And now I can breathe

The weekend is upon us, and I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.  Sure, we have work to do (seeding the lawn is on the agenda for tomorrow), but it’s a THREE-DAY WEEKEND.  Three whole days.  Once I stopped working today, I was even inspired to clean up a bit.  I may have been watching Cinderella (and singing along) while washing dishes and cleaning the countertops, but you weren’t there so you’ll never know for sure.

I started reading the next book club book (Before I Go to Sleep) last night – it’s fascinating.  The next meeting is a week from today.  I’ll have this one finished before the weekend is over.

Better

Today was better than yesterday.  And the new yoga instructor is very different, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.  We had a very restful, very peaceful class.

Hey, I found out I’m a genius today.  Or at least very perceptive.  In a very narrow field.  Do you remember way back when I read Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill?  No?  Well, you must not be keeping up with my What I’ve Been Reading page. Here’s what I said when I read it:

This is a scary book, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish it. Okay, it was scary right at the beginning, and that first night, I decided not to read it in bed. After that, though, it didn’t scare me. That’s not to say it wasn’t good. It was. But I wasn’t too scared to read it. It reminded me of Stephen King sometimes, and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad.

I finished 11/22/63 today (recent Stephen King novel), and when I got to the afterword and read, “My son, the novelist Joe Hill,” I did a triumphant little I’m-so-smart dance.  Really.  Because I have a very high opinion of myself.

Reading like the wind

Remember that book club I got so excited about?  I haven’t been since that first time in April, but it totally hasn’t been my fault.  The May meeting was the first Friday we were in England, they skipped June, and the July meeting was scheduled for last Friday when we were still in Orlando.  Luckily (for me), it didn’t happen last Friday and was instead rescheduled for this Friday.  Like, tomorrow.  When I’m free.  And I found out about that yesterday.  So I have a little over 24 hours to read the book.  I got it for my Kindle around 4pm today and started it at the gym.  Finding the time to finish it shouldn’t be all that hard since my head is pounding and I’m probably taking a sick day tomorrow.  Note to self: five days of dawn to midnight running around theme parks in absurd heat really must be followed by at least one day of rest.  Real rest.

Now I have to hide from the internet and read.  Poor me.  🙂

It’s that time again

What to read?  I think I need help.  I started a book of short stories by Harlan Ellison before we left for England.  I left it behind because it’s hardcover, and I didn’t want to travel with it.  The stories are all somewhat depressing, so I’m not in a hurry to get back to it.  I started Little, Big on the plane ride over, but it’s hard to get into and I’m thinking about giving up.  Has anyone read it?  Should I keep going?  I finished Coming Home (this was my second time through) late last night.  I love that book.  The book club I may or may not be a member of read The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks this past month.  I missed the meeting because of our trip.  I have it, but I don’t think I’m anywhere near in the mood for something like that.  That would mean branching out, and I just don’t feel like doing that today.  Maybe it’s the stormy weather, but I want comfort reading.  Wait – I think I have the solution.  I haven’t read the most recent Dresden Files book, and from there I may move on to Jim Butcher’s fantasy series.  Hooray for decisions!  You guys are so helpful.  🙂

We had a request for more dog videos, so here’s one of the dogs in the rain.

Hey, I didn’t promise it would be interesting.  They don’t do much that’s interesting…

Chasing some thoughts as they flit through my tired brain

I like tea.  Might have put too much sugar in this cup, though.  I gave Roxy a kong toy with frozen peanut butter and dog treats stuffed inside.  She chewed happily on it until she chased it under my desk.  She was heading my way to tell me to fetch it for her just when I noticed that the gnawing sounds had stopped.  Smart dog.  I think I chose the wrong book to read.  I want to read it, and I want to want to read it more, but I clearly don’t want to read it enough since I’m here typing instead of reading.  I’ll read it.  Tomorrow.  Tomorrow is Tuesday.  Tomorrow is almost February.  Technically, today is also almost February.  When does almost start?  Definitely not earlier than halfway through the month before.  I was having this conversation with someone about age recently.  I’m almost 33.  Who says that at this age?  When you’re a month away from your 13th birthday, it makes sense to say you’re almost 13.  Almost 9.  Almost 16.  But almost 33?  Three weeks to go.  So do I give in and just say I’m 33?  I’m closer to 33 than 32.  Or do I hold on to 32 (“as long as you ca-an”) until the actual day?  Seriously, I wonder about this almost every day.  The cardio machines at the gym ask me for weight (depressing, but that’s not one of the choices) and age.  From a purely physiological (is that the word I’m looking for?) standpoint, 33 would be closer to the truth.  I hope the machine doesn’t mind that I’ve been lying to it for almost six months.  Almost.

My commute to Saturn

I have weeks where work takes over my life, when even though I’m home doing things I enjoy, work is still on my mind.  What I’m going to do tomorrow, how I’m going to solve that problem, what I’m going to tell the client in the next meeting – those things buzz around in my brain when I’m trying to relax.

Then I have weeks where work might as well be on another planet as far as my brain is concerned.  It’s taking everything I have to concentrate on work today (and clearly, since I’m here, I’m not doing a very good job).  My brain would rather be making phone calls and appointments, taking placement exams and registering for classes.  Or READING.  I had an appointment today (x-rays that determined I will have to have a sinus lift before I get a new molar), and I was able to finish No Second Chance.  Good.  It was good.  I want more!  It’s cold outside, but it’s sunny.  Why can’t I be out there enjoying the sunlight?  I’m not stressed – far from it – but I’d like to be able to enjoy my zen-ish state somewhere other than this gray cubicle.

Technical difficulties

It’s funny what an unexpected internet outage can do to an evening. Since yesterday was my day off from exercising, I’d planned to spend some time reading my regular blogs (it’s been a couple of days) until John came home and we ate dinner.  Instead, I got home from a whirlwind day in DC with my boss (We commuted together and were in almost every meeting together – that’s a LOT of quality time.  I value my time alone in the car after days like this; I need it to relax and let the day go.  Didn’t happen.) to find that we had no internet, we had no phone (we have Vonage for the house (needs internet) and my cell phone battery was dying), and the problem seemed to be with the cable company.  At least we had power.  It was cold in the house, so, while I waited for John to come home so we could have stir fry for dinner, I made myself some de-caf Earl Grey and curled up under a blanket on the couch with my book.  My new book, a mystery set in post-WWI England with a haunted detective.

The internet came back this morning (obviously).  I missed it.

Wales – Day 1, Part 1

Alternate titles: The Journey That Wouldn’t End, Why Did We Think It Would Be Fun To Drive Four-ish Hours From London While Exhausted When We Could Have Flown Into Manchester, Which Is Only A Little Over An Hour Away?, or Luckily, We’re Good With Maps

I’ve spent most of the last three days in a comfy chair in front of a roaring fire with the dogs curled up on their dog beds at my feet.  I’ve finished two books and started another.  In fact, over the last twelve days, I’ve read six books and a little of a seventh.  And all of that reading has been done in Wales, in transit to and from Wales, and in front of this fire at home.  HEAVEN.  Totally awesome vacation.  A vacation about which and to you I plan to tell.  Starting now.  And starting with the airport.

There were a lot of lines and a lot of people in them.  I know the airport is traditionally busy during the holidays, and we were flying four days after Christmas and two days before New Year’s, but I’ve flown on and near holidays before, and this was truly the busiest I’ve ever seen Dulles. We waited in a long long line before we could go stand in the longer line to check in for the flight.  The ante-line, I guess.  The guy moving people from one line to the next was a jerk.  He kept yelling at people who walked in between the two lines (who were using the only path available to them to get where they were going), but he’d yell like this was the third time they’d done it and they just. weren’t. listening. I’d kind of understand that if it was the same people over and over again, but it WASN’T.  And then, of course, we waited in line at security.  We went through the new x-ray machines with no issues or possibly inappropriate pat-downs.  The guy behind me in line didn’t fully understand the x-ray machine process.  He was standing in the middle of it, like you’re supposed to, and one of the TSA agents asked him if he had anything in his pockets.  If he’d done ANY traveling in the last two decades, and he seemed like he probably had, you’d think the answer would have been no.  Of course, it wasn’t.  “Just my ticket,” he said.  The TSA agent said he should put everything in his pockets in the little bowl they provided.  He handed over his ticket. They started to scan again.  “Sir, do you have anything else in your pockets?”  “Just some change and my keys.”  “Sir, you can’t have ANYthing in your pockets.”  He put his change and keys in the little bowl.  Started the scan again.  “Sir, do you have something ELSE in your pockets?”  “Just some kleenex.”  Really exasperated now.  “SIR.  You can’t have ANYthing in your pockets.”  “Not even kleenex?”  “Nothing, sir.”  “Oh.  News to me.”  I was dying.

This may be surprising to some of you, but even after waiting in all those lines, I was not worried about making our flight. Not anxious. Our flight was supposed to leave at 5:46 and we got to the airport and started waiting in lines at 3:35. But that reminds me – I think our cab driver must have been new. He was a little early to pick us up (not the issue), and we were a little late getting out the door (also not the issue), but then he had no idea how to get to the airport. I might not expect him to be able to get out of our neighborhood without help (although he got to our house without us AND he has a GPS), but seriously – once you get to the main north-south road, there’s really no excuse for not knowing you a) have to get on it to get there and 2) it’s SOUTH. On top of that, on the access road leading to the departures drop-off section, he didn’t seem to know he needed to be in the outer lanes for departures and not the inner lanes (for arrivals), despite the signs, until the last minute when he went veering across a couple of lanes filled with cars. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in this guy. But whatever, he got us there with plenty of time to spare. And that was the end of my worrying.

The plane ride was pretty easy, if cramped (economy sucks and we didn’t pay the extra $90 each for 5 extra inches – we did on the way home).  I got an hour or two of sleep, I think, but John didn’t get any.  We were in the middle section of three on the plane, near the back, with John on the aisle and me in the middle, and a totally ungrateful guy on my other side, a fact I discovered when they fed us.  (I knew he was there, of course – I like to think I’m pretty observant – but I didn’t know he was rude until then.)  The flight attendants were out of pasta dishes by the time they got to him, and I guess he doesn’t eat meat (beef was the other option), so he said he wouldn’t have anything. I’d already gotten the pasta, but hadn’t touched it yet, so I offered it to him. Did I get a “Thanks, that’s really nice of you” or “No, thanks, I’m not really all that hungry, but I appreciate the offer”? No. I got a shrug and “okay.” Whatever, dude.  Then he put his blanket over his head and we didn’t see him again.

Landed, customs, picked up rental car (silver Peugeot – there’s a word I still can’t pronounce), blah blah, nothing particularly exciting.  It was sometime between 6 and 8am in London, but I don’t know for sure ’cause we stopped looking at clocks.  It didn’t matter anymore, and the actual time was somewhat meaningless just then.  We had a four-ish hour drive to get to our cottage in North Wales, a big map, a road atlas, and two drivers who thought it was the middle of the night.  John drove first while I navigated.  Driving on the left, thankfully, was not as hard as we thought it would be, and we made it just past Birmingham (about halfway) before John was too tired to drive anymore.  Adrenaline had kicked in for me, so I was ready to go.  It worked out nicely.  He was able to take a nap as long as we stayed on the highway (I’m sorry, the motorway), so he could navigate for me once we got into Wales and onto winding, narrow, two-lane roads with no shoulders and either tall hedges or stone walls on both sides.  Of the very narrow roads.  But more about those later.  That morning, we were just trying to get to the cottage.  Which we managed, sometime before 1pm.  I can’t tell you exactly what time it was since none of our clocks seemed to be accurate.  Our phones didn’t update because they didn’t have a network to connect to (we knew that), the clock in the car didn’t match the clock at the coffee place we stopped at on the way, and the clock on the oven in the cottage didn’t match the clock in the car.

Damn, I can be long-winded sometimes.  Here are some pictures from the drive (when John was driving – I snapped some pictures from inside the moving car, so none of them are actually good).  I’ll continue tomorrow.

It was a grey and misty morning.

Breakfast in Oxford

This was not easy after being up more than 24 hours in a row.

More story and  better pictures tomorrow.  Promise.

You’re a fake and I’m a phony

i bought myself a present.  I finally own a copy of Holiday Inn, which I am watching right now.  Other than that, I’ve got nothing for today.

Well, something.  If you like Russell Brand, you will probably like Tim Minchin.

With that, I’m off to finish my book.  It’s somewhat entertaining (Connie Willis’s book is MUCH better), but I’m ready for it to be over.  I need to finish it so I can read something else.  Before Christmas.  Ooh, there’s a thought.  What books are coming with me on our trip?  That’ll be fun to plan out.

Thought of something else.  John Scalzi posted his third list of ten things he’s done that you probably haven’t.  I can only think of one off the top of my head: I have crossed every single line of longitude on the globe, all by ship (except for the width of the US – I did that twice in a car, a few more times by plane).

And now for some geek humor (thanks to The Daily What (and FoxTrot, of course) for the comic).

Where the grass is labeled

I want SO many books.  John and I ran a bunch of errands today, and one of them was a trip to Borders (33% off coupon – yay!) where I got the new Connie Willis book (love her).  I walked through the science fiction section and saw at least two books on every shelf that I want to read.  And own.  And keep on my bookshelves forever.

This is a problem.

I don’t have enough time to read all these books.  And I haven’t read at least 30% of the books I already own.  Maybe only 20%.  Hm.  I should figure that out.  Later.  How do I convince someone to pay me to read what I want, when I want to (which is all day and all night)?  If any of you have the answer, please share.

Wait.  Wait!  I’ve got it.  Jess, hire me to be your editor.  (You know, with all that spare cash you have lying around.)  Put me on retainer and, in between editing the chapters of your book (which is going to be fantastic), I’ll read.  No, I have no experience as an editor (other than editing college papers for John, Erik, and my roommates), and no, I don’t have any contacts in the publishing world, but wouldn’t that be fun?

(Jess, this is not a serious offer.  Well, it is, but I wouldn’t expect you to pay me until your second book, after you’re rolling in cash from the first book.  🙂  )

I’ll never be able to sleep now

I don’t get snakes.  Snakes as pets, anyway.  No, I don’t get snakes at all.  They’re creepy and I hate them.  I don’t care if they’re big or small, poisonous or harmless, with giant fangs or no fangs.  I really REALLY don’t like snakes.  Had a nightmare about them just the other night, and I’m probably doomed to have another one tonight.  I was driving home from work, and I saw a guy start to cross the street near the shopping center about a mile and a half from my house.  He was holding his son’s hand, and I saw what looked like a scarf or something draped across his shoulders.  That deserved a second look in 90-degree heat anyway, and that’s when I realized it wasn’t a scarf.  It was a snake.  A big one.  Like a boa constrictor or a python or something crazy like that.  It was HUGE.  Bigger around than my arms.  (I was going to say it was bigger around than my thigh, but sadly, I don’t think that’s the case.)  I don’t know if I can live here anymore.  That snake totally sensed my fear and is going to come slithering over here tonight to kill me.  A mile and a half is nothing to a big snake like that, right?  Oh, nightmares.  My book isn’t going to be much help as a distraction, either.  I love Ray Bradbury, but these stories just aren’t grabbing me.  Is it wrong of me to put it down unfinished and look for something more engrossing?  Nah.  Being distracted from the snakes that are out to get me is more important than any hangup I have about not finishing a book.

The linkiest of linky posts

I’ve been meandering through my bookmarks and catching up on blogs I haven’t been reading lately ’cause sometimes I don’t even have time to read all the blogs on my blogroll and if I don’t have time to do that, how am I supposed to have time to keep up with the 80 blogs I have bookmarked?  Anyway, I’ve found some things worth sharing (there are always things worth sharing, every day, but I don’t always get there ’cause I’m selfish like that, you know?  I don’t always want to share.  Alternative explanation: I’m lazy.).

First, from my favorite Wombat, a totally awesome piano performance at the Mayo Clinic.

Jess’s wandering basil plant was returned to her.  That should be a band name: Jess’s Wandering Basil.  Or the name of a country estate.  Wandering Basil.  I like it.

I was reading through Dooce archives and came across this video of a herd of buffalo kicking some lion ass.  WAY cool and sometimes kinda hard to watch.

This woman is fascinating.  I need to get there more often.

Can’t find something?  It must be at the bottom of the ever-moving Asian food section.  This post cracked me up.  And while I’m plugging Scott Adams, I want a house like this.

SuzRocks, a sentence all by herself.  Even if she didn’t write entertaining posts about forbidding her husband to die and daring gangsters to get shot, she has my name and SHE SPELLS IT RIGHT.  I’d read her just for that.  We’ve got to stick together.

You can thank the band for all these links.  They’ve been rehearsing for the last two hours, and it’s a wonder I’m not typing the words to “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide” all mixed in with the words to “Superstition” and “Cecilia”.  I’m retreating upstairs now, with a pillow for my head and my next book.  Crap.  I don’t know what I’m reading next.  I’m off to browse.

Ah ha!  Short stories by Ray Bradbury.  Sold.

Because “Non Sequitur” was taken

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.

Mid-morning excitement

So I’m teaching this training class today when the fire alarm starts flashing and we hear a garbled and crackling announcement come out of speakers we didn’t even notice were in the ceiling.  No idea what the announcement kept repeating, but we came to the conclusion that we should probably evacuate the building.  We joined all the other people streaming up the stairs (the class is held on the lowest basement level), but no one knew what was going on.  The security guards on the main level said only the alarms on the basement levels were going off and no one in the rest of the building had any idea what was going on.  They determined it was a false alarm pretty quickly (or so we heard) and we all went back inside, but the whole experience makes me a wonder a little.  I can only assume someone somewhere was taking it seriously, but I haven’t seen any evidence of that.  Nuclear summit, anyone?  Federal building?

I remembered one other reason I don’t want to make metro my primary way of getting to work: I can’t read on the train anymore!  How horrible is that?  I discovered that I get a little carsick on the metro (train-sick?  Motion-sick doesn’t sound right.  Nauseous will do, but that’s a little strong for how I felt.) even while not reading on Sunday, when we took the metro to and from DC for the race (but that could have been ’cause I’d hardly eaten.  Maybe I was hungry).  Then yesterday, I tried to read in the morning and found I couldn’t.  I tried again on the way home (Persistent, right?  Well, it’s important!), but I could only read when the train was stopped.  So if I can’t read, where’s the advantage of letting someone else drive?  Sure, I can’t read in the car, but I have books on CD.  And yes, I could download those books to mp3 and use my headphones, but that takes work.  And lest we forget, I’m lazy.  And super tired when I get home from work.  I’m barely able to make dinner.  I didn’t mean to start whining.  Not that much, anyway.

How NOT to waste a Sunday afternoon

Hmm.  Well, that really depends on what you consider a waste of a Sunday.  And I think that entirely depends on what sort of weekend you’ve had or what kind of week is coming up.  For me, this Sunday, wasting the day would have meant doing nothing.  If you know me, you know that I consider doing nothing on a Sunday (or any day) to be one of the best ways to spend a day.  Normally.  But I have a very busy, somewhat stressful week coming up, with a long commute at either end of the work day and very little time to get stuff done.  Today, not wasting my Sunday meant being productive.  So I went to the grocery store (Wegman’s, of course) to stock up for the week ahead, went to Staples to buy a laptop bag for work, got my car cleaned out, paid the bills, filled out the census form, and did what little picking up was required to put the house back into the shape it was yesterday morning.  That part was easy; Jess and Chuck aren’t that messy.  And now I’m done with all of that and I can spend the rest of the day doing whatever I want.  I think.  And what is that?  I think it’s reading.

But first, I’ve seen a few movies recently.  John and I watched District 9 last weekend.  It was not at all what I expected, but that could have been because I didn’t see any previews or read anything about it before I saw it.  It was interesting, certainly, and gory enough for three movies, but I can’t say I want to see it again.  We watched Dean Spanley and then Stardust with Jess and Chuck last night.  I think I really liked Dean Spanley (it was not at all what I expected – took me completely by surprise when I started to see where it was going), and I think I’ll like it more when I can see it again.  Jess performed her magic to get our DVD player to play her Region 2 DVD, and we’re very impressed.  Stardust is one I already knew I loved.

I’m a little chilly, so I off to take a nice warm bath, read my book, and…I feel like there should be a third thing to keep the rhythm of the sentence going, but I can’t think of anything.  🙂  My goal for the evening is to not stress out about tomorrow.  I’m as prepared as I can be.

I’m not a risk-taker

I went outside today.  For about 10 seconds.  John is trying to figure out why the airbag light is coming on in his car, so I stepped out into the driveway to see how it was going.  John said, “Um…” and pointed to the layer of pollen on the hood of the mustang.  Point taken.  I went back inside.  I just finished the third Dresden Files book, and I’m probably going to pick up the 4th next.  Mostly because I’m too lazy to put much thought into what I really want to read next.  And because I don’t think I can concentrate very well on anything that isn’t brain candy.  If I had another Dean Koontz novel, I’d probably read that, too.  Instead.  Whatever.  I’m staying inside today, and maybe, if John loves me, he’ll bring me egg-drop soup.

I knew the way you know about a good melon

The produce guy at Wegman’s praised my apple-choosing skills today.  Good to know I have a fallback if my current job doesn’t work out.  I’m not sure where, other than the produce section of a grocery store,  I can market this new-found skill o’ mine.  I also noticed that finally, as of yesterday, there is NO MORE SNOW in the front yard.  It’s mid-March – if it snows again (this season), I’m moving south.

I finished Run today.  Loved it.  I think I’m going to head for something lighter next, like maybe the next book in The Dresden Files series.  Mindy is using my book list (see Books and Movies in the sidebar) for inspiration so she can take a break from her school reading.  That makes me very happy.

Daylight Saving Time started today, but it’ll probably be Tuesday before I’m used to it.  It’s almost nine, and I should be thinking about getting ready for bed (I plan to get up early and run, if it’s not raining), but it doesn’t feel nearly that late and I’m not remotely tired.  Those tiny insignificant issues aside, I’m thrilled about the time change.  I need more hours of daylight.