Overheard in the office

Laney LaRue: My boyfriend wanted to take me out tonight to celebrate our nine month anniversary…

Little Miss Westchester: Oooh, 9-months, that’s how long it takes to grow a baby!

Infamous Coworker J

I work with a boy that looks exactly like The Simpson’s infamous "Sideshow Bob."

I mean, what are the chances!?

Not only that, he acts like Sideshow Bob as well. Coworker J has been with the company for less than a year, and all I have ever seen the guy do is lurk around the office and plot in his cubicle. What is he plotting-the kid works in marketing for God’s sake!

Man- I am going to miss this place.

Countdown to VICTORY

As I touched on in my last post, your very own Little Miss Westchester is about to embark upon a European adventure unlike any before seen by the likes of man….

Ok that’s probably an exaggeration.

I am heading to Europe with Peppermint Patty, and I won’t be back for 2 and a half weeks. Not to fear, I am going to TRY to update S.S.R. at least once per country (Italy, Spain, Greece-that’s 3 times baby!)-but in the meantime, I have developed this adorable and informative counter to help you keep track of my trip! You see that little car represents me, Little Miss Westchester, and those little houses represent days....well you get the idea.

Please keep checking back here for those updates!

Much Love,

Little Miss Westchester (Miss Westchester, if you’re nasty)

A public affair

Last night, Hope Valentine, Laney LaRue and several other gals I know hit the town for what is commonly known as a “Ladies Night Out.”

First we all met at this new Milwaukee boutique store “Fred.” While I have never been to Fred before, Laney picked that store because every last Thursday of the month it provides free margaritas, free manicures, and free massages while you shop. Nice, huh.

Well in theory, it’s nice-and you’re probably thinking “Wow, Fred had it all.”

Oh loyal reader, if only that were true.

Like any man (j/k guys), there was one fatal flaw: the store had no air conditioning. And after 5 minutes, I was sweating like a little monkey in the jungle. Besides the obvious discomfort factor, the glaring problem with a hot, circulation-less store (correction: there was one small fan in the back of the store) is that most people, girls especially, feel a little bloated when they are sweaty-and the LAST thing you want to do is try on slinky dresses and cleavage-enhancing tops when you feel like an overcooked sausage. That’s all I am saying. So I didn’t even bother trying anything on, and instead enthusiastically hurried Hope along so we could get the heck out of there.


Next it was on to Centanni’s for martinis and live music.

Overall the evening was a nice distraction, and in a way, a lovely going away party for your’s truly…….

That’s right, for the next 2.5 weeks I will be jet-setting (economy class) around the globe for an all-expenses paid (by me) European vacation with best pal, Peppermint Patty.

Unfortunately, this means that I will not be able to update every day (BOO!); however, my goal is blog at least once every country! (HURRAY!)

White shirt, big problem

Since I arrived at work today I have somehow managed to get red pen AND coffee stains on the front of my white shirt. Meanwhile, I just noticed that there is a blueberry juice stain there as well.

I didn’t even EAT blueberries today.

You know how people are always saying how they want to “age gracefully?” Well I find it very hard to believe that I am EVER going to able to do that, when I can’t seem to do ANYTHING gracefully.

Oh man, I need a backup plan.

Good old-fashioned case of the creepies

There is a VERY scary man who works out at my gym (pictured below).

His name is "Earl" and he can often be seen lurking around my gym’s weight room, and starring at young girls as they work out.

I have grown to really resent "Earl" because I find him outstandingly creepy and very inappropriate. Not only does he walk past my machine a minimum of 3 times a workout-but he will blatantly stare at me for unbearable minutes on end with little regard to social decency. And apparently, I am not the only person who has been affected by this as several other women I have spoken to have been similarly creeped out and annoyed by his behavior.

Up until now, I have responded to "Earl" by fervently ignoring him, subversively flicking him off every time he walks by, and by swearing angrily at him under my breath. However, there is only so much I can take, and I am seriously thinking of just hauling off and...switching gyms.

Oh yes, passive-aggressive revenge is truly mine.

Love actually

I think we can all agree that my birth was one of the BEST things to ever happen to online blogging. Ever. So, in an effort to give credit where credit is due, I would like to acknowledge my parents, who celebrated their 29th wedding anniversary this Sunday.

Their marriage has withstood the many tests of time, and is a constant reminder that true love exists, and is alive and well in Wisconsin.

Thanks for being the best parents a girl could ever hope for. Here’s to 29+ more happy years!

The Birthday Report

This weekend, I celebrated my 26^th birthday with some of my closest friends. I had a great time, and while there was a recognizable difference between the veracity of this year’s celebration, as compared to that of my 22^nd birthday-it was still a complete and utter blast.

On Friday night, Beaker Callahan and I checked out the new Luke Wilson/Uma Thurman movie My Super Ex-Girlfriend. Now, would I agree with Beaker’s synopsis that it was, “the worst movie I ever saw?” Maybe. Going in, I had high hopes for the flick whose premise involved a likeable guy who is forced to breakup with his crazy girlfriend, who also happens to have super powers. Needless to say, the crazy super ex does not take the break up well and goes all out to inflict the Luke Wilson character with some very potent revenge. Ha ha, ha ha. Right.

Watching this crazy chick inflict massive and unnecessarily harsh revenge on an otherwise likeable character was hard to watch. Plus, the acting was bad, the editing sloppy, and the ending was lame. So basically, what I am really trying to say is the movie was not good…at all.

Then on Saturday, I met up with my friends at Wisconsin’s Lakefront Brewery to partake in one of the better brewery tours around. Basically, $5 gets you a tour of the brewery, a kick ass souvenir glass, and four frothy beers. The tour itself is missable-but the beer tasty. So if you are in Wisconsin and looking for a fun little Saturday with the missus, I would highly recommend Lakefront. Next, it was on to Roots for some delicious dining and unbelievable Blueberry, Chocolate Mojitos.

The highlight of the meal came when Laney LaRue’s uncle Vince presented me with this giant present wrapped in silver paper. Trying to mask my utter glee, I tore open the box and giddily dug through the colorful tissue paper inside in a desperate attempt to find my prize. About half way down, I began to doubt that there was anything in the box at all, and paused to tell the group about a similar incident in Westchester family lore-involving a poorly-executed prank on Christmas morning that went horribly array, and left my youngest brother in tears.

After an assurance from Vince that there was indeed something inside, I continued digging until I uncovered a small silver box with a necklace inside. And oh, how we laughed and laughed. Then, after my girlfriends and I posed for some pictures from inside the giant box, we settled up the bill and moved on the Red Light.

5 beers, 3 lemon shots, and 3 Mojitos later, I crawled home and slipped quietly, but not-so gracefully into bed. It had been a long night, and this birthday girl was tuckered out.

As you would imagine, Sunday started slowly. But after a warm breakfast and fun-filled day at the pool with Hope Valentine, I am ready to start another year, slightly older, and maybe, just a little bit wiser.

26 may not be a multiple of my lucky-number 5; however, if it is anything like 25, we are all in for a wonderful treat!

The more the merrier indeed.

Earlier today, one of my guy friends called to wish me a happy birthday and to ask if it was ok if he brought some of his friends along to my birthday celebration this weekend.

I, of course, said something about ‘the more the merrier,’ and asked him who these friends were.

My friend went on to explain that they are his best friends visiting from Colorado; and, heads up; they are professional strippers….professional male strippers.

Happy birthday to me.

It's my party and I'll drink it I want to!

Today is my birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

What would Mrs.Garrett do?

Tomorrow is my birthday, I am turning 26.

This is a pretty exciting milestone as far as I can tell-even though 30 now looms before me like a dull headache or a unwanted pregnancy….ok maybe not like an unwanted pregnancy-but a headache for sure!

People usually say that with age comes wisdom…well at least that is what you would hope for; and while I know that in all likelihood I am probably a lot smarter now than I was in my teens, I am well aware of the fact that the things I don’t know about are far exceeded by the subjects I have mastered (i.e. beer bong construction and lip gloss application). I also know that there are plenty of mistakes that I am going to make down the road-I just pray to God that none of them involve poorly-crafted spandex or an ill-advised stint in a traveling circus.

I think the key in all of this is learning from your mistakes and applying those lessons into future challenges. Here are some life lessons I have picked up over the past 26 years. Of course I had to learn every one of these lessons the hard way-so I hope by talking about them, I will help you avert a personal catastrophe or two.

Lesson 1: Even though it will seem like a good idea at the time, do not, under any circumstances kick your pre-school teacher in the shin. In general, other adults will not take your side nor will they appreciate your general impertinence towards their authority.

Lesson 2: When on a road trip, always remember to check the gas gauge often. Because believe me, the one time you forget you will probably be in the middle of an Indiana cornfield with nothing but your thoughts and a full bladder to keep you company.

Lesson 3: No matter how old you are, or how nice you try to be, there will always be bullies out there trying to get you down. So ignore those people-because karma is a bitch-and they will get there’s. Fuck yeah!

Lesson 4: Nerds are cool, be nice to them; and in ten years when those same nerds are making twice your salary and know the hiring manager maybe they will remember you and help you out.

Lesson 5: “I’m sorry” and “I forgive you” can sometimes be the hardest things to say-but in the end, they are infinitely worth it.

Lesson 6: No one's perfect (you included), so try your best to give people the benefit of the doubt.

The Good Girl

I have always been a very well-behaved, rule-abiding citizen. No detentions, no arrests is my motto (that and ‘modesty is for suckers,’ but for the purpose of this posting, I will stick with the former). I haven’t even had a cavity for gosh-sakes. But there were times growing up where I felt the need to break the rules; and like any kid, I did my part to piss my parent’s off.

Mostly I just mouthed off to my parents or refused to do the chores that I was assigned. I guess you could also say that I had a bit of a temper as well; but a few well-placed sessions with a child psychiatrist put an end to that and quickly turned me into the well-adjusted citizen I am today. Tee hee.

But anyway, if pressed to reflect on my greatest attempts at civil disobedience, I would be remiss not to mention the two instances that I “tried” to run away from home. And I say “tried,” of course, because I was a lazy child and never once made it out of the subdivision. At this point, I can’t even remember what happened to inspire these grand revolts; but anyway, here are brief accounts of my great escapes for your reading enjoyment:

1st Runaway Attempt, “Make like a tree and get out of here”-Age 6

After packing a small 8x13 plastic yellow suitcase with all of the essentials (Barbie Doll, String Cheese, clean underwear), I proceeded to climb the blossom tree in my front yard with the determined resolve to never come down again. Although my sense of purpose was strong, my mom managed to coax me down 15-minutes later with the promise of freshly baked cookies. I chalk this gross failure up to inexperience, and my highly-misguided first-grade sensibilities.

2nd Runaway Attempt, “The Great Suburban Strike of 1990”-Age 10

It was winter, and for some reason my mom pissed me off to the point that I could no longer stand living in the suburbs. So I waited in my room until the rest of my family left the house, before grabbing my coat and an apple and heading out to a snow bank behind my parent’s house. Fast forward one hour: I had already eaten the apple and could no longer feel my ass, so I figured I had bravely made my point and went back inside. Sadly, this valiant attempt at an insurgence went unnoticed, as there was no one in the house when I left or when I returned.

I guess it’s a good thing I have parent’s who love me and that I learned how to properly brush my teeth at an early age.

Wedding bells, they are a ringing!

This weekend I will travel the 5 hours (and unknown mileage) down to Muncie, Indiana to witness the long-awaited nuptials of dear friends Stubby and Natalie. Contrary to popular belief, the road from Wisconsin to Indiana is not paved in gold, nor does it always smell very good (cough, Gary). But it is what it is; and once I pick up Joe Hollywood in Chicago, he will be doing most of the driving anyway, so who am I to complain.

In light of this weekend’s nuptials, I would like to impart my friend Stubby with some solid words of advice from another married man as he steps into his most important job yet: husband.

“You know something, folks, as ridiculous as this sounds, I would rather feel the sweet breath of my beautiful wife on the back of my neck as I sleep, than stuff dollar bills into some stranger's G-string.” Homer Simpson

The happy couple.

Best of luck guys on your life together, I am so glad I was able to be there with you on your very special day!

State of confusion.

No joke, one of my favorite co workers just sent me an e-mail asking if the state of Washington was near Oregon. My reply: Yes.

I also sent her this map, which I thought would make for a helpful visual tool.


I tell ya, it's all in a day's work.

Saved by the Blogger

Hello everyone! I have good news and bad news; and, if you are anything like me, you are going to want the bad news first. The bad news is I don’t have time to blog this week because I am swamped at work and my boss is pissed at me…

The good news is I have enlisted blogging buddy Bruce Dierbeck from Living on the Backside of Twenty to sub in with a guest posting. Bruce is always good for the “guy” perspective on life; and he is single and ready to mingle ladies, so feel free to leave him a comment with your measurements…I mean your bra size… I mean…..well you know what I mean. Enjoy!

***"Saved by the Blogger", by Bruce Dierbeck***

Hello students, I am your substitute blogger, Mr. Dierbeck. But like the time on “Saved By The Bell” where Mr. Belding’s brother substitute taught and wanted to be called by his first name “Rob” instead of Mr. Belding, I would like you all to call me Bruce. I’m from living on the backside of twenty. I‘m sure Little Miss Westchester has written up a fun little intro, explaining why I am your substitute right now, so I won’t bore you with a diatribe about it.

Instead, I will bore you with other diatribes. Many of you, who are regulars here, may not know what’s going on across the street at my blog. But these are among the sorts of observations that meander about in this warped imagination of mine.

Like, why are we wasting our time cloning sheep? If scientists want to fiddle around with the genetic matter of a species, then I say look no further than the ant. As is, these tiny dudes already lift ten to twenty times their weight. Imagine if we lifted the hood and tweaked their DNA engine so they were, oh I don’t know, about the size of a poodle? Think of it. If we yoked up the ant, and created a Super Ant that was no more than forty pounds, we could slap a leash on these buggers and do away with the entire moving business industry. Sure, my dream Moving Company named “Guns For Hire” would be obsolete, but suddenly, you could have poodle-sized ants carrying an entire couch on their back for you! Part pet, part tool: the Swiss Army Knife of species. After all, a forty pound ant could carry potentially 400 to 800 pounds. That’s insane! Heck, if your ant was really the socialite and still spoke with all its friends from High School as well, they could probably get enough of them together to lift and move your entire house, rather than hiring one of those big, slow, megatrucks. But no. Scientists are wasting their time with Dolly. Come on! Priorities! Ooooh, they give us sweaters. Forget the sheep. We’re talking Super Ants!

Oh yeah, but no tweaking those flying ants, though. That could induce mass hysteria if forty pound ants started flying around; that’s too reminiscent of those flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz and remember the number those things did on the Scarecrow. Hell, they treated him the way pre-teen girls treat pillows at a slumber party. Imagine what ‘roided up Flying Ants would do. Yikes! No, we keep our Super Ants land-based for our own Darwinian survivalist reasons.

Something I’ve been wondering for a while “when will the hand dryers in public bathrooms finally blow enough hot hair to actually dry our flippin hands? Wow, this is frustrating” especially in bathrooms where you aren’t even given the choice of paper towel anymore. Those, especially, should give you more than 2.3 seconds of warm air to dry your hands. So then you come out of the bathroom and shake hands upon returning to your friends, and people suddenly lump you into the same class as the guy who pees in the pool. Unfair. How else do they expect to convert people to the air drying method, if they don’t provide us with functioning models? Paper towel, I mourn your eventual demise. You will be missed, my brother.
And finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t drop a little relationship nugget for those of you who may also be on the backside of twenty and relate. Doesn’t it seem like the longer you’re single, the more it’s like Christmas shopping on December 23rd? It just seems like all the good ones are already taken. But don’t be fooled. I’m an optimist, so I like to think the glass of eggnog is half full. After all, there are always the after-Christmas-returns, where you get a chance at those items that weren’t available before the holidays. So buck up, fellow shopper. Sometimes it just takes patience.

Oh, there’s the bell. Class dismissed.

***The End***

CLICK HERE to check out Bruce’s blog, Living on the Backside of Twenty! And please check back later this week for more stories and pictures from the ever-crazy adventures of Milwaukee's own, Little Miss Westchester.

Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler...

I kid you not, I just got an e-mail from a coworker claiming that her stapler was missing and requesting that whoever "took" the stapler would "kindly put it back."


No word yet, as to whether or not it was a red Swingline-but one can only assume.



"But then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it's not okay because if they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire..." (Milton Waddams)

Short Order

Today I went to lunch with good friend and coworker, Laney LaRue at this great little restaurant, Cosi.

If you have not had the chance to eat there before, the restaurant functions as a sort-of high-class McDonald’s where you give your food order at a counter and then wait for them to make it for you. The food is a little pricey, but the salads are delicious, so it is totally worth it.

But anyway-as you may have guessed, there is more to this posting than a Cosi recommendation; because as usual, something sinister happened while I was trying to get my lunch.

The line to order was unusually long today, so I tried to keep busy by talking with Laney and re-reading the menu. So there I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I became keenly aware that someone or someTHING was breathing on my back. Indeed, there was a Code Red violation of my personal space in progress, and it was giving me a serious case of the willies.

Slowly, I turned my body to catch the offender in the act; but there was no one there (creepy). So I shrugged my shoulders and started to turn back around; however, just as I began to move I felt my purse hit something. Quickly I looked back and then down in time to see this little old lady standing DIRECTLY behind me. So close in fact, that she was practically in my shoes.

“Excuse me,” I said as my bag bumped into the top of her wrinkled head, and I slowly tried to step forward and out of this seemingly-harmless old lady’s way. No sooner had I moved forward though that the lady moved with me, and this time, she was even closer than before.

For ten minutes this went on, and every time the line moved that lady moved forward as well. Matching me inch to inch, and centimeter to unbearable centimeter. It got so bad, in fact, that I was beginning to have a panic attack. I mean, WHAT is this crazy little old lady think she was doing? Did she think the line would move faster if she managed to crawl inside my outfit? Or worse, did she think that the man taking orders behind the counter would see her standing behind me and be fooled into taking her order before mine?

And I know what you are thinking, “settle down Westchester, she was harmless.” But I implore you, don’t buy into her game! You see, that is exactly what she WANTS you to believe! In fact, she is probably in some sort of menacing old-lady gang whose weapons consist of hour-long stories that have no discernable point and a distinct moth-ball odor that gets into your clothes and can never be washed clean. And then there are those seemingly-endless supply of crumpled-up/slightly-used tissues endlessly materializing from their sweater sleeves…..come to think of it, she was so close to my bag she could have reached inside of it! I had better check and make sure all of my after dinner mints are still there.

173 days until Christmas...

I realize that I have not updated this bad boy in a few days, and for those of you who have noticed….I am sorry. This week has just been a whirl-wind of fun, activity, food, and drinking-so I guess I just lost track of time and/or was not sure how to sum it all up. But here goes.

Since I spoke with you last I have ridden on boats, watched fireworks, seen some kick ass bands and hung out with some very cool people. Here’s my best attempt at a rundown.

Monday night I headed over to good friend Laney LaRue’s condo for a kick ass 4th of July party on the 3rd of July. Not only did Laney have her usual offering of amazing food, plentiful drinks and fun party guests, but she also let some of us go out on her boat to watch the fireworks from Lake Michigan. Absolutely beautiful.

On Tuesday I hurried over to Hope Valentine’s place in time to join her and her awesome college friends for the day’s Brewer’s game. Not only did we get the chance to see the Brew Crew score a buxom victory over the Cincinnati Reds, but we also got a free bobble head; and as you can imagine, I LOVE bobble heads.

(Here the Milwaukee Brewer's Weiners race during the 7th inning stretch. Until you have seen this race, you have not truly lived.)

After the game I met Petal Personality and Darling Peterson at Summerfest in time to catch Lucky Boys Confusion on the main stage. Petal is good friend with Stubhy, the band’s lead singer, and I had a nice time meeting him and his girlfriend Jillian. Lucky Boys Confusion is on the rise, and I def. recommend checking their music out.

Wednesday was boring because I had to go back to work. BOO!

Thursday has also been boring, but at least it is just one more day closer to Friday-which is my favorite day of the week.

Night Rocker

I have heard that David Hasselhoff is big in Europe; specifically in Germany, the birthplace of other cultural juggernauts such as Lederhosen (the traditional uniform of modern-day Turkish oil wrestlers) and a musical style called "Burger-highlife."

However, in America one would be hard-pressed to find a Hasselhoff fan under the age of 75-or that was living outside the gates of Hasslehoff Manor.

CLICK HERE to catch the Hoff's newest music video for his new tune, "Jump in my Car"; but please keep in mind that I am using the terms "music" and "video" very loosely here so.......

Working

There is only one thing that is cooler than a national holiday on a Tuesday; and that, of course, is having to work on the Monday between the weekend and said holiday.

That’s right; Little Miss Westchester is stuck in the office today with nothing but her thoughts and a few random co-workers to keep me company. Well enough of that, let’s focus on the positives. I had a very nice weekend filled with friends, and maybe (strike that, definitely) one too many Miller Lites.

On Friday, as you may recall, I hosted my very first dinner party; and from the many requests for my squash and zucchini gratin, I would say that the recipe was a smash hit.

Saturday was also filled with fun, as I spent the better part of the afternoon lounging by the pool with Moody St. Claire and her boyfriend, Security Steve. In addition to reading every magazine I own and trying my darn-dest not to burn (apparently SPF 30 and t-shirt are STILL not sufficient coverage to keep me from singeing), I got into a heated conversation with Steve over which of us could swim the farthest underwater. The debate never extended beyond just that; however, as both Steve and I were too lazy to ever get out of our lounge chairs. So for now, our grandiose claims will remain untested, and life will go on as it always does, while just another great mystery remains unsolved.

On Saturday night I met up with new friends Rainbow Brite and Shy Violet at the BBC for some grub, before heading to Summerfest to catch The Gufs with Darling Peterson and Petal Personality. The show went really well (despite the rain) and I had a really nice time.

The highpoint of the weekend came on Sunday when some friends and I went boating on Lake Michigan before catching Nine Inch Nails at (you guessed it) Summerfest. Some might say that this weekend’s combination of friends and fun was unbeatable…but something tells me that there are more adventures in store for your own Little Miss Westchester.

Oh yes, something indeed.