What am I missing?

5 Comments

You know what I don’t understand?  Vests.  Not the sweater vest or leather vest (although those, too).  I’m talking about outerwear here.  The puffy kind or the quilted kind – it doesn’t matter.

puffy vest

quilted vest

I don’t understand the point.  Under what circumstances would I want warmth and protection from the elements for my body but not my arms?  My arms get just as cold, if not colder, than the rest of me.  I guess I’ve just never been in the right situation, but I really cannot imagine what that situation might be.  When I run in the cold, I certainly start out in need of body and arm warmth, and I’ve never felt that my arms warm up before the rest of me.  When it’s time to lose the outer layer (if I ever warm up that much), it’s not just my arms that are overheated.  And I’ve really never had hot arms just walking around outside.  The whole idea sounds ridiculous.

Is this a fashion thing I don’t understand?  ‘Cause there are lots of those.  I mean, check this one out:

riding

Does this one even close, tiny as she is?  And what’s up with those gloves?  Honestly – I need someone to explain this to me.  The whole vest thing, not just the oddity in that last picture.

THIS

Leave a Comment

This is how I’m supposed to be living.  (Sometimes.)  Our open house this week was from 11-1 (our agent got someone to cover for him instead of totally flaking), so John and I headed to a nearby historic district to hang out in a coffee shop/cafe.  We sat at a counter that used to be a shoe shine stand in the front window, ate English muffins, and I had the best chai latte I’ve ever had.  It was a little loud, but you know, Sunday morning coffee and brunch crowd – I don’t know anywhere we could go for coffee that time of morning on a Sunday and not find a ton of people. We were lucky to find this unoccupied counter space at all.

It was so nice and pleasant on a chilly, overcast November morning.  Lots of people walking by with dogs and kids.  People wearing cute coats.  (I can feel the urge to shop coming on.  Must step away from the computer.)

Don’t fence me in

Leave a Comment

Yesterday, I thought I was going to have to return a horse to its owner.  The trail I run on (when I run, which has not been all that often lately) is paved, but there’s a gravel path that runs along a lot of it.  It has more ups and downs, and I don’t usually run on it, but you can see it and the people on it for the most part.  Yesterday, I was running along a stretch where there’s an animal hospital on the far side of the gravel path.  I glanced over to check for horses (they have a small fenced arena), and hey – I saw one.  Outside the fence.  It was on the gravel path.  BY ITSELF.  No bridle, no saddle, just a horse, happily munching on some grass.  There was a woman heading in to the animal hospital when I got there, so I checked with her.

“Excuse me – did you know there’s a horse loose over there?”

“Yeah, he belongs to the neighbors.  They do that sometimes.”

“Do we need to tell them?”

“Nah.  They probably know.”

Okay, then.  I guess the neighbors felt the horse could be trusted not to wander off…  He certainly paid no attention to me as I went by.  It’s still weird.  I live in suburbia, not farm country.  This horse was not far off from standing on a sidewalk in front of a house in some development.  I wouldn’t mind living in farm or horse country, but horses don’t exactly roam free out there, either.  Fences, people.

Common courtesy

1 Comment

Is it so unusual for people who are selling their houses to actually be living in them?  To actually request a heads up before someone comes to see the house, particularly if it’s a weekend or an evening?  I mean, we make plans, too.  We eat meals, we shower – we’d like to be sure that we and the house are ready.  I imagine most people selling a house are in the same boat.  But every agent who calls to set up a showing seems surprised and put out that we live there.  We ask for a window of time when they expect to show up so we can make sure we’ll be there or that the house is ready.  We have NEVER said no – we’ve always managed to accommodate them.  And then they so rarely actually show up during that window.  TWICE an agent has called to say they’re running late and/or not coming, and we think they’re angels for doing that.  That’s how low the bar is right now.

Yesterday, an agent called to set up a showing  between 11 and noon this morning (Saturday).  No problem.  We were ready at 11.  It’s 12:30 now.  Around 12:15, I called her to see if 1) they’re still coming, and 2) if she could give us an idea when that might be.  I’m always super nice about that call – I get that they’re looking at a lot of houses and a schedule is hard to keep to.  So they’re still coming, and she thinks it’ll be near 1.  We’ll see.  A courteous person would have noticed the time (maybe around 11:45), realized they weren’t going to make the window, and called us first to let us know and see if we could wait or arrange another time.  OF COURSE, we’re going to be accommodating – we want to sell our house.  Just, you know, CALL us to let us know you’ll be late.

I know not all real estate agents are pushy and rude and inconsiderate (they just can’t ALL be like that),  but it seems like those who aren’t are in the minority.  A very small minority.  Where are they?

Support your local muppets

Leave a Comment

I found how muppets earn extra cash!  If they live in this area (and many others), second jobs may be necessary.  In their off-hours, when they’re not taking Manhattan, capering, or hanging out with kids (none of which pays much, I’d imagine), they’re washing cars!

Tell me those brushes couldn’t be the cousins of these guys…

Yiiiiiip yip-yip-yip-yip

I would TOTES* pay more for car washes if the muppets sang me a song while they did it.  In the meantime, this will have to do.

*I apologize for my unironic use of “totes”.  I got carried away by my enthusiasm for muppets.

Hours of amusement!

1 Comment

I haven’t had much time to play on the internet lately (very sad for me), but not working on Tuesday gave me a chance to browse Reddit.  I saw a hilarious picture of a church that looks like a chicken (posted by Reddit user Chillypow)…

…and followed the link to the BEST SUBREDDIT EVAR!!!1!  The title on the page is “Pictures of things that look like other things”, and the pictures are mostly of inanimate objects with faces.  CUTE faces.  Call it a mood-lightener.  I can now browse pleasantly amusing (and amusingly captioned) pictures to my heart’s content.  Like this one (posted by Reddit user Dewdeaux).

These chairs just found out they’re being auctioned tomorrow.

This is what the internet is good for.

Sometimes, they’re really truly asking for it

2 Comments

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.

Painful chocolatey goodness

Leave a Comment

We woke up Sunday morning with nothing in the house for breakfast (not unusual, as I’m sure you’re aware).  We debated the usual breakfast options (Panera vs. Starbucks, most of the time), and then one of us (can’t remember which one of us – might have been me) suggested Cocoa Puffs.  I love Cocoa Puffs.  Decision made.  We went to the store solely for milk and cereal.  (We were not about to be distracted by anything with any nutritional value.)

What I had forgotten about Cocoa Puffs, right up until the first spoonful, was that they kind of hurt.  They’re really rough on the roof of your mouth.  Totally worth it, though.  So good and chocolately and they turn the milk into chocolate milk!  It’s great.  So I hunkered down mentally and enjoyed my Cocoa Puffs.  The roof of my mouth had time the rest of the day to settle down.  Until the first crouton on the caesar salad I had for dinner that night.  Oops.  And ouch.

Flaky agent

1 Comment

We like our real estate agent, mostly.  He’s a little odd, but in an interesting way, and he talks too much (when we get back from being out during an open house, we want you to go home so we can relax), but he’s nice, and he’s giving us a discount, and he’s doing the hard part of selling our house for us (except that he hasn’t sold our house yet).

HOWEVER

At least three times (I think four, but I can only think of the reasons he gave for three), he has flaked on us for an open house.  The first time, his mom broke her leg, and he was the son in charge of getting her to the hospital and helping out. We totally get it, sorry it happened, do what you need to do, we’ll do the open house ourselves.  No problem.  The second time is the one I don’t remember the reason for.  The third time was two weeks ago.  I got a text 45 minutes before the open house was supposed to begin saying that he was stuck in traffic in Maryland and would get there as soon as he could.  Then he didn’t respond to my next text, and he didn’t answer when I called.  So we started the open house ourselves, and when it was halfway over, I texted him again to tell him to just skip it – go home.  He didn’t respond.  Later, we got an email about the horrendous traffic and how he’s so sorry and blah blah.  Sure, things happen.  But seriously?  Where the hell was he exactly, and why stop responding to me?  The fourth time was today.  About 90 minutes before the open house was scheduled to start, I got a text from him saying his dad is having chest pains and he’s going to the hospital to be there for him.  My response, again, is of course, I hope he’s okay, do what you need to do, we’ll handle the open house ourselves.  No response.  And we haven’t heard from him since.

So what’s going on?  We’re no longer certain when he’s being truthful.  Are these excuses to not do the open houses?  We’ve told him we understand if he doesn’t want to do it every single weekend.  He could get someone to cover for him (which he’s done once) or we could take a week off.  He’s the agent – what should we do?  He says keep doing them.  Okay, then.  He keeps sign in sheets when he does show up for them, but we never see them (we haven’t asked yet), and it seems like every week, 5-6 people come through (so he tells us when we get home).  But on those occasions when we do the open houses, we get one person.  Maybe two (it was two today).  So how is he always getting 5-6 people in?  Last week, he did the open house, and he said only two people came, so that felt true (even if it sucks).  Are the other times exaggerations?  Or the truth?

I’m a winner!

3 Comments

You are reading the blog of an award-winning photographer!  Well, “award”…no, it’s an actual award.  See?

Don’t let the blue color fool you, though.  There were 12 winners, and the judges refused to give us our rankings.  We had a photo contest at work, and the 12 pictures that got the most votes will be put into next year’s calendar.  Everyone at work will get one.  So, while I won, I was one of 12, and I may very well have been 12th of 12.  I know I got at least two votes (mine and Chastity’s).  Also, there were only 18 or 19 submissions, so….I’m saying I’m taking this award with a grain of salt.  🙂  There were some very nice pictures in competition.

This is the village of La Rocque Gageac, along the Dordogne River.

You like?  I bet you all would have voted for me.

What does a healthy diet look like again?

Leave a Comment

I haven’t exactly been eating right lately.  Part of that is due to lack of groceries (maybe most of it), part of it is laziness (okay, that’s most of it).  We didn’t buy any candy for Halloween last week, but we DID pick some up Sunday afternoon.  We are now the proud owners of a giant bag of peanut butter cups and KitKats.  A half-empty giant back of chocolate and peanut butter candy.  That was dinner last night (for me – I think John might have eaten something more substantial), and it was most of my dinner the night before, too.  But hey, it’s not all chocolate all the time.  I had a salad Monday night, and another one for lunch Tuesday.  Oh, hell.  I know I need to go to the store.

 

I’ve made no promises!

Leave a Comment

I just checked, and it turns out I didn’t actually publicly declare my intention to post something here every day in November (my version of NaNoWriMo, which, turns out, is an actual thing, as I discovered by reading Ms. Wombat’s blog).  And it’s good that I didn’t publicly declare my intention because I’ve already failed, having skipped Sunday the 2nd.  So let’s just say I didn’t even privately declare any such intention and move on.  Nothing to see here.  Except when I post something.  Which will happen every once in a while.  “Every once in a while” might look a bit like “every day”, but let’s not raise expectations.  Expectations lead to obligation.  I don’t want any more obligations.

Making an effort to relax (Is that an oxymoron?) (YOU’RE an oxymoron.)

Leave a Comment

I don’t want to be stressed.  So I’m declaring the house a stress-free zone.  (We’ll ignore the fact that the house is part of the problem.)  I don’t want to mix home-time with the outside world.  I’d like to come home and just relax.  If it’s not in the house, I don’t want to think about it.  Tonight has been a good start.  John was home when I got home, and we sat down to eat.  Watched an hour of TV, and now we’re listening to classical music and playing on our laptops at the dining room table.  Bedtime is not far off (tomorrow morning starts at 4:45), and tomorrow night I might try going back to yoga.  I want time that is quiet and peaceful and smells like lavender.  (I always want to spell “lavender” like “calendar”, but I get to the -dar at the end, realize it’s wrong, wonder why it’s wrong, change it, and move on.  Every time.)

If I have to deal with winter (it got dark so EARLY), I want my winter to be warm and cozy and quiet and relaxing and you know, since our house isn’t selling, that doesn’t seem like too much to ask.  I want to stay HOME.

If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door

Leave a Comment

I saw a girl wearing a TARDIS dress at the movies last night.

Immediate reaction: “That’s cool.”

Follow-up: “I wonder why she’s wearing it.  There’s nothing Doctor Who-related going on at the theater tonight.”

Realization hits: “Oooooohhhhh.  It’s Halloween.  Right.”

I told her I liked her dress.

I think I want one.

Boycott

Leave a Comment

We’re going to boycott Halloween this year.  (This’ll be the first year little kids will come to our door and not get all excited about the “Doggies!”)  Shouldn’t be hard, considering we haven’t decorated or bought any candy.  Rather than sit in a dark house (which would be kinda spooky, actually) and pretend we’re not home, we’re going to the movies so as to actually not be home (leaving a dark house to creep out the neighbors).

I’m in avoidance mode.

 

I hope I still have friends

1 Comment

I have a list called “Don’t be a jerk”, and all of the items on it are people I need to email.  People I WANT to email.  People I like, people I like to talk to.  People I am NOT currently talking to because, obviously, I’m a jerk.  And I need reminding so that I will not act like one.  I am slowly working my way through this list.  And yes, YOU are on it.  Because I like you and I don’t want to be a jerk to you.  Any more.  (And I’m sorry.)  And perhaps I should stop writing here and start writing that email to you.  Hm, yes.  Good idea.

P.S. I’m using Google Keep for my lists.  I like it.

I don’t know how to say this

5 Comments

It’s hard to write posts like this (she says, having only written one other one ever – hey, it was hard that time, too).  I’ve been avoiding it, although you probably couldn’t tell because it looked a lot like not posting and I’ve been doing a LOT of that lately.  So much so that I wouldn’t be surprised if no one reads this.  Which would be okay, I guess.  And only fair.

Riley is no longer with us.  We said goodbye last Saturday morning (the 18th).

The house is much quieter now.

Good start

2 Comments

Today is going to be a good day.  It’s nice and cool, perfect weather for running.  I ran three miles, listening to Welcome to Night Vale for most of it.  When the episode ended, I switched to music since I don’t have the next Night Vale yet, and one of the last songs I heard as I pushed to the end was “Waiting for a Star to Fall” by Boy Meets Girl, which I LOVE.  Always have.  So yay happy song, right?  I got home, put Riley’s collar on (making him a happy dog – yay for a walk), and as we left the house, “Mr. Blue Sky” came on.  Super yay happy song!  So I was singing along as we headed up the hill, and Riley seemed to be doing well, and really, how could the morning be better?  The answer, apparently, is to follow ELO with some Queen, since “Hammer to Fall” came on next.  Now I’m home, stretching (and typing), all smiles, and today is going to be okay.

Speaking of music, we saw Guardians of the Galaxy Saturday night (liked it a lot) – the soundtrack is fantastic.

“Waiting for a Star to Fall” , Boy Meets Girl

“Mr. Blue Sky”, ELO

“Hammer to Fall”, Queen