Winter Time

Though I have to admit I would trade this season for Summer and Fall all the time, I am very much enjoying the comforts of Winter this year. With school on the back burner for a few weeks I've been able to spend more time reading, cooking, and relaxing with friends and really, who doesn't love that?

Here are a few shots from the Winter months compiled over 2009 and 2010.

Here's hoping your Christmas was warm and cozy!

Currently Reading:

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close,
by Jonathan Safran Foer.
 

Not nearly finished yet, only 100 pages or so in but please pick it up the next time you're at a bookstore.

Littered with beautiful imagery and food for thought, the novel's unique composition serves as concrete testimony to the awe-inspiring commentary within.

Plus, it has pictures. Lots of 'em.

So far much of the novel is dedicated to solving mysteries and making connections. As a personal project, though I'm not sure I'm the first to undertake it, I've been underlining every "extremely loud" and "incredibly close."

Happy Reading!

Looking for a Laugh?

Why not bathe in my misfortune today folks? As you may or may not know I am employed as Seasons Scum, the affectionate term coined for a receptionist at The Seasons Assisted Living Home.

My duties include, but are not limited to:
kissing ass,
cutting up scrap paper,
directing calls,
filing files,
depositing checks,
and my all time favorite, shredding paper.
Thrilling, right?

Well, today was a little different. Blessed with a co-worker who simply adores these demeaning and menial tasks, all of my "work" was done. Leaving virtually nothing for me to do but be bombarded by angry residents, one in particular, who ugh so help me god if she comes over here one more time before this cursed shift ends. I should have known it was going to be rough when the aforementioned co-worker greeted me not with hello but with "If Room 100 dies, I won't be upset, as in today, if she dies today, I'll be glad." Ooookay.

Obviously sensing a shift-change with her finely tuned hearing aid, about five minutes after Blessed Co-Worker left, Mrs. Room 100 baited her accomplice (or personal CNA) into wheeling her out of her lair to harass me. This is the conversation that ensued:

100:  "THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH MY PHONE." She screeches as while barely able to peer menacingly over the counter top.
D: "Oh, Hello Mrs. _____, the other receptionist told me about the problem Cox will be in as soon as they can to fix it." I lamely reply after failing to successfully hide under said counter top.
100: "WELL WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? Soon! Soon?!?!?!?! I NEED ASSISTANCE, this is assisted living is it not!? Don't they know I need a phone!?"

*Cue Accomplice to look horrified and shrug her shoulders.*

D: "Um, well they didn't specify a time exactly, just err whenever they can. It's not a problem with our facility, Cox Servers, (what the fuck does that even mean?) are down."
100: "FORGET IT, SEND THE NURSE IN. Can you at least do that? Or is that too difficult?" The vein in her forehead is at peak bursting temp now.
D: " No ma'am, I'll send her right away." (Damn it.)

Accomplice wheels Mrs. Room 100 back to her lair, a whole 30 feet away from the desk. Leaving me to think, Jesus Fucking Christ, why don't you just prop open her door so she can hurl grenades at me from her apartment? Wouldn't that be more effective than encouraging the 90 year old Satanist to come over here and render me incompetent every fifteen minutes or so? Fuck this, I'm going to go shred some more paper, save a bit of my dignity.

The day pretty much down spiraled from here. I think the highlight was when Gold Tooth's (Mr. 108) daughter-in-law cussed me out for calling when her husband was clearly busy bringing in groceries. You know, because I fucking knew right?

Thankfully, Pub is happening now and I can probably score a snack. And thanks be to God if I do because for supper they are having the classic Saturday Night Hot Dogs and Beans. Gag.

Unlike Me

Posting twice in a day, that is. But I spent a grotesque amount of time blogging today, which is hard when you're so keen on absorbing, and I wanted to share with you some of what I read.

First up,
http://royalquietdeluxe.blogspot.com/

Because it is insanely inspirational, thought provoking and choppy enough to make you work. The posts are usually clips of poems, novels, songs, movies, whatever; and you have to really click around, follow the links, read, and look up where they are coming from to understand fully the importance of them. But each one is so damn interesting that you just want more and it's easy because the archives are so extensive. Plus she has pictures.

And second,
http://www.kissssing.blogspot.com/

This Porter Hovey person has another blog, and it is damn cute and will be sure to make your heart swoon.

So be swept away for a little lovelies, and take a break to click through these.

Holy Hangover

 

Here is a recap of last night:

First, Katie and I went to Thai Cuisine; we have become grossly obsessed with Pad Thai and Thai Coffee. Also, with each other. It was the best date I've ever been on for reasons stemming directly from sheer laziness and the inability to make decisions, meaning Katie pretty much dominated me and I submitted qualm free. I love going out with her because unlike a man she does not make me feel totally useless when I can't think of a restaurant, or don't want to try anything new when we get there, or don't want to drive. Additionally, she does this in a tactful and semi-subtle way that almost makes me feel as though I have contributed to the night.
Note (while cuddled on the couch):
K: We should eat soon, what do you think?
D: Uh yeah, I am pretty hungry. I don't know. (useless waste of space response, can't even announce hunger without it being suggested)
K: Wanna like get Thai Food or something? (the "or something" is key here because while she has already successfully planted the Thai Itch, she leaves it open for discussion, like if I would ever want something else we could do that.)
D: No, Thai sounds great, want me to drive? (really I don't mean that, because she has heated seats and I don't)
K: Um, I don't care, I mean I have heated seats so.. (Yes! Toasty Butt, here I come)

When we get to the restaurant, she humors me by letting me open and close the menu several times feigning creativity as if I wasn't ordering what I always do, and she wasn't ordering the exact same thing. Then the waitress walks over, looks at me, realizes I am low-functioning as I sit there dumb-struck and panicky and asks Katie what she would like.

K: Vegetarian Pad Thai, and she will have that too with Crab Rangoon.
W: So you will both have Pad Thai with Rangoon?
K: No, she will have Rangoon, I will have veggie rolls, and we will both have Pad Thai
W: Good, anything else?
D: (desperate attempt to be helpful) Coffee!
W: (clearly irritated) Hot coffee oooor Thai Iced Coffee?
K: Thai Iced Coffee please, and water for both of us.

Conversation with the waitress continued in this fashion for the remainder of the evening. Apparently deemed as no more than a noodle-slurping-ding-dong, the idea that I would pay the check was far-fetched and it was handed to Katie. Making her the official Date-Dictator and much to my merriment.

She then carted my toasty ass home, and boozed me up box-o-wine style, never not once asking for a blow-job. Hence, best date ever.

Consequently, today I am suffering the mother of all hang-overs and making small goals for myself. Like trying to keep both eyes open at the same time while simultaneously forming coherent sentences. So far? Impossible.

Check ya later people.

Image Via weheartit.

What I'm Thankful For:

Leonard Bobswell Style

Jord, Jal, Jallen: likes the color teal, very leggy sex goddess, business savvy, makes great pizza.

Kayla, Kay, Kaylor, Lor, Lorence, Pip, Lil Pip, Pippy: voice of reason, innovative salad extraordinaire, and one hell of a head of hair.

 

Katie, Kate, Kath: Not a morning person, heart of gold, impressive musical taste, heavy drinker. 

Britt, Chronley, Chrontons, Chron Bean, Chrontons: Dog enthusiast, swears often, batshit crazy, but v. loyal.

I am thankful for them because they:

Support day, week or month-long fits of neuroticism even when it has reached scary Linda Blair level. Only offering kind words of advice and having unyielding faith that there is a light at the end of the bastard tunnel that is my twenty-somethings.

Encourage gluttony whole-heartedly, and openly curse tooth-pickesque models in Cosmo with cookie-filled mouths often consequently bespattering the counter with crumbs and drool.

Say nothing when the bathroom has become personal home-spa (i.e. sweat-shop dedicated to making a hefty Greek girl appear slender and Swedish.) littered with hair-plucking, tooth-whitening, armpit softening, stretch mark removing, zit-zapping, skin-toning, eye-brightening, bang-straightening, nail-clipping products for days at a time.

Disregard chronic kleptomania, and wait patiently for missing magic fat-disguising shirt, or ass-shaping skirt to return.

Occasionally fold and deliver clothes left in dryer for six or more days. I know the system I use (i.e. removing necessary articles from dryer one by one, namely underwear and tops) does not always coincide with everyone’s individual needs, so your efforts to correct my bad habits are not in vain, the management has noticed and you will be rewarded in due time.

Say sweet and ego-boosting phrases like “Guitar sounds great! Keep it up.” Or, “Was that you playing? Man, I thought it was the radio.” Or, “Woah, I didn’t know we lived with Bob Dylan!” Despite the small fact that, it does not in fact sound great, and we don’t live with him, those are posters I jerk off to, and you’ve been hearing the same four chords played exactly one way for the last two years.

Have not yet submitted me to What Not To Wear, but have instead stuck to nearly effective tactics such as: open ridicule, whole removal of horrid sweater, keenly placed fashion magazines, and the weekly observation of Gossip Girl. 

And because they love me, all the time. 

The End of an Era

Sweet Friends,

I know you've heard it before, the classic break-up line, the easy out, the explanation for all things unexplainable: "it's not you, it's me." Well, I truly wish I could say more but I'm afraid that's all it comes down to. It's nothing you did, just sheer laziness on my part. I even started several posts but felt they were lacking, not enough pictures, nothing witty to say, no exciting news to share, no candy worth eating to provide a link to. The good news? I've missed you, and I hope to be returning regularly now.  However, my reason for returning is all too devastating not to share.

My beloved Prince of Wales, the man of my dreams as well as many distasteful and graphic fantasies, is engaged.
(Oh stop rolling your eyes, ladies. What you had with him wasn't real.)

 

Mmm, gimme that.

Apparently, he and Waity Katie have had a bit of an agreement. Meaning, they've been planning to be hitched since 2007. No. NO! I say. Just to refresh you this was the year they broke up, and the year I began shopping for funny hats decorated with sprigs and veils in preparation for the day I must epitomize royal fashion as England's Queen. The news of their "engagement" reached the states sometime last month but failed to reach me until approximately 2pm Sunday, while I was innocently browsing the magazine racks at the grocery store. 

After sending my sweetie a small collection of collages crafted by yours truly, all that featured the two of us doing activities together back in 2001, I am led to believe he does in fact have my address and could have dropped me a letter.

Additionally, I would like to point out that our relationship began long before his and Kate's and it seems only fair that we be married and not them. I even had the song we would dance to picked out: Get Here (If You Can) by Oleta Adams.

I heard it late one night while listening to Light Rock 105 and pining over my sweet prince; it was entirely appropriate given my understanding that he has access to a private jet and happens to be an excellent windsurfer.

Unfortunately, despite my most sincere attempts to disband their eventual marriage, it is time for me to throw in the towel. Kiss my Prince Charming good-bye and settle for another man.

Top on my list?
HRH Prince Carl Philip of Sweeden

Holla!

That's all for now dear friends,

Danielle

Build Your Own Chocolate Bar?

Aw hell yeah.

Black Out

Today I came to work to find Boomer had been sprayed by a skunk. Apparently, he was bathed in vinegar at least once but the smell is still lingering.  Poor guy. He's still handsome as ever. 

Take a look!  

Seth looks alright too, I guess. I thought it was nice that they were both wearing black. Very classy. I think if I were an adult with my own desk at work I would print out the middle picture and frame it. Alas, I share a desk with three other women and I don't know if they would find that photograph quite as charming as I do. These two guys really do make my work day a little brighter.

April Showers...

....Bring May flowers.

Here are a few shots from April I've been meaning to post:
Better late than never eh? 

Cherry Blossom

The Cherry Blossom Tree in my front yard is in bloom this week. I admire her for daring to reincarnate with such inconsistent weather. I think this courage is important to remember when cleaning up the storm of petals that is soon to come.

This tree and I are entering our sixteenth spring together. It may not look it with all its frill and trim but this tree has held her ground. Did you know to take these photos I had to climb? Imagine that, sixteen years and the tree can still hold my weight.

I love this tree for a few reasons:
1. John loves this tree (sorry to blow your outwardly manly persona)
2. My younger sister beat my roommate with a lacrosse stick after propelling herself from it
3. There is a great branch for doing monkey hangs and backward flips
4. It is cleverly disguised as an ordinary tree with ordinary leaves the majority of the year
5. It makes snow in spring possible

Earth Day

Although, the focus of my yesterday was this lovely lady, I would like to commend the earth for shamelessly tooting its own horn.

As the semester winds down I find myself scrambling to find time for myself between school, work, visiting my family and spending time with friends. And of course, yesterday was no different. I was running on a very tight schedule that required me to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn only to trek to URI before classes even began. Upon arrival I needed to access an article, read the article, start a paper on the article, go to class, finish the paper, go to class, go to the doctor's, drive to Providence, go to class, and hand in the paper.  To be honest, Earth Day was dead last on my list of "Things to Remember."

So, at about 2 in the afternoon with still five hours of the schedule from hell left to complete my day took a turn for the worse. Literally. You see, I had exactly half an hour between class and my appointment and as I turned the corner to leave URI I heard a horrible dragging sound coming from the car. The damn Saturn had foiled me again. This time, the muffler had detached itself from the car and was trailing crookedly underneath. Furious, I called AAA, then the doctor's to cancel, then my mother to cry, and finally Pep Boys to solve the problem. Talk about a monkey wrench.

With no means of transportation to drive to providence, to go to class, to hand it my paper, I was forced to slow down and enjoy the rest of the day. And what a day it was! The few hours I spent outside showcased some of Earth's finest stuff.

 My mom and I were really digging that rainbow outside of Pep Boys. I found it to be terribly appropriate that the Earth share this lovely rarity with us on a day dedicated to appreciating its beauty.

Side note: In addition to everything else, the girls and I have been house hunting (yikes) for next year. Thankfully we settled on a cute little fiveish bedroom house in Bonnet Shores. Although, we are trying to be open minded about the house's location you readers should understand that the right side of Bonnet is the Brooklyn of New York. Its affordability and desirable distance from the beach does not necessarily matter when you started in Manhattan. We will miss "to the left of the fork, and pass the community center" very much. (More on this later.)

Boomer

What's not to love?

Air Show

Upon leaving my Love and Loss class last week I was greeted by this truly beautiful sky. Uncharacteristic of myself the camera was in the car, and fully charged. Score! I paused near the Plains Lot Field to snap a few shots and headed to Maywood. Afraid to waste any time I scooped up the roommates and sped to Narragansett. Totally worth the impromptu drive. The sky had so many colors, clouds, lights, and tones to choose from. I couldn't capture them all if I tried.

This year I have a brand new appreciation for Spring and all the beauty it holds. Suddenly these colors I haven't seen since last summer are coming out of the woodwork. I can't do much else but observe and hope they stick around.

Thanks for revealing your tricks big blue sky, it was quite a show!

Happy Belated Greekster

In the spirit of awkward family photos and unusual holidays I want to wish everyone a very happy Greekster.  Greekster originated three or four years ago; it is a term coined by the Mihopoulos clan, we think. It is generally celebrated within a few weeks of every other Easter but is for Orthodox families only and revolves around passover. This past Greekster was celebrated on Easter and resulted in disaster. My parents and sister were forced to eat ham and hunt Easter eggs while Seth and I feasted on lamb and pork. We followed up our feast with dessert, lounging, "guitar playing," and more dessert. This division caused an inevitable rift in my sister and I's delicate relationship. She was furious when she uncovered our sly maneuver to ditch the Lavoie's.

In addition to this minor family feud, our Greekster was dispersed throughout the United States. One Greek in Texas, another in Colorado, and finally one in Chicago. Our once loud, crowded table too small to not bump elbows became a spacious, polite and dare I say it.. QUIET one. The question of where to seat everyone was not even asked! I suppose this is how the other half lives, or how the rest of Christianity celebrates Easter. I also suppose it was enjoyable despite our dwindling numbers.

How about you? Was your Easter filled with noise, food, and family? 

We Are Always the Same Age on the Inside.

                                                  
My dear friend Anna turned ninety on Monday. She received one of those fancy edible creations that was "much too much" for her to eat alone. Naturally, Amy and I signed up to help. We spent the evening munching on chocolate covered bananas and listening to Anna's absolutely hilarious complaints about the other residents.

This spunky old broad has become one of my closest friends in the last year. Her spark for life and ability to find comedic relief in even the most hopeless situations inspires me every day. Even her trash mouth is admirable. I love her very much.

Happy Birthday Anna!

What's your mailbox say about you?

Seth and I took a walk around Bonnet today to see what kinds of mailboxes were around. We came across some interesting finds. The ones posted above all feature hand painted designs. More specifically they display some Bonnet scenery: light houses, boats, hydrangeas, and fish. All were very appropriate for a beach community.

                                                       

Even the displays were unique. There are clusters of mailboxes, mailboxes on pipes, mailboxes on fences, and even wooden structures designed specifically for mailboxes. However the strangest mailbox we came across stood alone. There was nothing ordinary about it, nor did it have to compete with its neighbors. Check it out!

                                                      

Finally we found some character caused by damage:

                                                   
I find this one to be the most beautiful, it's rusted door and peeling sides tell a story. It's trusty. This mailbox has been doing its job for years.

                                                                     
However, the mailbox with the most personality award definitely belongs to 19 Maywood. Our box has seen it all. Earlier this year someone threw a pumpkin at it, not long after its back was blown out by another vandal. Now it stands sideways, duct taped shut, and entirely out of wack. Unbelievably enough our mailman still delivers to this worn out fella. Deep down we're hoping the landlord doesn't buy a new one for next year.

What's your mailbox look like?