Vacation

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Friday Randomosity: This Post Is Long and Has Some Pictures Including One of a Bug So Consider Yourself Warned Edition

So I was on vacation. It was wonderful but now I am tired. Here, have an alligator:

A small gator is still a gator.

I really miss blogging. As in, writing blog posts. And reading OTHER PEOPLE’S blog posts. Especially yours.

Anyway. Randomosity is a good re-entry into posting. For me, at least. For you, probably not so much. But I GAVE YOU AN ALLIGATOR so get off my back already.

* During my vacation, I somehow fell into a wormhole of books about Russia. It started with Child 44 which I got from my husband for my birthday. It was soooo dark and horrible and fascinating that I had to IMMEDIATELY, while I was in Florida at my in-laws’ house, Amazon Prime myself the next book in the series. (The Secret Speech.) And I really really REALLY wish I had also ordered Agent 6, which is the THIRD book in the series. But instead I also Amazon Primed myself the second in ANOTHER mystery/crime/thriller series (the Sweden-based Henning Mankell series starring Kurt Wallander) called The Dogs of Riga which, well, it didn’t have do with RUSSIA but it did have to do with LATVIA and continued the theme of Stalinist-era culture. And THEN I read Snowdrops, which was about modern-day Russia and the lasting effects of the Stalinist era.

Of the four, Child 44  was the best. Closely followed by The Secret Speech and then Snowdrops. I was disappointed in The Dogs of Riga. Namely because the author/translator felt the need to keep talking about how “the dogs” (in Riga, obvs) were after the main character and other characters, as though to really drive home the fact that the title was chosen for a Serious Reason.  Seriously. Every chapter after Wallander got to Riga mentioned the dogs. Sometimes there were dog mentions multiple times per page.  I GET IT. These are the Dogs of Riga. STOP BASHING ME OVER THE HEAD WITH IT.

(The dogs are not actual canines, you know. They are the villains in the book.)

* Is it clear that I spent large portions of my vacation reading?

But I have a problem, Internet. When I want to read a book, I want to read it NOW. I was about 100 pages from being done with Child 44 when I noticed that it was nearly over (WOE!) and I’d be out of fascinating Stalinist-era reading before I knew it. So my husband and I went to Barnes & Noble.

Listen, I could write 10 bazillion words about the GLARING differences between my husband and me when it comes to books and book buying and book choosing and book reading. But I will spare you all that and just say: he is a price comparison kind of guy where I am an “if I want it and the price isn’t unreasonable, I will buy it” kind of gal. I guess this isn’t specific to books. But what I’m saying is, I wanted to buy The Secret Speech. At Barnes & Noble. Which is why we went there.

But my husband – who knew all this, and still drove me to Barnes & Noble for the PURPOSE of buying The Secret Speech – did not allow me to buy The Secret Speech at Barnes & Noble. (Note: I don’t mean “did not allow” as in he FORBADE me to do things. He’s not so much into forbidding me to do stuff.  I mean it as, he advocated against buying it there and, partly in the name of marital harmony, but mostly in the name of I hadn’t yet finished Child 44, I went along with his plan instead of just buying the damn book. At the Barnes & Noble. In which we were standing. BECAUSE WE’D GONE THERE TO BUY THE BOOK IN QUESTION.) Instead, he pointed out that we could order it much more cheaply online, and with Amazon Prime, not only would we get free shipping, we’d also get the book in two days.

Fine. I get it. Saving a buck blah blah blah. BUT WHY DID WE HAVE TO GO TO BARNES & NOBLE THEN?

* We went to the beach one night to see the sun set over the ocean. I unwisely decided I needed to dip my toes in the ocean while my husband took photos with his camera (mostly amazing) and I took photos with my camera (mostly blurry) of the beautiful clouds rolling in.

It rained, so we sat in the car for most of the pre-sunset time. (I mainly spent that time trying vainly to brush sand off my feet so I wouldn’t get sand in my father-in-law’s car. I failed. Which is why I am very thankful for dustbusters.)

Anyway, it was raining and I had my camera all dressed up with nowhere to go, so I took a photo of the raindrops on the car window with the macro setting of my camera. See?

Ooh. Aaaah.

And another raindrop photo – this one with a palm tree in the background:

The rain did let up right in time for the sun to slip into the ocean in a wonderful photo-op-tastic way.

* What’s the opposite of the beach at sunset? Snow and fog in the mountains!

* That Zooey Deschanel show on Fox, The New Girl? I find it quite charming. But the theme song will NOT get out of my head.

And it’s not the whole theme song, either. It’s just the beginning. The “Hey, girl… Whatcha doin’?” part. Over and over and over. It is making me want to punch things.

Also, whenever I watch that show I feel an uncontrollable urge to get bangs.

* Have I blathered on sufficiently long enough to talk about the bug now? We have had a few of these bugs in our house:

OMG IT IS SO GROSS. (Picture not to scale, dear god no.)

Do you know what kind of bug that is? It’s horrifying, obviously. But, like, its name? Or how to make sure I never see another one ever again?

* Speaking of bugs, a giant, pudgy brown flying thing just helicoptered past my window. Outside, at least. But dude: What the eff is that?

And now there is a big swarm of bugs circling the tree in the back yard. I AM NOT READY FOR THIS. IT IS MARCH.

* You know what eats bugs? A turtle.

That is totally a turtle. I promise.

I could really use a turtle around here right now.

* It’s possible I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a tendency to get hooked on specific foods. As in, I get so obsessed with them, I eat them every day and I crave them constantly. My current addiction is wedge salads. There is something so intoxicating about a half-head of cool iceberg lettuce luxuriating in a lazy river of creamy parmesan ranch dressing, bejeweled with rings of soft pink shallot and squares of crisp, salty bacon. I have been eating about five heads of lettuce a week. And much bacon. MUCH BACON.

* Did my use of the word “luxuriating” make you think of Toddlers and Tiaras? No? Just me, then?

* The second best thing about the wedge salads (the first best thing being the salads themselves) is that I now have a nice steady supply of bacon fat in my fridge.

Do you think that’s weird? I mentioned it in the company of several people a few weeks ago, and some of them gave me the “she needs to be institutionalized” face.

I don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s WONDERFUL. Bacon fat can enrich so many things! I get all drool-faced when I think about how rich and velvety my onion soup is going to be. Once I get over my wedge salad fixation long enough to make some onion soup, that is.

I have used the bacon fat to make lentil soup, however.   I’ve been recently obsessed with lentil soup, too. Lentil soup and wedge salads. I think that’s all I ate for a couple of weeks.

* I have finally found a reliable makeup remover. I don’t really wear a lot of makeup.  Just a little blush and some mascara; eyeliner and lip gloss if I’m feeling fancy. But I have the HARDEST time getting the mascara off my stupid lashes. For pale stumpy things, they sure get a good grip on the mascara.

The makeup remover in question? Those Neutrogena face wipes that Jennifer Garner is promoting all over the teevee. I didn’t hear about them from JGarn, though. I am pretty sure I heard about them from the Internet – maybe from you? – because I get about 98% of my info from the Internet.

Anyway: these suckers work. At least on stubborn mascara.

* Last week, for the first time ever, I went snow shoeing.

(Those are snow shoe tracks.) (And a tree.)


I don’t know what I expected, but it was a lot like walking.

* I suppose I should clarify that my vacation was two weeks long. We spent the first week in Florida. We spent the second in Montana. Probably I should have mentioned that earlier.

* If you are a) married or b) not married, you will likely already know this. But going on vacation can be really good for a marriage. It was SO FUN to just… hang out with my husband. I mean, our parents were around for a lot of the hanging out, which was great. But we also got to do fun stuff alone together. And eat delicious food together. And brave far too many flights together. And go skiing and snow shoeing and alligatoring together. And just enjoy each other without the specter of Work and The Hospital and Household Chores looming over us. My husband is pretty fun to hang out with, you know.

* Also, we watched the entire first season of Downton Abbey and most of the first season of Game of Thrones together. There is really nothing that brings a couple together like World-War-I-era British society drama and some fantastical intrigue.

* Can we talk about the gators?  My in-laws live in a gated community on a golf course. And the golf course abuts a pond of some sort. And there are LIVE WILD GATORS in the pondthing. GatorS as in Multiple Carnivorous Reptiles.

If you look closely at the left side of the water, you'll see TWO GATORS. They may look lazy, but they will bite you.

This is crazy, Internet. And yet, my in-laws have all these gators that just lounge near the golf course. Within simple slithering distance of golfers’ legs.

See! The top one is ACTIVELY BITING YOU! (Or cooling himself. Whatever. I'm not a scientist.)

The reason I have these photos? Is because we took our daily constitutional on a path that goes right next to the gator pondthing.  And I had my camera because the gators were there EVERY DAY and I knew to expect them.

How is this… okay? How do the people in my in-laws’ development not constantly fall victim to hungry gators? HOW?

* My husband and his parents were very nonchalant about the gators. TOO nonchalant, in my opinion.  Yes, I come from a part of the country where bears and wolves and cougars roam wild. So I get that The Wild is full of Wild Creatures, and that humans can totally co-exist with scary vicious animals who will for the most part leave you alone if you leave them alone.

But it’s not like there’s a field near my parents’ house that just has BEARS MILLING AROUND or anything. It’s not like my dad goes out to water the lawn and there are wolves taking a nap behind the shrubbery and he’s all “lah dee dah, wolves, whatever.” My mom doesn’t hear about a copse of trees that’s hosting a cougar family and purposely walk past it each day in order to get some sunshine and exercise.

No. If there are bears or wolves or cougars anywhere in the vicinity, they STEER CLEAR.

Are gators that different from bears and wolves and cougars? NOT TO MY KNOWLEDGE.

* I told Kristina about these the other day.

They have lemon curd INSIDE them!

They are the beautiful and delicious lemon-filled cupcakes I made for the Super Bowl. Yes, I realize the Super Bowl took place over a month ago.  Errr… nearly two months ago. Nonetheless.

We had about ten people over for the Super Bowl party. Not a single person ate a cupcake.

Which means that I ate them all.

(Not ALL. There are four sitting in a container in the freezer, waiting for me to remember to take one out to defrost it BEFORE I am in the mood for a cupcake.)

(To be fair, we had a LOT of food at our Super Bowl party. And we had a LOT of desserts. As in, my husband made brownies and two flavors of homemade ice cream AND one of our guests brought an ice cream cake. So my beautiful cupcakes didn’t really stand a chance.)

* Have you seen those toilet paper commercials about the “backup roll”? The whole point of the commercial – other than to sell toilet paper, I imagine – is to push this little decorative toilet paper cozy (cosie? cozie?) that holds the backup roll. Or may the commercial is selling the decorative cozy? I don’t really know. I just know that backup rolls are important. Not important enough for me to buy or want a toilet paper cozy, mind you. But important. There is NOTHING WORSE than not having a backup roll. It’s either a problem NOW or it’s a problem LATER when you’ve skipped into the bathroom without remembering that you ran out last time.

That’s why I try to convince my husband that we need more toilet paper every time we go to Target. My goal is to have 50 rolls under every cabinet in every bathroom at all times. A sort of Extreme Couponers stockpile under all my sinks.

Yep. I think I’m ending there. On backup toilet paper.

This may be the most random thing I’ve ever written.

[Do I have to say this? I bought all the Neutrogena wipes/Stalinist-era novels/toilet paper/cupcake materials/Amazon Prime memberships mentioned in this post with my own money because I wanted to. I am not being compensated for talking about them. And all the opinions expressed here are my own. But please: feel free to send me all the makeup removal products or mystery books or cupcake paraphernalia you want. I would totally love that.]

[Also, you should probably know that the best photos in this post were taken by my husband.]

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Friday Randomosity: Move It or Lose It Edition

Well, Internet, another week has soared past me like a giant pelican with a half-eaten salmon in its beak.

And honestly? I don’t even know if pelicans exist in the same geographic regions as salmon. But I’m not going to look it up because that’s what kind of week it’s been.

BUT there is a beautiful tree directly outside my window that has made the slow transformation from green to yellow to orange… and now the top half is scarlet… and it looks so beautiful against the bright blue sky that I can’t help but smile.

In other words, it’s time for some randomosity!

* First up – the Asheville post is COMING. I know it is tops on your mind. It’s actually completely written and set up in Word Press, complete with over 40 photos and over 2,500 words. (Yes, now you REALLY want to read it!) But when I was getting ready to post it, my husband looked over my shoulder and noticed that I was using a bunch of his photos… which, DUH, he takes much better photos than I do… And he wants to make sure that photo-stealing-type people (which obviously, does not mean YOU! But he doesn’t know you like I do) can’t copy his photos. So he wants to install some html code on my blog and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. That is me falling asleep. Because once you get beyond basic computer-type things like typing and Googling, well, I turn into a drooling, eye-glazed idiot. I mean, we’re all very lucky I know how to post a photo to my blog. Or post a blog ENTRY for that matter.

Which is a long way of saying, I have to wait until my husband – who is now back at work BOOOOOOOOO – has a few minutes to find and install the appropriate anti-photo-stealing code on my blog. And THEN finally, after much fanfare, you will get to read my super-exciting vacation recap. And zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. That is YOU falling asleep because I’m pretty sure my vacation is of interest purely to me and possibly my mother-in-law who is adorably fascinated by everything remotely related to my husband and his life.

* My three favorite fall dramas are The Good Wife, Blue Bloods, and Parenthood. I am kind of obsessed with Parenthood and I managed to get my husband obsessed with it as well. I am more than a little bit in love with Crosby and Jasmine. The big problem with the show? It simultaneously makes me want kids and makes me NEVER want kids in a billion years. Although, to be honest, everything these days makes me feel that way. Which is a big difference from how I felt two years ago, which is: No kids, ever. Period. But now? Now, my ovaries are deeply conflicted.

* How did a lighthearted bullet about TV become so suddenly serious? Let us avoid any more discussion about the state of my ovaries.

* In good news, my husband got Christmas off! Which means we get to go to my parents’ house for the holiday. Yay! And my parents have kindly and generously offered to pay for our airline tickets as our Christmas gift, which is WONDERFUL. But now my husband and I are looking for plane tickets… And there are only a few flights to the airport near my parents (which is two hours from their house) and only a few seats left on each of those flights… And my husband hates flying – not that I like it AT ALL – so he’s very picky about number of connections and seat placement, which narrows our choices even further… And my mom mentioned that an airport in their town just opened up flights, which is GOOD… But those flights are on teeny tiny prop planes, which is BAD and also TERRIFYING… So now instead of being EXCITED and GRATEFUL, I am feeling ANXIOUS and OBLIGATED to find the cheapest flight even though that may mean making ten connecting flights and flying on a teeny tiny terrifying prop plane.

* Something has been stuck in my craw for a few weeks now… I went out – as in, to a bar – with a friend and her friend. Both girls are about 5 years younger than I am, 20 pounds lighter, and blond. While we were chatting, some Random Dude came up to Friend 2 and said, “Hey, you and your friend are so beautiful. Blah blah blah.” And he was talking about Friend 1. Who, admittedly, IS beautiful. But COME ON. I’m not saying I have any illusions that I am beautiful – only my husband and my dad think that. But I’m not horrifically ugly. And even if I WERE, what the hell, Random Dude? I know you are thinking with your Little Random Dude and not whatever fragments of a brain you may have… But in no way is it cool to approach three girls and say – within earshot of ALL of them – that only two are beautiful.

I think this is bugging me anew because I went out with Friend 1 again recently (who, by the way, is ALSO MARRIED and wears a giant diamond engagement ring and a wedding band) and it happened AGAIN. TWICE. Poor Friend 1… I mean, she was hideously embarrassed. It’s not her fault she’s beautiful. And clearly I am envious of her for her beauty… and my self esteem isn’t enough that I can laugh off these stupid Random Dudes. But I just think it’s poor form for people to do that. I would NEVER do that to someone. It’s hurtful. Even if the person is old and overweight and – god forbid – BRUNETTE, I would never point it out by way of complimenting the person right next to her for being NOT old or overweight or brunette. It’s enough to make me not want to go out with Friend 1, which is stupid. Because I should be able to get BEYOND that. I mean, you can’t go around comparing yourself to other people. You’ll usually come up short in some way. But really. It’s enough to give a gal a complex.

And now that I’ve got THAT off my chest, I am moving on.

* I had gravy for the first time in my life this past weekend. At IKEA. In the food court. It was surprisingly delicious. Especially when used as a dip for fries. Now I am not quite so apprehensive about making gravy for Thanksgiving. However, I still have yet to eat stuffing… I’m not looking forward to that.

* Speaking of Thanksgiving… With liberal help from you, The Pioneer Woman, and an episode of America’s Test Kitchen, I think I am going to try my hand at making some of Thanksgiving eats this weekend! I will report my findings slash failings slash successes.

* Something I have very little tolerance for is disorganization. I’m not talking about, like, a messy home. Lord knows I’m the master of the messy home. I have a pile of unfolded clean laundry sitting on the couch right this second in fact. But when it comes to work matters? Organization should be part of the job description, right? I mean, if you email me because you need me to find an email I sent you a few weeks ago or an email YOU sent ME a few weeks ago… Well, that drives me batty. Because clearly a) the item was not important enough for you to keep track of and b) your time is much more important than mine. That is all I will say about that, although I have many more thoughts on the subject. Many. More. Thoughts.

Instead of going on and on about it, I will direct you to this awesome comic by The Oatmeal.

* I have an IM addiction. I leave my instant messenger on from 9:00 to 5:00 so I can interact with graphic designers and clients and other people. And I am constantly hearing the little message notification noise… Even when no one is IMing me.

* What do you do when you buy some wine and it sucks? I’m not talking about a bottle being corked – which is undrinkable. I’m just talking about a wine that’s gross. Do you dump the bottle? Or do you do what I do, and drink it anyway?

It’s really weird. I’m so not the same way about food. If something tastes gross, I will throw it away with no compunctions. I mean, I’ll whine a little. But I’m not going to eat something yucky.

Yet with wine… It’s somehow different. I brought a bottle of a white blend back from my trip to Napa this summer and just opened it last night. And it was gross. I don’t know if it got old (in which case, that does not bode well for the winery I got it from)… Or if it is on the verge of corking… (Is that even the correct use of that term?) Or if I just thought it was better than it was. But… Yuck. And yet, I drank a whole glass. Now, the nearly-full bottle is still sitting on my counter, waiting for me to drink the rest.

* Do you do anything for Halloween? I think my husband is off that day, but my guess is we’ll just make dinner and watch TV shows off our DVR all night as per usual. I don’t think I’ve actually EVER gotten a trick-or-treater. This is what happens when you grow up in the boonies and then live in dorm rooms or apartments for 11 years. Of course, our lack of Halloween experience has not prevented us from buying plenty of candy. And eating it. By ourselves.

* I am going to a surprise party tonight. It’s filled me with anxiety ever since I first found out about it, even though the person whom we’re surprising is a person I see roughly once every six to eight weeks. When I went out for dinner with him and his wife a few weeks ago, I was so worried that I would blurt out the surprise somehow.  (I didn’t.) And now I’m fretting over the actual party. What if we park in the wrong spot and ruin the surprise? What if my husband doesn’t get out of work early enough for us to make it on time, and we get there just at the wrong time and ruin the surprise? What if I accidentally email the surprisee and ruin the surprise? (I don’t know if I even have his email address, so this is unlikely, and yet I’m still fretting about it.) What if he is reading this blog and I’ve ruined the surprise?

* I had a dream last night that I was eating candy corn. And the kernels (is that what you call them?) were made up of just the orange part. (The yellow part happens to be my favorite part of the candy corn.) (I know this is probably the equivalent of liking green M&Ms better than brown M&Ms.) It was terribly disturbing in the dream, like the world was irreparably flawed.

Now what the hell was my subconscious trying to tell me with THAT one?

* My husband likes to use the phrase, “Move it or lose it.” He’ll say this when I’m standing in front of the silverware drawer, chopping onions, and he needs to get a spoon. He’ll say it when I’m standing in front of the sink, brushing my teeth, and he wants to brush his teeth.

I GUESS I get what it means, in certain situations. Like, if you have your foot under one of those guillotine choppy things and someone wants to see the guillotine’s slicing action, you’d say “Move it [the foot] or lose it [the foot].” Because if you didn’t move your foot, it would get chopped clean off. But I don’t get that phrase otherwise. Certainly not in the context my husband uses it. (Although I suspect he uses it out of context purely to bother me.)

Likewise with “see you on the flip side.” The flip side? Does that mean “the other side of the day”?

Or “it just dawned on me.” I think of this as meaning something like, “the situation was just illuminated.” As when the sun rises and sheds light on a situation.

Or “as easy as pie.” What the hell does that mean? I’ve made pie before, and let me tell you: NOT EASY.

Sigh. English is full of weirdness. I love it, don’t get me wrong… But sometimes I just have to shake my head at all the common phrases I use that I don’t really understand.

What common phrases or sayings just don’t make sense to you?

* I’m thinking of getting my clients holiday gifts this year. My initial thought was to send them each a nice box of Godiva chocolates. But I’m not sure. Is that appropriate? Is it enough? I don’t want to be extravagant or anything, but I do want to thank them for their business. (Seriously. My clients are AWESOME.)

Do you have any thoughts on getting gifts for clients/boss-type people? Any gifts you’ve received from a colleague or business associate that you loved? Or hated, I suppose? Suggestions welcome.

And that, my friends, is all the randomosity I can handle for today. Unless you have some randomosity you’d like to share with me! I always enjoy OTHER PEOPLE’S randomosity.

Have a super weekend Internet! See you on the flip side. Whatever that means.

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Maybe I Should Have Gotten My Scale a Ticket

Happy Monday, Internet!

 

I know you are anxiously awaiting (HA) my Super-de-Duper Vacation Post all about Asheville. But it is LONG. With many many photos. So it is taking me ten years to write.

 

Also, I have work to do.

 

Plus, this weekend was my husband’s Great Big 30th Birthday Celebration: Part Two. We spent Friday partying with about 20 medical residents. (Who was at the hospital, is my question?)

Then on Saturday, we went to Ikea (prounounced “eye-key” by our navigator) and spent hours wandering through neatly arranged rooms full of furniture we don’t need… searching for the perfect BILLY bookcase with the matching OLSBO door… sitting in fifty different desk chairs until we picked the VERNER option… deciding for, then against, the FIGGJO, DROMMAR, KONCIS, and more… realizing that it was suddenly an hour later than we thought it was and we were about to be late for dinner… getting right to the warehouse portion of the store and discovering that the BILLY bookcase in white was not in stock… and leaving with thirty assorted odds and ends that we didn’t need in the first place.

 

But then… Sunday…

 

Sunday, we went here:

With these (please excuse the hang-nailed thumb):

 

We wore our team colors. Only a few people booed at us (and no one spit on us!).

 

We sat in great seats with this fabulous view:

And watched some of this:

We were shocked and delighted when we were ahead (it was short-lived):

We ate stadium food and sunburned only the left sides of our faces.

After we left, we ate one of these (okay, only my husband ate one of those – I had a much healthier meals of chicken wings and curly fries):

Yes, there are fries IN the sandwich.

 

It was a great time.

 

But now we are home for longer than three days, and I am Getting Serious about not only eating better (see: no more sandwiches with fries in them) but about exercising as well. (I think I may rescue my old nemesis Jillian Michaels from her dusty shelf.)

 

Because after Asheville and this little football weekend? My scale HATES me.

 

By the way? We went back to “Eye-Key” after the game to pick up our BILLY bookcase. My husband will put it together today. (I know you were super worried.) We also managed to pick up some of these:

And some of these:

And some of these:

I promise that a really long, possibly horrifically boring Asheville Recap with lots of pretty pictures is coming soon.

 

How was your weekend?