2011

What a year.

Indeed.

Using pictures to sum up 2011 in a nutshell:

2011 started with tons of travel.  And it continued throughout the 12 months.  I hit up Texas twice, Toronto, Boston, Connecticut more times that I can count, Rhode Island, Key West, LA, New Orleans, Denver, NYC.  

My crazy ass also decided to take up running.  Other than traveling, running seemed to dominate my year.  I started with a 5K and finished the racing season off with a half marathon.  Even Mr. G was inspired by my raw running energy (ha) and hopped on a (mountain) bike for a 50 mile race!

I also managed to squeeze in about eleventy trillion weddings and wedding related parties.  It was an honor watching so many of our friends and loved ones be joined in holy matrimony.

(Please ignore the fact that Mr. G wears the exact same thing to every.single.wedding.)

2011 had a rough streak as well, Irene being the highlight.  As a state and a community we were struck hard, but we came together immediately and made incredible progress.  I am so proud of my neighbors, state politicians, and hardworking friends who worked so hard to help bring VT "back to normal".

Being back in New England for a full year, I took full advantage of being within driving distance of so many friends again.  But I also got to reunite with friends from all over.  Praise Jebus.  I love my friend family.

Yes, despite a few bumps in the road, 2011 was a fantastic year.

2012 is shaping up to look even better; I have 3 half marathons to run, plus a triathlon with my man. (Mr. G will be riding another half century, and then a couple months later he will participate in his first 115 mile race.)  Starting next month I will be hitting the road again, I have planned trips to LA, San Diego, San Francisco, Lake Tahoe, Charleston, Louisville, Philly, Denver and hopefully a few days on a beach somewhere.  We have three weddings to attend.  We have friends to get together with again.  We hope to get a new place somewhere and adopt a dog.  

I am so looking forward to all of the promising events that 2012 looks to be bringing. 

But I am not sure how 2011 can be beat.

Happy holidays, everyone.  Enjoy your last week in 2011.

(And with that said, if anyone in the upper valley has suggestions for what I can do for New Years, I am all ears...)

Peace out cub scouts,

Bubbie

Explain to me

How on God's green earth is today only Wednesday?  How in the world is that even possible?

I swear I woke up for Monday a year ago.  How has it only been 3 days?  Is it because I am excited for this weekend that all of a sudden each day has 67 hours in it?

This morning my old faithful alarm went off as usual at 6:30 and I was all like "fuck off, it's got to be Saturday, leave me alone."

And then my internal self was all like, "no, you fuck off.  It is Wednesday, asshole.  Get up and get going."

And then I was all like, "#$!!%&*$&!"

And then I got up, burnt some popcorn (true story.  I make popcorn at 6:30 am most weekday mornings.), braided my bangs back, and here I am.  Smelling like burnt popcorn and blogging.  Thinking, "I must have waisted a few hours already. Must be time for my lunchtime soup."

OH WAIT.

Not even 8:30 am yet.

Even the squirrel thinks it's NUTS that it is only Wednesday!
(sorry about that.  The slow week is taking it's toll on me.)

PS: (C)Happy (C)Hanukkah to my fellow Chosen People.

Napping under my desk,
Bubbie

You know it

This morning for morning snack #2 I had a new brand of low-fat cheese sticks.

It was so delicious.  It was like the heavens opened and angels sang down on me.

What, you didn't know that I love cheese?

That's all for today, 

Granny

Is this a joke?

I thought acne ended with the 9th grade.

Boy oh boy was I wrong.

Growing up, when I had a "breakout" it was one or two pimples at a time.  And it was usually during that time of the month.  Knowwhatimsayin?

Since then I would say I get a lovely pimple or two a month.  That is it.  I am constantly complimented for my great skin and complexion.  Not to brag or anything.

But now, at nearly 27 years of age, instead of having snow for Christmas, I will have a forehead full of pimples.

BAM. 

10 pimples.  

10.

All on my forehead.

This is not a lie. 

(really, I counted them this morning...)

Thank you very much, santa.

I woke up this week with the fucking big dipper constellation above my eyebrows.  You know that small mountain chain in Nepal, the one that Everest is a part of?  The goddamn Himalayas?  Yup, the earth must have shifted, because you can now hike that mountain range here in VT, at the Goodwin residence.  On my dome.  My forehead looks like I have chicken pox.

Just in time for a week of holiday parties.

FML.

Off to hand in my Granny card and resume my old 8th grade status instead,

12-year-old Granny

Shit I Hate, Volume II

So a few weeks ago when I wrote that list of shit that I hated, I got a lot of feedback.  And lord knows, that was not the only shit I hate.  I hate tons of shit.  So I decided volume two of "Shit I hate" was required.

And today you are in luck.

Here I go!

1.  Greek Yogurt.  Vom.it. (The ONE and ONLY exception to this is Chobani peach flavored greek yogurt, with Splenda swirled in.)

2.  Pimples.  I am nearly 27.  What am I doing with an entire forehead of acne?  And you know what is just as bad/if not worse??  Bacne.

3.  Those mother fucking stickers people put on the back of their cars that have stick figure families.  You know the ones.  Extra hate coming your way if there are more than 3 children, if everyone is wearing Disney hats, or if you have a million pets.  Extra-extra hate your way if you are the woman in Lebanon, NH who drives a suburban with this sticker that includes the two perfect parents, 7 kids, four cats, and a matching license plate that says "7kids."

4. Getting chips in my nails (bless you, Gel Manicure.  Me love you long time.)

5. Feminine Napkins.  No explanation needed.

6. My period in general.  Please see previous bullet in list for explanation.

7. Finding crumbs on a counter or table.  CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES, MOTHER FUCKERS.

8. Men in skinny jeans.  Bonus hate if they are gray jeans, you are wearing a v-neck, and also a huge scarf.  Bonus-Bonus hate if there is a fedora or floppy winter hat on your head.

9.  When people confuse "to" and "too," "there" and "their" and "they're," and "your" and "you're."  What I hate even more is people who confuse shit that should not be confusable, such as "are" and "our." 

10. The Twilight movies.  To sum up my hatred, please read THIS.  Go fuck yourself, Bella Swan.

Ok, I think that is the last edition of "Shit I hate."  Anything you care to add to the list?

Love always,

Bubbykins

Hot child in the city

Just got back from a quick weekend away in the Big Apple with my little sister.  Had a fantastic time.  Saw the sights, shopped the shops, ate the food, and in between had some great talks and a fun, relaxing time.

However, there is one thing my sissy poo and I could not agree on.

And that is the city itself.

My sister capital L LOVES living in NYC.  LOVES.  Hates coming home to "small town middle America" where my parents live.

I am quite the opposite.  Give me wide open spaces, fresh air, quiet nights, grass, and minimal cement.  I don't look forward to going to the city, I feel claustrophobic and dirty.

Don't get me wrong, NYC is something that I feel everyone should go see and experience.  There is a totally different culture there (dear sissy poo, please note I said "different" and not "better") and you can get a mani-pedi on just about any block for a steal of a deal.  You can eat Pakistani food for lunch, followed by authentic Chinese for dinner, and then Afghan for a late night snack.  You can go running in a great park and on just one street you can chose between H&M, Sephora, the Gap, Old Navy, Banana, Ann Taylor...


And, of course, my sister lives there.  Reason alone to go.


However...it is not that often in the country that the drunk kid sitting next to you starts puking all over and gets spatter on your shoes.  Or that a cat-sized rat comes and stares you down for 15 minutes while you wait for your train.


No, I think I will stick with my rural setting, where you need to drive 15 minutes to get anywhere (and by anywhere, I do mean nowhere).  I will keep my clean, green, grassy yards, my personal space when I go for a run.  I will take no sidewalks at all over sidewalks covered in trash and spit out gum and cigarette butts.

Like I said, I had a great time in the city for a few days.  But lord, was it good to come home to the country.

Still breathing in the (cold) fresh air,

Granny

Pickle

Y'all remember how I have a strong and burning love for Chic-fil-a?  Because I do.  I look forward to my once yearly mecca to the holy CFA to fill my desire for an original chicken sammich, hold the pickle, side of polynesian sauce for my waffle fries, served with lemonade, thankyouverymuch.

I was even able to ignore their conservative and religious right wing agenda for my once yearly chicken sammich fill.

But now, in December of 2011, my world appears to be crashing down and falling apart.  I am forced to boycott CFA, and it really hurts my feelings, because I really love their original chicken sammies.

Some background...

Other than CFA, I also have a love for kale.  That's right.  The green leafy vegetable.  You know the one--the one that could never, not in ten million years, be confused with chicken.

I have often seen shirts and bags and bumper stickers that say "Eat More Kale!" on them.  And every time I do, I say "I WILL!" and then follow that with "I NEED that bumper sticker."  And then I drive myself over to the closest store and pick up more kale.  Nope, not joking.

Well, it has been brought to my attention that the man behind the "Eat More Kale" slogan is from good ole' Vermont.  And he started using this slogan 11 years ago, when a friend of his asked him to screen print him a Tshirt with the phrase "Eat more kale."  He started a local and eco friendly screen printing company called "Eat More Kale."  11 years have gone by, and now the "eat more kale" slogan is getting more and more popular.  So popular, in fact, that this smart little Vermonter behind the phrase went to go get it trademarked. 

Except that the ever so loved Chic-fil-a is blocking "Eat More Kale" from being a trademarked business.  They want the name changed.  Because they think the phrase "Eat More Kale" is copyrighting their marketing phrase of "Eat Mor Chikin" and that it confuses the CFA customer and they will lose money to "Eat more kale."

WHATTHAMOTHAFUCK??

I shit you not.  CFA is saying that "Eat more____________" (insert your favorite food item, booze, etc, here) is a copyright violation.  And that the CFA customers do not know the difference between a Fried Chicken Sammy RESTAURANT and a t shirt that says "eat more kale."

I want to walk right over to those CFA folks and shake them until they make the right decision.  But instead, I signed a petition that I think you should too; sign the petition telling Chic-fil-a to lay off this local business and to allow "Eat More Kale" to remain as it is.  (That last sentence is the link to the Petition, FYI.) Because as much as I love me some CFA, I love me so kale and some local businesses more.

Thanks!

Bubbie

por que

Sometimes, after looking at all of the other blogs I love to read, I wonder "why do I blog?"

I have also been asked by people who find out that I blog, "What is your blog about?"

Which got me thinking...

I do not have a focused topic that I blog about.  Fashion? Hell no.  I wear shirts with holes in them constantly.  My shoes all have scuff marks.  My jeans are in no way designer. I wear clogs proudly and I almost always prefer sweat pants.  Food? While I love to cook and eat, fuck a food blog.  I love to read them, but never do I ever have the time nor the desire to document and photograph how I cook.  Running?  While I do it, let's face it: I suck at it.  Nobody wants to take advice or listen to a woman who is proud of her ten minute mile pace.

Well, Granny, if you are not blogging about a specific topic, you must have a great and exciting social life to blog about and entertain the masses with?

Wait, what?  No?  No social life what so ever?

This is not an exaggeration.  The only thing I do with my life is this: wake up, work, run, make dinner for Mr. G, watch TV with Mr. G, talk to Mr. G, go to bed.  Repeat daily.  Sometimes we spice it up by going out to eat, seeing a movie, or going shopping.  That is it.  No friends.  No weekly get togethers.  No girls nights, nights out at bars with friends, etc.  Unless people come visit from out of town, the Goodwins legitimately live the lives of hermits.

Ok, well, you must at least have SOMETHING you can give us advice on?  Home ownership?  Child bearing?  Animal Rescue?

No, no, and no.  We live in a crummy two bedroom condo that we rent.  We cannot even hang shit on the walls, lest our landlords evict us.  No children in my near future, as I love sleep, money, and wine too much.  No animals to call our own (please see: uptight landlords).

So really, there is no reason I should have a blog.  Except I do.  And I hope you just enjoyed spending the last 4 minutes of your life reading about why I shouldn't blog.  No, you cannot have that 4 minutes back, it is mine and I cherish it.  

Love,

Boring Bubbie

Fa la la la la

Growing up in the PB household, half Jews and anti-consumerists that we were, Christmas was not celebrated like it was throughout the rest of America.  Sure, we got a tree, put up a few decorations and opened gifts Christmas morning.  But said tree was cut down from the woods behind my aunt's home about 5 days before Christmas.  And those decorations we put up around the house?  A lone candy cane decoration on the front door.  And never have I ever heard either of my parents listen to Christmas music once in their lives.

It wasn't horrible and lord knows I was not deprived.  And growing up, while I always wanted my parents to put an addition onto the house to accommodate a 20 foot tall perfect Christmas tree, I never felt like I was missing anything.  As the years passed by I never gave into the massive consumerism that surrounds this holiday and I always gave the side eye to those people who started decorating for Christmas as soon as Thanksgiving was over.  (This could also have something to do with that little festival of lights that us Chosen People celebrate that falls in between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Why rush Christmas, I still got 8 days of presents anyway!)

Even when I moved out and on my own with my now husband, Mr. G and I would not listen to Christmas music until we put up our tree (and other than that, we listened only to Christmas music on Christmas eve).  And our tree would usually go up one to two weeks before the 25th.  And our decorations for around the house included one candle that my mom regifted to me (she hates scented shit) and a stuffed animal walrus wearing a santa hat.  I still gave people the side eye for being so "in to" Christmas so early.

And then there was last year when I wanted to skip out on Christmas entirely.

But this year, while I STILL side eye those Black Friday shoppers and those who really do turn Christmas into a completely consumerist holiday and forget what it is really about, I think I am starting to make up for lost time.  This year, the Saturday after Thanksgiving I braved the holiday crowds and went a little crazy.  I didn't get everything I wanted, and I have done only minimal gift buying.  But I did buy ribbons, wrapping paper, candles, crafts to make candles, mini glittery christmas trees (2), poinsettias (already killed them, going out for more this weekend), and tons of other little Christmas decorations.  A trip that started out to get a picture frame, some glue (to fix our angel for the top of the tree), and some beef turned into a two and a half hour debacle for me to get decorations.  And then I returned to our home and started decorating.  I dug our boxes out of storage and just went with it.  It was magnificent.  I also stamped and addressed all of the holiday cards we are sending out this week (there are 70 of them.  Goodness gracious).

We still have not allowed ourselves to buy a tree or a wreath or play Christmas music.  It was, after all, not even the same MONTH that Christmas was.

But now, now that it is December, and now that it is no longer near 60 degrees (global warming, what?), I will be going back to the store this weekend to buy more Christmas decorations (poinsettias for starters), start my gift buying, and we will pick up a tree.  And "Little Drummer Boy" will be played on repeat while I clean the house throughout the month.

I am making up for lost time here.

Cheers and happy holidays!

Bubbie

*PS, when my mom heard about my post Thanksgiving-Christmas-inspired shopping binge I got quite the earful.  "I cannot believe you did that!  You are giving into the consumerism!  Stop that!  And now I cannot even come over to your house because you will have so many scented candles that I will not be able to breathe!"