Today is going to be a weird one

I slept with my contacts in last night.  I feel like that doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day.  I dreamed I had to make pancakes at school, and I was going to be graded both on how good they were AND what terms I was able to get for the mortgage I got for them.  I was worried because I was the last in the class during the taste test and my pancakes were going to be cold.  I was not worried about the mortgage.  While I was waiting for my turn, I found out that the entire school was out of coffee and I had to drink ice water, which I promptly spilled on my slippers – because I was wearing slippers at school – so I had to go barefoot.

To recap: I slept with my contacts in and then had a weird restless night with weird restless dreams.  Oh, and we’re basically in the path of totality for today’s eclipse.  If you don’t hear from me again, it’s because our alien overlords took me away under cover of darkness, decided I was too stupid to keep (since I can’t remember to take my contacts out at night), and left me to wander in the wilderness.

Ups and downs

Tuesday night (4th of July) we were up past eleven, watching fireworks from a footbridge over the Willamette River a couple of blocks from our house.  Sounds great, right?  Like one of those experiences we’re all supposed to savor.  Eh.  The fireworks were totally not worth it – uninspired, no music, blocked by trees, washed out by the lights on the bridge and in the park.  Sorry, Eugene, but your fireworks game is weak.

Tonight, two days later, I’m ready to climb into bed at 10 after 8.  The sun hasn’t set yet, and it’s a beautiful night, but I’m so. crazy. tired.  I bet Margaret and Erik will be able to hear me snoring all the way in California.

Life with me is a real roller coaster ride, people.  Better hang on.

Some blathering

I gave myself a papercut just below the nail on my middle finger while wrapping a present.  That’ll teach me to buy presents for people.

Why would I say “I gave myself” the papercut?  I got a papercut.  The vindictive wrapping paper gave me the papercut.  It was revenge for the scissors use.

Inanimate objects around here have agendas.  I have to be on alert.

I have posters and things to hang on walls.  We’re moving in less than three months.  Seems silly to hang things up now.  Might do it anyway.  Just not today.

Bump in the night

It’s hard to see in the dark: a true story.

The light switch for the stairs is at the top of the stairs.  The door to our bedroom is not by the stairs.  The door to our room is closed because it’s the only room with A/C.

Tonight, just a few minutes ago, I stood at the top of the stairs, hand on the light switch, eyes locked on the doorknob.  I turned off the light and walked the four steps to the door with my hand reaching out for the doorknob.

I missed.  I didn’t miss the door – I found the door with my forehead, bending forward to find the doorknob.  I’m pretty sure the doorknob moved out of the way.

Disposable Income

I finally figured out the level of rich I’m aiming for.  I don’t need a big house or fancy cars, but I want a staff.  I’ll pay them well, of course – I want them to be happy and comfortable, too.

  • I want a personal shopper/stylist/tailor.  One person who can do it all or three people or whatever – the end result is a closet full of tailored clothes that look great on me.  If the person also does hair and make-up, bonus.
  • I want a personal trainer/nutritionist to help me with my workouts and my diet.  Help me be healthy!
  • I want a personal chef.  I don’t like to cook (or shop for groceries), and someone is going to have to prepare the nutritious meals my nutritionist says I should eat.

All of those titles start with “personal”.  Maybe that goes without saying when my premise is that I have a staff of people to help me out.

John reminded me that I also want a gardener. YES!  I want a gardener.  And of course, this staff would be OURS not mine.  Of course.  I can share.

Giggles

I heard Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” on the radio today.  I’ve always liked the song (video at the end, if you need it), but since that one Friends episode, I can’t help but laugh when he does his signature vocal move.

I like the way she laughs at him.

Also, I’m totally jealous of his eyebrow raise. I can’t do that.

Here’s the song.  If you’re familiar with it, you know what I’m talking about.  If you’re not, he does it on the chorus, first time at 0:52 in the video.

There isn’t an ocean too deep

Today was a good day for a bike ride.  One that I am out of shape for.  (My butt is not too crazy about me right now, and my legs only stopped burning 20 minutes ago.)

John had an idea of where he wanted to go, so I said, “I will follow you,” out loud, to his back as we took off, and for the next half hour, I had Little Peggy March’s “I Will Follow Him” in my head.  I didn’t have headphones, I didn’t even have my phone, and we were going too fast to chat.  I had only my brain to save me, and oh, brain, you failed.  Little Peggy March faded to Sister Act, back to Tiny Peg, back to Whoopi not measuring up to her choir, and all the while, I was resisting the urge to be the crazy person pedaling madly after a man, singing “He is my destiny!” at the top of my lungs.

Ghosts begone!

Despite what I said yesterday, I think our house might be haunted.  Remember the mysterious cracked glass from last summer?

I still don’t know how it cracked in a nearly perfect horizontal circle like that while sitting in the cabinet.

Last night, I was drying dishes and putting them away, and I noticed that John’s favorite giant glass, the one he uses when he makes iced coffee, was standing up in the cabinet but had completely cracked in two, vertically.

What is happening?  Should I be worried?  Do we have tricksy creatures sneaking around at night?

Definitely not real

I don’t believe in ghosts.  Ghost stories and scary movies scare me (The Sixth Sense freaked me the hell out), but I don’t actually believe in ghosts.  That didn’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat tonight when I saw a pale face lit by a ghostly light in the parking lot near my car.  Half a second later I realized it was a kid looking at a phone, sitting on the curb, wearing a black sweatshirt – his head was totally floating in the dark.  Adrenaline rush: check.  Ghost: nope.

What’s the opposite of “check”?  Do you say “no check”?  Do you say nothing and let the silence tell the person you’re reporting to that you cannot check that item off the list?  Do you get all formal and say “I cannot check this item off the list because it is not complete or does not apply”?  On TV, it’s usually silence, but is there an actual correct answer?  I don’t know how to google that.

I am a problem solver

I’m pretty sure I have complained about the breakfast place that is within easy walking distance from our house and is really good but has TERRIBLE coffee, but I can’t find the post.  I’ll complain about it now.  There’s a really good breakfast place within easy walking distance from our house, but it has TERRIBLE coffee.  It’s not about how they’re brewing it.  We really don’t like the beans or the roast or whatever it is about a specific kind of coffee that makes it taste a certain way.  (Their Bloody Mary is also bad.)

It’s a real bummer since it keeps us from going there all that often.  Today we decided to go anyway, and I have solved the terrible coffee problem!  They also serve chai lattes, and THOSE are DAMN good.  Yay for not screwing up a drink they’re buying premade from somewhere and heating up for me!

When WebMD just doesn’t cut it

The back of my head, at the base, has been sensitive to the touch in one spot for a few days.  I haven’t fallen or smacked my head on the wall or a low ceiling or a car recently (I have to say “recently” – those are all things I have done in the last year).  Not that I remember, anyway.

I guess this is the beginning of the end.  The aliens that burrowed into my brain and have been hiding for years are close to breaking out.  Although why they’d choose to come out the back of my head instead of through my ears or nose like any self-respecting gross killer parasite, I don’t know.  I’m expecting an explosion of bone and brain so, you know, keep your distance if you want to remain unspattered.  I wouldn’t want to be responsible for ruining your favorite outfit.

Two surprises

Something happened to me that has never happened to me before in Eugene, and has only rarely happened to me in other places we’ve lived.

I saw someone I know out in the wild.

And on top of that, she came over to me first!  My facial person was just leaving the dog park, and she saw me stretching, so she came over to say hi.  And I met her dog.  I’ve said this before, but I almost NEVER run into people I know when I’m just out, and in a year, I’ve never seen anyone I know in Eugene.  I suppose that could be because I hardly know anyone in Eugene, so the odds are against it.  But it was nice!  And only mildly awkward!

So that was surprise #1.  Surprise #2 was this gadget I saw on my way home, one whose inventor was BRILLIANT and should win prizes.

Look, Ma, no training wheels!  The dad was riding slowly ahead on his bike, the little kid was teetering along on his, and the mom was walking behind the kid, ready to grab the handle (which she did a couple of times).

I never liked training wheels.  Too unsteady.  And this is way handier than grabbing the back of the seat, right?  So yeah, I am overcome by the brilliance of this simple idea.

Piece of cake

I was a literal child, and I am a literal adult.*  When my Dove Promise wrapper tells me to build a bridge with chocolate, I immediately wonder what would happen on a hot day when the chocolate starts to melt.  That’s the image that comes to mind even as my brain interprets the message correctly.  And then my brain smacks me on the nose and says, “IT’S A METAPHORICAL BRIDGE.”  It’s a sickness, and it happens to me several times a week.

  1. Read something.
  2. See literal image of the thing.
  3. Correctly interpret the metaphor.
  4. Smack for being idiotic.

It’s quick and all internal (usually), which saves me a lot of embarrassment, but it makes the widespread misuse of the word “literally” a real problem for me.  I don’t have to argue the case against using “literally” when you mean “figuratively” here.  I know you all agree with me.  I don’t know if you always imagine whatever the figurative thing is as a literal thing when someone says something like, “My brain literally exploded.”

You probably do, right?  I’m not alone in this?  I’m sure I’m not alone in this.  I’ll admit to other oddball tendencies, but this is a universal thing among the grammatically correct.  Yes?  Yes.

*In keeping with the theme, I can’t help but point out that yes, I literally was a child, and now I’m literally an adult.  I’m itching to change that sentence.

Putting the fun in chores! Or something less stupid.

The only way I know of to make doing the dishes fun is to play loud music and sing along.  Dancing is optional, but encouraged.  Drunkenness is encouraged but not always practical and often not necessary.  We do a lot of dishes now that we’ve downsized our kitchen.  We run out of clean dishes to use before we have enough dirty ones to fill the dishwasher, so we rarely use it.  We never used the one in Annapolis, and we’ve used the one here once.  We didn’t use the one in the apartment in Ashburn, either, so that’s….one dishwasher cycle in two years.  Because wow – two years next week is when we moved out of our house.

Anyway, dishes.  I prefer to wash than to dry, and I don’t mind the washing because really, how hard is it to wash two plates, two forks, and two glasses?  Plus music.  Music makes the world go round!

I haven’t met any singing mice. Yet.

The wildlife in Oregon is straight out of a cartoon.  John and I both get distracted by squirrels peering in our office windows during the day, that damn turkey keeps showing up on our front porch like it wants to come in, and today I saw a gray squirrel and fat red robin having a conversation on top of a tree stump in the park.  I wasn’t fast enough to get a picture.  I saw them, they looked at me, I swear I heard “Cheese it, it’s the fuzz!”, and then the squirrel scampered off.  The robin stuck around and gave me the evil eye as I ran past.  Maybe slightly more Adult Swim than Disney Channel.

Me and the Flash

Today was a really good day for a run, and I took full advantage.  It was my first run in a week (last week’s concert and travel plans got in the way), and even though I ran the same distance (3.7 miles – I’m slowly getting my distance back up) as last Monday, today I ran it SO much faster.  I can identify four things that were different today:

  1. The weather was PERFECT: mid to upper 50s and overcast.  Last week was pretty cold.  Right about 55 degrees is my favorite temperature for running.  I would have been happy with some sunshine, but it wasn’t necessary.
  2. I had two cups of Yorkshire tea before my run, so I was fully caffeinated.  I usually run in the mid-afternoon, long after any caffeine I’ve had has worn off.
  3. I was wearing my new sports bra.
  4. I was wearing my favorite running pants.

Honestly, I think the bra and pants are what made the difference.  Of course, then I went on a nearly 5-mile walk with John and OH MY GOD I ACHE.  What the hell?  We were walking.  I feel old.