Melancholy

A few lousy days on top of a bad weekend on top of a few rough months have left me angry and depressed, and I try not to spew that kind of angst on this blog. There's enough negativity in the world without me adding to it.

So as soon as I shake off my funk we'll be back to our regularly scheduled program. In the meantime, thanks for your patience.

Indulgence

Today I made a brunch of pancakes (the classic Joy of Cooking recipe that my dad always made growing up) studded with fresh blueberries (purchased at the Mercato yesterday) and drizzled with real maple syrup (smuggled back on a plane by yours truly from the East coast because they do it better there), plus pepper-crusted bacon (mmm... bacon) and mimosas with hand-squeezed OJ (we seem to have lost our elecric citrus juicer during our exodus for fumigation, which is sad since it's probably the most frequently used appliance in our house)...

All while still in my PJs.

Contrition

Dear Daylight Savings Time,

I know I said some hurtful things on Monday morning. Things we probably both regret.

But I've had some time to think about it, and maybe I don't really hate you.

Maybe you're right. Maybe the fact that it's still light out when I leave work late is worth a few painfully-early-feeling mornings.

I hope we can put all this animosity behind us.

Love and hugs,
L

Argentine

My brother and I worked out together at lunch today. He's kind enough to let me prattle on about crap like why I love my new running shirt for ten minutes straight. (At least until he picks up our pace enough to ensure I can't get enough oxygen to breathe anymore, much less speak. I'm sure that's not at all strategic on his part though.)

Anyway, he still manages to keep our conversations interesting. (Despite my best efforts to bore him to death.)

***

Me: So did I tell you what I love about my new workout shirt?

JB: No, I don't believe you did. Unless it's that it's super light-weight and breathable. You might have mentioned that. Four or five times.

Me: That too, but it also has this technology where they weave silver or something into the fibers.

JB: Silver? Does that give it a higher SPF rating?

Me: No, it helps it repel...

JB: Vampires!

Me: What? No, odor. It helps repel stinky sweat odor.

JB: And vampires.

Me: Yes, it repels odor and vampires. Which is a valid concern when you're working out in Southern California. Outside. In the middle of the afternoon.

***

Wait, isn't it werewolves who are allergic to silver anyway? Crap. We'd better get that figured out before I walk into a nest of vampires thinking my (amazingly light-weight and breathable) running shirt is going to protect me.

Culling

This weekend I tried on everything I don't wear regularly and ditched anything I wouldn't buy all over again if I was trying it on in a store today. Sure I saved a few things for sentimental reasons, but I've already filled two whole garbage bags with clothing to donate and I have more still to go!

Let me explain. (And this is where the crazy starts, so if you're adverse to insanity, now might be the time to avert your eyes.)

Evicted

After three years, I still feel fairly new to life in California. Lots of things about living here still surprise me or strike me as odd.

For example, having grown up in Ohio and upstate New York, it's still a miracle to me that I'm not buried in 4+ feet of snow 9 months out of the year.

Also, there are basically no insects here except for a few spiders. (Yes, I know spiders aren't technically insects, but Webster promises that they fit under the "non-technical" definition of insects. Roll with me on this one.) And apparently termites.

Because we got a letter informing us that we have termites and thus the condo association was going to fumigate our building and we'd need to find alternate housing for three days.

Nomenclature

I think I've mentioned before that I volunteer for a Swedish cultural center. Lately I've been helping plan their Easter brunch. The best part? They call it Eggsexa. I may just have the sense of humor of a 12-year old boy, but I'm pretty sure that's never going to get old...

Seriously thought, I'm pretty sure that's the best name for a party. Ever.

Allegories (or is it Allusions?)

I just tried to convince one of my consultants that his broken Word document was like the platform for the train to Hogwarts. You know, Platform # 9¾? The one that’s invisible, but if you run straight at the very real-seeming wall, you magically don’t crash headfirst into brick but instead end up where you want to go? You know the one I mean.

Only in this case he needed to delete something that didn’t seem to exist in order to fix his problem. (He had a mysterious extra section break that was throwing off his page numbering, if you must know.)

Anyway, the metaphor made more sense in my head. Before I tried to explain it.

Maybe I need better allegories. Or is it allusions? Crap. Now I have to go find literary works to cite that aren’t written for pre-teens AND a dictionary. Lame.

Linguistics

For the first time ever in a single week, I’ve gotten to use every foreign language I know: French, Spanish and Italian on the job, Swedish at the cultural center where I volunteer, and sign language giving a deaf stranger directions.

And here I thought I was just learning languages for fun.