Conspicuously missing from my blog this season: "So You Think You Can Dance" recaps. It's not because I don't want to write them--I actually think the build up to this year's top 20 episode has been uncommonly entertaining and talent-packed--it's just that by the time I get around to watching the episodes, who even cares any more? The top 20 was revealed last night, and I won't get to watch the show until tomorrow so for those fellow enthusiasts please don't spoil it for me, OK? I know the "green mile" is filled with terrible fake-outs and it's a relief when all that rigamarole is through, but the suspense in real time is part of the fun for me. Also if Fik-Shun or scrunchy face Katie Holmes or the big guy tapper who has made it all the way to the last round the last couple of years don't get picked I'd rather not know about it just yet. Thanks babes.
I realize how very else little I've got to say, so here's some Naughty by Nature to make it worth your sticking around (if you did).
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Little Rich Little
HR does one celebrity impersonation, and it's of this guy:
Charles Osgood, dapper bespectacled host of "CBS Sunday Morning." I've related my affinity for this show in the past, but now my child has signed on with his own seal approval. Until recently I thought the show was just the background part of our lazy Sunday ritual, him enjoying the intro with the Chuck Mangione horn solo (he calls it "The Trumpet Show") and me picking and choosing which segments would warrant my attention. This past Sunday though, when there was a fill-in for old Charles, HR was devastated. His favorite story for the past three days is reliving the moment when another person dared introduce the show. It's hilarious to me, and obvious that I'm raising my child to be kind of wiener, both in him liking the show and obsessing over the seemingly innocuous story. Oh, and the impression, which is basically him holding up a pair of fake glasses to his face and saying, "I'm Charles Osgood."
Wiener or no, I think the kid's got a bright future.
Charles Osgood, dapper bespectacled host of "CBS Sunday Morning." I've related my affinity for this show in the past, but now my child has signed on with his own seal approval. Until recently I thought the show was just the background part of our lazy Sunday ritual, him enjoying the intro with the Chuck Mangione horn solo (he calls it "The Trumpet Show") and me picking and choosing which segments would warrant my attention. This past Sunday though, when there was a fill-in for old Charles, HR was devastated. His favorite story for the past three days is reliving the moment when another person dared introduce the show. It's hilarious to me, and obvious that I'm raising my child to be kind of wiener, both in him liking the show and obsessing over the seemingly innocuous story. Oh, and the impression, which is basically him holding up a pair of fake glasses to his face and saying, "I'm Charles Osgood."
Wiener or no, I think the kid's got a bright future.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Oh Brotha
I don't like to talk about the particulars of my job, and I won't change that policy today, but I have to say my jaw is on the floor from the perfect storm of gnarliness that awaited my arrival this morning. I have not been personally wronged, there's just a whole lot of wrong in the air and we're doing our best to deal with it and move on.
Luckily I'm fortified with goodness following a weekend that included an hour long massage, a Greek festival (with loukemades to go, of course), beautiful weather, a book I can't put down and lots of time to hang out with my dudes. Go on and throw it at me, I am titanium.
Still, I'm really looking forward escaping to Maine this coming weekend, can't say I don't wish I were going today.
Luckily I'm fortified with goodness following a weekend that included an hour long massage, a Greek festival (with loukemades to go, of course), beautiful weather, a book I can't put down and lots of time to hang out with my dudes. Go on and throw it at me, I am titanium.
Still, I'm really looking forward escaping to Maine this coming weekend, can't say I don't wish I were going today.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Comedown
And so, it is over. And it was fine, even kind of fun in parts. I'm happy I don't have to work this sort of thing every day, but it's not like I was digging ditches. Everyone was pleasant and well behaved, based on initial reports we made some decent fundage, and I got home in time to spend a few minutes with HR before he had to go to bed. Plus I had the best diet coke of my life from the bar (I don't like soda much at all, the combination of thirst and caffeine withdrawal made all the difference) and I got to see a rainbow on the way home. The little things, you know.
Today is sort of chill, and I appreciate that most of all.
Have you ever seen the movie D.E.B.S? It's admittedly stupid, but I love it. And it has a great soundtrack. I think of it whenever I hear this legitimately great song.
Today is sort of chill, and I appreciate that most of all.
Have you ever seen the movie D.E.B.S? It's admittedly stupid, but I love it. And it has a great soundtrack. I think of it whenever I hear this legitimately great song.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Maybe I Should Re-Watch Caddyshack, For Professional Reasons
I just accidentally ate the entire order of thai basil and garlic chili sauce veggies over rice that my wonderful bosses bought for me. The dish made me do it, really, because it was so delicious and I just knew that no amount of reheating would restore that level of deliciousness. No regrets. Thai Binge 4 Life.
It's golf tournament central at the old workplace, as we gear up for our lone gigantic annual fundraising event, and though I disappeared into that gaping maw of preparation weeks ago, we're finally at zero hour. Or close enough. Tomorrow I'll be off site from dark until dark registering people and ringing up their silent auction purchases. There are two positives to this: 1) it'll be an interesting change of pace and 2) when the day is over, it'll be over. Until next year, anyway. Maybe there's even a third advantage, which the potential to get outside a bit. Other than that it'll be a long day, I might not get to set eyes on HR for its entirety, and if you have ever worked any kind of charity event you know there are always a few prerequisite entitled jerks. It just comes with the territory.
Oh bloody well. Off to find some breath mints (holy garlic!) and get my eyes back into spreadsheet focus.
It's golf tournament central at the old workplace, as we gear up for our lone gigantic annual fundraising event, and though I disappeared into that gaping maw of preparation weeks ago, we're finally at zero hour. Or close enough. Tomorrow I'll be off site from dark until dark registering people and ringing up their silent auction purchases. There are two positives to this: 1) it'll be an interesting change of pace and 2) when the day is over, it'll be over. Until next year, anyway. Maybe there's even a third advantage, which the potential to get outside a bit. Other than that it'll be a long day, I might not get to set eyes on HR for its entirety, and if you have ever worked any kind of charity event you know there are always a few prerequisite entitled jerks. It just comes with the territory.
Oh bloody well. Off to find some breath mints (holy garlic!) and get my eyes back into spreadsheet focus.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Anatomy of a Treat
A treat, to me, is a hot fudge sundae. A pedicure. A much-awaited book and uninterrupted time for getting lost in it. Running is not a treat. Not usually. But last night I got to run home from work in the zero-humidity beautiful evening, and it felt like all three of those other things combined. I didn't even want to listen to my ipod, just enjoy my thoughts and the sounds of the city.
It's all in the context. The aforementioned treats are categorized as such because they are rare, and the outdoor run has become an elusive butterfly in my current situation. It's not a complaint, just what it is. There was one time in my life where I identified as a runner, but now I'm firmly in the camp of "person who runs for exercise." I still get joy from the movement here and there, I'm never sorry that I did it after I've run, but it's hard to get excited about jumping on the treadmill at 9 p.m. when the couch seems like so much more reasonable of an option. I do love my treadmill, both for its convenience and its pesky tendency to cancel out my excuses ("I just don't feel like it" overpowers the machine's pull about a quarter of the time) but I tell you, having a chance to break out of the routine really helps. I'm hoping to get out and run more this summer, once a week at most, and even that will take some creative scheduling. Maybe I can pull it off.
Either way, no1curr what I'm doing or not doing. I'm just saying that if you live in the Greater Boston area and you like to do your workouts in the out-of-doors, there's never been a better time than now. If you can do your thing outside whenever you want to, dedicate a run to me. And reward yourself with whatever qualifies as a treat to you.
It's all in the context. The aforementioned treats are categorized as such because they are rare, and the outdoor run has become an elusive butterfly in my current situation. It's not a complaint, just what it is. There was one time in my life where I identified as a runner, but now I'm firmly in the camp of "person who runs for exercise." I still get joy from the movement here and there, I'm never sorry that I did it after I've run, but it's hard to get excited about jumping on the treadmill at 9 p.m. when the couch seems like so much more reasonable of an option. I do love my treadmill, both for its convenience and its pesky tendency to cancel out my excuses ("I just don't feel like it" overpowers the machine's pull about a quarter of the time) but I tell you, having a chance to break out of the routine really helps. I'm hoping to get out and run more this summer, once a week at most, and even that will take some creative scheduling. Maybe I can pull it off.
Either way, no1curr what I'm doing or not doing. I'm just saying that if you live in the Greater Boston area and you like to do your workouts in the out-of-doors, there's never been a better time than now. If you can do your thing outside whenever you want to, dedicate a run to me. And reward yourself with whatever qualifies as a treat to you.
Monday, June 3, 2013
The Fever
Every time I spend a weekend in Maine I come home and start half-heartedly perusing job listings up north. And every time I see my employment options, well, that straightens me out right quick. It is not practical for me to want to move to Maine, and there are lots of reasons I'm very attached to my current home, from the home itself to the city to the good friends we have made here. It's not just the job. Also, I don't want move farther away from Mike's family. But I can't shake the feeling that I belong back in the Pine Tree State. Not just because most of my family's there, I mean, that's a big part of it, but there is something about the place that has a hold over me for reasons I can't define and can't ignore. If I get to retire, maybe. Or if I win the lottery I'll establish a second residence. Barring those things, it's not all that far away, so we visit as much as we can. It's just always so dang hard to leave.
We had a really spectacular weekend up tha coast. To his credit, HR handled all the car travel pretty well, and has been solid as a rock with his potty training, even out of his element. We have to cart his duck potty everywhere because he refuses to entertain the idea of the Big Potty but I will carry that thing along until he's 20 until I have to because he uses it. I invite no superstition when I say that we've got us a housebroken boy.
Friday night we had a really fun night out in the city with my sibs and some friends, courtesy of the grandparental sitters' network. The rest of the time we hopped from one graduation party to the next, half enjoying/half complaining in the brutal heat and humidity. I think I might have drunk my weight in Miller Lite, and that's how summertime rolls. Mike had to come back to work on Saturday, which was a bummer, but I soldiered on in his stead, buoyed along by the kindness of my sister's hosting and my brother-in-law and father's driving skills. I'm so happy we had the chance to see everyone.
And now we're home and no matter how great it is to be in our own space doing our own thing, I'd always go back in a heartbeat. And actually, there are only a few thousand heartbeats until my next visit--a bittersweet, but much awaited one--for Niki's memorial.
All in all, I'm feeling good today, even on a Monday. At this point in my life, I've lived in Massachusetts longer than I lived there, but Maine will always be home to me. For the record, though, I'm not going anywhere, any time soon.
We had a really spectacular weekend up tha coast. To his credit, HR handled all the car travel pretty well, and has been solid as a rock with his potty training, even out of his element. We have to cart his duck potty everywhere because he refuses to entertain the idea of the Big Potty but I will carry that thing along until he's 20 until I have to because he uses it. I invite no superstition when I say that we've got us a housebroken boy.
Friday night we had a really fun night out in the city with my sibs and some friends, courtesy of the grandparental sitters' network. The rest of the time we hopped from one graduation party to the next, half enjoying/half complaining in the brutal heat and humidity. I think I might have drunk my weight in Miller Lite, and that's how summertime rolls. Mike had to come back to work on Saturday, which was a bummer, but I soldiered on in his stead, buoyed along by the kindness of my sister's hosting and my brother-in-law and father's driving skills. I'm so happy we had the chance to see everyone.
And now we're home and no matter how great it is to be in our own space doing our own thing, I'd always go back in a heartbeat. And actually, there are only a few thousand heartbeats until my next visit--a bittersweet, but much awaited one--for Niki's memorial.
All in all, I'm feeling good today, even on a Monday. At this point in my life, I've lived in Massachusetts longer than I lived there, but Maine will always be home to me. For the record, though, I'm not going anywhere, any time soon.
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