We got up early this morning (5-ish) to run in the fog (which was really cool), and then John drove me to work on his way to spend the day visiting houses he used to live in and old high school haunts. Work was not bad, and the day didn’t go nearly as slow as expected, mainly because I had a very lively class. Lots of good-natured heckling. I’ll take that over a zombie class any day.
Once we got back to Newport (work was in Narragansett – and I’m done for the week! Yay!), we went for a walk, planning on going to the Redwood Library to look around. Got distracted by the giant stone tower thing in Touro Park, and John said he remembered a plaque or sign or something saying it was built by vikings or something, but we couldn’t find the sign. On our way back up to the library, we passed the Newport Tower Museum. We were looking at the pictures and posters in the window, and I noticed a guy on the inside coming towards that window. Before I knew it, he’d bounced outside to come talk to us. It’s his museum, and he’s done research and written books on that tower, all while trying to figure out who really built it. Apparently, there are a bunch of theories, but most don’t hold water (according to him). Anyway, he took us back over to it and pointed out all kinds of interesting things about it. Long story short: he got us interested in it and we’re going to visit his museum tomorrow and let him tell us all the stuff he found out. And probably end up buying his book (or books). It really was cool, and the guy was SO enthusiastic.
After that, though, we decided to put off the Redwood Library until tomorrow, and we headed down to Thames Street to the Brick Alley Pub for dinner. Very good, just like we remembered, and then we walked. And walked. And walked. Just because. It felt like forever, and we both wanted to turn around and head back to our inn, but for some reason we kept going. And when we finally turned around, it felt like we’d never get back. Of course, we did, eventually, and I just mapped it. It was only 2.5 miles. So we’re wimps. It’s not even that late, but we’re both really tired. John says that’s because it’s been 40 hours since we got up this morning. He’s probably right.
Go check out Curiosity. She’s hilarious on the subject of her hearing loss (which I’m very sorry to hear about, but am delighted to read a post about). (Does that make me insensitive?)
It should go without saying, since I link to practically all of her posts, but The Bloggess is one of the funniest people on the Internet. Truly and consistently funny. She made me laugh at almost every sentence of her post today, so, you know, go read. And laugh. I’m going to put my walked-out feet up and go to bed.
We have had the nicest day. We got up a little on the early side, went for a run – that reminds me. I had just started the last mile, I was on my way home, I’d been enjoying my run and the beautiful morning, and then I ran into my old boss. NOT someone I wanted to see. We were fake-polite to each other for a few minutes, but that was long enough to really irritate me and put a damper on the rest of my run. I got over it, though. We took care of the lawn and the weeding, went out to lunch, spent a few minutes browsing in Best Buy, and then we came home and started watching the USA-England World Cup match. We stopped about an hour in to go to the movies (Get Him to the Greek – very funny), and now we’re back and we’re watching the rest of the game. The noise in the stadium is kinda weird. Like it’s a crowd of angry bees, not people. Maybe a swarm of irritated kazoos.
They’re all so cute. Must be a requirement. Part of the tryout. You can run, you can kick, you can do whatever else it is soccer players have to do, and you’re good-looking. You’re in. Have you seen these guys? Particularly Bocanegra (captain of the US team) and Green (goalie for England). Very attractive guys.
There should be a name for the night before you go on a trip. We’ve got Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve, Erev all kinds of things for Jewish holidays, and I think there should be a word for the night before other big events. First Day of School Eve. First Day of New Job Eve. Wedding Eve. And Traveling Eve. Or maybe Trip Eve. With subsets for Vacation Eve and Business Trip Eve. There’s always so much to do, and I think those nights should be recognized. Maybe it’ll catch on.
So I’m traveling tomorrow (I bet you’re totally surprised by that), and I’m not actually doing anything right now to prepare for the trip. Except for laundry. But I feel like I’m always doing laundry. I have everything I need, so I can pack tomorrow and not worry about it for now.
In the meantime, I want to finish my book (it’s a hardcover, and I’d rather not carry it on the plane, but it’s good and I don’t want to start something else yet) and mope around with John for the evening. We’ve decided that’s what we feel like doing. Moping can be fun when you don’t have to do it alone.
Because my boss can be pretty cool sometimes, I didn’t have to go to work today. I had a long long list of things I could/should do, and I had great plans to do them. And then I didn’t. Well, I did a few of them. Actually, I did nine out of nineteen, and to be fair to me, some of those things were meant for later in the weekend. Okay, I did plenty today. But I didn’t run and I didn’t go to the grocery store and I kept my out-of-the-house errands to a minimum because Roxy had a “welcome home” seizure last night before midnight and another one this morning, shortly before noon. She’s fine now, but somewhat groggy (we’re under instructions to give her extra medicine after seizures to help prevent clusters – clearly didn’t work last night – and that makes her woozy), so I thought it would be best if I stayed close to home.
One of the few errands I did run today took me to Home Depot. John needed grass seed, and while I was there, I bought a rosemary plant and an oregano plant ’cause MY FACE POTS WERE DELIVERED! Yay! And I already have a basil plant, so I’ll put all three into my new pots and put them…somewhere…to grow. The deck, maybe? I could put them on a plant stand on the front porch (if I had a plant stand. I think I just added that to my shopping list for the weekend.). I definitely can’t put them anywhere in the yard. The rabbits will get them. Like they’ve already eaten the three (maybe it was four) black-eyed susan plants that came back this year. I need plants rabbits don’t like.
I’m not going to pretend I’m happy to be away from home, but last night and today so far are making it a little easier to bear. I guess I can’t be unbearably depressed and crying all the time. John, can you forgive me? 🙂 If I had my way, this plane would be heading towards home, not Boston. Since it’s not – damn. Ignore the no-crying statement. I’m not crying, exactly, but the song that just started (“(You Don’t Know) How Glad I Am”) brought tears to my eyes. Because I’m a sap and I’m away from home. Today’s post is brought to you by The Living Sisters. If I could find that song on YouTube, I’d post it. Here’s the one that was playing right before it, when I was feeling a little happier:
Back to what’s made the last day and a half bearable (and, you know, good). Mom, Dad, and Gaby drove up from Corey and Candy’s place yesterday to spend the afternoon and evening with me on their way north. Mom and Dad have been all over the south over the last two weeks, and I’m ridiculously happy they realized that coming through Atlanta wouldn’t put them too far out of their way. I was done with work yesterday right about 1pm, and I wasn’t expecting Mom and Dad to arrive until about 4:30, so I went to the aquarium. It was cool and everything, but I think Baltimore and Boston have better ones. Not at all the peaceful afternoon I’d imagined when I thought about going to the aquarium. Yesterday was the last day of school for many of the districts in Atlanta, and it looked like most of them let out early and shipped the students to the aquarium. NOT quiet, pretty crowded, but while I didn’t get to experience the whole meditation-while-looking-at-fishies thing, I did have perfect timing to see all the animals get fed. I was checking out the otter exhibit (they were all napping in a big pile) when an aquarium employee appeared and tossed some food at them. They bolted out of that pile like they’d been faking the nap and scurried all over the habitat scooping up the food, doingcutelittlehumanthingswiththeirhands. Where was my camera? That’s right. Hotel room. But it was fun to watch. Oh, one thing that is totally cool about the Georgia Aquarium is how they’ve put half of the tanks and exhibits over the heads of the people walking around. So in the Georgia swamp area, you’re wandering around looking at frogs and snakes and things (this one little boy had camped out in front of the tree frog tank and made it his business to show me every single slimy, slithery thing in there), and then something catches your eye and you look UP. And above me, right there over my head, was a huge tank of water with a glass bottom, and a two-foot long catfish looking down at me. There were all kinds of fish swimming over my head. And that’s just the river exhibit. When we got to the ocean part (Ocean Voyager, maybe?), the track leads you into this tunnel that goes under and through what they say is the largest aquatic exhibit in the world. Lots of sharks, giant grouper, a manta ray, and four half-grown whale sharks. And lots of other fish. LOTS of other fish. After you get through the tunnel (which is just SO cool – seriously the fish and the sharks are swimming next to you and over you and it’s SO COOL – they had hammerhead sharks and the kind with noses that look like chainsaws. I can never remember what those are called.), you end up in a room with a window onto the exhibit that’s the size of a movie screen. I got there just in time to watch them feed these fish, which they do by pumping food in through a pipe. Everything in the tank zeroes in on this one pipe, right in front of the glass, I got to watch the feeding frenzy. Then, while I was in the tropical reef exhibit, they fed those fish, too. It was neat to watch, but I think I’ve had my fill of watching fish eat. After a couple of hours, I’d seen everything (minus the exhibits with an extra charge), so I went back to the hotel. About an hour later, I got a phone call from Gaby telling me they were checking in, so I met them in front. Where Gaby got shy for about five seconds. Then she got over it. I can’t blame her. I think it’s been a year since I saw her last. And at four and a half, I think she can be forgiven for not immediately recognizing an aunt she’s seen all of five times (now six) in her life. She’s the funniest little kid. We went to dinner at PF Chang’s (they have a reliably gluten-free menu for Dad, and besides, they’re good), and she started to fade a little. At first, she wanted to sit with the girls, so they three of us crowded into one side of the booth with Dad all by himself on the other side. After a while, she disappeared under the table after a crayon she’d dropped, and when she came back up, she’d moved to Dad’s side. Mom bagged up the leftovers and left them in the middle of the table. I started making faces at Gaby, who gave me a blank (tired) look and then slowly slid the bag over until it blocked her view of me. Cracked me up. And she insisted on sleeping with me instead of Grammy and Poppy last night. I guess Mom and Dad had suggested it to her earlier in the day, but we all expected her to back out once it came down to it. Not Gaby. I was about to drop and she was on her second wind (and an hour behind me, since she was coming from Central time), but even knowing that if she stayed with me we were going to bed right now didn’t deter her. So we headed across the hall to my room after Mom made her brush her teeth and she settled onto the right side (if you’re on it) of the giant bed. I got ready for bed and climbed in, and she scooted over to the middle so I could read her the two stories she’d been promised. After two stories, I was putting myself to sleep, so we turned off the light (leaving the bathroom light on and the light over by the door so it wouldn’t get too dark). She tossed and turned a bit (and was still in the middle of the bed, leaving me less than a third on the left), and then decided she didn’t want sleep at the head of the bed. She wanted to sleep at the foot of the bed, under the comforter that was folded up there. I didn’t care, so she moved and tossed and turned down there. And then demanded another story. And another. And another. So I made one up, which apparently didn’t go over well, because she asked for princess stories after that, particularly Ariel and Belle. So with my eyes closed and my words slurring (I think), I managed slightly butchered and completely condensed renditions of “The Little Mermaid” and “Beauty and the Beast” (the Disney versions, naturally). At some point, she moved back up to the head of the bed, in the middle, sprawled out at an angle, and fell asleep.
I didn’t sleep well.
But she’s so cute! I can forgive a lot for a cute face and a little girl who tells me she loves me without any prompting. So yesterday was fun, and this morning, too, and I’m always happy to hang out with Mom and Dad.
On top of THAT, when I checked in online for my flight to Boston today, Air Tran offered me an upgrade to business class for a very reasonable price, and I took it. So here I am, sitting in the very front row of the business class section, next to the window, with free wi-fi. I’ve just finished one of those cute little airline bottles of chardonnay and two milano cookies, I’m listening to The Living Sisters (although I’m on the second round of the album and I’m thinking about switching to something else), and I’ll have all day tomorrow in Boston to do whatever I want before I have to work on Monday. I think the aquarium is calling my name. 🙂 The one in Boston has penguins!
So, even though I’d rather be home (or be going to Boston on vacation with John), I can make the best of it. It helps that I ran this morning. Makes me feel like I’m holding my own in my battle against getting fat.
Enough of this. I’m going back to my book. I just started a mystery by Tana French called In The Woods.
John thinks I should change my tag line from “What did you expect?” to “Because Non Sequitur was taken”. And now that I’ve checked, it’s not taken, and I wonder if I should buy it…
In honor of John, here are a few unrelated items:
As I dragged my suitcases from the baggage carousel to the train for the rental car counters, I followed a woman leading a doggie train across the street. Why didn’t I take a picture? I’m an idiot, that’s why. The woman had a rolling suitcase behind her, and attached to that, she had what looked like an overnight bag on wheels with mesh sides. The top was open and there were two little white dogs (Westies, maybe) checking out the surroundings. One was seated with just its head poking out, but the other was up on its hind legs, leaning on the front of the bag, craning its neck in every direction. One of the cutest things I’ve ever seen. They looked like they were riding on the caboose of a little train.
My last rental car (a Kia Spectra), while economy, had power everything. You know, the normal things (windows, locks, etc.). This one, a Chevy Aveo, has power NOTHING. Can you remember the last time you were in a car without power locks? Without power windows? My first car didn’t have power locks or windows, but it was an ’88 Corolla hatchback, not a 2009 Chevy four-door sedan, and I haven’t been in that car since…1997.
I finished the Lawrence Block book, The Burglar in the Library, last night before I went to sleep. That’s right – I liked it SO much I couldn’t put it down. Started it on the plane, finished it before I went to sleep. And as soon as I can find a used bookstore around here that’s open when I’m able to get there, I plan to buy several more of his books. And there are lots of used bookstores in Atlanta.
I started watching Marilyn Hotchkiss’ Ballroom Dancing and Charm School tonight, a movie I’m pretty sure John isn’t interested in. I am, but I can’t watch it now. It’s about a guy (Robert Carlyle) getting over the death of his wife. WHY would I want to watch a gut-wrenching, soul-twisting, tearjerker of a movie about a guy who’s lost his wife when I can’t be home with John? I wouldn’t, that’s right, so I’m turning it off. I’m going to curl up in bed with the next Dresden Files book ’cause a little light vampire-killing (or whatever monster he’ll go after in this book) is just what I need.
It’s ten to three. We pulled away from the gate on time, did some taxi-ing (how do you spell that? Taxying? Taxing? Taxiing?), and then came to a standstill on the tarmac with a message from the pilot. “Something something something from Atlanta, 30 minutes before we can take off, approximate time of take-off 16 after the hour, blah blah ten-minute warning to turn electronics back off.” So…why did we pull away from the gate? Why board at all? Maybe so those of us who are sleepy can nap uninterrupted, as both of my seatmates are doing right now. (One is snoring. Lightly, but still.) I’m on the window this time, exit row again, next to two seemingly ordinary people. We’ll see how it goes. And Mom, I don’t ALWAYS have stories to tell about my flight. On my way home from Atlanta two days ago, my seatmate was a woman visting her daughter in Leesburg. She was a bit of a talker, but perfectly nice. It wasn’t her fault that I wasn’t in the mood to chat. (Maybe if she’d been a hot ex-Marine I’d have changed my mind about that. 🙂 )
I finished my Dresden Files book while waiting to board. I have another one with me, but I’m going to try a new mystery writer first. New to me. Has anyone heard of Lawrence Block? I read about his books somewhere (almost everything I buy comes from a recommendation now), but I can’t remember where. So far so good. The book is called “The Burglar in the Library”, the main character owns a used bookstore, and he’s heading to an English-style bed and breakfast to look for a possibly non-existent rare book. Just my cup of tea.
Yesterday, John and I went to Erik’s place to help him celebrate getting his Masters degree in International Commerce and Policy. (Erik, did I get it right?)
Hey, ten-minute warning. I’ll finish that later.
Much later:
I’m in my hotel room after a trip to a nail salon (yay for pretty toes) and a trip to Kroger for breakfast and lunch supplies for the week. Food and relaxing are at the top of my list for right now, so, um, bye.
We really need to make an effort to see our friends more often. Yes, we’re busy, life is busy, and right now isn’t ever the best time, but these guys have been our friends for more than a decade, and I feel like we’re missing out on things. Try harder! I can do that. For now, though, I’m going to track John down. We got home tonight and heard loud music from somewhere down the street, so John went to find out if there’s a band playing or if it’s just someone’s radio turned up as loud as possible. I’m sure he’s hoping it’s a band.
(This is me putting off thinking about tomorrow. Except not really. Just burying it.)
I just watched the “Brown Betty” episode of Fringe. There was a detective story (noir, but with a few touches of futuristic technology – cool combination), singing, and Peter and Olivia almost/kinda falling in love, all in the guise of a story told to a little girl…I think I really like Joshua Jackson.
John stayed home with Roxy today. No seizures. She napped the day away. I wish I could be home. But it’s Wednesday night already (isn’t it? I can’t tell.), and I only have one more work day to go.
Forgive me, Internet, for quitting now. I haven’t been sleeping well in this hotel bed (I think I hate the pillows – too squishy), I haven’t gone for a run in I don’t know how many days, and I’m really tired.
John left Roxy with the vet for observation today, and she had another couple of seizures this afternoon. When I last talked to John, he was racing out of the office to get there before the doctor left so he could talk to her about Roxy. I just finished putting together a list with dates and details of all the seizures she’s had in the last year and a half. It’s a long list. John is more and more convinced that Riley isn’t being a nice doggie when he goes after her neck with his teeth (or “holds her down with the only tools he has at his disposal so she won’t hurt herself.” However you like to look at it). He might be trying to kill the demon that’s taken over his darling Roxy. I’m waiting by the phone for John to call, either from the vet or when he gets home. And I’m hungry, so I’m going to eat while I wait. Nothing particularly entertaining is coming to mind, so I’ll just go away and fret. And eat.
Update: John is home with both dogs, and Roxy’s doing okay for now. John has extra medicine and instructions on what to do if she has more seizures in the next couple of days. He’s going to try to work from home tomorrow so he can keep an eye on her. I feel better after talking to him (and after eating), and then I went to The “Blog” of “Unnecessary” Quotation Marks and couldn’t stop giggling. On to Passive Aggressive Notes for more giggling. Hire taller staff!
And here: this sounds like a huge undertaking, but it would probably end up being the only cookbook anyone who isn’t already a brilliant chef would ever use again. Too bad no one is working on it.
I would still call DisneyWorld the happiest place on earth (me and fifteen trillion of my closest friends), but I think the Coke museum in Atlanta (now The World of Coca-Cola) is the happiest place in Georgia. (Ask me again after I go to the aquarium.) I love Coke. Me and Coke are buddies. We like to hang out.
My class got out a little earlier than expected, so I headed out of the windowless training room on the 9th floor (windowless, yes, but NOT in a basement – big improvement) hoping to go for a run. I got off the elevator to cloudy skies, but I was still hopeful. Cloudy just means it’ll be cooler without the sun beating down on me. Then I got outside. Raining. Hard. Annoyed. (Me, not the rain, although who knows?) Then I had a brilliant idea. I’m in Atlanta, it’s only 4pm, it’s raining, and I’m mere blocks away from a shrine to the only soft drink worthy of the name. So I went – by myself – and joined a tour group and spent a very enjoyable couple of hours looking at all the Coke stuff, watching the videos, watching a ton of Coke commercials, and tasting many (not nearly all) of the really disgusting Coke products they manage to sell around the world. On my way out (funneled, of course, through the gift shop, where I showed admirable restraint and did NOT buy myself a t-shirt), they handed me a Coke. 🙂
In sadder news, Roxy had a seizure this morning. John said it was a cluster seizure, and she was in the middle of it when he came back in from his morning run. Riley had done his holding her down thing, there was hair everywhere, and he’d slobbered all over her neck. (No blood.) John talked to our vet this afternoon, and she apparently jumped to the conclusion that the new medicine isn’t working and that Roxy needs an MRI (costs at least $1000 according to her (the vet, not Roxy)). I’m not sure why she (the vet) went there so quickly, though. Roxy’s only been on the new meds for a month and off the old meds for only three weeks, and in that time she’s had basically two episodes. That sounds pretty promising to me. So we’re going to ignore the vet for the time being. (That’s a strange phrase. Time being. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I don’t think I’ve ever written it down. Looks too weird.)
It got late before I realized it, and I haven’t eaten dinner yet, so I’m out of here.
Updated to add Roxy’s second set of seizures for the day. Three this time. John may be leaving her with the vet for observation tomorrow, since he can’t stay home with her.
Yesterday afternoon, I went to DC to meet several local members of the Dooce Community. Spokeit, a regular commenter here (say hi, everybody) organized it (thank you!), and six of us showed up at Busboys and Poets to hang out (one with baby and brother-in-law in tow). We talked about everything from ticks to strapless dresses (and puffed sleeves!), and I had a really good time. I didn’t stay long (about two hours) because I didn’t want to spend most of my last day at home away from John, but I would like to do it again. Maybe host it next time? I realized, after I left of course, that even though I brought my camera, I didn’t take a single picture. I HAVE to get better about that.
Oh, and Spokeit, guess what song was playing on the radio as I left DC? That’s ri-ight, the ubiquitous (big word points) “Hey, Soul Sister”. The universe is telling me (and everyone within range of a radio, Sirius or otherwise) to go to the Train concert this summer.
Last thing about yesterday: as I left the restaurant and headed across the street, a guy I’ve never seen before flagged me down and tried to pick me up. ! He was carrying a couple of cloth Safeway bags full of groceries, and he started chatting me up as we walked down the block. !! Was I from around there (no, I told him practically West Virginia), could he have my phone number (“Well, I’m married…” “You’re married?!?” “… and I was just on my way to pick him up.”), can he call me anyway and we’d just be friends and do I live with my husband (“Of course I live with him.” “Then I guess I shouldn’t call.”), and then he chatted about the party he was planning for the Lakers game tonight, and then he crossed the street to his apartment building. And I heaved a sigh of relief because I really don’t know how to handle that kind of situation. That sounds ridiculous, I know (it’s just talking), but people don’t approach me on the street and start talking unless they need directions or something. And people certainly don’t hit on me. Or whatever that was.
And now, let’s add to the list of, shall we say, interesting people I meet on airplanes. On my flight to Atlanta today, I had an aisle seat in an exit row that only had one other seat (on the window). A quick glance at my seatmate showed a guy a little older than me, tall, slender, with majorly muscled arms. (He was wearing a black tank top.) He was on the phone and was doing that thing some guys do with their voices when they’re talking to women, sort of softening it. (Did I mention he was good-looking? He was. Very.) Of course I was eavesdropping (it only looked like I was reading), and it sounded like he was talking to his mother. The flight attendant came by to make sure we were comfortable with the responsibilities that go along with sitting in an exit row, and as she left, he turned to me and said (with a very cute grin), “If it comes to that, I will eat that door.” It was funny, we laughed, and it turns out he used to be a Marine. Recon. Badass. That helps to explain the tattoos on his arms. He didn’t seem like your typical macho Marine, though. He came across more like the perfect sensitive Marine, the ones that only exist in the movies. He said he was a writer and had recently been published. What kind of book? Philosophy. Oh, and he’s a physical trainer? I can see that. And an actor? Busy guy. Anything I might have seen? HBO and The History Channel? Wow. And he works for veterans’ groups. And plans to start a gym in New York that will double as a rehab/counseling center where ex-soldiers conditioned to violence can work on moving past all that. And apparently, he’s for real. I wasn’t sure for a while. He’s this guy. Also, this guy. And he’s trying to decide whether he wants to work on a Discovery Channel project next (“One Shot, One Kill” – he was a sniper) or something with Spike TV or one of three other TV projects. And all of that came AFTER he talked about the training and the killing people and the violent episodes and close calls and how he worries about the guys in his unit who may not have been as strong as he is and can’t break away from the mercenary work they’re doing now that they’re out of the military. WAY more information (and way more intensely delivered) than I was expecting to take in from a guy I’ve never met before on an hour and a half-long flight to Atlanta. But he was nice, and he’s got a lot of projects going on, but the ones he seems to take the most seriously are the ones helping his friends and helping veterans. He was sincere and had been through a lot, and I got off the plane wanting to help him (after I talked to John to hash out how strange the whole experience was). Oh. Oh! How could I leave this part out? So he’s worked with HBO (he played himself in “Generation Kill”, which started as a book by a reporter who was embedded with his unit in Iraq), and he’s met Ridley Scott and he’s done work in England and HE’S FRIENDS WITH EMMA THOMPSON! He was her personal trainer for a bit. How cool is that? I’m two degrees away (or is that one?) from Emma Thompson!
That’s short-lived, I promise. I don’t like gardening, but I’ll do what I have to do to keep the neighbors from attacking. We missed mowing the lawn last weekend because of the trip to Pittsburgh, so throughout this past week, the grass got taller and taller and weedier-looking and weedier-looking. It looked awful, so bad we could have been hiding cars on cinder blocks in the front yard, and we lost the dogs every time we opened the back door. I knew we had a busy weekend ahead, so since I got home from work early yesterday (yay!), I decided that the least I could do was get a head start on the yardwork. I spent over three hours out there, weeding my flower bed in the back and mowing the front lawn. It made a big difference this morning, as John was able to clean, mow, and weed-whack the backyard while I mulched the flower bed, all in about an hour and a half. (I carried every one of those giant mulch bags all the way to the bed by myself, and I can’t remember the last time I was so completely covered in dirt. Actual dirty dirt.)
We were right on schedule to get out of the house with plenty of time to get to DC (I’m meeting some people – details will follow after our meetup), but then John checked his work email. Apparently, something didn’t go quite right after an update and everyone’s panicking (probably unnecessarily), so John’s trying to calm them all down. I’m waiting to find out if he’ll be stuck working or if he can still go with me. End result? We’re running late. But, since this is a group party-thing I’m going to, it’s not that big a deal if I’m not right on time. And since I’m leaving tomorrow for a week, I plan to only spend an hour or two at the thing anyway. I’ll probably want to stay longer (I already want to stay longer), but I don’t want to leave tomorrow feeling like I hardly saw John this weekend.
After I mentioned possibly starting an herb garden, Mom sent me a couple of links to cool and/or hilarious pots I could use to grow these as-yet-hypothetical herbs.
I think these pots can be found here, but they don’t look exactly right. The two-tiered thing is very elegant, classic, and possibly the direction I should go in. On the other hand, these crack me up:
The problem (only temporary) with starting an herb garden now (as in this weekend) is that I will hardly be home to take care of the plants over the next two months. And I don’t know how much cooking John will be doing while I’m gone, with or without fresh herbs. I suppose I could ask him. 🙂 In fact, I definitely should ’cause I will need his help. I’m not very good at keeping plants alive. People? Sure. Pets? No problem! Plants? Enter at your own risk.
After yesterday’s post, I can hardly skip a day, but (enter fake French accent) my muse, she is gone.
Of course, then I went and read Curiosity’s post from today, and now I feel like a slacker (a little). She has actual reasons to not post. I do not.
So maybe I’ll stick with a disjointed, kind of random post. John loves me, and I know this for sure because he always warns me before he opens and closes the ironing board (it makes a horrible screeching sound that I cannot stand).
Did you know I could command the Internet? Okay, not the whole Internet. And not command, really, so much as influence. In a tiny way. ‘Cause one very nice lady wanted to make sure I had something to read today, apparently. 🙂 (Did I mention it’s all about me?* Of course it is.)
Last link, ’cause it’s late, and I should be asleep: Today’s XKCD comic. Tomorrow, I’m going to interpret everything John says as code.
*Clarification: “..it’s all about me” refers to my universe, not Token Blogger‘s post.
I mentioned last night that I felt vaguely anxious about today. I didn’t have any reason to be worried, and there was nothing about today that was any different than any of the last two Mondays. Maybe I shouldn’t have talked about it, ’cause this morning was weird. I didn’t have any trouble falling asleep or staying asleep, and I got close to seven hours, I think. Not too bad. I needed to leave a little early to fill up the car, but that wasn’t a problem, and I didn’t eat as much breakfast as usual. Maybe a third of my tea, and just a small bowl of cereal instead of my usual piece of toast with peanut butter (out of peanut butter). I had a hard time staying alert on the drive, so I resorted to yelling at myself and making loud noises. Strange, I know, but effective. You’re not going to fall asleep at the wheel mid-yell. I was starving after I set up for the morning, so I went to the coffee place in the food court and got a small chai latte and a bagel. I had time to eat the whole bagel before class, but I only drank maybe a third (probably less) of the chai. I’m mentioning this in such detail to point out that I don’t think I was either over-caffeinated or under-nourished when I started class.
Anyway.
In the minutes before class and up to about mid-morning (so…more than two hours, closer to three), my heart was not exactly racing, but beating faster than normal, my hands were shaking, and I had to fight to keep my voice from sounding scared. I have NO IDEA what was going on. I’m fine now, and I was fine by lunch, but what? What was that? I didn’t even feel particularly anxious while all that was going on. I had all the physical symptoms of anxiety without any of the unease.
I mentioned it to John when he called me on his way from work, and he thought maybe it was lack of sleep catching up with me. Could be. Whatever it was, I’ve resolved not to worry about it unless it happens again.
Tonight, ravioli with Wegman’s delicious vodka blush sauce (the one in the bag. John’s mom is totally right. The one in the bag is SO much better than the one in the jar.).
One week ago today, John and I got up ridiculously early (for a Sunday morning) (no, 5:20 is always ridiculously early) in order to get to DC (via metro) so he could run in the Cherry Blossom Ten Mile Run. His training had completely derailed, since we had three feet of snow clogging all the paths and streets, and then when it finally melted, he got sick, he was working late, he had schoolwork – everything came together to make it hard for him to be ready. He ran the Army Ten-Miler about three and a half years ago, but he hadn’t hit that distance since then. And since he didn’t feel prepared, he was half-convinced the sweeper bus was going to pick up and take him out the race. He had to keep up a 14-minute mile pace to avoid being picked up. He knew (and I definitely knew) he’d do better than that, but that didn’t stop him from being nervous.
We go to the metro at Dunn Loring and got on the train. Everyone who got on that train, at every stop, was a runner. (They’re the only ones crazy enough to be going to DC that early.) By the time we got into the district, the train was packed, and we all got off at the Smithsonian stop. I wish I’d had my camera out because I looked back over my shoulder as we rode the escalator up and saw that the platform next to the train was one solid mass of people. It looked really cool, but since I was part of that mass, I couldn’t get into my bag. (I was playing sherpa, so I had the backpack to hold all sweatshirts, towels, water, etc.)
We followed the crowd from the metro to the grounds around the Washington Monument. The race started in waves, so they didn’t expect all 15,000 people to be at the starting line at once. The first wave was scheduled to go at 7:40, with the last wave at 8:00. John was in the red wave, which I think was the second one. All John had to do was pin on his number and go. Of course, we’d just commuted in for more than an hour, so John (and every other runner) needed to find a port-a-potty. Fortunately, there were tons of them. Unfortunately, probably 7500 other runners had the same urge. We joined one of the REALLY long lines and started to worry. It didn’t look like it’d be possible for him to make it to the front of the line before the last wave started. (It didn’t matter which wave he joined, so missing his wave wasn’t part of the worry.)
We waited in line for a while, and then he sent me off to find any alternatives. I ran across 14th Street (near the starting line) and found another row of port-a-potties with NO LINES. I raced back to John, waved him out of his line, and sent him running in that direction. Feeling much better, he found me again as the next to last wave was starting, and we got him in the crowd. And it was a crowd. SO many people. They were sent off, but they were packed in so tightly that they all walked for another few minutes. So I walked along with them, outside the railing.
The crowd of runners (only one wave, I think)
John in that crowd. The race has started, but nobody's running yet.
There they go.
I found a great spot along the rail right by the finish line (I was already there when I look that last picture), so, along with some other very enthusiastic spectators, I shouted myself hoarse cheering on the finishers. Long before John came in, Erik and Margaret joined me at the finish line, bringing much-needed caffeine. We cheered John across the line, and then headed for our meetup point. Here’s Erik, convinced he can spot John in the sea of people:
And here’s John, triumphant and sweaty. He finished almost four minutes faster than his last 10-miler time.
From there, we hopped the metro out to Ballston to have a yummy brunch with Erik and Margaret at Whitlow’s, and then we went home, where both of us collapsed of exhaustion, even though only one of us deserved the rest. 🙂 Go John!
By we, of course, I mean mostly John. After mowing the lawn (John), some light weeding (me), dog poop scooping (me), and then tying up a sagging bush (blame the three feet of snow that sat on top of it for a month) with neon yellow string (mostly John), John decided that today was the day to somehow attach these extra pieces of latticework (or trellis? not sure what you’d call it) to the corner of the deck. In the morning, we’ll have a little shade. I haven’t figured out what to do about late afternoon. I took pictures! I forgot to take a before picture, but here’s one when we were two-thirds of the way done.
Actually, here’s a before picture, no trellis yet, with John hard at work doing…something. On a ladder.
And here’s the finished product. From the yard…
…and from the deck.
Since I had my camera out, I figured I’d take some pictures of the yard when it’s at its best. And the dogs. So here’s most of the backyard, with my flower bed in need of mulching. Maybe next weekend.
Here’s the rose bush that’s trying to take over the deck.
Technically, that’s two rose bushes. Here are few pictures of the dogs taking advantage of the shade.
It’s breezy and the wind chimes are…chiming, I guess, and we could hear them clearly if the windows were open, but did you see how high the pollen count was today? My car is covered, and even though I was outside most of the day, there’s no way I’m letting clouds of pollen get into the house.
Most of the day got away from us, but all the chores are done (minus the grocery shopping) and John asked for two hours to himself so he can concentrate on his project for school before we settle in with dinner and maybe a movie. He’ll have to spend much of tomorrow on his project, too, but at least he’ll have done something today, and he won’t have to worry about the lawn and stuff. And tomorrow morning, we can catch up on the four hours of Lost we have saved on the DVR. Hopefully, the rest of my weekend will include nothing more taxing than a morning run tomorrow, catching up on TV, lots of Internet time (I have to get my fix in on the weekends, now that I know what my weeks at work look like), a trip to Wegman’s (hardly a chore), and some play time outside with the dogs. Maybe at the dog park.
For now, I need a shower. And comfy clothes. And I’m in for the night. Oh, one more thing for tomorrow – set up a couple of lunch dates with a couple of friends.
And they don’t include working after I get home on a Friday evening for several hours. But I promised myself I wasn’t going to talk about that. Instead, I’ll mention that Roxy got so excited about the pieces of lamb fat she was going to get that she repeatedly walked herself into the narrow dead end between the arm of the couch and the wall. Head first. She doesn’t like to back up, so she’d stand there, tongue out, tail wagging, with her nose just barely over the arm, until I nudged her backwards with my hand on her chest. Like three times.
John is in the office pretending he’s Brian May, and I’m pretending I have time to check some of my favorite sites before my eyes close. We don’t have any plans this weekend (other than the usual light house cleaning, lawn mowing, grocery shopping, and something (I know there was something else I wanted to do, but did I write it down? Say it with me. No!)), so I hope to run and relax. And relaxing had better include catching up with my favorite online people. Also my new favorites, thanks to a recent thread at the Dooce Community and, of course, Spoke’s Blog Love series (first day here).
Before I go to bed, this is for Mom, Sandwich Stealer (not that one), Jess, and other people I could name but will not. Today. Just you wait.
I think the point of mentioning my priorities in the title was so I could say I still have mine, and I think they’re in the right order, but I need to work a lot harder at figuring out how to make them happen every day. Or most days. I feel a bit overwhelmed, and not by anything bad, but by not being able to make time for all those little things I like to do. But I will. I will figure it out.
You know, I didn’t run 10 miles today, but I’m completely exhausted. Getting up at 5:20 on a Sunday morning is not natural. It’s evil. But it was a good day. Beautiful morning, once the sun came up. John did great, beating his time from the Army 10-miler by 4 minutes. Come back tomorrow for more about today, including pictures. Going to bed now.
