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I’m staying home again today, resting. Needed. I’ve spent nearly two hours this morning online, catching up on Dooce archives. (I haven’t been on her website for what seems like – and might actually be – a year.) Now? I feel guilty. Like I should have spent that time doing something else. What? I don’t know. How is this not resting? Apparently, I should be more productive when I’m resting. I suppose I could be learning something (French, MinutePhysics, Khan Academy), or I could be reading my book (I’m re-reading The Book Thief so it’s fresh when I see the movie – not always the smartest move, but I can’t help myself), or – hey! – I could be updating the book list on this very website, and maybe I will do those things today, but first I need to convince myself that two hours staring vacantly at someone else’s old blog posts isn’t wasted time.
I’m happy that it’s fall. I like the leaves turning, and I like the weather (or I would if it felt like fall, but maybe that’ll happen this week finally). I’ve picked up my running again recently (I’d been slacking off a lot), and since I go so early, it’s really dark when I start and still mostly dark when I get back. Sometimes I take a flashlight, but I usually just compensate by sticking to the mostly well-lit sidewalks and paths on the main streets outside my neighborhood. I’m not running on a road, so I won’t get hit by a car, and I’m near enough to all those people going to work crazy early in the morning that if I started screaming, I would probably be noticed. I feel safe enough, but the dark is still a little creepy. And it doesn’t help that I listen to Welcome to Night Vale every morning. Welcome to Night Vale is not at all actually scary, but when all you hear is Cecil’s voice in the dark for the duration of every single run…it’s just about eerily perfect. Makes it weird to listen to it at any other time of day. Did you watch Eureka? Night Vale is like the town of Eureka at midnight on Halloween. (Thank you, Randy!)
I blame my MIA-ness on overscheduling myself this summer. I have stuff going on most weeknights and almost every weekend, and work has been crazy so when I have an evening free, I mostly just crash. (We’ve been watching a lot of Buffy.) My Thursday nights just opened back up, though, since my tap class got canceled. Very sad. I only got to go to the one class. They say it’ll be offered again in the fall. I’m hopeful. I would like to use the tap shoes I bought.
My MIA-ness extends itself to the internet, so I was just catching up with The Bloggess, and I followed one of her links to this fabulous idea for a website. I have a bookshelves full of books I want to read, and I usually can’t decide what I feel like next. This will probably help me, although I have a book club book that I have to read next. I’ll use it after that one. I know John has this problem pretty much every time he finishes a book, so What Should I Read Next? should be very helpful.
I was listening to the radio in the car the other day, and I heard a commercial for the National Association of Realtors. Except they didn’t say it that way. Not the way I say realtor. Not the way anyone I know says realtor. You know, like realter. Kind of. Anyway, no. The guy on the radio announcing the official name of the organization over and over again pronounced it real-tor. Over and over again. Tor. Like the rock formation. Or the publishing company. I assume that’s how it’s pronounced. Tor. Like or. Four. Bore. Core. If tor is pronounced “ter”, then I’m just going to keep saying it the wrong way ’cause that’s ridiculous. But when it’s at the end of a word? And that word is realtor? Please. Real-tor. As if there are fake tors out there somewhere.
Sorry about yesterday. This week was kind of odd. Busy odd. Like, I can’t remember sitting down and relaxing much odd, even though I know I must have. My brain needs lots of help to get out of work-mode, which is why I’ve been relying on other websites so much. Today will be no different. Thanks to Tom and Lorenzo, let’s talk about Channing Tatum.
I like him okay (I’ve seen him in one movie and a couple of interviews, and he was plenty likeable), but I don’t find him attractive at all. Certainly not HAWT, like so many other women seem to feel. I think it’s his head. And neck. The combination of the two. They’re thesame size. I have the same issue with The Rock and Vin Diesel. It’s a type, and it’s not mine. Channing Tatum, at least in this suit, looks great if you only look from the shoulders down.
I still think he’s a little too body-builder for me. I’m sure John will be relieved to know I’m not going to leave him for Channing Tatum.
THIS is a really good idea. I think I’m going to do it (on my personal cell, anyway), and I think Mom shoulddefinitely do it. Anyone who never listens to their voicemail (which is everyone*) should do it. It’s not as rude as never listening and never calling anyone back because you never listened to the message. So go, change your message, and come back. Go on. I’ll wait.
I forget about this blog for months at a time, but that means I have lots of content to drool over when I remember. Our house could look something like this if we threw out 75% of what we have. And painted everything white. And had better taste. And more money.
*Exception: if you’re job-hunting, DON’T DO THIS. But then, if you’re job-hunting, you don’t belong to this group. You’re probably listening to your voicemail messages.
Going to a one-year-old’s birthday party today took all of the energy I had. I’m home, sitting on the couch, watching Geek & Sundry videos, and I just poured a second glass of wine I don’t particularly like anymore. I think I’m over the Cupcake Sauvignon Blanc, for those keeping track at home. I thought I was over it, then I enjoyed a couple of glasses of it a few weeks ago, and now that I’m finishing the bottle, I’m over it again. And yet I’m still drinking it. It would be wasteful to just throw it out. Right? Also, it would take too much energy to open a different bottle. Also also, the only other bottle chilled right now is super big, and I just don’t think it makes sense to open a super big bottle just for me. Not at the end of a weekend, anyway. Also also also, if I put another bottle in the fridge (or freezer) to chill, I’ll have to wait for it. And I’d have to get up and do it. And have I mentioned that I have no energy? I think I’m going to work on my puzzle.
The bathrooms in our house aren’t all that great. They’re not awful or anything, but they’re not the spectacular bathrooms I would like to have. The downstairs half-bath in the hall is fine (you can’t ask much from a half-bath, and it does its job), but upstairs is a little disappointing. Our master bath doesn’t deserve the name, but there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot we can do about it. I mean, yes, we could replace the vanity and upgrade the shower (and put in a nicer floor), but it’ll still only have a single sink and a walk-in shower with no tub. There’s no room to do anything bigger. We’d have to do MAJOR renovations to the whole upper floor, like add rooms over the garage (which would mean a whole addition to the house), and that’s just not likely with our current plans. The main complaints I have about the other bathroom upstairs (the one I use) are that the bathtub is too small and the water pressure SUCKS.
So naturally, I sometimes find myself daydreaming about the perfect bathroom. A few years ago, we were in Boulder for a work thing, and we stayed at the St. Julien Hotel. That bathroom was incredible. The tub was super long and really deep (I could practically swim in it), and the shower was awesome. I think that bathtub might be my happy place. (Serenity now!)
You’ll have to believe me. The picture doesn’t do it justice.
Why are standard bathtubs so small? According to Wikipedia, average height for women in the US is between 5’4″ and 5’5″ (and you have to be shorter than that to fit comfortably in a regular tub) so the evil bathtub industry clearly has something against baths. Which seems to be contrary to their interests.
Today has been the longest day. At least three different times during the workday (and again just now), I was convinced it was Tuesday night (or possibly Wednesday). That much has happened since I woke up this morning (which, admittedly, was earlier than usual because it’s one of John’s boxing days – more on that later). Actually, not that much happened today that’s of interest to anyone I don’t work with, but it was a super busy day. And I got my year-end bonus. Yay me!
Man! I completely skipped my online morning routine, too. Pause while I check Woot and XKCD. Better, and only 10 hours later than usual for a Monday.
I’m trying to reconnect with whatever feelings of calm I found yesterday while I was getting my nails done. I went to my favorite place, and they were completely empty. I was the only customer and no one seemed to be in the mood to talk (which was fine with me). It was so peaceful, utterly quiet except the god-awful muzak they were playing (which I tuned out as much as possible), and now I have awesomely hot pink toes. However, I also have a rock band playing in my basement (for the first time in months), so peace and quiet are nowhere to be found. Instead, I will play online and watch adorable videos, like this one.
The last two or three days have been lovely and almost warm. Now it’s windy and freakin’ cold. I guess it’s time, but I don’t have to like it. I’m catching up (a little) on the internet today, and I just had to share this. The Bloggess posted it the other day, and it’s just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
Riley is going insane, I’m freezing to death, and I think I just heard “Gangnam Style” coming out of John’s office. The world is ending TONIGHT. Hug your loved ones and duck and cover. (Isn’t that what the Mayans said to do?)
Riley has been one uncontrollable bundle of annoying energy today. If he could focus that energy on keeping me warm, I could handle it, but instead he’s been bouncing off the walls while I sit at my computer and shiver. The thermostat says it’s 67 degrees in here. I don’t see how it could be. I’m so COLD.
[Pause while I wrap myself in a blanket. It's times like these when I wish I had a snuggie. Kind of.]
Just got distracted by Bookshelf Pr0n and Better Book Titles. And my fingers are too cold for typing. So…sure, I’ll publish this disjointed and not very entertaining blog post. Don’t judge me!