Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Some key life lessons

Today -- an interesting day. Excuse me, an "interesting" day. Not quite the same as when my grandmother told me my shade of lipstick was "interesting" but somewhat akin.

Today reinforced a rule I instinctively made for myself at the outset of this new life: I must leave the house every day! Now, before you assume I'm turning into a recluse like that evil spider and need to be swatted with a shoe, I DO generally leave the house every day -- multiple times even (she says proudly)! But today, I woke up with a sore throat that I realized I should (could) not ignore. It was grey, windy, supposedly rainy, but that was a thinly fabricated lie by the weather gods. So, I'd already decided it was Day Off Rowing, and -- oh yeah, remember my to-do from weeks ago? about finding Pilates classes? did it! So, originally thought I'd check out a Pilates or boxing class ('cause they're so similar) at the Newton branch of my gym (haven't been there in a very long while, as there are now three closer branches), but on advice from sore throat, decided to forgo that as well.

THEN, then I got all kinds of sucked up in trying to figure out the seemingly simple matter of offering y'all a way to "subscribe" to this here blog via email. It should just be a little button thingie! In fact, it IS a little button thingie! But it's a wily, COMPLICATED little button thingie! So, I shall spare you the details, except that it's an ongoing effort involving a Google Feed Burner Help Group (like I could make that up), which seems to be ignoring me thus far. And many hours passing as my stubbornness kicked in, as I just knew I could figure it out on my own ... peering at HTML code ... swearing ... OK, I'm stopping. Just know I'm working on it. For YOU.

So, my point ... right! That I didn't leave the house until 4! Not such a good move, really. I was starting to think maybe I WOULD wind up homeless under the bridge and what would be the odds of getting a date then (well, maybe not so bad, actually), and that just spiraled into all kinds of other anxiety. That then miraculously wasn't so bad once I left the house. Until I reached the Trader Joe's parking lot. Damn. You'd think with this free flowin' schedule, I'd manage to get there at a smart hour, wouldn't you? But no. In fact, I completely gave up on my nearby Brookline T.J.'s with its RIDICULOUS parking lot and drove to Cambridge because it's one of the few places in this entire region that has a real (as defined by SoCal standards) parking lot. And there I stocked up on mashed potato and pecan pie makin's. I'm gonna attempt my first pie crust! Already got the careful instructions from my mom ... apparently you're supposed to manhandle the HECK out of the dough, really, really knead it ... KIDDING! So yeah, don't TOUCH it! Be careful with the liquid! This should be entertaining.... If it's a dismal failure, I'll take a picture.

I wasn't the only one having a rough day ... Willa, poor Willa ... it was a barfy day, folks. Like, my trailing her around the house, repeatedly (because it's necessary to run from room to room, repeatedly, when you are barfing, didn't you know?), roll of paper towels in hand, alternately feeling really bad for her, and really wondering WHEN SHE WOULD STOP. This exercise also made me REALLY glad I'm not a parent. I mean, the amount a little child can hold and expel vs a cat, damn. Although I guess it's possible a kid wouldn't run from room to room. But they would probably barf on themselves without steering help ... like Willa's poor little paws ... yep, a sad sight.... If she would just stop RUNNING, it would probably really help matters. But, that's not the way the barffest goes down. So, here's a shot of Willa at the end of a hard day:











Oh, right, and you've been waiting to meet Drum! World, meet Drum, Drum, the world:
In his first shot, he's got the Joy of Cooking, all ready for some tofurkeying. The other shot shows off his unique figure. And, please note, the roll of paper towels in the background, this from the barffest 09. What's that? What is he? He's DRUM! According to West Elm, he's a ceramic something-or-other, drum. Given finances, a real coffeetable won't be coming down the chimney anytime soon, but I could use a few more faux coffeetable-esque objects in the living room, and he was free with "design dollars" (from prior curtain purchases -- I actually went back for one more curtain panel and got near laughed out of the store by the awesome, hysterical, very gay Stephone who helped me with Curtains, Round 1. He found it hysterical I thought they'd still be hanging around. So, Plan B.). Turns out, $100 is a very tricky amount to spend in the store -- near enough to small, random, entertaining things (I coulda had a cool silver branch!) but not close enough to the larger, arguably more useful ones.... So, Drum came into my life. He's pretty cool. The gatos have accepted him. He can hold a laptop, or a mug, perhaps a bowl, or a cookbook.... What more could I ask for?

So, it was a long 'un today, let's review what life lessons we've learned: Manhandle the heck outta your pie dough! Don't step in (or worse yet, sleep in) kitty barf! Be sure to run from room to room when you are in the process of barfing! Leave your house before 4! Buy your curtains in bulk! Don't go to West Elm with precisely $100 to spend, unless you're in the market for a silver branch!

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