A little (or a lot) on the girly side

If I may say so myself (and you just watch while I do), I looked super-cute today.  I’ve already changed into schlubby clothes,  though, so no pictures.  I didn’t think about it.  I wore a white cap sleeve blouse with tiny black polka dots over a straight black knit skirt and peep-toe black heels.  Love the outfit, and I felt really good in it.  Except for the sleeves.  I like cap sleeves (and I always thought they were capped sleeves, but Google tells me I’m wrong), I think they’re cute, but because of where the edge of the sleeve hit the top of my arm, I spent the entire day thinking my bra straps were falling down.  And then, because I got used to that, I didn’t notice when my bra straps actually did fall down.  So that was a little annoying.  I also might need new bras.  Let’s go shopping!  No, that’s next week.  For serious.  I have a shopping date planned.

Falafel and I are taking a break

I’m always disappointed by falafel.  I get it every once in a while, but I never end up happy about it.  Today’s lunch was a falafel, hummus, and cucumber wrap.  Should have been delicious.  It sure sounds like something I would like.  But it was so very BORING.  Part of the problem may have been that there wasn’t any actual hummus in the wrap.  It was more like a hummus-flavored watery mayo.  The other part of the problem was that the falafel was only so-so.  I’m not trying to say that all falafel is boring.  I’m very willing to concede that I’ve never had really good falafel.  I certainly hope that’s the case.  Knowing that there is good falafel out there in the world gives me strength.  Or hope.  Or something.  But I think I’m done with falafel until someone I trust gives me a recommendation.

Also, the nice man who makes my salad at Panera recognizes me and waves when I walk in the door.  It’s time to start grocery shopping again.

Can you believe it’s almost October? What the hell is that about?

I took Riley with me on my run the other morning – huh.  Feels like several days ago, but it must have been just yesterday morning.  It’s only Tuesday.  Shoot me.  Anyway, a deer got really close to us.  I think he wanted to play.  It was cute, but Riley was a little freaked out.  The deer was following us down the trail, and Riley kept checking it out over his shoulder, ears pinned back.  It eventually ran ahead of us, and he calmed down, but it made for a very exciting morning.

We don’t get out much.  Actually, part of why I’ve been MIA is because I did get out over the weekend.  Went home to visit Mom and Dad and Corey and Mindy and Mark and Gaby and Candy.  Watched a gaggle of six-year-olds play soccer, found that I’m a natural at soccer myself (when one of those six-year-olds is the goalie), picnicked by the lake, played catch, flew a kite, got sunburned, went for a run – and that was all on Saturday.  It was a whirlwind weekend, but I got to see everyone (for not long enough, but it was better than not going).

And now it’s the work week, the last week of the fiscal year, when everyone freaks out, and I have to go to DC every day.  Here’s hoping next week is better.

I’m sorry

Kind of?  I mean, I’m definitely sorry, but not so much that I’m posting more than this tonight.  Because I’m tired.  And it’s late, or getting there.

Is it better to have a post that doesn’t say anything (and shouldn’t really count) or just to not update the blog until I have something to say?  I have stuff, actually, but not the time to devote to it.  Let’s try again tomorrow.

Did you know…

…that if I don’t drink coffee/tea/something with caffeine in it on the mornings I drive to DC that I will be struggling to stay awake by the time I get to the GW Parkway?

…that Riley doesn’t like it when John plays his guitar?  He gets all nervous and whiny.

…that we’re putting off watching the 2nd season of Sherlock so we’ll still have it look forward to?

…and that we’re doing the same thing with Doctor Who because of how freakin’ long we have to wait between seasons?  We’re two episodes into season 6 and afraid to watch any more.

…that we haven’t watched the Downton Abbey Christmas episode yet because it seemed weird to watch it when it’s nowhere near Christmastime?

…that once I start thinking about TV I really like I apparently can’t stop?

…that Roxy can tell time and is nudging me because she knows it’s time for her medicine?

I’d better stop before I reveal too much. I’ve gotta keep some secrets.

If you can’t say something interesting, you should just shut up. Too bad I can’t take my own advice.

I have nothing to say tonight.  Is that okay?  When this happens, I should probably stay off the blog, but I don’t have that kind of control.

Instead of babbling, I’ll leave you with a couple of videos.  The first is about little green army men with British accents.  I can’t embed it (well, I probably could but it would take too much effort right now), so you’ll just have to trust me and click on the link. It’s funny.

The second video is the first episode of Written By a Kid, a web series created by the Geek and Sundry people.  These guys find a little kid and ask him/her to tell them a story.  Then they animate it and show it over the voice of the kid telling the story.  Super cute.

Now I can’t decide if I want to watch more Geek and Sundry videos or read my book. What is wrong with me?

I don’t want to do anything

You know, it’s been a fun weekend, but I need another weekend to recover from it.  Friday night was the concert, and it was nearly 2am before we went to bed.  Six hours later, I was awake because I still had stuff to do in the house before John’s dad and sister showed up.  Then John and his dad spent the day replacing a column on the porch, and Emily and I went wine-tasting and got pedicures (which was a very nice way to spend the afternoon – I highly recommend it), and then we picked up sushi for dinner.  And then we sat at the damn table until 1:30 last night because we are incapable of shutting up and going to bed.  So now?  I’m exhausted.  I’m sacked out on the couch when I should be at the grocery store or out on my bike or walking the dogs or doing something productive…  It’s taking everything I’ve got just to keep my eyes open.

Not a life-changing experience

I already knew this, but now that I’ve been to a concert, I feel the need to say it again: Bruce Springsteen is not for me.  John and I went to the Springsteen concert in DC on Friday night.  Wait – I need to back up.  A few years back, John went to his first Bruce concert with a few friends of ours who are rabid fans.  I mean, these guys know every song he’s ever recorded, have all the albums, always go to concerts when Springsteen is on tour.  That stuff doesn’t make them rabid fans.  No, they go to as many concerts on each tour that they can manage, sometimes traveling miles and miles to go to back to back shows in three different cities.  Friday’s concert was the sixth show our buddy Joe has gone to on this tour alone.  On top of that, they know the set lists of practically every concert he’s ever played ever.  It’s not unusual to have a conversation with one of them that goes like this:

Hey, I kinda like song X from that one album.

Yeah, that’s a great song, but you won’t hear that when we go to this concert.  He hasn’t played that one live since the Evanston show of 1993.  Now THAT was a great show.

Anyway, John was just a casual fan before he went to that show (he’s more than that now, but hasn’t reach rabid levels of fandom yet) .  These guys (and every Springsteen fan I’ve talked to since) told him he HAS to go to a live show, it’s AWESOME, it’s an experience you’ll never get anywhere else – it’s just amazing.  So John went, and it was great.  He had a really good time, it was a really great show, and he started paying more attention to the Boss.  That’s fine – doesn’t bother me one bit.  He went to a couple more shows over the next couple of years, and I had to suffer through a little more Springsteen in the house, but that’s not that big a deal.  Then this tour started, and the guys got together and decided to all go.  John really wanted me to get in on this, and I’d been hearing how great these shows are, so I agreed and we bought two tickets.

I have to admit to not being all that excited as the date approached.  I love live music, and I knew I’d have a good time, but I didn’t prep for it.  I know a handful of songs (“Glory Days”, “Born in the USA”, “Dancing in the Dark”), and I recognize a few more but don’t know more than a couple lines from them (“Born to Run”, “Thunder Road”), but that’s it.  Frankly, I don’t really like his stuff, so prepping didn’t sound appealing at all.  Why listen to more of what I don’t like?  I was counting on the LIVE aspect of the show to be more entertaining than his depressing and repetitive songs.

Ultimately?  It was fun, but I’m in no hurry to go again.  It was loud and crowded (both in a good way) and energetic and everything, and all of that is cool and fun to watch, but it was still Bruce Springsteen, and you know what?  I still don’t like Bruce Springsteen.  Well, personally, I’m sure he’s a fun guy.  I don’t like his songs.  When the band did some covers (“Devil in a Blue Dress”, “Twist and Shout”) at the end of the almost four-hour concert, I thought it was great.  Did it change concert-going for me forever?  No.  No, it did not.

Because it’s Friday

Oh, how I want this dress.

(More pictures.)

And I want to be a princess.  And I want a pony.  And world peace.  I can’t have any of that, but I can have funny cat videos. It’s one of my inalienable rights as an internet user.

Also, if you have 4 minutes to spare, watch this. Jimmy Steward wrote a poem, and I cried.

I need to just let it go

I think I’m going to save all my vacation time so I can take the entire month of September off next year.  The weather is perfect, the sky is this beautiful September blue, and I can’t enjoy any of it because I am STRESSED OUT.  Like, to the max.  Totally.  Roxy is sharing my stress because Riley stole her toy filled with peanut butter.  She got most of the peanut butter out before he took it, so I’m not really sure what she’s complaining about.  Still, it’s nice to have someone else around as stressed as I am.

Why I don’t like purses

Purses collect trash.  All kinds of junk.  And I only carry mine to and from work.  I can’t imagine what it might look like if I carried it everywhere I went.  I cleaned out my purse Sunday afternoon.  Receipts accounted for most of the crap I pulled out of its three compartments, but there were a bunch of random business cards and a couple of (smashed) granola bars in there, too.  Judging by the dates on some of the receipts, the last time I cleaned out my purse was about a year and a half ago.  I have no idea how long the granola bars were in there.

This is a picture of the bag of trash I filled.  The apple is next to it for perspective.  I emptied my purse out completely, vacuumed it out, and only put the essentials back in.  My bag is a couple pounds lighter today.  My shoulders thank me.  Now if only I could convince work to get me a lighter laptop.  That’s the bag that’s going to turn me into a hunchback.  I guess I could get a wheelie laptop bag…

Update: I think that bag of trash might be bigger than my purse.  How is that possible?  Wait – could my purse be bigger on the inside?  Just did a quick search, and oh my god, I want this.  Or maybe this.  But probably the first one.  While I’m at it, I also want these, and one of theseEtsy is cool.

Update x2: By popular demand, here is a picture of my purse with the same apple next to it.  I think that might be a small apple, because my purse looks huge next to it.  It’s really not that big.  It’s divided into three equal compartments, and all the trash was in two of them.

It’s book club night!

Tonight we will discuss Before I Go to Sleep, which I enjoyed.  I’m sure we’ll only spend about ten minutes talking about the book and the rest of the time chatting about schools and kids and teaching at schools and teaching kids.  (Every single person there (except for me) is either a teacher, a mom, or both.)  Not that I mind.  They’re not boring.  Here’s the only scary thing about tonight: they put me on the rotation.  That means that in a few short months, I will have to host the book club.  I’ll need to pick a book (I’ll accept suggestions!), but that’s not so scary.  This is: all of these women (who live in very large, very nice houses) will be in MY little house.  And they will be judging me.  I know they won’t be mean (certainly not to my face, and possibly not at all – they seem very nice), but still.  Having a large group of strangers (practically) in my house is not anything like having a large group of friends over.  So I’m a little nervous.  Several months in advance.

Wiped out

I went for a long-ass bike ride this evening and hey, ass was a good word to bring up because mine is not happy with me.  My wrists, shoulders, and upper back aren’t too pleased, either.  I’m thinking long-ass (almost 13 miles) may have been a little ambitious for me, since this is not my sport.  Also, my bike doesn’t look anything like the bikes serious cyclists ride.  And there are a LOT of those around here.  We’ll just see if I can walk tomorrow.  Oh, and I have a headache.  I think I should just go to bed.

A model that Lance Armstrong rode at some point


My little Schwinn that I bought at Target. Not in the same league.  But I love it and I want a headlight and a basket.

Why yes, I would like some cheese

No memory problems today.  That I’m aware of.  Just a growing sense of annoyance that I have to work.  Don’t throw things – I know I’m whining.  Today wasn’t even a bad day.  My meetings went fine, I got some stuff done, and I did it all from the dining room table.  I spent the first part of the morning in my workout clothes (with my post-workout sweaty smell), and then I showered and spent the rest of the day in my clean yoga clothes (because it’s Wednesday).  Why bother putting regular clothes on when the next time I leave the house it’ll be to go to the gym for yoga?

Can I be a little bit annoyed at how dark it is at 8pm already?  When did that happen?  Now I need to get a headlight or something for my bike.  I was invisible on my way home from yoga a few minutes ago.  Heh.  Yoga makes me invisible.  Cool.  Until I get hit by a car.  Not cool.

Maybe I’m overwhelmed

I think I’m forgetting things more often lately.  Or having more frequent airhead moments.  I’m not sure if this is something I should be worrying about or not.  Is it really happening more?  Or am I just noticing it more?  Yesterday’s example is fairly mundane.  I was making a list on my phone for groceries.  While upstairs, I remembered that I needed to get Listerine, Zyrtec, and contact solution.  I repeated those three things to myself on my way down the stairs and added them to my list.  No problem.  I got to the store and made it to the right section.  Picked up the Listerine.  Thought to myself, “I’ll go down the aisle this way, turn the corner for the Zyrtec, and then come around the other end for the contact solution.”  Then I checked off all three items on my list.  Before I picked up the other two.  Why?  I don’t know – to save time?  Couldn’t tell you.  I got the Zyrtec and then headed to the other end of the store (in search of peanut butter and cereal, if you must know.  Turns out the peanut butter has moved into the coffee aisle.  I’m not crazy about the new look at my Wegmans.).  I got home, put everything away, and went about the rest of the day.  Then bedtime came around, and it was time to take my contacts out.  THAT’S when I noticed I didn’t buy any contact solution, and THAT’S when I remembered crossing it off my list and then NOT picking it up.  Ridiculous, but not really worrisome by itself.

A few weeks ago, I went to pick up dinner.  This place typically gives us bread and their really good, really garlicky, olive oil and parmesan dip, whether we ask for it or not.  John had specifically requested it, so I when I got in the car, I checked the bag.  More specifically, I leaned over the big paper bag, reached in, pulled out the little bag with the bread, looked at the two salads we’d ordered, and thought, “Hmm.  I guess they didn’t give us any bread.”  My left hand moved to put the bread bag back in with the salads, and I stopped, looked at the bag in my hand and said, “Holy shit.  I’m losing my mind.”  I can’t believe I did that.

Wanna know the punchline?  Those are only two examples, and while I know I’ve done other similar things, I can’t remember the details.

It’s not that kind of holiday

Today didn’t turn out quite like I thought it would.  We were out late last night (we met Emily at her new place for dinner), so we slept late this morning, dawdled about breakfast, and kinda puttered around all day.  It’s been a nice day, don’t get me wrong, but I kinda had plans for it that I never put into action.

I did go to Wegmans, though, so I was able to do something productive.  Actual grocery shopping that resulted in real healthy food at home will certainly help us eat right this week.  But it’s not going to keep us from having nachos for dinner.  Because we’re stupid.

Now I have to decide something really important.  For the second time today, since I finished Little Brother last night and read Coraline this afternoon.  What am I going to read next?