|What American accent do you have? (Best version so far)Northern
You have a Northern accent. That could either be the Chicago/Detroit/Cleveland/Buffalo accent (easily recognizable) or the Western New England accent that news networks go for.
Quizzes and Personality Tests
Archive for June, 2007
The other day, for the first time in my life, I laughed until I cried. I might have gotten teary while laughing before, but this time, I literally had tears rolling down my cheeks. All that because of some aside made by a comedian we were watching on Last Comic Standing. It wasn’t even the punchline. He was going on about his friends telling him he needed to make a will and plan for events like being in a coma. The comedian imitated his friends pressuring him to get a living will:
You want to have a tube in your belly don’t you? So you can get snacks? You want to get snacks don’t you? Snacks while you sleep?
This was in the middle of the monologue, but Steve and I were dying. We both simultaneously thought that was absolutely uproarious. Steve hit rewind so that we could hear it again and laugh until we were curled up in fetal positions to protect our stomach muscles. In my case, I was wiping my eyes.
Snacks while you sleep!
That’s one of the things I love about my relationship with Steve. We both instinctively found that hilarious to a degree I don’t think would have been possible with anyone else. And I always love to hear him laugh.
Dear God, it’s going to be hot tomorrow.
We received a recall notice in the mail from the former owners of this house. They said it didn’t match their stuff, so maybe it was for this house. They were right. Apparently our GE dishwasher has a significant risk of catching fire while washing our dishes. Another good reason to buy a house by owner and get to know the people who are selling your house. It might keep your house from burning to the ground.
We went to our local Sears and looked at the dishwashers and figured, hey why not upgrade to one that might actually wash our dishes without melding coagulated bits of food to the plates and bowls? Then we saw some stoves and thought, I guess while we’re here we might as well…
Our current stove is from the 80s. The plates around each burner, once stainless steel, is a blackened, lumpy, crispy layer of charcoaled food. Hopeless to clean, so I’m just waiting for it to blacken and chunken entirely. (Chunken, what a fantastic word. To chunken). Then one day a knob broke off, rendering one of the back burners useless. The knob warped and melted a bit so we can’t get it back on. Then the timer knob snapped right off, so I use a pair of pliers to set the timer.
The oven itself still worked so I figured we’ll just use it until it dies. But then today I see one of those shiny new stoves on sale at Sears with settings that actually tell you when the oven is preheated and you can time how long it will cook any given item at a particular temperature. Instead of the buzzer going BLEHHHHHHHHHHHH and, if I’m the one cooking, Steve looks at me like “Sarah, the timer is going off, move your ass before the food burns” the oven will turn itself off while alerting you that it is doing so. Most likely with a dainty dinging noise instead of BLEHHHHHHHHHH.
Besides, if we don’t get a new one now, when we move, the buyers will probably take one look at the stove and make us buy a new one as a condition for sale of the house. Then we’d have to buy an oven and not even get to have a number of years of good use from it.
Oh, how I rationalize.
So I sat on one of the floor sample patio chairs and dissociated while Steve made the transaction. With the sale and the rebate on the dishwasher, it’s not a bad deal. I just don’t like spending, regardless. But the stove, it will be shiny!
The last three weekends (and next weekend) have all been out of state travels. First Lake George, then back to New York State the next weekend for my parents’ farewell dinner. Hard to believe that at the end of this week, my family officially leaves New York after residing in various parts this state for nearly 30 years.
This past weekend I went to Maine to visit my grandmother. I never fail to experience physical chills when I cross into Maine. In fact, when I drove back into New Hampshire and Vermont, I totally missed both Welcome signs. But there’s no missing it when you cross into Maine. First there is a large sign overhead some miles before, citing I95 TO ALL MAINE POINTS. Then a few miles later, there is another overhead sign I95 TO ALL MAINE POINTS. Then you come around a curve and a steel bridge rises, spanning water and space. Halfway over the bridge is MAINE STATE LINE: VACATIONLAND. Then for the next ten miles you are greeted by various signs saying things like MAINE: THE WAY LIFE SHOULD BE. MAINE: Worth a visit. Worth a lifetime. Also, it should be incumbent upon you to know that Maine has a very tough drunk driving law. Also, buckle your seatbelt. And, turn on your headlights when you use your wipers.
Very exciting. Entering back into other states is a letdown after that really.
My grandmother has a great new house a mile from the beach. She made mouthwatering steaks and salad for dinner, lobster rolls for lunch, breakfast eggs with feta cheese and strips of bacon. She had Rachael Ray beat by about 15 minutes in all instances. I hope someday I can pull off meals like that with such effortless grace.
Next weekend I’ll be on the road with the band. We’ll have to figure out what to do with Lucky (aka Luckles McGee), the never ending licker of feet.