Bits and pieces

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This weekend I got a lot done. My accomplishments include cleaning my junk drawers, dusting my room, updating our rotating scrapbook, watching an episode of Lost, and filing, filing, filing.

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Sunday I went to yoga with S. At the end of the class, S mentioned, “I’ve been thinking about becoming a vegetarian.”

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I bought an apple-red dress for LDW’s wedding. It has sparkles.

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I went to J.Crew. I returned N. Panda’s now not-bridesmaid dress.

“What is the reason for the return?” the woman asked.

“What is this?” C asked, holding up a piece of leather.

“It’s a dog collar. I think,” I said.

“It’s a bracelet,” the woman says.

“Oh. It. Looks like a dog collar. The bride changed her mind,” I said.

“About the dress, right. Just about the dress, right?” asked the male salesman.

“Yes, just about the dress,” I say.

He sighed a sigh of relief.

I maintain it was a dog collar.

*****

In the middle of the yoga studio, I said, “I HATE vegetarians.” That is to say: I hate uneducated people who become vegetarians because it’s trendy. But I did not do a good job of explaining. Yoga students stared. I backpedaled.

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C and I cooked chili. And corn muffins. C and I roasted a chicken.

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I watched The King’s Speech. I watched The Fighter. I watched Practical Magic (for the millionth time.) I watched Inception.

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I blogged. I cleaned out my inbox. I discovered a few new musicians.

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I bought a new notepad. For Cucina Fresca recipes. More on that later.

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I drank multiple pots of coffee. I snuggled Ellen. I snuggled Corelyn.

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I started a dance party. (Gettin’ Jiggy with It…)

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I slept until noon. I set no alarm. I was coyote.

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I got a new toothbrush. It’s green. And recycled.

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I ran a mile in 13 minutes. I am getting there.

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I grocery shopped. twice.

At TJ’s we heard: “I’m kinda faded but I feel alright (thinkin’ ’bout makin’ my move tonight),” which was followed by a man agreeing with me that it was the best song ever. “The best song. Ever. Love this song,” he agreed.

This is why I never get anything done.

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“There is a note on the board that says ‘Hard boil all eggs'” – Jeff

“Yes, its because the eggs go bad tomorrow according to package.” – me

“Well, so you’re going to hard boil them?” – Jeff

“Yes, I could also make you cookies, or a baked good, do you want me to?” – me

“What about brownies, could you make brownies?” – Jeff

“Yea, probably.” – me (proceed to look through cook book and see if I have enough chocolate)

“No, I don’t have enough to make a full recipe. I could make 1/3.”  – me

“Could I go to the store and get the ingredients you need?” – Jeff

“Yea, then I’ll make ‘um.” – me

“What, no, this is ridiculous. Hard boil the eggs, we should relax tonight.” – Jeff

“Ok.” – me

Proceed to boil the eggs, and rinse all the lettuce in the sink because it’s sandy. Jeff stands by, shaking head, coaxing me to sit down and relax.

Guys, I think I’m addicted to cooking.

Tuesday morning thoughts.

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Most mornings, around eight, I see two couples on my street. The women walk, slowly, deliberately up, and down, and up my street, turning around in front of my house. They are always dressed well, hunched together, stiffly moving as steadily as their ages permit, always speaking in their first, familial language.

Their husbands wait two apartment buildings down, dressed in jackets, khakis, and baseball caps, flowing from English to their first language and back again. Trying to decipher what the language is most days, listening intently, trying not to stare, I am always caught, and with a smile and a “Good Morning” I once again have missed my opportunity. It sounds like something out of Eastern Europe…Polish, or Russian, a Slavic language that sounds almost familiar, somehow comforting…

These four seventysomething neighbors of mine keep alive my dream of living in a neighborhood full of culture, diversity, and friendship. I love to see them, love saying “Hello,” love being recognized on my street. Because it is my street, and my neighborhood, and these are my neighbors.

If I see these four, walking each morning, it immediately puts a smile on my face. Followed by a quickened pace. For when I see my neighbors, my friends, around eight o’clock, it means I am late.

I would do anything, spontaneously…

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Last weekend’s adventures were amazing. Here’s a peek into our girl’s day:

That’s me in the middle, with 12 of my closest girlfriends!

This week, however, was what my co-workers and I affectionately call “Hell Week.” It’s one of our busiest work weeks in the entire week, which meant I spent quality time at my desk, called my desk my “bed” twice, and ate the following foods: Indian, Thai, Chinese, Mexican, Thai again, and last night, had Dino Nuggets.

When I was a kid, my fave meal (which probably could explain my chubby preteen years) was chicken and fries. Last night, after the longest.week.ever, after 9-10 pm quitting times, I had dino nuggets and fries for dinner. (This time, though, I used organic ketchup, don’t worry.) Jeff and I watched House Hunters until they started repeating. It was an excellent Friday night.

Today brings basketball with B and my favorite 5 year olds, followed by giving blood with MAC. It’ll be the second time I’ve attempted to give blood in Cali, but seeing as I have been more persistent in taking my iron supplements, I think for once I’ll be able to give.

Today will probably also involve a Target run so I can get some supplies for the next adventure: Vegas next weekend to celebrate Corelyn’s birthday! I can’t wait.

I hope y’all are doing something stellar today!