I thought I looked really good tonight, but David didn’t say anything. So I ate a lot of cheese.
And obviously the title of this post reflects the opposite of its content.
Leave a CommentCategory: Personal Anecdote
I still haven’t acquired a chai latte. And my fitbit tracker is not maintaining its charge. So even though I’ve exercised this morning, I have no blinking lights to assure me I was actually exercising. And perhaps a foreboding harbinger of the progress congress will make today, my morning constitution was questionable, at best.
UPDATE: I have acquired a chai latte. We can close this chapter in our blog.
Leave a CommentI’ve spent a lot of time thinking this past month, and most of this thinking has been about buying a chai latte from Starbucks. Every morning I declare, “This will be the day!” And every evening I reflect, “This was not the day.” Then I look to the heavens and whisper, “Tomorrow.”
There are a lot of good reasons to not buy the beverage:
1) Calories
2) Cost
3) Time implications
And there are a lot of good reasons to buy the beverage:
1) Want
2) Once acquired, can move on to new dreams
Even though there are less items on list two, the two items are very powerful and outweigh the others heavily. So: This will be the day.
Leave a CommentBig news friend! I have signed up for a sketch writing workshop. It’s my first sketch writing workshop, so I’m not sure how to pack. I’ve set aside a really nice empty notebook, free of any cluttered previous thoughts, made of 100% recycled paper. I also wrote down the directions to the venue.
I’m going to pack a pen. Wait, no, two pens. A red pen and a black pen, so that I can red-line my own notes. I will also pack a mechanical pencil, in case my pens run into any kind of pen shenanigans. I hope no one asks if I have an extra pen to borrow, because I will be forced to either
a) Say yes, and compromise my infallible note-taking strategy
b) Say no, and create mild discomfort when I start switching between my red and black ink pens and my unprepared classmate takes notice
I think I will also pack bottled water, because hydration is key.
Next blog post: a sketch!
Leave a CommentOne of my favorite shows right now is Girls on HBO. It’s about twentysomethings in New York City. The dialogue is sharp and the story lines are astute, but really every episode could consist of all the characters yelling, “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” at each other, and the show would be equally astute. My twenties weren’t as dramatic as theirs is, and fortunately my love life wasn’t as complicated, but the perpetual state of frustrated confusion was certainly there.
As I close the door on my twenties, I’m still unclear on what I am supposed to be doing, but I am a little more comfortable with the tenuous state of affairs because lots of people still don’t know either.
Leave a CommentToday I threw caution to the wind and put two items of clothing in the dryer. The instructions advised line drying.
What inspired such reckless behavior, you wonder. Well let me tell you.
The two items of clothing were “lounge wear.” So they were casual attire. I never fathomed that clothes designed for comfort or exercise would have finicky washing instructions. And today when I was doing laundry and saw the label, I was at first flabbergasted.
“Line dry?! Cool iron if needed?! You are a hoody!”
Then I stared at the hoody. “Why stop there? Why not dry clean only, your highness?”
So I gave it some further thought: if these lounge clothes could not sustain a journey through the dryer, they had no place in my wardrobe which is already too full of high maintenance clothes. I debated returning them to the store. Then I had an inspired idea: I would put the clothing through a trial by ordeal. The Gods would determine their true merit.
I washed them with like colors, and then when the time came, I put them both into the dryer on tumble dry. But that didn’t dry anything. So then I added time and changed the temperature to medium heat. When the wash was done, I would know whether they could be a part of my closet team.
They both shrunk. So, the moral of this story is to check washing instructions before buying an item of clothing.
Leave a CommentI can’t be sure, but I strongly suspect the necklace I’m wearing today has become sentient. Let me explain. This morning I was debating whether or not to wear the silver necklace. I haven’t worn it for over a year, and that I even thought to wear it today was quite the peculiarity.
Anyway, I reached for the ziplog bag it usually rests in and was surprised to see that the ziplock was not closed. Rather the necklace was peaking out of the lock as though it already had its own plans this morning to exit. I didn’t think much of this at the time and put the necklace over my head.
I then walked over to a mirror to evaluate my ensemble selection for the day. Upon immediately deciding the necklace would not do, I reached to pull it over my head only to find that in the two steps between putting on the necklace and finding a mirror, the necklace had managed to entangle itself in my hair!
“I guess you get to stay on me today you devious necklace.” I said.
I then decided it wouldn’t be lady-like to have the necklace stuck in my hair, so I continued to attempt to disentangle it at the very least. Within seconds of declaring I would keep the necklace on, the necklace seemed to release my hair strands from its persuasive grasp and endear itself to me for being reasonable.
Now I sit here, content with my decision to wear this necklace today but slightly uneasy that the decision was not entirely mine.
One CommentI don’t want to come out and say “I LOVE SCRAPBOOKING,” but I do feel like it’s appropriate to acknowledge scrapbooking as a legitimate art form that is going to be really influential in the coming decade.
You’re probably nodding your head energetically in agreement and whispering, “What of inspiration boards? What is your vision for how they will shape future generations?!”
Let us hope they play no role in shaping future generations. I only see chaos and despair when I look upon inspiration boards.
You see, once, in the fifth grade, I took a giant white poster board and taped it to my wall. The next day, I crafted the most beautiful glittery, purple grapes using only play-doh and glitter. It was truly stunning. Such craftsmanship from a 10 year old was unprecedented; the grapes and their stem were so masterfully shaped. I pasted the grapes to the white poster board, in the lower right hand corner. Every day I aspired to make something that could be glued next to the grapes, and every day I failed. I searched magazines for imagery that would make sense on the board. Nothing fit. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and years later I tore up that giant white poster board with nothing but the glittery play-doh grapes glued to it, because all it did was serve as a haunting reminder to 13-year-old-me that I peaked as an artist at the ripe age of 10.
Leave a CommentI was a little surprised by how affected I was by the Downton Abbey season 3 finale. I actually called Mummy this morning and shrieked, “Don’t bother watching that series Mummy! It will win your heart and then shatter it into pieces! It can only bring unhappiness!”
Fortunately a little Internet research helped explain why the writers did what they did. The Internet also helped me remember that the characters of Downton Abbey are fictional. So, you can’t control my emotions anymore, Downton Abbey. I’m rebuilding my emotional fortress so that never again will a television show so masterfully manipulate me into loving it. Never. Again.
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