Tag Archives: weekend

Gotta get down on Friday…

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Friends, here we are, on the afternoon side of Friday! And there is a three day weekend ahead for most of us to enjoy! This weekend brings barbecues, soccer games, sunshine, spring cleaning (as we roll into summer), video tutorials on soup making, and potato salad. Among, you know, other things.

Liz and I headed to yoga last night, where we spent an hour and a half breathing deep and trying not to laugh our heads off. The class was interesting, but like always was a little weird for us for the first thirty minutes and took a turn for the weird for the last ten, too. Too much quiet time makes us laugh so hard.

After yoga Wednesday, my abs were sore, and now the two days in a row are definitely catching up with my shoulders. Which is great for these arms and back of mine, let me tell you. Tonight I may run if I feel like it, probably toting Jeff along for the ride, too. I want to do one more set of intervals in the set I’ve got going to gauge how I’m doing. From Monday to Tuesday I added a tenth of a mile to my 20 minutes of intervals, so hopefully I am doing something right.

This weekend I also have to print invitations for my sister’s wedding shower, mail them off, and make sure my bridesmaid dress for Lauren’s wedding fits. To be in more than one wedding a year is hard! At least I had Barbra’s to get me ready…

What are all of you up to this weekend? The thing I am looking forward to the most (besides not typing because boy does it make these forearms ache! Typing and yoga don’t go together!)

This:

 

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!

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.

*****

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.

*****

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

*****

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

*****

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

*****

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.

*****

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.

*****

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

*****

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 weekend…

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…it was….

girl’s night, real loud. wine, PW apps, more wine, and salad. Laughing, laughing, laughing…more wine. Laughing, crying because we’re laughing, smiling. Stories, clothing swap, “That looks great on you!” Screaming about nothing, screaming about “You are SO pretty omg” and “He’s so sucky, he just sucks” and “Oh my god this is delicious” and “Ugh I love it!” Music, and smiles, and hugs, and god, we needed that.

sleep, wake.

soccer. “No more goals” to keep it fair. “Can I play for the other team?” to keep it fair. Running, smiling, laughing, soccer. Home, leftovers. CC and I, shopping. Meeting CD, shopping ,work appropriate tops, and “No you cannot have that.” Christmas music, which we’re ignoring. More laughing. Cute dresses, cute shoes. No boots. “Why does this zipper make sense?” Home, lasagna. Calm. Alone. Thanksgiving planning. “All we have to do is making this and this the night before? That’s great!” Eat lasagna. Realize we’re nine recipes behind in blogging. Not caring. Lasagna = winner. Princess Bride, because he hasn’t seen it…”Anybody want a peanut?” so good.

sleep, wake.

Egg sandwich. Head to work, by 10 am. New clothes, feelin’ spiffy. Work, work, smile, smile, work…off of work, nearly done. Gas, then home, then TJs, for pizza stuff…then home, then cookies. Half the recipe. Cookies look half the size…but they are still good! Open some wine, make some pizza dough, get ready for Jenn…Jenn arrives! Pizzas get made. Bacon and onion, clam, mushroom broccoli, pepperoni, cheese. Best. pizza. ever. Chatting, chatting all night long, about home, about friends, about new friends, about nothing in particular. Three pizzas, three friends, one bottle of wine. Great night. Goodbye, promise of seeing each other tomorrow.

sleep, wake.

you get in, you get done (and then you get gone.)

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My hairdresser last night said, “Cutting your hair makes me feel like I am cutting Veronica Lake’s hair.”

This weekend I have the following plans: yoga, date with JH to crepes and a movie, sleep, soccer, peach crisp, nothing, sleep, farmer’s market, yoga, pot roast, nothing.

My hairdresser last night said, “You have great hair. Do you like your hair? Because some people with great hair don’t like their hair.”

It’s Friday. Cinnamon rolls are made, and ready to be eaten. 37 to go. There are mixed cds to mix, to mail, to pour my soul into, and to hope that (and know that) the recipients will get, and love.

My hairdresser last night said, “So the sister wives were on Oprah today…”

I’m going to do a lot of s t r e t c h i n g this weekend, and cooking, and deep breathing in and out through my nose, and alternatively relaxing my face muscles and smiling through Warrior 3.

My hairdresser last night said, “What is your heritage?”

I said Italian.

My hairdresser last night said, “Oh my God, I knew it! I knew you were Italian!!”

This weekend was:

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Sunshine. Scrambled eggs. My favorite girls. Tunes in my kitchen. Yoga at the gym. “Oh, we’re subleasing.” Downward facing dog. Triangle. Airplane. Walking home in the sunshine. Packing for the beach. Books, towels, blankets, pizza. Sun. In the car, tunes up, windows down, friends surrounding friends. Busy beach, moving on, quiet beach. Laughing so hard you cry. Sun. Blanket spread, friends arriving. “These are my friends from high school.” Loving getting to say that, over and over again. Explaining how we’re all friends. Running in the water. Video taping it. K, B, and I in the water. Getting tossed out of the ocean by the waves. Bruises from the sea [no, thank you, you are not admitted.] Laying out. Showers on the beach. Wedding on the beach. Reading on the beach. Sleeping on the beach. Bleachers on the beach. Nerf football. Chattering away at each other. Birthday wishes. Sun going down, lifeguards arriving. Young lifeguards. Time to leave. Packing it up, in, and out. Changing, laughing, sun dipping. Pictures. Two cars, four girls, makeup on. Smiles, oohs and ahhs, pictures. Camera on timer, on the car. Friendly passerby shooting our smiles, or glances at the sea, and the helicopter. Dinner. Fancy restaurant, by the sea. Seated, by the kitchen. A bottle of wine. New friends, old friends. Seafood, Alfredo. Mud Pie. Laughing, laughing. Smiles. Stories, long and short. Hugs, mints flavored like sugar, and hugs. Valet cars, and home. Traffic. Life stories, on the streets of LA, through the night, to home. Rent. Rent checks. Back in the car. More life stories, because the traffic in LA is never light, and the load on your heart is never lifted.

Sleep. Wake.

Bikes. Farmer’s market. Is that man dead? No, I think no. Garlic, and so large it is. Peaches, because they are too good to resist. Sunshine on my shoulders, bike grease on my hands. “Do you always get this much stuff” because the bag was so heavy. 5 ears of corn. Ride home, dead man walking, dead man gone. Sun. Home. K and M home, too. Some water, some rest. Clean the kitchen — more guests coming. avocado brie toast. Clean out the cooler. Thank you, K. Onto the Grove, for movies. Missed movie…Crate and Barrel. Wanting to own every piece of furniture. “Where do you send your samples?” and Barbara. Loving everything. Teeny spoon. Too late again, fourth row? A fourth friend. Seated two by two, laughing inappropriate loud throughout — parts funny, and not. Movie over, 6:40. Just like she said.

Home, change, borrow clothes, Corelyn you’re a saint. Pink Taco. For five. At eight. No, for three. At eight thirty. Slowly back to five…friends, stories, epic stories, family trees, timelines. Tahiti. Not going to Tahiti. Ever. It’s a volcano. So many tacos, so good. Sangria, by the pitcher, because we can. Dark atmosphere, light hearts.

Outside. Dark. 10:00. Photographs on the stairs, by the blue wall. Jumping, jumping high fives, band photos. I am the lead singer. Smiles, not smiles, advertisements for who knows what. “Remember when we had a band?” “Oh, you mean Frost?” Because I had forgotten we named it. “Just kiss her.” More photos. Tree lights, Jeff lying on the ground, photos. Mannequins, poses, smiles, laughing. “You know what would be a great shot?” Three cameras. 11:02. Let’s get out of here, Diddy Riese.

Diddy Riese. Short line. Share a sandwich, taste all three. More laughs, more smiles. 11:48. “Would you like to be in our short documentary?” Are you sleep deprived? Yes, right now. Laughs, chats. Snapped Achilles? Interesting story. Visual journalism. So, so nice to meet you, good luck. 12:00. In the car, home. 12:20. Best. Weekend. Ever.