trying new things

Dinner!

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I don’t cook much (as most of you know), but for some reason, I feel like what I made tonight for dinner was more like real cooking than the other things I make for dinner.  Patently ridiculous.  I don’t consider salmon, brisket, pasta, stir fry, etc., real?  I even include vegetables when I make those!  Crazy.

Tonight’s meal wasn’t any harder.  I diced onions and a bright orange bell pepper.  Sauteed them in a pot with a little butter.  Added canned red beans and garlic and pepper and a little salt (didn’t need the salt). Tossed in small pieces of already cooked andouille sausage.  Steamed some rice.  Threw it all in a bowl.  It was good.  Why does it feel more like cooking?  Because it took more steps?  Not any more than stir fried vegetables over rice.  It wasn’t exactly healthy.

It was maybe a little satisfying to have it come together so nicely.  But I didn’t enjoy it, no.  I don’t like cooking.  I do not.

I picked a good day for it

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I scheduled a spa day (a spa couple of hours, anyway) right in the middle of my vacation, and it was SO good.  I had an 80-minute deep tissue massage, and the people at the spa said to come an hour early with a bathing suit.  That hour was almost better (definitely as good) as the massage.

Except for the first ten minutes.

I spent the first ten minutes in the steam room.  I had never been in a steam room before, and I found out I don’t like it.  It might have been the lavender scent they added.  I love lavender, but it was a bit strong in there with all that steam.  Then again, I might have felt the same way if it was just unscented steam.  I couldn’t take any deep breaths, so I was pretty much incapable of relaxing while sitting in there.  I had to pop out into the hallway twice in those ten minutes just to clear my lungs and breathe.  On top of that, I was wearing my contacts, and they were fogging up, so I kept my eyes closed, except when I was groping for the door to get a breath of air.  Then I’d take a deep breath of dry air, open the door again, and plunge into the steam looking for my towel so I could sit down.  I don’t know why I didn’t just give up.  No one said I HAD to sit in the steam room.  Seems a little obvious now…  Thank goodness I was alone and that it was only ten minutes.  I was already out in the hall when my valet (I had a valet!) came to get me.

Next was a cold (by comparison) shower with nozzles spraying water at me from sides from my ankles to over my head.  Nice change.  Then the sauna.  That I could handle.  I was about ready to take a nap in there.  After the sauna, my valet brought me to the jacuzzi.  It was inside, but one whole wall was glass with a view of the gulf and the beach).  SO nice.  I was happy enough in the jacuzzi, but I had similar breathing problems – too much heat and steam.  Hm.  So maybe an unscented steam room wouldn’t work for me, either.  After maybe another 10 minutes in the jacuzzi, it was time to get in the pool.  Again, comparatively cold water, but this pool started inside and where the jacuzzi had windows, the pool had glass doors that opened to the outside.  I headed there right away.  So I was in this pool, two stories up (maybe three) in this hotel, outside overlooking the beach and the gulf, all by myself.  And as if that’s not cool enough, there was a storm coming in from the southeast.  I could see where the rain started, and I could see it take over the other hotels (you know, when I couldn’t see the hotels further south down the beach anymore).  It was awesome.  I headed in when the rain started to fall on me.  It was time for my massage anyway, which was really really nice, and then I went back out to find Mel (who sat out the rain on her beach chair, under the umbrella).

It was a good day.

I like games

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Because John’s family knows us so well, we got two copies of the game Geek Out for Christmas.  It seems silly to own it twice, so after playing Lords of Waterdeep with Jess and Chuck on New Year’s Eve (good game, lots of fun), we decided to exchange a redundant Geek Out for that one.

lordsofwaterdeep

Well, we haven’t done it yet, but if we make it to the mall soon, we will.  At least a decision was made.  Margaret, when you decide to start your LARPing career, you should aim for the scary dark-elf-type person on the right for your first costume.  I don’t know who she is, but she looks like she could kick some ass.

We haven’t played Geek Out yet, but it’s a trivia game (that can also be played by two people), so maybe we’ll give it a try this weekend.

geekout

It can’t be that hard

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I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but I have been roped into agreeing to do karaoke with coworkers at some future happy hour.  It’s one of those things I can’t really back out of.  I love to sing (haaaaaave you met me?), so I wouldn’t have thought I’d be nervous about this, but I’ve never done karaoke.  I’m more than willing to try it (I think it sounds like fun), but I’m not as comfortable trying it with coworkers.  I like these people, but they’re not my best friends at work.  They’re also not total strangers.  I think I’d be more comfortable in front of total strangers.

Anyway, it’s not that serious, and I’ll manage when the time comes.  That time was supposed to be last night, but the central instigator had to bail (he’d forgotten about his daughter’s Christmas pageant), so I escaped, relieved.  I need more time to figure out what my song possibilities are.  Gotta have options, right?  Now I have more time to overthink this.

Sometimes, they’re really truly asking for it

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I hit someone yesterday.  Lots of times.  With my fists.  He asked me to.  Insisted, in fact.

Oh, hey, background: I’ve been going to the M/W/F boxing class since that first time I went in early August.  I like it.  A lot.  But that’s not where I hit the guy.  I mean, yes, it was in a boxing class, but not that one (because yesterday was Tuesday, not Monday, Wednesday, or Friday).  John and I both go to the  M/W/F class, with this one instructor (Nick), and a fairly stable group of regulars.  John has been going to the T/Th class with a different instructor (Doug), and for a few months now, he’s been the only person there.  (The class is at 5:30am, it’s at the other location, not everyone likes Doug’s teaching style…)  John has basically been training one-on-one with Doug twice a week, and he really enjoys it (now that he’s convinced Doug that he really doesn’t want anything to do with kickboxing).

Too much background?  I like to explain things.

John has told me a lot about Doug, a lot about how his class is very different from Nick’s, and he’s invited me to go along many times, but I didn’t feel ready.  I feel more comfortable now that I have some basics down (kind of), so I decided Tuesday was the day (since Tuesday was Veteran’s Day and I didn’t have to go to work).  The first thing Doug did once it was my turn on the mat (John and I traded rounds with Doug on the mat, and then in the ring) was stick out his chin and tell me to hit him.  My first jab was somewhat tentative.  “No, HIT me.”  So I did.  Right in the mouth.  Doug: “There.  That’s what it feels like.”  Then he put his hands up, and he let me hit him, sometimes blocking, sometimes not.  I think he was trying to get me recognize openings and also stop dropping my right hand (’cause then he’d tap me on right side of my head).  Early on, I hit him with a left hook to the ear, HARD, said, “OH, I’m sorry,” and he said not to worry about it.  That I can’t hit him hard enough to hurt him.  I know I’m new at this, but he says the same thing to John, who has a powerful arm.  And seriously, guys, I landed that one.  ON HIS EAR.  And he didn’t even blink.  His head must be stone.  After that, I got over my fear of hitting him and took him at his word that I couldn’t hurt him.  You want me to hit you?  I’ll hit you.  I’ll try, anyway.

So that was fun.  I’ll go back.  I just don’t know if I can take boxing five days a week.  Plus, if I’m boxing every morning, when will I run?  John hasn’t been running at all, and he’s missing it.  We’ll have to figure this out.

Bathroom tile breaks sometimes

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John and I bought the bathroom tile yesterday morning, and then we spent today actually laying it down.  We have completed a very (very) important step in this mini bathroom remodel.  First, we did the layout.  We needed to know how many whole tiles we could use and how many (and how much) we’d have to cut.

Not sure why we didn’t put that one missing piece in – maybe I figured we had the idea?

From another angle:

Oh, hey, there’s the piece. Camouflage.

Then we picked them all up and started actually setting the tile with mortar and stuff.  I helped (a little).  Once all the whole pieces were down, John started cutting the other pieces to fit and oh dear god that is one of the WORST noises ever in the whole entire world.  Also, one of our three boxes of tile had a whole bunch of tiles that kept breaking and NOT along the line John was trying to cut them.  Very irritating.  And I’m shuddering just remembering the noise of the tile cutter.  My skin is crawling.

Here are all the tiles actually glued down.

All those little spacers kinda make it look like Arlington Cemetery in there.

The only pieces missing are the two up near the shower.  One will be whole, but the other has to be cut in a L shape – that’s going to be difficult.  Almost certainly beyond the capability of our cheap little tile cutter.

Then we’re going to paint (still deciding on a color – suggestions?), put the molding back on, grout, put the quarter-round back on, put the toilet back in, and oh yeah – we still have to buy a replacement vanity and sink.  So it’ll probably be a couple more weekends before we’re done.

Guess who’s trying new things

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John and I started a mini bathroom remodel this morning that is turning out to be a bit more complicated than expected.  Not a lot, and I’m certain it’s still within our capabilities (or John is certain, which is enough for me), but it’ll take a little longer.  I’ll have some pictures tomorrow.  We went to Home Depot this morning to pick up some things and came right home to get started.  There were a few things John had to do that he didn’t need my help with, so I busied myself with the music selection.  I tried a bunch of existing genre stations I wasn’t in the mood for and then decided to create one based on “Modern Nature” by Sondre Lerche (which you may recognize (I know Mom will) as the song played over the credits of Dan in Real Life).  My new station (which is on John’s Pandora account – I’ll have to create it on mine) is AWESOME (in an indie pop/rock kind of way).  And I discovered some songs I like very much.

“Hard Luck Tom” by The Silver Seas

“The Show” by Lenka

“She Moves In Her Own Way” by The Kooks

Trying comics. Again.

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I’ve read The Dark Knight Returns, and I’ve read The Watchmen, and I didn’t really enjoy them.  I’m not saying they’re bad (because they’re not), but maybe I just don’t like reading comics.  Maybe I need more words.

I went to the comic book store with John after we had lunch together on Monday, and I bought TWO comics (or graphic novels – at what point do they become graphic novels instead of comics?).  The guy who works there was so enthusiastic when I asked for help.  I went looking for The New Deadwardians, but I didn’t find it, so I asked, and he put everything on hold (he was ringing up John) to go search for me.  Checked two shelves, no dice, so back to his computer and to a third shelf.  Well, after all that, I HAD to buy it.  (Also, I went looking for it because I think Jess suggested it, and as we all know, I do whatever Jess tells me to do.)  I bought something else the guy suggested, too, but I can’t remember what it is right now, and I can’t muster the energy to get up and look.  Something about being similar to Ocean’s Eleven but stealing a ghost instead of money.

Speaking of doing whatever others tell me to, Mindy thinks I should stop using shampoo.  I’m sure it’s not just me – she probably think everyone should stop using shampoo.  I’m going to see if the organic shampoo I have has those chemicals all the websites say are so awful.  And in the meantime, I’ll THINK about going the baking soda route.  Really.  (I’m spending entirely too much time thinking about my hair.)

The smartphone saga continues

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It feels like it was just yesterday I was listing the problems with my HTC Evo 4G.  Now it’s time to start looking again – my Samsung Galaxy S2 has started acting up.  The battery was really low (close to dead) last night, so I plugged it in next to the bed and set my alarm.  This morning, my alarm didn’t go off.  I picked up my phone to check the time, but the screen wouldn’t come on.  I could see by the indicator light that the phone was still on, but my screen remained black.  I tried unplugging it, which usually triggers the screen.  No screen.  I took the back off and popped the battery out.  Battery back in, push the power button, and there’s my screen!  Of course, it’s going through the power-up process, but at least it’s there.  And it’s been there all day, off and on like it’s supposed to.  The black screen followed by battery thing happened to me a couple of weeks ago, too.  Maybe I just need a new battery, but you know what?  I’m due for an upgrade.  After reading CNET reviews all day, I’ve narrowed down my choices to three: the HTC One, the Samsung Galaxy S4, and the Google Nexus (that John just got).  My work phone is an S4, so I can play with two of the three before I ever set foot in a Sprint store.  If anyone has any advice, I’m all ears.

Mom can’t always be right

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A couple of months ago, I went to my favorite nail salon, and the manicurist talked me into trying gel nail polish on my fingers.  Mom has been talking it up to me for a long time because it doesn’t chip, so it lasts longer, and it looks nicer, and she’s right on all of those counts.  I was going to go bare (just buff up the nails) because I don’t really like color on my nails and clear nail polish chips, and the manicurist said, well, gel doesn’t chip, and it comes in a natural color.  Okay – it’s time to try it.  First, natural my ass.  It was light pink and sparkly.  Pretty, but in no way natural.  Still, it was pretty and light enough not to bother me much.  It dried super quickly (always a plus), and then the lady swiped nail polish remover across the nails and it didn’t come off!  I was impressed, and everything was great for about three weeks.  My nails were growing, but it wasn’t obvious to anyone but me that my nails weren’t all painted anymore.  After that, I was about done with the pink and sparkly and ready to go clear again, so I went back to have the gel polish removed (since I had no idea how to take it off myself).

What Mom neglected to tell me is what a HUGE PAIN it is to have it removed.  You can’t just swipe with some special gel polish remover.  Oh, no.  My nails were wrapped in acetone-soaked cotton and foil for what felt like an hour (and was at least 20 minutes in real time), and then when the manicurist removed the foil and cotton, she still had to chisel away at each nail to get it all off.  It took FOREVER.  I thought it was never going to be over.  And even once the polish was removed, my nails still felt like regular polish was fading and chipping off on its own.  Not a nice feeling.

Conclusion?  No gelicures for me.  No way.  Uh uh.  Sorry, Mom.  Can’t agree with you on this one.

He’s taking advantage of us

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I am now the proud owner of a pair of jazz shoes and a pair of tap shoes because I have signed up for a contemporary jazz class and a tap class (both for beginners because, well, I’m a beginner).  I’m very excited.  The first class is a week from tomorrow.

While I was out shopping for these shoes, John spent the afternoon upstairs with Riley, who still isn’t allowed on the furniture.  The last time we allowed him to sleep on a piece of furniture on a regular basis (a wicker loveseat we kept on the sun porch in our last house almost TEN years ago), he ate it.  Chewed it all to bits ATE it.  So now, Riley isn’t allowed on the furniture, and he knows it.  We know he knows because he never tries to get on the couch or the bed when we’re at home (only when we’re away and he thinks he can get away with it).  Usually.  He’s getting bolder.  Today, with John just across the hall in the office, Riley got on the bed twice.  I guess his dog bed with an old cushy comforter on it isn’t soft enough anymore.  I’ll know he’s made the next logical leap when he tries to get on the bed while we’re still in it.

Goats!

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Did you know goats are evil?  It’s their eyes.  Their eyes give them away.

All of that adorable playing and attention-hogging is just a ruse. What adorable playing?  This adorable playing!  (Please bear with me through this 2-minute video.  They really do do some cute things.)

Clearly, I met some goats last weekend.  And fed them and played with them and picked a favorite.  (Baxter, the brown one, is my favorite.  Dad’s favorite is Bruiser (black with blue eyes).  Trixie wasn’t all that interested in us.)

Baxter: “Whatcha doin’?” Or possibly, “My plan to take over the world begins with you. Look into my eyes so I can take over your brain.”

I shouldn’t try sports that need actual equipment

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Despite my recent enthusiasm for shopping, Black Friday is still something I avoid.  Like the plague.  I have absolutely no interest in dealing with crowds of shoppers, and I think the day after Thanksgiving should be a national day of rest.  I did go to one store.  One superstore.  One store I have no need to ever visit again.  Cabela’s.  It’s a hunting/camping/fishing kind of store.  Like Bass Pro Shop, but with more taxidermied bears.  (I assume.  I’ve never been in a Bass Pro Shop, but it sounds more civilized.)  SO totally not my kind of store.  We tagged along with Emily and her boyfriend (who fishes) because, I guess, family time?  It was…interesting.  Aaaannd we came home with two bows.  With arrows.  Actual bows.  Well, junior bows, like toddler’s first bow.  Kid bows.  And blunt arrows (of course).  We set up cardboard boxes as a target in the backyard and pretended we were Robin Hood or Welsh longbowmen.  And you know what?  It’s kind of hard.  And kind of painful.  I don’t know if I was holding the darn thing wrong or what, but the string kept recoiling against the inside of my left elbow.  Out of 20 or so shots, the string hit me (hard) 3 or 4 times.  After the last one, I was about to start taking bets as to how long it would take before a bruise showed up when I rolled up my sleeve and actually looked at my arm.  That’s when I ended my illustrious career as an archer.  I already had the nastiest bruise I’ve ever seen, and on top of that, there was an egg-sized welt right in the middle.  Even now, three days later, I look like I caught a fast ball with my arm.  (The swelling went down pretty quickly after I iced it.)  So I’m retired now.  No more archery for me.

Best watch ever

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I bought the Garmin Forerunner 210 over the weekend (from my friendly local running store) and finally used it this morning.

It’s awesome.  I got the heart rate monitor, too, so I strapped myself in (watch strap, heart rate monitor strap – any more straps and I wouldn’t need clothes), synced everything up (found my heart, found my satellite), and took off.  I had a great run, but the coolest part about my new watch is that when I uploaded the details to the website (Garmin Connect), I got a whole bunch of neat graphs.

The top one shows how my pace varied over time, and I can tell that the downward spike is at the point where I had to wait a few seconds to cross a street.  The watch calculates all the easy stuff (average heart rate, average pace, stuff like that), but it’s also tracking elevation and calculating calories burned, and the website displays the details per lap (I set it so one lap equals one mile), and it’s just so COOL.

 

My skin is glowing

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I had my first facial ever today.  And a massage.  It was a very nice afternoon.  John got me a Massage Envy gift certificate for those services for my birthday (WAY back in February).  I don’t know why it took me so long to use it.  It was wonderful.  I am seriously considering making this a regular thing. (I like being pampered.)

I had a really annoying song stuck in my head earlier today, and a friend of mine at work asked me which one.  It was “I Love You Like a Love Song” by I don’t know who, and I told him that the part where she goes “beep beep beep beep beep beep” wouldn’t get out of my brain.  I got corrected immediately.  He said it’s by Selena Gomez, and she’s actually saying “repeat repeat repeat” there.  We had a minor battle over who was more embarrassed: me for not knowing the words or him for knowing them AND being able to name the teenybopper who sings them.  I let him win that one (he’s around my age).

Roxy just came over to say hello and would I please give her the crumbs from my sandwich.  At least she said please.  She also told me that I have no unifying theme today, so I should quit now.  Smart dog.

Pastoral fantasy

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John and I live in the middle of suburbia.  The epitome of suburbia.  It really really can’t get more suburban than where we live.  Lots of houses that all look the same, lots of people driving the same kinds of cars along all the same streets to take the same long commute to get to work and back.  When I go for a run in the morning, I’m running by the early-risers and long lines of cars.  There’s one stretch behind the high school where I run in the scraggly grass with the road on my right and the baseball field on my left, and usually I focus on the gradual uphill climb and uneven ground.  The other day I noticed little purple flowers lining the worn path in the grass, lots of little purple flowers, and for just a few seconds, I could ignore the cars zooming by 8 feet to my right and pretend I was running in a mountain meadow full of wildflowers.  It was a nice daydream, even if it didn’t last long.

A couple of days later, I spent a few minutes talking to a trail runner about where he runs and how to get there.  I may end up hating running on uneven ground (or where there may be snakes and other unpleasant things), but it’s something I’d like to try.  I think.

 

Plans

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I like to make plans.  No, that can be stressful.  I like to have plans.  I like to know someone is coming to visit or that we’re going to visit someone or go on a trip.  I like the lists and the anticipation.  I don’t always like having to do all the things on my lists, but having someone come over is often the push I need to get something done.  Like…oh, I don’t know…scrubbing clean the rocking chairs and swing on the front porch.  They are really really dirty, and I would like to be able to use them without covering them with a towel first.

We’re thinking about redoing our guest room.  It kinda sucks as a guest room for more than one person, as many of you know.  We keep two twin beds in there, one trundled under the other most of the time.  When we pull the second bed out, the open floor space completely disappears.  Sure, you can put your suitcase on the floor at the foot of the bed, but you’ll have to leap from the doorway onto the bed to go to sleep.  One twin bed leaves a lot more space, but it’s not very often that we only have one guest at a time.  We’ve talked about replacing the twins with a double bed, but I just did some measuring, and I’m not sure that’s going to work.  If we put it one way, it blocks the closet, another way and it’ll block the door – there are two possibilities left, and I need to really see it before I’ll know if it will work.  I have that problem with spatial…things.  I need to see it all laid out in front of me.  My imagination doesn’t really work with furniture.

Who painted the target on my back?

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I got hacked again this weekend.  Not the website this time, but my email.  I apologize to anyone who was spammed by me early Sunday morning (which appears to be everyone I’ve ever emailed from that account, and I’ve had that account for…15 years (ish), so that’s a lot of people). As soon as I noticed it, I changed my password for every account that uses that password.

Other than that, things are going well (which I feel oddly compelled to tell you as if we just ran into each other after a long break).  My vacation-bred serenity with regard to all things work-related is officially gone, but that only covers a third of my day.

Dude.  I went to a new (to me) salon to get a haircut (freshened the layers, kept the length – hey, this is important stuff) the other weekend.  I was very happy with the haircut, but not 100% sure about the guy who cut it.  He was very good, but kind of standoffish and very disapproving about how long it had been since my last haircut and how very much I don’t like to have to do anything to my hair every day.  And he didn’t talk to me.  So it was a little awkward.  Anyway, you know how I don’t answer any calls unless I know who’s calling?  (Nod.  I’ve said this before.)  Well, I broke my rule.  A local number I didn’t recognize just came up on my cell phone (like in between the two paragraphs up there – totally interrupted whatever boring train of thought I had going on), and I answered it.  The salon I went to is one of 15 in a local chain.  The woman who called me was the owner of the chain.  She said she always calls new clients.  She was super nice, and when she asked me to rate my hair-stylist and I only gave him an 8.5 (based on the vibe), she suggested two other stylists at the same location who might be better for me because “first impressions are important and you should be happy with who does your hair.”  She just found herself a loyal client.

Did I mention that our vacation was beyond fantastic?

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One week ago tonight (plus 5 hours), John and I were in the Royal Shakespeare Theater in Stratford-upon-Avon watching a Shakespeare play performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company.  (That should probably be Royal Shakespeare Theatre…)  It was a last-minute decision.  Mom and Dad spent the day in the cottage and around the village.  John and I took the car to see the ruins of Hailes Abbey (beautiful), and when we realized it was a little too late (nearing 5pm) to see anything else, we decided to head to Stratford-upon-Avon.  We knew we’d get there too late to get into any of the touristy stuff, but we could still go see stuff.  And have tea.  I love having afternoon tea.  We got there right at 5pm (when the attractions were closing), so aside from a quick glance into a gift shop, we only got to see the outside of the birthplace of Shakespeare and that stuff.  We had our tea (a light cream tea – we planned to find dinner somewhere before we headed back to Chipping Campden and Mom and Dad), and we took a walk down Henley Street (with all its closed shops) and eventually found the Avon.  We dawdled there for a while and then noticed the Royal Shakespeare Theatre as we walked by.  The doors were open, we saw books on shelves, and all of a sudden we found ourselves in the gift shop.  Amazing how that works.  We browsed for 20 minutes or so and were on our way out when I suggested we check the box office.  What’s on tonight?  Who cares?  If there are seats available and they’re somewhat reasonably priced, we should stay, right?  Of course right.  So we asked.  Hey, it’s King John.  How much are the tickets?  Only £16 each?  Hey, it starts at 7:30.  What time is it now?  Oh, 7:06?  And we have to move the car?  We can get the car moved in time if we run.  So we ran.  Well, we walked really fast.  Turns out we didn’t have to move the car (just put more money in), so we rushed back, bought our tickets, and sat down just in time for the play to start.

It was really good.  Really good.  And interestingly staged, if that’s the word.  Shakespearean language, contemporary costumes and setting.  And music.  The wedding scene made my whole week.  (“I Say A Little Prayer For You” segued into “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” with the choreography from the end of Dirty Dancing.  SO.  MUCH.  FUN.)

One of many pictures of Hailes Abbey. Also, proof of the beautiful weather we had most of the week.

Hamlet says hello. Or, you know, "Alas, poor Yorick."

I didn't have the foresight to get a picture of the whole building...

...but I did get a shot of the books that lured us in.

I might be the only who’d pay to see this movie

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I think I just joined a book club.  I went Friday night to my neighbor’s book club to meet people, drink wine, and talk about The Snow Child (we certainly talked about it, but that was far from the main event).  There were 9 other women there, and all of them have known each other for a long time, so I wasn’t sure how this was going to go.  Four people in this group started the book club FOURTEEN years ago (one of them is my neighbor), and three of those four (the three who are not my neighbor) have known each other since high school (which for me was 15 years ago, so longer than that for them.  I think).  Thankfully, it was not at all awkward.  They were so welcoming, really friendly, and despite the fact that I was the only one there who does not work for a local school district in any capacity and who doesn’t have kids, I didn’t feel like an outsider.  It was fun.  Really pleasant.  I’d like to do it again.

It could have been a movie.  All of these women, all gorgeous in cute but casual clothes, clustered in ever-changing groups around the island in our hostess’s beautiful kitchen, chatting, drinking wine, snacking.  I can just see a camera swooping in from an upper angle and swirling around to follow snippets of conversations.  Later, the camera would follow our move to the family room to talk about the book.  We sat in a circle around the coffee table (some on the floor, on the couch, on ottomans), and the camera would shift from the middle of the group to an over-the-shoulder shot and back until it lifts out of the center and off to the side.

I think I’ve already seen this movie.