Saturday, September 26, 2009

Time Does Fly

As indicated by my last post, there was a girl, a clock and a window. The end result being a vacuum called time. This blog started as insight into my life in St. Louis. Today's post will be a lame attempt at catching up what's been clogged in said vacuum.

I have turned in my crown and sash. My self~awarded title of queen of the domestically challenged has been revoked. The fast food workers and dry cleaners held a protest of any thought of me retaining such a position. Noodles and Company had to review their inventory and revenue once they stopped receiving my money 3-5 times a week. I now have to buy hangers due to my lack of using the dry cleaner to launder my clothes.

Anyone who knows me, knows that dinner for me usually consisted of anything I could take out of a box and throw into the oven. A quick trip to Trader Joe's or the BGO was the preparation my recipes required. Cheese and crackers for dinner, even easier. Enter Matt, "the boyfriend" and "the boys". I now make things from scratch, search for recipes and even know that the meat tenderizer is not easily substituted with a rubber mallet covered in plastic wrap.

There has been a meatball incident. Cue boyfriend's parents over for dinner of homemade meatballs and pasta. Shopping list made, battled the aisles of the grocery store, rolled the meatballs and put into the oven. Society would have you believe that meatballs now come from the sky however, I'm still waiting! Meatballs fully cooked ~ check. Taste test by the boyfriend ~ check. Two-thumbs up ~ check. Enter the evil kitchen fairies who never educated Vanessa on the ability of a meatball to dry out in an oven set to 200 degrees to stay warm. Obviously, I had mistimed the pasta and needed the meatballs to stay warm. If by stay warm I really meant turn them into little round hockey pucks then we would have been right on task.

On said grocery store trip, I asked the boyfriend if one jar of sauce was enough for dinner. Those damn kitchen fairies have not taught me the idea of homemade sauce yet. Against my better judgement I listened to the suggestion offered and left the store with one jar of sauce. What is worse than a dried out meatball? A dried out meatball when sauce is limited. Bless his parents and the makers of Tums, they did eat dinner. However, stretching the sauce and having the hostess end up with buttered noodles for dinner is not very Martha Stewart~esque.

What pisses me off is the self~awarded domestic disability is not automatically replaced with cooking diva or domestic engineering goddess. Now I'm left in the middle of the pack scratching and clawing through the car pick-up line and slipping in word choices and using 4-letter words, are heard and advertised by all children! They may not hear you call them for dinner or to do their homework but one mumbled 4- letter word is heard like a siren!

I figure the only chance I stand for a new title is put all my efforts into one category. Since this contest doesn't have a swimsuit category, I'm going for coupon princess. I have developed an obsession with saving the most money at the register. This is not as easy as it sounds. I have to politely point out to the non-smiling lady behind the register coupons that didn't scan. Then we have to do the song and dance portion of the category, yes...yes I really did buy and fulfill the terms of said coupon. I don't know why your register isn't accepting it. The research portion of going through the receipt and possibly the bag of groceries is the home stretch. I am victorious as she punches in my $0.50 discount!

Grocery shopping, lunch packing, sock matching, homework helping, recipe searching and meal cooking is my daily life. Those of you that haven't chocked reading these changes, will be happy to know that blogging about laundry can be interesting dammit! Now you can look forward to stories of a trip to the Dollar Store that a 7 year-old referred to as intense.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Why Did the Girl Throw the Clock Out the Window?

Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!!! I just managed to delete an entire post by copying a fuckin' Medicaid link into my composing space. Now I am not entertained! I know everyone will be on the edge of their seats at the nail-biting question above as work on an attitude adjustment!

Monday, May 19, 2008

For Jenn in the City

“The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure , the process is its own reward.”

~Amelia Earhart

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Best Line Ever

Josh use to work in a not so upscale sales establishment where everyone identified their "products" of choice by their own lingo. See if you can figure this one out...

I'll have a pistol and a pack of what I is!!!

Did you get it yet?

A pistol = Colt 45
A pack of what I is = a pack of Kools

Gotta love it!

Blues, Salsa and Chinese Acrobats

Have I mentioned life in Vanessa's St. Louis world is nothing short of splendid and one of those lives I thought only other people had. It is hard to pick one moment from this weekend as I literally feel like I've been on vacation all weekend! I don't even know that I can pull sarcasm into the picture...who am I kidding; there is always sarcasm to be had.

Of course my weekend o' fun began with breaking said boys heart (see previous post). I am sure a rapid and sure recovery will be had.

Let's start with the evening of the 4" inch heels. Now, we all know how I love to wear fabulous shoes. Well a spontaneous night of fun doesn't always coordinate well with the shoes. A part of 4 inch heels looked great as I "wore" my jeans (as it was point out to me that night) into Jazz at the Bistro to see one Ms. Kim Massie. What an amazing voice. She can sing Ella like I've never heard (www. You have to see the woman in person to fully understand -- the facial expressions acting out each song.

Fabulous Amy and I stepped outside of the Bistro both not ready to pack it in and as Amy pointed out my "rack" looked great and it would be a waste to go home. My said ample bust for the night continued to be a theme between Amy and me. I have a good 3 inches on Amy with my feel flat on the ground. Add 4 inches and let's just say it is a good thing that she thought my rack looked great because she was eye-level with it all night.

Here comes the reason my chiropractor would shoot me. Throwing caution to the wind Amy and decided we owned St. Louis this weekend. Neither one of us knowing how, decided Salsa dancing was in order. Why I thought my feet would stand this pure form of torture I'll never know. Walking into Dante’s, the first oddity is the guy to girl ratio. There is like 10 guys literally to every girl. Now if we were going to a raining men, gay stripper bar this ratio would have made sense. We both ended up looking as white as we were but had a blast and just had to remember it's all in the hips!!! Top the evening off with waffles covered in hot fudge and ice cream at Uncle Bill's and you've got one heck of an evening.

Enter Saturday. I wandered off to the Missouri Botanical Gardens to enjoy the first non-rain day in some 2 weeks. The Missouri Botanical Gardens is one of the largest and longest running in the United States. They also were having Chinese Culture days and celebrating their Chinese Garden. Full on Chinese Acrobats and full on contortion of small children throwing straw hats was a highlight of the afternoon.

After soaking up the sun, it was time for a night out. I actually busted out a dress. While that may not see odd for a girl, it is odd for this girl. Dolled up, in a dress and MAC Velveteen Red lipstick we headed to Brandt's on Delmar (, quickly becoming one of my favorite parts of town. Meeting Cassey and Josh and listening to the Sydney Street Jazz Trio is good times. I quickly pointed out upon reapplication of said red lipstick, that exact tube of lipstick out lasted my marriage.

In true Thelma and Louise fashion the closing of Brandt's at midnight did not coordinate with our bad girl side! We strolled Delmar looking for some healthy fun and wandered into the Delmar Lounge. One of the bars open in the Loop until 3AM. We sat at the bar and contemplated the meaning of life (as any good bar patron does at 1AM) and laughed until our sides hurt. This particular evening ended in true, unscriptable fashion.

Stepping outside on the street, I asked this extremely tall gentleman if he had a light. Later finding out extremely tall = 6'7". His reply to this was I smoke pot but I don't smoke cigarettes. Alrighty then. Amy and I kindly pointed out that you still need fire to smoke pot. Ah, yes the quick retort -- but not in a bar. After chatting for a moment and exchanging hellos and an original do you come here often, the retort of said tall man was he owned the establishment. The 3 of us chatted, art, jazz, politics and lord knows what else until the sun was breaking and the birds annoyingly chirping. The annoyance comes when you lay your head on a pillow and it is all you can hear.

Here we are Sunday morning...correction going to bed at 6AM means that when I got out of bed the classification was not morning. But it was coffee, eggs, ragtime albums and laughs.
I have done it...Vanessa Got her groove back!

Friday, May 16, 2008

Rejection a.k.a Why I LOVE My Roommate

So here is WHY I LOVE my roommate (no not in that way...get your minds out of the gutter). I am having problems telling J. that I am interested. So here is how FABULOUS Amy has proposed I communicate this to said boy!!!

This is the actual email (with full name removed) I just received at work. Needless to say my co-workers think I've made that last step over the edge!

Too true, rejecting people = not fun... so to help ease your unpleasant task... I've included some stock "let down" lines for your viewing pleasure (and possible use):

1. "J, I... uh... I may have failed to inform you that I have been diagnosed with split personality disorder. Vanessa didn't take into account that this weekend is Sheena's scheduled weekend, and she has other plans. Vanessa will catch up with you next week."

2. "J., I'd love to get together with you, but unfortunately my IBS is flaring up and I'd rather spare you the unpleasantness that entails."

3. "J.... the thing is... well... this just isn't working for me. Thanks for playing and better luck next time."

And lastly, a poem.

For J-dog

No one likes to be rejected
But sometimes life can be unkind
I hope you won't be too affected
When I point out you're unrefined

Thursday, May 8, 2008


So this morning I get the pleasure of reading Jenn's blog. She is truly an amazing writer fostering a talent the rest of the world needs to experience. Said blog, is full of wonderful stories about Saint Rob whom she met on match. Funny she should mention that because one of my catch-up blogs was going to be about my recent gaggle of first dates. *read -- first dates*

Many of you are familiar with the date that is now doing 2 years in prison for real estate fraud. However, this is no longer my best story to come out of match. Moving to a new city can be intimating and finding new friends let alone a date can be a full-time job. Well, thankfully Fabulous Amy has helped in the friends department. Being another single, fun-loving female in her 30s, I am not sure she is going to be so willing to share the men -- hence the, albeit brief, return of my match profile.

There is an extensive song and dance associated with the match world that I will leave for another post. After chatting on and off line with a man that approached me on match, we decided on coffee -- harmless enough, public place and lots of exits. We chatted for a good couple of hours. About half way through the evening I sensed this wasn't really a match but the conversation was friendly enough. He seemed taken back by my candor -- I know...shocking!

After discussing the fact that I was probably too straightforward, etc. My world continued to move along at lightening pace -- art exhibits, Irish Pub band, little out of the way coffee shops. No second thoughts really on the dating scene as I had decided my time was better spent getting to know my new city.

I get a phone call that weekend from the coffee date. He wants to tell me he thinks I am grand -- of course, who doesn't? He also explained that he did check out 1/2 way through the date because there were some things about his life he wasn't comfortable discussing in public. I understood, not all of us air our dirty laundry on Front Street. He called to tell me what that "something" was and we could go from there.

My tendency is to be very open-minded and not searching for my soul-mate, I figured what was the harm in chatting about it. Then came the silence, and then came the "something". I am still not sure I was ready to hear..."I am a cross-dresser". Huh? Wait? Rinse and repeat. (Casey, wipe the coffee off the computer screen).

Now I am not thoughtless or careless and I understand everyone has there "thing". However, when you start talking gender reassignment, etc. with a stranger I have to wonder. I did fail to see the possible benefit of shoe sharing, as it was pointed out to me, but for now I think I’ll stick to my own wardrobe.

Needless to say, this only sealed the deal that I am taking the summer off dating!