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Feeling guilty

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I have feelings of guilt.  Not about anything huge, and they’re not overwhelming feelings of guilt, and when I list them here, no one who may be affected is allowed to feel guilt of their own.  I mean it.

  1. I may not have spent every minute I was at work today concentrating on work.
  2. I’m not reading my book.  Right this second.  I mean, I could be reading.  Why am I not?  Guilt.
  3. I haven’t made solid (or any) Thanksgiving plans.
  4. I’m probably (most likely) not spending Thanksgiving with family.
  5. It looks like I won’t see Mom and Dad again until sometime next year.  The rest of the family?  Hopefully in May.
  6. There are certain friends of ours who have a baby boy who we have met only TWICE in his short adorable life.
  7. We have other friends who have had their second child and are moving to Vermont, and we only know these things because John happened to google them and found their blog.
  8. I eat too much.
  9. I don’t exercise enough.
  10. I don’t play with the dogs enough.
  11. I didn’t volunteer my time to help with the midterm elections.
  12. I don’t carpool.

Enough.  Guilt sucks.

I voted!

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I got up extra early this morning to vote (I had to go to DC, so early was already non-negotiable).  It was FREEZING this morning, and I wasn’t dressed for it (I’m not ready for winter), so I was trying to get inside the high school as quickly as possible.  Of course, the volunteers (all wearing coats and scarves) wanted to chat.  One guy said he was campaigning for the Republican guy, and promised me a flyer with his name on it when I come back out ’cause he’ll running for something soon.  I don’t remember what – I tuned him out when he told me who he was campaigning for.  And isn’t he not allowed to campaign for anyone that close to the school?  Anyway, I was nice to him because, you know, I’m nice like that, and then another volunteer asked me if I wanted a sample Democratic ballot to take with me.  I was really cold and in a hurry, so I said no, thanks, I know who I’m voting for.

I’m afraid I may have misled those nice volunteers into thinking I voted for Republicans.  Was nice to the Republican guy – check.  Was possibly a little short with the other guy and refused a sample Democratic ballot – check.  I hate being misrepresented, even by myself.

I voted for the Democrats, I swear!

Now I have to hunker down and finish my book.  It’s very important that I finish it tonight because I have a book to re-read before I can read the one I bought today.

Sanity has been restored

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President Obama's house in the fall

John and I took a rare field trip into DC this Saturday for the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear.  With one of John’s best friends from high school and his girlfriend, we drove into town (after running from the metro – ridiculously long lines), found parking easily, and walked down to the National Mall.  We joined the crowds heading in the direction of the stage and walked until we could walk no more.  Seriously, there was no room to move forward.  We were packed in like sardines, four blocks away from the stage, unable to see or hear much.  Except for the signs.  So that’s what I took pictures of.

Signs I Enjoyed (for any number of reasons) While Standing for Four Hours (Until My Face Got Sunburnt and My Legs and Feet Started to Hurt) Wedged In Among Wonderfully Nice and Sane People at the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear

This is the kind of Republican I can get behind. (Get it? I crack myself up.)

That pink sign I didn't take a very good picture of says "I was told there would be cherry blossoms," which is only funny if you know that the Cherry Blossom Festival this year wasn't timed quite right. It got warm a little too soon, so the trees blossomed a little too early, and then there was a big wind and rainstorm, so that by the weekend of the festival there was not a blossom in sight. But anything that takes that much explanation isn't really funny. Except to me.

Makes me want to dance.

I think "Everything will probably be OK" should be on the $5 bill.

Peoples is peoples.

Why can't people hold still when I'm taking a picture? "I can promote my opinion without misrepresenting people who disagree with me." Also, there's a scary Sarah Palin mask.

Possibly my favorite sign, considering the size of the crowd.

Two more good ones, but my favorites are the handmade ones.

Small detour - I couldn't help but stare at the mini-Snookie in front of me.

Maybe my actual favorite sign

Did I mention that we couldn't see anything? These guys had a solution.

Crazy Brave Guy had the best seat in the house.

Yay for funny signs!

A little Les Miz, anyone?  Someone handed Crazy Brave Guy a banner.

Okay, time for crowd shots.  The estimates for attendance are between 215,000 and 250,000, and I think those are low numbers.

Looking down 7th Street towards the mall

Dr. Horrible (he has a PhD in Horribleness) wouldn't hold still for me.

Can you see the stage or even a screen? I can't.

Don't look now - there's someone behind me.

I’m pictured out.

I give. Just not to you.

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We ALWAYS use caller ID.  Always.  And I never pick up the phone when it says Unknown Name, Unknown Number.  I used to.  I was curious.  But then I learned that Mr. and Mrs. Unknown are ALWAYS asking for money.  So I stopped answering the phone.  Until this morning.  Why?  I got curious again, I guess.  And guess what?  Mrs. Unknown was asking for money.  Of course.  Maybe I needed a refresher.  This one oughta keep me for a year or so.

Totally unrelated: I LOVE Rhapsody in Blue.  If I had to choose one piece of music to have on a loop in my head for the rest of my life, I think it would be that one.  I heard it this morning and danced around the first floor to it.  Interpretive dance.  The dogs think know I’m nuts.

We hear each other – we just don’t listen

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Conversation before dinner tonight:

John: “It’s going to be a reboot.”

Me: “Okay.  So it’s a reboot…”

John: “A reboot.  It’s when they retell the origin story.”

Me: “I know what a reboot is.”

John: “Then why did you ask “what’s a reboot?””

Me: “I didn’t.  I said, “It’s a reboot.””

John: “That’s what she said.”

Okay, John didn’t really say that last part.  In case you were wondering, we were talking about the new Superman movie.  The fact that  it’s a reboot is the only thing I know about it.  That, and it isn’t out yet.  And the guy who played Superman in the last movie isn’t going to be in it.  And the guy who directed Watchmen is directing it.  (I think.)  So I know four things about it.  And now you do, too.

You’re welcome.

Reboot looks and sounds ridiculous to me now.  Like I can’t spell (or say) robot.  Like the Jack In the Box commercial where the scary guy with the giant ping pong ball for a head can’t say chipotle and his mouth turns to a squiggly line.  (Chipotoplay always makes me laugh.)

I was afraid to eat there, but I liked the commercial.

One of the lions may talk a little

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I met a nutty lady in the parking lot at Wegman’s today.  She locked her keys in the car and asked me if I had a hanger so she could try to unlock the door.  That wasn’t the nutty part.  It was a little, maybe.  She was parked only two spaces away, and she saw me when I came out of the store (I noticed her then, but didn’t realize she was locked out.), but she didn’t ask for help until I’d started the car and put it in reverse.  Then she knocked on my window and scared the crap out of me.  Why not ask while I was putting the groceries in the trunk or returning the cart to the corral?  Anyway, when I didn’t have a hanger, she asked if she could try my keys.

Excuse me?

That might have made a tiny bit of sense if our cars were made by the same company, but hers wasn’t a Hyundai, so…how is that supposed to work exactly?

She TOOK my keys out of my hand (I certainly don’t remember giving them to her) and tried to break my car key off in her lock.  That’s what I assumed, anyway, based on the amount of force she was using to get the thing to turn.  Her friend (there was a friend) kept telling her it wouldn’t work.  It didn’t.

I got my keys back and suggested they call their insurance company.  Then I backed away slowly (sudden movements might startle the crazy lady) and got in my car to make my getaway.

Lesson: Don’t help people?  No…  Always keep a wire hanger in the car?  Maybe.  Don’t let loony ladies take your keys!  That’s the one.

My titles are often not relevant

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Or pertinent.  I like that word.  I should use it more often.  I’m failing at the go-to-bed-earlier game.  Again.  As a result, this post, like these sentences (but not this one in particular), will be short.

With all the talk of loud neighbors, this made me laugh.

Goal for tomorrow: manage my time so I can read and write and be asleep half an hour ago.  (That would be impressive.)

In walks a guy with a faraway look in his eyes

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I had PLANS. And these PLANS, they involved going to bed an hour ago, because these PLANS of mine were all about not being totally exhausted when the alarm goes off tomorrow morning so I have a chance of getting out of bed within the first snooze.

I failed.  It’s now an hour later, I’m exhausted just looking at the clock, and can’t I pretty please wake up tomorrow to find that some old geezer

wonderful old person

generous anonymous donor has given us 486 million dollars because we’re so cute?  Nice?  Deserving?  Just because?  Oh, the plans I have for all that money…

Secrets to do

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I drove home today behind the most cautious lane-changer in the world.  We were in the right lane of three, and about a mile before it ends, the guy put his turn signal on.  And then nothing.  Cars went by, lots of space between them, and the guy didn’t move.  I did.  And then, eventually, he merged into my lane, still in front of me.  Didn’t turn off his turn signal, though.  Still blinking, but now he’s cruising in my lane again.  The left lane is WIDE open, nobody in it, and his turn signal is still blinking.  We went through another intersection.  Still blinking.  Finally, after the left lane had been clear for at least three minutes, he moves over.  I have NO idea what was going through this guy’s head.  I have no idea why this is still bugging me, almost four hours after it happened.  At least he used his turn signal.

Why I Want to Move

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Reason #24: From our bedroom, I can hear every conversation the neighbors have when they’re out on the sidewalk saying goodbye to their guests at the end of the night.  I can hear the guy across the street whistle for his dog.  He’s whistling that distinctive whistle people who can whistle whistle when they’re calling their dogs in from the yard.  You know which whistle I’m talking about.  (Whistle.)  I can hear the car door close when my early-rising neighbor goes off to work at god-awful-early-in-the-morning.

Point?  I don’t want to live this close to my neighbors.  I like the idea of neighbors, I like having them, I like knowing them, and I kinda wish I knew some of them better.  But I don’t want to hear them when I’m inside.

Can they hear me?  Can they hear the TV or the music I was playing when I picked up this afternoon?  Don’t invade my privacy, neighbors.  And get off my lawn!

Whistle.

What’s with today today?

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  1. I’m allergic to work.  Like the physical building, not the work itself.  I got in this morning and my head exploded.  I felt fine (not achy or sick or anything), but I couldn’t stop sneezing, my eyes wouldn’t stop watering, and my head stuffed up.  I left around one to go home and take Benadryl, and as soon as I got in the car, I dried up.  Just like that.  I didn’t take anything when I got home, and I’ve been fine since then.  We’ll see what happens tomorrow.
  2. The dogs stole a tupperware lid out of the sink.  Did they chew on it?  No.  They just stole it.  They must do it for the thrill ’cause they never eat what they steal, even when it’s food.
  3. I slammed the very tip of my finger in the car door.  Hurt SO much.  I shouted some not nice words and then called my mommy.  Not to shout not nice things at her, though.  She distracted me long enough for the pain to fade.  Thanks, Mom.
  4. John is on the phone with his dad, and I think he’s forgotten that we haven’t had birthday cake yet.  (It’s his birthday.  We had pancakes for dinner.  Can’t complain.)  We’re not having birthday cake, but he doesn’t know that.  (I didn’t buy him a cake.  Or make him one.  Yes, I know how.  Out of a box.  🙂  Not the point.  I got a mini peanut butter cream pie for him.  Which we may or may not eat tonight.)

Time for pie!  Gotta go.

Remiss

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I could tell you a cute dog story, but I’ve been talking about them a lot lately.

I could talk about what’s going on at work, but I don’t want to dooce myself.

I could go on and on about how tired I am, but that’s boring.

I bore myself.

Sometimes.

Other times, I crack myself up.  We all know I’m easily amused (I LOVE the sound the Roku makes when you make a selection.  DEE-doop.), so it’s not very hard.

John drew a picture of a house on the fridge whiteboard.  There was a sign in front of the house that said, “Stay away, fool!”  Name that song and win a free tote bag.

Car stuff

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We’ve gone through a lot of car-related trauma lately.  A month or so ago we had the issue with John’s car not starting sometimes (resolved), and then John had a run-in with a parking garage while leaving work on Thursday.  There was a concrete pillar at the front left corner of the spot, and he was paying close attention to it as he backed out.  He got clear of it, turned the wheel, and CRUNCHED his front left fender into the other concrete pillar, the one at the back left corner of the spot.  There’s a big dent just in front of the wheel well on the driver’s side.  We’re taking it in for an estimate tomorrow morning.

My car is mostly fine, but during my last safety inspection, the guy pointed out that my brakes were on their way out.  This was in May.  John is good with cars, likes working on them, and has replaced brake pads and rotors on several of our cars (among many other, more impressive things, like transmissions), so we finally set the date and decided to do it this weekend.  The front ones, anyway.  That’s what he’s been doing most of the day.  It’s never as easy as we think it’s going to be, but that aside, it’s always worth NOT paying nearly $1000 to have someone else do it.  This job cost us a little over $100 and an afternoon.  And while John worked on the car, I spend a few very pleasant hours on the front steps with my laptop.  I mowed the lawn, front and back, and then I stayed nearby to hand him a tool here, apply a little pressure there, here a rag, there a wrench, everywhere a breaker bar.  The first wheel gave him a little trouble (took over two hours), but, true to form, the second one took less than one hour.  John’s cleaning up, and I’m about to test the brakes.

You may ask why, if John’s so good with car stuff, he’s not fixing the rather large dent in his car himself.  My answer: that’s what insurance is for.

I don’t get barefoot running

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This morning I saw a guy running in those weird barefoot running shoes.  The guy looked super uncomfortable and sort of like a duck.  Flat-footed.  Or like he was wearing flippers.  (Flippers?  Those things scuba divers wear on their feet are flippers, right?)

You know, these things.

Googling…Vibram Five Fingers shoes.  They look ridiculous and uncomfortable, and while I understand the idea behind the whole back-to-nature thing, I’m totally okay with the engineering that brought me my running shoes.  While I was googling these, I found a bunch of websites about running barefoot for real, no shoes at all, with or without toes.  (With or without toes on the shoes, I mean.  The people running barefoot have toes.  I assume.  Maybe some of them don’t.  I shouldn’t make that assumption.)  CRAZY.  Hot pavement, rocks, broken glass, HARD pavement – not for me.  If I could arrange to do all my running on nicely mowed grassy lawns, I might consider doing it barefoot.  Anything else?  No way.

Don’t rush me, sonny

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I don’t like deadlines.  I’ll admit that they’re necessary, and if I didn’t have deadlines I’d never do anything I didn’t want to do.  There are lots of things I do want to do that would never get done, either.  They’re important, deadlines.  But they make me nervous.  Anxious.  Not like before, but I’d rather not have any anxiety at all.  I suppose it comes with responsibility.  And I know myself; if I didn’t have work deadlines to worry about, I’d find something else.

But let’s not worry right now, okay?  Now is for relaxing.  Now is for winding down, for reading this book I haven’t been spending enough time with, for breathing deeply and counting backwards on clocks and other things that Greg said in yesterday’s comments.  We’ve been watching Weeds (we’re in season 2), and the theme song is on a loop in my head (there’s always something).  Maybe I can meditate to “Little Boxes”.

Deep breaths.

Blind meditation – great name for a band!

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Good news!  My eyesight hardly deteriorated at all over the last year.  Most of the issues I’d been noticing (eyelashes aside) seem to have been due to a not-so-great fitting left contact lens.  So, you know, yay for not going blind as quickly as I thought.

I bet you’re wondering what song is stuck in my head tonight.  I knew you were.  It’s Stevie Wonder’s “I Wish”.  Great song.  Not so good for winding down, though, or meditating.  Not that I’m meditating.  But maybe I should try it.  Might like it.  I only ever think about it at night, in bed, and when I try it (without reading anything about it – I just go for the whole breathe-deep-and-empty-your-mind thing, not that I’m ever successful with the empty mind thing, but I think it’s close enough if I concentrate on one thing instead of twenty), I fall asleep.  If the point is to relax, I guess it works.

Meditation and yoga.  There.  Two things I’d like to try.  Someday.