Thursday, August 31, 2006

Such Great Heights

I'm terrified of heights. Roller coasters, bridges, bleachers....forget it. I didn't even know I was so scared until Michael and I climbed a fire tower once while hiking and I froze midway and had to be talked down.

So, needless to say, I was not entirely thrilled when I learned my office would be participating in a team building excursion, complete with a high ropes course. *Gulp*

The day started off well with various ice breakers, but in the back of my mind I knew the high ropes were coming.

We made our way over to the course and looming in front of us was a 30 foot rock wall. We put on our harnesses and gathered around the base of the wall. My boss went first. He had been adamant that he would not be able to reach a certain mark on the wall. He passed right by it and made it more than half way. That was really inspiring.

Then another co-worker took her turn, shimming up the wall like she was a monkey. Yeah, right. There is no way I could do that.

And then it was my turn. I didn't want to go. NOT AT ALL. But my co-workers were really encouraging and I figured if I could just get a couple feet up it was an accomplishment.

Well, I got more than a couple feet. With directions and encouragement from my co-workers on the ground I pushed through my shaking (like a leaf in the wind...making it really hard to hold on!) and navigated the wall almost to the very top.

My rope had been caught on one of the rocks so as I made my descent my body was hurled around the wall to the back, smashing my left arm against the wall. Then I made it down the rest of the way correctly.

With tears in my eyes my feet touched the ground and I was applauded by my co-workers. It was pretty cool.

I was so frazzled afterwards, what with my adrenaline through the roof, that I began frantically searching for my sunglasses.

"I know I had sunglasses before," I said. "Where are they?"

"Molly," my boss laughed. "You're wearing them!"

Oh. Right.

So now I have a huge bruise on my arm and my body is sore from using muscles I didn't know I had. But that bruise is proof that I did it.

And damn it, that feels really good.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Maybe I should start drinking coffee

I just read the headline "One Injured in Turkey Explosion."

My first thought was, "what were they feeding that turkey?"

Oh, yeah. Turkey. The country.


Monday, August 28, 2006


1. Why is it virtually impossible to open the packaging on CVS brand Imodium? It's like the manufacturers are playing a sick joke on you. Need some advil? Just unscrew the lid. In need of something for your allergies? Just pop out the pill. But need something for the tummy and nooooo. Cut to me jabbing nail sissors into the packaging and cursing loudly.

2. Why do people feel it is necessary to bathe in perfume? Other people might not enjoy that particular smell. Or it might cause one to sneeze multiple times and consider taking some allergy meds. (Just pop out the pill!)

3. It's raining. Hard. You know what that means. It's me against Route 1 today.

4. Michael works a lot in the summer. I'm ok with it most of the time. I've accepted that overtime is sparse the rest of the year and now is the time for him to take it. But I'm usually prepared. Yesterday afternoon I was taken off guard. I assumed he was home for the whole night, but when he woke in the late afternoon after working an overnight he told me he had to be back at work for 6 p.m. ordinarily this would have been ok, but I was so excited about spending time with him that this broke me. I cried. It wasn't pretty. We're talking snot bubbles.

And then, after calming down, the masochist in me decided it would be a good idea to watch A Walk to Remember. More snot bubbles.

5. Rain and shoes don't get along.

Friday, August 25, 2006

1000 Words

There's a new woman in the downstairs office. I walked by her desk today and noticed a bunch of framed pictures.

There was one of some children, one of a dog and some other various family shots.

On the far corner of the desk was a picture of a man standing on some rocks with his hands on his hips. I assumed this man to be her husband.

Until I took a closer look.

The picture is of the guy from CSI! Displayed proudly with the other family photos.

This just strikes me as odd. I know people hang posters of celebrities they like or use them as the background on their computer.

But I've never seen a photo framed like an everyday snapshot.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, what is this one saying?

Thursday, August 24, 2006


Did you know that Pluto is no longer a planet?

I think this is so weird. We're all going about our normal every day business when BAM! No more Pluto.

Who is this International Astronomical Union anyway? What gives them the right to take away Pluto? And how come I didn't get to vote?

Maybe I liked Pluto. I think Uranus should have gone. He's an ass anyway. (Oh come on, you liked the joke.)

So now we have Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.

My Very Eager Mother Just Served Us.....Noodles?

(Ok, I stole the noodle thing from my boss. Credit where credit is due.)

The Story of 38 BP

It's a long one.....

When I look back at college there are three women that will always define a huge part of who I am. Our house, 38 BP, was the setting for New Years Eve parties, Food Network marathons, yummy dinners, heart-to-hearts, some good crying fests and of course, lots of laughs. Even though we have all gone our separate ways, the connection to each of them is forever.

Each of these women deserve their own introduction. In order of how we met:

KTP*: My roommate freshman year. We spoke on the phone about two weeks before moving into the dorm and hit it off immediately. She was quirky and friendly and we were both kind of in the same boat with our high school boyfriends. She was a native Rhode Islander and promised to teach this New Yorker all about the little Ocean State.

For reasons that escape me now, she wasn't going to be able to move in the first day. I went out that night and had the typical freshman-first-night frat party experience. When I stumbled back to my room at 2 a.m. I was surprised to see KTP unpacking! Turns out she could come (late) after all. I think I mumbled something about how this was not the best first introduction and fell into bed.
Our friendship was solidified later that week. It was a lazy Sunday morning. I came back from breakfast and got back in bed. KTP was watching a show on the discovery channel about the U.S. Mint. After about 10 minutes I said, "This is really cool." "Oh, thank god!" she exclaimed. "I thought you would think I was weird!" We were good friends since that day.

Boobeski: She lived down the hall from me and KTP. She didn't really love her roommate. I think we had a very intense conversation (because you know, all drunken conversations are really intense) while sitting on the hallway floor one weekend. The friendship didn't solidify until a night that we will just call the Goldshlager Night. Boobeski took good care of me and made sure I made it to bed safely. After that night we started eating meals together and just generally hanging out. The friendship grew really quickly and before I knew it we were pretty much attached at the hip.
We spent many nights hanging out, watching tv, drinking...oh the drinking.... (there was a lot of that freshman year) and making Wendy's runs. I even spent a couple Easters at her house in MA. She taught me the joys of comfy sweatpants. I taught her the joys of eyeliner. Oh, and the nickname? She has gigantic boobs. And they are fantastic.

Elle: My freshman year I joined the Student Entertainment Committee (SEC). Elle was a general member and I remember seeing her at a few events. As a matter of fact, the one time I really remember her being there I thought she was really annoying! We didn't become friends until our sophomore year. We were on the same exec committee on SEC. We bonded over how miserable we were in our current living situations. I was in a triple where I didn't feel wanted, she was living off campus with the roommate from hell. We went to a party together. I got sick. She took care of me and let me sleep over. We found out the room next door to mine was going to be open the second semester. What a perfect idea to move in together! So we did. Then we went to another party at the same house. She got sick. I took care of her.
It wasn't until the first real week sharing a room together than we realized how obsessed we were with each other. She is crazy, in the most wonderful sense of the word. Whether she was dancing around the room in HUGE pink sweatpants (Ham!) or throwing candy hearts at me, or if we're watching "The Sweetest Thing" again, we were always having fun. We even made a combination of our names that other people referred to us as. MoElle. We love us. I am also proud to say that this girl is not only my friend, she is my sister. Zeta Epsilon Tau Alpha. Heart.

I miss you ladies. <3

I told you it was a long one!



I just read my email and had comments from people. People I don't know!

That means people are reading the blog and I'm really happy about that.

So thank you, people I dont know.

You made my day.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

So Good

A woman in my office brought in fresh stuff from her garden.

Now the whole office smells like fresh basil and tomatoes. Two of my FAVORITE things.

I am in heaven.(And I will probably eat my weight in tomatoes today.)

Monday, August 21, 2006

It's all Chinese to me

I'm waiting in the Chinese restaurant for my lunch. I'm following the correct waiting-for-your-food protocol, minding my own business while not looking at any one person in particular.

"Is the food good here?" A woman next to me asks.

"I've only been here once but it was pretty good," I reply.

Woman: "What did you have?" (She is not following protocol.)

Me: "Um, I think it was orange chicken."

W: "What did it taste like?"

M: "Orange chicken." (I pretend to read something off the wall menu. I will her to stop talking to me.)

W: "What does other Chinese food taste like?"

M: "Excuse me?"

W: "You know, like the noodles and stuff."

M: "Have you ever had Chinese food before?"

W: "Yes, lots of times."

M: "Ok...."

Woman pauses. "You have really tan feet."

Happy Monday!

Puppa Doo

It just occured to me that I haven't talked at all about the dog. Kodiak is our BIG Newfoundland. He's a little over a year and a half and is a big puppy. And I mean big. He's 120 lbs.

I had a dog as a kid but nothing his size. I was a little unprepared for what it would be like to have something so big roaming around the house. Michael has wanted one since he was a kid and Kodiak is really his dog. If Michael is home Kodiak doesn't pay too much attention to me.

Most of the time he is just a big baby who wants love and attention and lots of tummy scratching. Most of the time. Other times he is a HUGE butt head who likes to bark and run around the (small) house crashing into furniture. Five percent of the time he makes me nuts.

Like this morning. 6:15 a.m. Bark! Bark! Bark! Crate rustling. Silence. (I'll ignore him, he'll go back to sleep.) Bark! Bark!........BARK! (Fine! I'm getting up!)

I let him out of the crate. He proceeds to run around the house picking up all his toys to show them to me. (A daily routine.) I'd really like to squeeze an extra half-hour of sleep back in so I let him outside.

6:45 a.m. Bark! Bark! Bark! I hear him run a lap around the yard. Bark! Bark! Bark

This time Michael gets up and lets him back in the house. I finally get up to get ready and he's lying on my feet while I try to do my hair. He likes the hair dryer.

All of the sudden he's crazy man, running around and barking. This time it's not ok. I grab him by the collar and put him in his crate again. I leave him in there about 20 minutes to calm down. Just as I'm ready to leave I let him out. He comes over to me and rubs his cute head on my leg and I scratch his head. Then he lies down like a good boy.

He drives me nuts, but how can you not love that face?

Friday, August 18, 2006

Thoughts on the way to work

Lady in the SUV who nearly killed me: please don't throw your hands up in agitation when I honk my horn at you. You started coming into my lane while you were NEXT TO ME. Not in front, not behind. Next to. If I had been smashed into the guard rail, it would have been your fault.

Man on cell phone: You look funny talking into your head set. You know they make little ear pieces now? You don't need that telemarketer looking head set with the microphone wrapped around your face. Also, please talk in the right lane. Talking on your phone makes you drive slow.

Person in silver Accord: This is one of those things I will never understand. You were driving in the left lane. You were going slow. Myself and my fellow commuters passed you. On the RIGHT. That means you were driving really slow. After a couple miles I see this silver blur come flying up behind me and sail past me down the road. It was you! What the hell? 45 to 80 mph for no reason?

Man merging onto 95: You probably couldn't see me behind you with all that junk in your car, but dude, you're merging onto a highway. That implies that you must move a tad faster than you would if you were merging onto, oh I don't know, a dirt road. Oh yeah, and your bumper sticker, "My other car is my Berkinstocks" doesn't make sense. I understand your crunchy joke, but really.

Lastly, what is with these lyrics? Your arms are my castle/your heart is my sky/they wipe away tears that I cry.

So is it the arms or the heart that's wiping away the tears? Wouldn't you use hands to wipe away tears? I guess I can understand that the arms are like coming home (to your castle), but your heart is my sky? What?

I just love being a commuter.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

So there.

Dear Route 1,

This has been a long time coming. Don't act surprised. While in the scheme of things our relationship hasn't been very long, I'm going to be the adult here and tell you: It's just not working.

I have decided to end our relationship. Since I do have to use you every day to get to work we will still see each other. But I will pass over you without so much as a smile. Don't worry about making awkward small talk. You are dead to me. Here's why:

1. All the on and off ramps, cross-overs and turn-arounds. I just don't get it. Who thought it would be a good idea to have someone get on you from the right, then have to shoot across two lanes of traffic to reach the turn-around to head the opposite direction? I don't appreciate that. If I'm in the right lane and see someone merging it is instinct for me to get in the left lane. How annoyed I am everytime that person cuts me off to turn around! Oh, and having them come to a halting stop in the left lane while people are coming up behind them going at least 60? Bad.

2. No lights. Not one lamppost to be found. You could at least have reflective paint or those plastic reflectors in the dotted line. You are a main road! Get with the times. Do you know how difficult it is to see at night, especially when it's raining

3. Which brings me to....improper drainage system! This is New England. We get rain....which has to go somewhere. Letting it pool into the right lane is not the best option. I really don't like hydroplaning.

4. Cops. They're everywhere. They don't even hide anymore. Have they given up on you too?

5. The blood stain. It's still there. I was sitting in that traffic jam the day the motorcyclist got hurt. That was weeks ago. Please, please, please clean it up. I cringe every time I drive by it.

I hope you understand why we can't be together anymore. Just remember, it's not me. It's you.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006


There is a very good possibility that in the next few weeks Jen will be moving 25 minutes away. I know that 25 minutes isn't very far, but what's getting to me is that things will inevitably change.

I am so used to living 3 minutes apart and there's something really comforting about dropping by her house whenever, helping myself to something in the fridge and reading a magazine before taking a nap on her couch. Her family is my Rhode Island family.

So while I really am happy for her to move out of her house and get an apartment, I can't help feeling sad. It was hard enough having all my friends leave after college. I didn't want to go through that again.

And yes, I'm being a tad dramatic because as Jen says I'm just getting that RI mentality that 25 minutes is far away. But it is far when you factor in the above.

I know we will still go out drinking, judge karaoke contests, shop at Marshalls, go for walks and stay just as close friends as we are now. It just won't be as frequent.

And that makes me sad.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

We've all been there

I thought this was funny so I'm going to share it with you. Comments included.


1. We have absolutely no idea where our purse is.
Or our wallets, phones, etc.

2. We believe that dancing with our arms overhead and wiggling our butt while yelling "whoo-hoo" is truly the sexiest dance move around.
I believe there is photographic proof of this at my initiation social. *Cringe*

3. We've suddenly decided that we want to kick someone's ass and honestly believe we could do it too.
That girl that looked at you the wrong way in the bathroom? She's a bitch and you could totally take her.

4.In our last trip to pee, we realize that we now look more like a homeless hooker than the goddess we were just four hours ago.
This is probably the most accurate on the whole list. You know you want to believe the mirror is lying!

5.We start crying and telling everyone we see that we love them soooooo much.
No I love you so much!

6. We get extremely excited and jumy up and down every time a new song plays because "Oh my god! I love this song!"
Happens every time at karaoke night. Every. Time.

7. We've found a deeper/spiritual side to the geek sitting next to us.
Or in mine and Jen's case, we decide if karaoke Gary really lives in his mother's basement.

8. We yell at the bartender, who we believe cheated us by giving us just lemonade, but that's just because we can no longer taste the gin.
Haha Jen, I'm sorry! This is totally you. "There's no Captain in my diet!" I taste it. "Um, Jen...."

9. We think we are in bed, but out pillow feels strangely like the kitchen floor (or the mop?)
Or the bathroom floor. (38 BP) The cold tiles just felt good!

10.We fail to notice that the toilet lid's down when we sit on it.
Never happened to me, but hovering over the toilet is tough.

11.We take our shoes off because we believe it's their fault that we're having problems walking straight.
Right. And you take them off in the middle of a dive bar with people walking all around you and wonder at the end of the night why your feet are so dirty and bruised.

Monday, August 14, 2006

So gross I have to share....then probably go throw up

My office is in an old mansion built in 1842. The architecture is pretty cool and it's neat to think I work in a former bedroom or sitting room. The bathroom still has an old tub in it.

There are some downsides to working in an old building. Mainly the attic (where I have been once and don't plan on going back to) and the basement (which I've been told is like something out of Silence of the Lambs. I definitely won't be going down there!) The stairs are also very narrow and they curve sharply to the left under a low ceiling which you have to duck under. Various pipes run across the ceiling as well. I have hit my head more than once.

Now as you all know, I am smell-sensitive. (The B.O. smell went away, if you're curious.) But I completely understand that when you've got to go, you've got to go. We've all been there. Office poops are part of life.

So I'm heading down the narrow staircase to go raid the supply closet for some new pens. I'm half way down, positioned just under the pipes when I hear a flush. I pause and look up at the pipes, I guess as a reflex to hearing a sound above me. (No, the pipes didn't think I would still be at work if I was covered in feces pieces? I DON'T THINK SO!)

As the water rushed above my head, just inches from my nose, I smelled it. IT. Poop. Crap. Doo Doo. HUMAN WASTE. I might as well have had my head IN the toilet. It smelled that bad. I was momentarily frozen in shock, the smell penetrating my unassuming nostrils and up into my eyeballs before I flew down the stairs and away from the offending odor.

Five minutes later, new pens in hand, I ran back up to my office taking two stairs at a time. (Who knew if the smell was still lingering? I didn't want to find out!) I'm still really grossed out.

I knew I shouldn't have ventured out of the office today.

The nose always knows.

Remember what I said about B.O.? I wasn't kidding. I was walking down the hall at work a minute ago and suddenly walked into a wall of stink.

The offending party was nowhere to be found, which means they're lurking around here somewhere spreading the smell.

I'm not leaving my desk unless absoultely necessary.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

What's in a name?

I've gotten a lot of questions about the name of the blog. Here's my explaination:

The way I see it, every day is made up of a whole bunch of moments and all these moments make up our lives.

So, these little moments are what make up my life.


The customer is always right. Right?

Jen and I decided to take advantage of this beautiful day and walk into town to explore Main Street. Yes, I've lived down the road for over a year and she's lived in the area her whole life. We just like to take our time, ok?

We checked out all the antique shops, jewelry and clothing stores and the got ambitious and decided to walk the bike path. Armed with our yummy fruit smoothies and decked out in our (almost matching!) cute outfits, we headed down the path for a relaxing walk. We ended up walking to the next village and checking out the vintage clothing shop.

As soon as we walked into the cluttered room I was cornered by the owner wearing a turquoise vintage (read: tacky) dress.

"You know, ordinarily that wouldn't be allowed in the store," she said, eyeing my smoothie with disdain.

I apologized and offered to put it outside, which she agreed to with a sneer. I didn't see any sign saying no food or drink, but I didn't want to be rude.

We dug through the rows full of mostly crap and wove our way around the cluttered floor. Jen found a beautiful sari that she could use as a bed throw and asked the woman how much it was.

"I'll give it to you for forty," she said rudely. "But it's really worth three times that." No other sari was marked nearly that much, but apparently this one was special.

As we finished our browsing another shopper told the owner that the dress she had tried on was nice, but didn't fit her in the skirt.

Hello," the owner sneered. "It's a full skirt!"

The girl politely put down her things and left.

The store wasn't even that nice. You would think that the woman would be at least polite to the customers to make up for it!

I don't think I'll be going back.

Friday, August 11, 2006

10 Things you may (or may not) know about me....but you totally should

1. I'm really weird about smelling things. Shredded cheese in a bag, for example. If it's been in the fridge for a couple days and I want to use it I will have to find Michael and make him smell it. If he's not home, no cheese for me. This used to be quite the issue when I lived with the ladies of 38 BP in college. I think it gets on people's nerves.

2. In relation to #1, I am deeply offended by B.O. I must have a super-sensitive nose because I swear I can smell it from across a room, down the aisle of the grocery store, through the walls of a dressing room....and when I say offended, I mean offended. I just don't understand how someone can't smell their own B.O. (For further reference, I call it Bo, as in Little Bo Peep.

3. I wasn't kidding about the shoe thing. I have a problem. It started innocently enough with a few here or there. It's gotten to the point where almost every shopping trip results in a pair. Not to say they're not fabulous. THEY ARE. I am a firm believer that you can dress up any outfit with the right pair of shoes. When Michael was away in Georgia for a month I bought five pairs. Five. In a month. I'm running out of places to put them.

4. I looooooove my friends. While most of them are spread out now throughout New England (and the Tri-State area.. I love NY forever and ever) I know they are there for me whenever I need them.

5. I am a totally sappy romantic. My mom calls me a mush. I love love. I am so blessed to be loved by so many amazing people. And I love being in love too!

6. I've been in an amazing relationship for over four years. I love you, Michael.

7. I saw Sting last weekend on the beach. For free. You know you're jealous.

8. I think squeezing blackheads is cool. Ditto for when Michael gets a zit on his back. It's like Christmas!

9. My sister and I are complete opposites, but she is the coolest girl in the world. We're seven years apart (she's younger) and used to fight all the time. Now that we're three hours apart I miss her like woah and get so excited every time I see her. She's amazingly talented and unique and no one can make me laugh like she does.

10. I rock at Friends trivia. Val bought me the board game for my birthday one year and no one will play with me because I always win.
In the case that Michael actually read my little rant about the pants, I just want to tell him I'm sorry. I was cranky because my pants were too tight. I wasn't getting enough oxygen.

He does way more than I alluded to in the post. As a matter of fact, he does a crap load of stuff. And he's neater than me. MUCH neater. So while the housework may get put off, it's just as much my fault as his. I couldn't get along without him. Not just around the house, in life. I hope he knows that. So here's my big apology in a public forum

He's the ying to my yang, the peanut butter to my jelly, the ice cream to my sprinkles. You get it.

He's the most kind, intelligent, hardworking, handsome, amazing man I have ever known.

And I love him.


A re-post, because I like this one.

As I'm walking back from dropping off a FedEx package, I come up behind an older couple holding hands.

You know that three-stone diamond anniversary ring commercial with the younger couple walking around the older couple? It was like that, except they weren't that old. Probably in their 60s.

The couple is walking slowly, they're laughing and smiling. He even stops to pick her a flower. The whole time they never let go of each other's hands.

I know that in reality, they could be a new couple. (I mean what the hell, my grandfather just remarried at 80!) They both could have had lives before each other. Spouses, children, etc.

But I'd like to think that they've been happily married for 40 years and love each other today just as much, if not more, as they did when they said "I do."

That couple made me happy.

Thursday, August 10, 2006


Seen driving home from work:

A red Chevy 4x4 with a beat up cap. "Just Married" written all over the windows. White ballooons filling up the cab.

This truck's got big balls" bumper sticker on the tailgate.

Sounds like quite the catch.

Pants. Uncomfy.

Michael did the laundry the other day. And as much as I appreciate the fact that he washed my clothes, he put everything in the dryer. Every.Thing.

So now my super cute Limited copped ankle pants are just a touch too tight. I thought they would loosen up during the day and everything was going well until I ate lunch.
Now that my stomach has expanded after shoving the last of the peach in my face (mmmmmm peach) I'm very uncomfortable. If I wasn't at work I would totally unbutton my pants.

So lesson learned. I should actually utilize the pretty pink double laundry basket (which Michael as banished to the basement) and seperate my clothes into "Dry" and "Don't Dry." Preferably with BIG signs distinguishing the two. That way I can be assured he won't shrink any more of my pants.

I casually mentioned to him that even though I really appreciated him doing the laundry, perhaps from now on any pants other than jeans should be automatically hung up. He was receptive and I think he got it. I don't want to push it too far. I mean, who doesn't like having their laundry done?

I guess it's inevitable really. I bug him to do more around the house. Dishes, vacuuming, laundry. (This is totally what my mother complained about for years.) And he finally does it (without being asked!) and I get small pants.

Maybe I can "accidently" use some of his fire department tee-shirts as cleaning rags. :)

UPDATE: I just unbuttoned my pants and pulled my shirt over the top. Heaven.


I'm taking the plunge and starting up a real blog.

"What? A blog? You're so cliche. Everyone has a blog now."

I know, but who doesn't want to read my daily thoughts and rants? You know you do.

I'll post my last one from the dreaded Myspace and then you can all start reading them here.

Faithful friends, please read. And comment!