Oh damn, I did it.

Yes, I am awesome. This is my final blog entry for November and I managed to post every freaking day this month. It was a lot of fun and got me back in the swing of the blog thing. Amusingly, I forgot to actually add myself to the NaBloPoMo blogroll, so I get no official credit for completing it, BUT I DID. You know it and I know it and that's all that matters, really.

I am currently dealing with a serious case of the Mondays and only my giant new TV can cure me. Oh, and beer. Beer can cure me. Maybe.

Because they didn't have a Swirly-Eyed Crazy section.

Hey! This one almost didn't get posted because today at 6pm I was reaching into the fridge to pull out the makings of dinner when everything went dark. I froze like you do when the power suddenly goes out, as if freezing in place might trick electricity into thinking time had stopped for a second and now it's time to power back up. It didn't work.

We went outside and the whole neighborhood was dark so we sat on the porch for a while like a couple of yokels and looked at the sky. Meanwhile, dinner wasn't going to make itself so we decided to go out to eat. Afterwards we wandered over to the book store where I amused myself in highly mature ways:

Good night!

Saturday night. Yeah.

Hey! I have friends coming over for dinner soon, so I'm just going to fake my way through this and show you my panic-cleaned house via shitty iPhone photos:





I didn't take more pictures of the TV (aka My Precious) but it was hard, very hard, to resist. Do you know how amazing HD is when you've never had it? We're like cavemen with a shiny spoon.

Have a good night!

Black (market) Friday

So, I didn't do it. I didn't stand in line at 3am (IN THE POURING RAIN) to buy a shitty $250 TV. Instead, I slept until 8:45am and then got up and ate a leisurely breakfast with my husband. Then we sauntered over to Target to buy a 37" Vizio they had on sale (not a Black Friday sale, just a sale-sale) but duh, they were gone. All of them. Every stupid TV.

I was not in the best mood, especially after feeding my out-of-town family's cats who'd managed to pee, poop and throw up all in one room. Those cats are fired. (Molly, your cats were lovely, just FYI.)

My lovely husband is a problem solver, though, and highly motivated to get me out of grumpy bitch mode, so he checked Craigslist and LO. There was a 37" secondhand Vizio for sale. He emailed the seller and this was the back seat of my car an hour later:


SERIOUS. Our old lemon was quickly dethroned:


We tried out the HD capabilities by watching Casino Royale which is the best possible thing we could watch because certain key parts of that movie definitely need to be highly defined. I tried to take a picture, but it didn't work. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Good night!

Thanky.

Ah, Thanksgiving. It was pretty good - nobody cried and there were only mild misunderstandings. We were all thankful and stuff. My neighbor across the way should be extra thankful that I didn't break his damn noise-polluting leafblower over his head, for one. I'll post photos of the gathering tomorrow, but was good to see everyone and a nearly-nine-year-old beat the crap out of me at Connect Four. I wasn't letting her win or anything, she soundly kicked my ass. Kids today. What can you do?

After that Kenny and I skittered home and forced ourselves to go on a mountain bike ride because the Sun! Was! Out! It would have been illegal not to have taken advantage. We were way over-stuffed and mostly just wanted to take naps but we forced ourselves out. I'm really glad we did because MF it is RAINING AGAIN. I SWEAR TO GOD. Punchline: thunderstorm. What is that?

I took my little iPhone with me and we took a nice long break in the woods to take goofy photos:

I'm sad because the swamp is prettier than me:

Kenny did three wheelies and this was the best I could do at capturing the action:


I made fun of this one for the whole rest of the ride but it was so funny I felt I should share it anyway:

I mean, what the hell is going on here? What am I posing for? Dumbass Bike Weekly?

Wha?


Then the sun set so we went home and commenced to drinking. The End.

Wah. Wah.

Today was supposed to be a fun, easy day off. I remember two years ago when I had the Wednesday off before Thanksgiving and it was 80 degrees and sunny and I went mountain biking. Fuck that day, seriously. I've had about as much grey sky and drizzle as I can handle at this point. I'm vitamin D deficient. I'm going to start munching on fish oil pills if the sun doesn't come out soon.

So today was a catch up day - house cleaning, errands, gym, more gym, more errands. I had an appointment with one of the coaches at the school where I work. He lifts weights and I wanted him to check out what I was doing and help me improve my form. It was fine (ugh, overhead squats) but at one point his girlfriend, who I'd never actually met, wandered over and just stood there watching. Hi, AWKWARD.

Add to that 800 stressy emails from my mom about tomorrow. Just know this: an 18 pound turkey. I have to go over at 8am to help put that thing in the oven. So happy about that. I hope she likes bedhead and a bad attitude because I have both and they ARE FREE.

Did y'all know I'm on Twitter? Yeah, I caved. My friend Palinode who is Canadian, posted this on Twitter:


I have been reading Thanksgiving tweets for a solid week. When the hell do you people actually eat your turkey?

My response (spelling corrected because I can):

We eat after the traditional screaming fight with mom and drink a bottle of wine mid-day because fuckin' YAY, it's a holiday.


That about sums it up.

Under the wire.

Man, I'm tired. I had a really long day and I was about to go to bed when I remembered I hadn't updated today. I went to a funeral for my father's favorite cousin, a nice man who died too young from cancer. It was out of town so my father and I were gone for most of the day. It was sad and tiring (and cold and raining, naturally) but I'm really glad I went. I don't know that side of my family very well, but still, family. It's weird to me that I'm related to people I don't really know, but they're so kind and seemed happy to see us.

One of my second(?) cousins is working on the geneology and has emailed with my sister about it. She wants us to get together soon, which I think we should. I'd like to feel more connected to the part of my past I don't know much about.

Sorry, this isn't very interesting but it was an introspective kind of day.

I Haz Awesome.

Life, Love and Wine gave me a nice blogger award just for being awesome. I don't know about all that, but thank you, Jen! It made for a nice Monday morning.

The rules of this award are:

1. Thank whoever gave you the award.

2. Copy and post the award to your blog.

3. Tell your readers 7 things they don't know about you.

4. Give the award to 7 bloggers.

5. Keep being awesome.

So, #1 is complete. Here is #2:


#3: Seven Things You Don't Know About Me (except I've already told you guys everything so you probably know this stuff already. Let's pretend.)

1. Lady Elaine scared the CRAP out of me when I was a kid. I mean, what the fuck?


2. I hate camping. I hate the idea of camping. I hate the reality of camping. No amount of s'mores and beer will ever make me want to camp.

3. The dress I'm wearing today makes me look like an Oompa Loompa. Guess I know why it was on that 70% off rack at Target, huh.

4. Nearly two years of heavy weight training and I still can't do a pull up. Not even close.

5. We've lived in our house for five years and still have no curtains in the living room. At this point its pathological.

6. I cannot get enough of Lev1 Johnston. Stop foaming at the mouth and listen for a second. He is exactly what we need to counteract the horror that is P@lin, because every time she tries to make us think she's just a down-home soccer mom, he'll say something that just blows her charade right apart. Plus, he's just such an enormous doofy hick. I'm sure Sarah just hates him. Therefore, I love him.

7. I don't find Jon Hamm all that attractive. Don Draper, on the other hand...


Here is #4 (sort of. I ran out of steam):

Sara! My sister from another mother.

My sister. She will beat me with her fists if I don't award her. But she is awesome either way.

Kathy is a damn good writer and a fine lunch companion. I'll admit I love her dating stories the most.

I love Out of Character for it's every day hilariousness. She doesn't update enough (STRONG HINT.)

I found out about Edith Zimmerman from Sara and this blog is made from pure awesome.

So now all I have to do is keep being awesome. This is no problem at all.

I'm tired of 95

We had a great time at the party last night and I had fun today at IKEA with my sister, but I am really really freaking tired of being on 95. That was a lot of driving for one weekend. These weekend entries are killing me, so instead of a bunch of filler words, I'll give you filler photos instead. I'm not a fan of posting photos of people I barely know without permission, so I'm leaving out a bunch of party shots Kenny took. Kate and Justin will just have to suck it though, because this photo of them is great:

And look at the view from our friend's balcony!

Pretty food bits:

A shot of the library they built in the back bedroom:

Me, not quite drunk yet:

Fun! And now the weekend is over. Boo.

Quick and dirty.

We are headed up to Northern Virginia today to go to a party celebrating a friend's marriage so I wanted to post something in case we didn't get back in time. So here it is! Totally nothing. But, I'll take some pictures and shit and maybe post more later this evening. We'll see.

Tomorrow I'm off to IKEA with my sister, so there's that as well. Pictures! Shopping! Intrigue!

Later.

It's Friday! I like stuff!

Blanchard's Coffee. This is a local roaster who's product is my life blood. They sent me a little email recently about some holiday offerings and one of them was this: the Project: ORIGIN gift basket. Part of the proceeds go to help the coffee farmers who work so hard to provide the beans of joy. The basket includes Blanchards coffee beans, a Project: ORIGINS t-shirt, and the best part, a TINYSAUR. My friend Kelly makes the Tinysaur kits so you're also supporting her as an artist when you buy this awesomeness.

(Sisters of mine: do not buy for Dad. Way ahead of you.)

Beautycrunch.com. I am a fan of expensive makeup, especially expensive makeup at a steep discount. I have bought a bunch of great Stila products dirt cheap! It makes me happy. Here's a tip: if you create an account you get to see a more stuff that's hidden from the random browser.

(Younger sisters of mine: if you see something you want for christmas, now is the time to let me know.)


Yee-Haw. This etsy shop is KILLING ME DEAD. In a good way. There are no words, just clicketyclick.

SERIOUSLY OH MY GOD:



I am foaming at the mouth, you guys. FOAMING.

(People of mine: if you see something you want for Christmas, now is the time to let me know. This would also be a great place to find ME a gift. Just saying.)

Introverts Unite! Just not together.

I know I've talked about being an introvert before. I am the kind of girl who sits quietly in front of a computer all morning and then to recover, goes to the library to read on my lunch break. It's not that I don't like people, I'm just pretty happy being alone.

I don't write about work much, but I think I might also have mentioned that back in the spring our department was condensed into one smaller shared space. I now have a corner desk that faces the wall and my boss and coworker sit behind and on the other side of a cube wall from me. I really like both of them, but man, it is too close for comfort. I hear every phone conversation, ever crinkle of paper, every. thing. I don't want to know this much about the people I work with! I really don't. It's hard facing the wall too because folks come in the door and walk right up behind me and sometimes I don't hear them until I feel a hovering presence and that makes me want to punch noses. Or cry, or something.

Yesterday we all went out to lunch and by sheer dumb unluck got sat next to the table with the screeching child and behind the large group with no Inside Voice. The wall of sound around me was so overwhelming that I put my head on the table for a second. I just couldn't tune it out enough to even focus on the menu.

I was talking about it last night with Kenny because he used to deal with a similar situation at work and he's like me, totally fine with saying good morning and other pleasantries, but then could you just shut the fuck up for a while? PLEASE. I told him I'd prefer to have a desk that was on an island, in a cave, or just tucked away in some quiet hidey hole that nobody can find. The nook under the stairwell perhaps.

But, Kenny who knows me really well said that no place would be quiet enough and eventually something would twist me. And he's right. I'd be all, WHAT IS THAT INFERNAL TICKING NOISE. *stomps on watch* AND THAT HUMMING NOISE. *smashes light fixture* AND WHY CAN I HEAR BREATHING *strangles self*

Lalala, it's fun being a weirdo. Now, can you please stop clicking your pen?

Nerding Out.

I've been a little wistful this week because I'm reading two really good books and have been missing my lunchtime reading sessions. Don't get me wrong, the lunch plans I made instead were super fun and I wouldn't trade lunch with a friend for an hour of reading, but man, both these books are in my head, poking, poking, poking at me. That's when you know you have a good one, when it pokes at you. It's like having a crush, where it's always in the back of your mind and you get a little frisson of excitement at the thought of seeing it again. Yeah, I'm a book nerd. Or, I should say, I'm a story nerd. I love a good story and I love books and words and everything related. Amusingly, both these books are nerd heaven:

The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. This one is a story-within-a-story about a young woman writing the biography of a famous and eccentric author. It's SO good, y'all. That's my review so far. I'm trying to read it slowly because I don't want it to end. Also, like Her Fearful Symmetry (which I wrote about recently) it's got a great creepy twin element going on.

The Broken Teaglass by Emily Arsenault. This is kind of a mystery and also a book for word-lovers - it's about a couple of lexicographers who stumble upon mysterious cits that seem to tell a story about a murder. But the origin of the cits, a book called The Broken Teaglass, doesn't exist! Ooooo...NERD MYSTERY. I love it. I also want to be a lexicographer now because I can't imagine a better job for an introvert than one that involves analyzing words for use in a dictionary all day. Rock star, that's me.

Please excuse me while I act like a girl for a second.

Okay, shit. I have been sort of laissez faire about my diet lately and sadly a good workout ethic is just not cutting it anymore. Surprise! I really can't eat whatever I want and not gain weight. Ugh, so I weighed myself this morning and then I sort of fell out and had an internal tantrum and vowed to get back on it. BACK ON IT. Here is what my good day of eating was going to be:

planned breakfast: old fashioned oatmeal with fruit, coffee.

actual breakfast: old fashioned oatmeal with fruit, coffee, Kashi waffle, Morningstar sausage. (It was good, too.)

planned morning snack: plain greek yogurt with fresh apple bits

actual morning snack: one third of a horrible lardy pastry brought in by a well-meaning co-worker. (I didn't want to be rude.)

planned lunch: sushi

actual lunch: sushi...the kind with tempura shrimp. Also, the kind with cream cheese. And avocado. There was some fish in there too, I'm pretty sure.

planned afternoon snack: apple slices and peanut butter.

actual afternoon snack: apple slices and peanut butter (I know! Such progress.)

planned dinner: baked shrimp with feta, rice, steamed broccoli.

actual dinner: fingers crossed. Hopefully I won't come home to find a cake and a six pack waiting for me.

Two hours a day, either educational or football.

I know I've said this before, but I don't do Black Friday. I am certainly a shopper, but, like the vampires on Buffy who take Halloween off, I usually take a pass on after-holiday sale madness. It's all too stressful with the crazy lines and the 3am openings and whatnot. I mean, what could I possibly need badly enough to want to wait in line outside a Target when I should be in bed asleep? Nothing...except maybe a flat screen HDTV. That? I need. Badly. BAD BAD BADLY.

I read this article on Friday and ever since I've been plotting on just how early I'd need to be in line to score that 32' HDTV. Please note, the article is just speculation but that is good enough for me. I take television very seriously and, to paraphrase Edwina in Raising Arizona, "I NEED ME A TV, HI. THEY GOT MORE'N THEY KIN HANDLE." What do I exercise and lift weights for if not to elbow people out of the way as I'm sprinting towards the electronics department? Hell, I've been training for this my whole life. I will happily be part of the problem if it scores me a $249 HGTV.

Hi, I'm an American.

Hersey Makes a Himpression

When I was little, I had this great book of horse stories and one of them was about a horse who rolled in different colored mud to give the impression of more than one horse. "Hildebrand Makes a Himpression." I thought about this when I arrived this morning for my riding lesson to find Hersey liberally covered in dried mud. Grand!

We brushed off the mud where his saddle and bridle would go and left the rest because even if we completedly cleaned him up he'd just roll again the minute he was turned out. Ornery.


Despite the mud we had a great lesson and he was a really good boy today. He tends to be stubborn and knows I'm green and will totally take advantage of me. I'm learning though and we did well today.


This is Stewart, one of my favorite boys. He's licking the bars:

Hersey, in all his muddy glory:


It was a great day for a ride.

Is this cheating?

Last night's event wasn't profitable for us but it was a lot of fun. Because I've just had a glass of wine and I have to make dinner soon, I will entertain you with some sad iPhone photos from the Divine Design & Craft Boutique:





Here's a little video Kate took:

The gallery space is really sweet and items are available for sale until December 8th, so if you're lame and didn't come out because you had better things to do, you can still GO BUY THINGS.

Today the sun was supposed to finally come out but didn't. Kate and I hung out and did our usual lunch, chocolate shop, various shopping kind of day. The best kind of Saturday, if you ask me. Afterwards I went to do the grocery shopping and as I was walking in the store I felt something funny hurting my eyes. What is that... bright light? Why its the STUPID SUN ABOUT TO SET:

Great timing, SUN.

More Stuff I Like

Jeannette Walls new book Half-Broke Horses. It's not quite the emotional ride that Glass Castle is, but it's a really good read. If you've read Glass Castle it's really interesting to see how Rosemary was raised and how she ended up where she did. Quite an interesting family.


Jo Malone Nutmeg & Ginger perfume. I'm not a perfume girl at all. Most of them I find too strong, too cloying, too allergic-reaction-causing. This one does not because it smells exactly like it's name- nutmeg and ginger. That's it. It's warm and spicy without being sweet or headache-causing. I adore it. If I know you personally, please don't buy it because I want it to smell like me and me only. (Yes, I really am that shallow.)


The Checkout Girl. I'm really loving this blog entry by this local shopgirl blog queen. I've had similar things happen during my retail-working years, but this entry is just full of win. She also does a hilarious series called 100 Bad Dates, which are linked through her site. Good reading.


Community. By all accounts, this sitcom should suck but it just keeps getting better and I hope it gets another season because these characters have so much potential. Check it out if you haven't bothered to watch it. Also! The girl who plays Annie is also Trudy Campbell on Mad Men! It took me forever to catch that because I'm slow.

Commercial Interruption

I'm busy as all hell today, so I'm going to pimp my ride a bit instead of complaining about something dumb. Last night I went to the Richmond Craft Mafia meeting and we covered the following topics:

- our upcoming Handmade Holiday show.

- The Ham Biscuit: Why is it called a biscuit when the biscuit is a roll?

- Did you hear? Dawn got a piece in Country Living!

- the upcoming (tomorrow!) Divine Design & Craft Boutique with GayRVA.

- Oooh, that's a cute necklace you're wearing.

- Boobs, babies, etc.

- my phallic butternut squash

My point is, you should really come to both of those shows and buy some awesome stuff from us. We'll even talk about boobs if you want.

Oh! And one more thing. Because I need another blog like a hole in the head, here's one for Keen Designs that I recently created. Whee.

Catch the beat. I'll wait.

Something about the rain makes me cranky. Sorry, I should say, something about the rain makes me crankiER. I'm usually cranky on an everyday low level anyway, but right now the weather is just turning the dial up to eleven.

Last night I was also cranky because my usual spinning instructor was resting up for an upcoming marathon and the substitute was a guy who's class I usually can't handle. Not because it's particularly hard but because it's insufferable. He's nice and all, just really...Up With People. And corny. So corny, you guys. As with most spin classes (not yours, Michael!) I pretty much hate the instructor for the first three songs and then I drink the metaphorical Kool-Aid and I'm in. But this guy, wow.

To start, the first thing out of his mouth was, "Is it Friday yet?" which is one of those idiot saying that just drives me up the wall. NO, ASSHOLE, IT'S TUESDAY. WE ALL KNOW IT'S TUESDAY SO JUST KNOCK IT OFF BECAUSE I HAVEN'T HAD MY KOOL AID YET. HAVE AN F'ING BLESSED DAY WHILE YOU'RE AT IT BECAUSE I KNOW IT'S COMING.

CRRRRRANKY.

So that got the eyes rolling but I knew he usually settles down after we start and I was willing to suffer through it, until...he caught the beat. I mean, literally, after telling us to "catch the beat" he reached up his hand and caught an imaginary beat. Jesus H. At that point I went beyond cranky and came back around to hilarious. I mean, how can you not laugh at something that stupid? Sort of like the guy who was on the bike next to me last week wearing a red, white and blue striped terrycloth sweat band around his head. So stupid you can only laugh.

So the class continued with the instructor randomly pointing out faults (another habit I hate), telling this person to stop hunching over, and that person that their seat is too low. Important information, but why single people out? Does anyone ever enjoy being singled out because they screwed up? Yeah, not really.

Then! During a rest period he told us to catch our breath and he...wait for it...reached out and caught his breath and pretended to put it back in his mouth. And then I died.

The end.

Grand misuse of the word "Fair"

I think we need to stop using "fair" to describe events that don't include the following:

- Shetland ponies

- baby ducks on a slide

- janky carnival rides

- funnel cake

- pig races

- fried butter

Really. If these things are not in evidence, you do not get to call it a fair. I'm talking about your "Job Fair" or "Health Fair" or in my case, "Benefits Fair." It's open enrollment week and I'm stupid enough to want to make some changes to my health insurance, so I'm forced to go to the "fair" to get my stupid questions answered. Stupid.

The "fair" was held in the gym on one of the indoor basketball courts. Festive! To make it even nicer, they'd laid out some grey plastic to protect the wooden floors. The various representative tables we waaaaaay spaced out, I guess to keep the reps from coming together and plotting a rebellion? Anyway, it was pretty bleak. There was a healthy snack table set up right in the dead center of the court so if you wanted to scam a snack you had to do the long walk of shame into the middle of the mostly-empty space. Damn.

Of course there was no music and very few people and as you walked from table to table the reps would give you a dimly hopeful, but haunted look, only to be disappointed when you didn't want to discuss short-term disability or your 401k. It was terrible.

There was no deep-fried butter, but I did get some helpful information, some free hand sanitizer, a tiny pill box and a chair massage. That last thing almost made up for the lack of ponies, actually, because I jacked up my shoulder last night lifting weights and he kneaded the crap out of it. My only worry was that a stray basketball from the next court over was going to bounce over and thwack me in the head like a wack-a-mole game. Which might have made it a real fair, now that I think about it.

Automated: The good, the bad, the ugly.

Oh man. Yesterday I felt like I lived in the Jetson household or something. My mother gave me her Roomba Scheduler ™ after I coyly said, "You know...if you ever get tired of that thing..." and the next thing I knew she'd loaded me up with a dusty armful of Roomba equipment and I was on my way. She has an actual human person clean for her (Zoila?) so she didn't need or use the Roomba anymore. Score!

I dusted it off, ordered some new filters and figured out how to program it. There is no sound on earth more joyous than the sound of your robot vacuum cleaner starting up all by itself. It sings a little song! Then, while you laze on the couch watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off, your robotic mollusk just tootles around and does all the housework for you. It's GRAND.

Kenny loves it too but points out that the company that makes Roomba also makes warfare robots for the military, so we should keep a close eye on it in case it decides to turn on us when the man vs robot uprising happens.

I was thinking about naming it Norman. Or maybe Doodlebug. Something like that.

Here's what's great about living in the south:

It's November and it's sunny and 75 degrees outside today. It felt like late spring, but with lots of autumn leaves, giving the woods a completely beautiful golden glow:


The leaves also soften the trail and make it slippery, so it's a slightly different type of riding than in midsummer, but still, short sleeve biking! I'll take it.


We started out with a fairly large group and eventually it became four of us - Paula and Frank and me and Kenny.


We got to check out the newly-rehabbed lake in Forest Hill, which looks amazing. The lake was originally a big focus in the park, but in recent years had been allowed to dry up and trees and brush took over. This past year a team worked diligently to dredge out all the dirt and junk and refill it. You can see before and after photos here. It's going to look freaking fantastic next spring. I'm really happy the park is getting the love it deserves.

Anyway, the ride was great. The weather was great. Now I'm going to sit on my ass awhile and watch my Roomba vacuum. Man, I love that robot, even if it is secretly collecting information for the Man vs Robot takeover.

Teenage Humiliation: fresh as the day it was born.

Oh God. Do you ever have one of those moments where you're saying something really stupid and you have a kind of out-of-body experience where you think, Wow, I'm really embarrassed for that person talking. and then you realize, HEY. THAT'S ME.

So, I just got back from the grocery store. I looked good, hair freshly done, cute outfit, feeling okay. In Richmond you just never know who you'll run into at the grocery store, so best to be looking awesome if possible. Anyway, I saw this guy in passing and I was all, wow, that looked just like the Punk Rock Pirate.

Time to back up a bit, I guess. I spent my entire freshman year of college completely, crazy, stupid, embarrassingly besotted with this guy Woodrow. All my friends knew it, he knew it and his best friend, who was kind of a dick, also knew it. His best friend was named Chris, but we all called him the Punk Rock Pirate, because that's what he looked like. We didn't mean it to be a compliment.

Woodrow was not a dick luckily and suffered my longing gazes with an ease I can only imagine came with a long history of, "it's okay, I'm used to it." (Seriously, if you could have seen this guy you would understand. Think Johnny Depp during his 21 Jump Street days. Hubba)

Anyway, Woodrow and I eventually became friends after my friend Ashley couldn't take it anymore and forced me to talk to him. It seemed cruel at the time but in retrospect it was probably for the best. He was a nice guy but the Punk Rock Pirate only ever just tolerated me.

SO, I'm in the grocery store and I see the Punk Rock Pirate. Or at least, I think it's him. He got in line behind me and I got a good look and was all, DAMN. TOTALLY HIM. So I said,

"Hey! I know you, right?"

What I should have said was nothing.

Oh, it gets worse. He looked at me blankly and said,

"Oh really? From where?"

My smooth reply,

"You know, from back in the day - the Village, VCU. You're Chris, right?"

"Uhh, yeah. What's your name?"

At this point I should have just stopped, fled or perhaps made fun of him by telling him we used to call him the Punk Rock Pirate. But no. Why stop at the humiliation of not even being remembered at all? NO. It was past the point of return because I said,

"I'm Adrien. You remember, I had a big crush on your friend Woodrow for my entire freshman year?"

Dawning recognition,

"Oooh, okay... I think I remember you."

Dying inside,

"Hahaha, it was my horrible claim to fame."

WTF, Adrien. What does that even mean?

"Uhh, yeah I guess."

"OKAYWELLBYETHEN!"

And I fled. Please kids, the next time you're in this situation remember, YOU CAN SAY NOTHING.



*No names have been changed in this entry because, really, what's the point?

Because who doesn't like (goth) stuff?

Wow, I'm not even a week in and I'm already backing away from my promise to tell you "little stories" and shit. But, today is Friday and I like Friday for all it's possibilities. A whole weekend awaits! To help your wait move on a little faster, I'm gonna make Friday the day I tell you about Stuff I Like. Here goes:

Urban Decay 24/7 eyeliner. This is the shit. Now, I know, I know, Urban Decay is that gothy brand that's all about the glitter and whatnot, but I am already a complete slave to the Primer Potion and now I love the 24/7 liner just as much. Sure, they have crazy glam-rock colors, but they also have subtle shimmery taupe and plum and brown. I recently got the taupe-y color called Underground:

And man, I love this stuff. You put it on, smudge it a bit and then it sets and stays for the entire freaking day. And it makes my brown eyes look real pretty. That's all I ask, really.

Russell Brand. Oh my God, where has he been all my life? I remember being simultaneously confused-by and amused-with him while watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall but recently we rented Russell Brand in New York City and...wow. No words. Just rent it, put the kids to bed (and close the door. And lock it.) and watch it. Give him a few minutes because at first you're like, "Uh. Um, dude. What?" and the next thing you know you're crying with laughter and simultaneously trying to figure out how to email him. I even watched the DVD Special Features and I never do that.

Her Fearful Symmetry. I finished reading this a week or two ago and it's still hanging with me. Just a really lovely and dark modern ghost story - it starts out kind of normal and just spirals down in to weird in a really terrific way. Read it immediately.

Somehow this has become the goth edition of Stuff I Like. In that case, can I talk about my new boots? I found them on eBay for a ridiculously tiny amount of money because the seller had no idea they retail for $600 new. They are made of the softest glove leather and fit me like they were custom made:


That's right, nerds! Those are perfect boots. PERFECT. I apologize to eBay for all the besmirching I did yesterday because these boots are now in my life. (However, the stupid auction questions continue. Oh my baby Jesus do people ask stupid questions.)

That's all. Come back tomorrow for more fun and excitement.

Another groundbreaking observation.

eBay is just so damn weird. I mean, shit yeah, I buy a lot of stuff from eBay and make out like a bandit. $600 Brazilian glove-soft leather boots for $80? Hell yeah. The best vintage jewelry pliers I've ever owned for $3.00? And stupid stuff, like Roomba filters and iPod adapters for pennies! I love to buy on eBay and I used to love to sell, but selling now sucks. The fees are higher, you can't (as a seller) leave negative feedback and now the kids are treating it like it's a store. You're expected to have a return policy these days. Hell, if I wanted the thing back I wouldn't be selling is on freaking eBay. Also, you're expected to jump through hoops, model shit and patient answer dumb questions.

And oh, the dumb questions. Take, for example, the question I got about a pair of boots I'm selling:

Any chance you could get a picture of the boots with jeans tucked in just so I could get a rough look of what it looks like on?

Well, huh. Let me think about that CREEPY BOOT FETISH PERSON. Or, if you're not a creepy fetish person, why not do what the rest of us do and use your imagination?

I also got this question:

Do you know what the calf size is?

Well, yes. Yes I do. Please see the section called "description." Now, look for the words "calf measurement" and I think you'll find what you're looking for.

I also sold a bag recently and wrote at length about how the only visible wear was on the corners. I included giant color photos of the corners, just to be clear. Though apparently, not clear enough:

in your photos there is some wear shown on the bag. I cannot tell where the wear is located on the bag. Is it in a bottom corner? I am guessing that is the the location. Is it noticeable from the front or rear?

Oh, sigh. HEAVY SIGH.

Nine Years

Nine years ago today I woke up and got dressed and ate breakfast and married my husband. I remember not being nervous at all because why would I be? I was marrying the best guy in the world and it was the surest thing I'd ever done in my life. Nine years later (or thirteen and a half, depending on how you look at it), I can say the best decision I ever made was to gather up the courage to call him up and ask him out on a date.

For your enjoyment, here's a blurry iPhone photo of the wedding picture I have on my desk:

We got married in my sister's living room - a tiny ceremony with only our closest friends and family. Afterwards my most excellent friend Ashley provided a beautiful reception with hot tea, and treats and bowls of white Jordan almonds. There were hydrangeas on the mantelpiece, thanks to her and I love that image even now. I was hopeless back then when it came to any kind of decoration but thankfully I have my Ashley and she made it look effortless. Still does, in fact. I think if I thank her one more time, though, she'll kill me dead. Now that's what I call a friend.

So there you go. Nine years of marriage and in the words of my friend Emily, "I like him pretty good."

PS. In case you want more dirty squash action, please to read this.

My favorite hour.

Well, that was refreshingly dirty of me, huh? For today I think I'm going to tell you a little bit about my favorite way to spend a lunch break in the fall and winter months. When it's warm and classes aren't in session I can sit and read at one of the umbrella-shaded tables outside on the library patio. These tables are popular though, so once the students are back it's really hard to find a free seat and when you do you're usually next to a table full of kids who don't understand that just because you're outside doesn't mean you need to use your Outside Voice.

OH, YOUR NEW SWEATER IS REALLY ITCHY AND YOUR ROOMMATE IS A BITCH? THAT IS FASCINATING.

These kids today have voices like megaphones, no lie.

Because I'm a special flower who just can't tone it all out, I retreat to the most magical of places: The Cellphone-Free Quiet Zone. Yes! They have an entire huge study room in the library just for being fucking quiet in. It's the best. Also! You're allowed to bring in food and drink from the coffee shop downstairs.

(I have to interject to say that initially the idea of Food In The Library made me a little uncomfortable. Isn't that a Rule-Rule? Right up there with Don't Litter and Don't Kill People? But even as a strict rule-follower, I got over this one pretty fast.)

And get this: the magic quiet room is full of big comfy wing back chairs with footrests. I am not even kidding. Sometimes I go in there and just take a little nap, but mostly I hunker down with my tea and maybe a treat and read for the whole hour. It's a really good hour and the view isn't bad either:


When the hour is up I walk back to my office and sometimes I take photos of the campus because it's the prettiest place in town: