Archive | May, 2010

Apparently the blond doesn’t come entirely from a box.

31 May

I will tell you now that this is 100% true. And it’s horribly, horribly embarrassing. Especially for someone who prides herself on competence and logic. So here goes…

I’m selling my place tomorrow (knock wood). The buyer is slated to do her walk-through inspection at 2pm and then meet me at the settlement table near the end of the day. Everything needs to be in normal working order, and the repairs I agreed to during the home inspection (all minor) need to be complete.

So imagine my consternation today when – on my way out the door to hit a yoga class – I attempted to run a load in the dishwasher and nothing happened. I fooled with it for a bit and realized that the latch was somehow broken, because it wouldn’t catch and seal the door properly.

I ran to yoga, the whole time thinking, damndamndamn. That dishwasher has been great for ten years. Wouldn’t you know that it would crap out NOW, 24 hours before I’m supposed to sell this place?

During my downward-facing dogs, I kept chewing on the problem. It’s just the latch, I told myself, I’ll take a crack at fixing it.

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Why I’m grateful to be packing…

30 May

I’m supposed to be packing this weekend. Grrr.

Loading up boxes is NOT fun. But you know what is even less fun? Being evicted.

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Club Sandwiches? Yes. Club Thumbs? No thanks.

29 May

Something I’m thankful for:

Not having clubbed thumbs.

I know, it’s petty. But this morning in yoga, the woman next to me had clubbed thumbs and although (presumably) she’s had 40+ years to adjust to them, she definitely took pains to keep them hidden as much as possible throughout her practice. When our hands were extended toward the ceiling, she would bend her thumb and hide it behind her other four fingers.

And no, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t doing that because she could feel my curious eyes burning holes in them. I was discreet.

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Random Thought: Do Cry Babies Win?

27 May

It doesn't look quite so precious when you're pushing 40.

At the airport Monday, I was struck by the number of crying children who were old enough to speak and communicate their needs, but instead wailed.

Instead of getting irritated and leveling the parents with a deadly gaze, I instead wondered: Is crying a natural human reaction that we simply are conditioned away from by societal pressure?

Recently I’ve been under a lot of stress and while I’m not typically a crier, the thought of just sobbing when I hit my limit seems like it would be very cathartic. I am considering field-testing this with difficult clients, demanding colleagues, exhausting friends, slow-moving strangers, and anyone who happens to cross my path when I need to pee.

Discuss amongst yourselves.

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List: THINGS That Make Me Happy When I Travel

26 May

I’m reading (and loving) “No Impact Man” right now. Between this book and my recent viewing of The History of Stuff, I’m becoming horrifyingly aware of my consumption of THINGS – and the resources that go into making them. So it is with a certain degree of guilt that I write this list of THINGS That Make Me Happy When I Travel.

• My iPhone: How did I ever fully explore a place before I could take a walk with my iPod playlist, switch over to find out what dining options were close to me, check the hours of the museums and take a picture of the best-smelling flower garden I’ve ever walked through?

• Alarm Clocks with iPod Docks: Yes, I seem to be Steve Jobs’ pimp tonight. It’s true that I Apple. But on this one, I’m just saying: there are three things that I know that make a hotel room feel like home and one of them is your own music pumping out a speaker. The second thing is…

• A Travel Candle: Nothing worse than a hotel room that smells like disinfectant (unless it’s a room that smells like it NEEDS disinfectant). And the third thing is…

• My Slippers: Without them, I pace my hotel in flipflops or walk on tip-toe like a ballerina, scared I’ll contract some disease from carpet that may or may not have a certain stickiness to it.

• My Fuzzy Socks: For in-flight comfort. There is nothing that makes people more envious than shucking off my shoes and peeling on my plush, striped “Where’s Waldo” socks. Not only do they keep my otherwise cold feet warm, they just make the plane feel more homey. And let’s face it – no one is going to ask me to handle their soda or peanuts after they see me slide my fingers between my toes.

• A Bag of Candy: Can’t help it. A trip doesn’t feel like a trip if I don’t have some variety of sugar to toss back by the handful. (And I can be polite and offer candy to strangers, but I’ve never had one accept. Wonder why?)

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