and painted his fingernails black.

Up near the top: The lady who will be doing your makeup at your brother's wedding.
And I think I made her angry.

She works at the make-up counter at the mall. I ran in during my Atlanta-escapade this weekend to exchange a mascara. (Side story: I purchased the mascara last time I was in Atlanta, and when I finally opened it up to use it last week, it smelled like tar. Bad, burned, tar.)

While at the counter, I thought I'd try a new bronzer, since mine ran out about 3 months ago and I have since resorted to just putting blush all over my face. She showed me the color I would need. And I was all ready to buy it - before I remembered the curse of Trish McEvoy - none of Trish McEvoy make up products come in a container of any sort - you have to BUY THE COMPACT ($18) separately. I know. Bologna.

So I went to a different counter. And I bought the same exact bronzer from a different company - only this time, I didn't have to pay $18 for the container. But I made her angry. I'm sure of it. She gave me a bad look and called out to me as I left the store (in the most passive-aggressive tone) "Don't worry, I'll remember your colors for the wedding."

Great. Now I'm going to show up at my brother's wedding made up like a whore.

Wanted: MWC seeks T4R

Married White Couple searching for a Toyota 4Runner to live with us, love us, and take us places we've never been (and also to work everyday).

Must be healthy, clean, and relatively young (less than 4 years old). We'd prefer one that has only been with one previous partner (as opposed to a former rental car that's had many drivers - likely mistreated in past relationships - and more likely to have picked up lord-knows-what out on the streets).

Race is not a huge concern, but we'd prefer black, silver, or grey.

Our Australian Alter Egos

Husband and I have alter egos. Well, perhaps just nominally. They are a married couple in Australia with our exact names - first and last. Based on their respective websites, I have gathered that she is a professional scrapbooker of some sort. While he is a musician, artist, computer guru, and blogger. Tonight, for some reason, I felt compelled to make contact. So I emailed them.

There is a chance they are lovely people, much like us, only more artistic. But I also recognize that they could be complete crazies . . . exactly the opposite of us in every way - like Bizarro World (shameless Seinfeld reference). If they are brave enough to respond - I'll update.

Lost in Translation

Last night, Husband and I were watching the Roast of Cheech and Chong (quality family programming). Tom Arnold stood up to do his bit and I pondered (out loud) why his tongue looked bright yellow. Husband replied, "He was sucking on a lossenger, I think he has a sore throat."
Me: A what?
Him: A lossenger.
Me: A LOZENGE?
Him: No, a lossenger.
Me: Seriously honey, I think it's called a lozenge.

This went on for a while. He was a steadfast and worthy opponent. This discussion/argument ended the way many of ours do. He said, "Call my mom."

And so I did.
I told her I had a sore throat, and I wanted to suck on a soothing drop of some sort. She recommended . . . . a lossenger.
His father stood valiantly behind the blood line and also swore allegiance to "lossenger"

My sister-in-law wasn't picking up her phone.
I called her husband, who I figured I could count on for some intellectual back-up that Husband's bloodline had, in fact, made up this word. He was in class.

With no actual human support. I went to the internet. No valid search results for "lossenger." Or even "losenger." (With the exception of a few folks posting on chat sites . . . but their intelligence and history of proper use of the English language could not be verified.)

I finally found an entry for “Lozenger” . . . . that reported it "is an archaic spelling still in use in a few American dialects. It is occasionally mistaken for a singular form of “lozenges.” The standard spelling is 'lozenge.'"

The site was titled "Common Errors in English Usage" and is based on a book published by a English professor from Washington State University. Apparently one of the few archaic American dialects that still uses "lozenger" is that of Husband's family. I suppose I can let them have this one on a technicality.

(as an aside: when I ran the spell-checker before posting this entry, the word "lossenger" - and all of its various spellings, came up as incorrect. Hmm.)

Deadline Day

Today was a big deadline day for college applications. Lots of schools had their Early Action or Priority Deadlines on December 1. We have been preaching to our kids for 4 months to have their applications completed early so they wouldn't be sitting in my office, on the day of the deadline, heart racing, biting their nails, trying to clean up an essay that was written during their lunch period, and praying that their Internet connection holds up at home so they can pay their application fee before midnight.

They were in my office today. En masse. Racing hearts, stubby nails, unfinished essays, and all. Que sera.