My empirical evidence is this: I have no idea how the hell I get the comforter and other assorted cold-weather accoutrements packed away that neatly and compactly. Next Spring I need someone to make videos of the stowage process so I can figure this out. I think someone breaks into my house and tidies things. No one is that fucking neat.
Category Archives: true life 2008
alligator!
I was walking down the sidewalk last night (from stage left to right in this picture) and there was a large carton blocking the view of this part of the sidewalk until I was past it.
Consequently, I didn’t see the “alligator” until I was stepping over the tail and my brain processed what it was. Or wasn’t, as the case may be. It wasn’t a terribly large critter, but it was enough to startle me.
Baboons
As I’ve been mentioning for years and years, if I woke up tomorrow in complete remission I’d hop on a plane and go be a foster mom to some baboons for a while. To which people say, huh? I’m pleased to see yesterday’s Washington Post Magazine article, “Learning to Speak Baboon – The most maligned of primates has a name that is synonymous with stupid and a snouted face that only a mother could love. Well, maybe a surrogate mother.” Maybe more people will want to help the baboons.
bloggity, blog, blog
Rather ironic that I’m off to a blogging conference at a time when my blog has been full of so much fluff. Fluffier fluff than usual, even. My deranged determination to not fail the blog365 challenge has led to some pretty lite posts, I know, but I’d like a gold star for not missing any days throughout kidney surgery and that demonic respiratory virus earlier this month and, last but not least, the ruptured tendon that made typing less than enjoyable for the last few weeks.
Wait, no, I haven’t soldiered on because of blog365, I did it because I love you, my loyal readers. It’s all about you, lieblings. It’s always all about you. I do this for you, and only you.
Yeah, right.
OK. So, while I’m gone, here’s the Washington Post’s Sunday Source piece on thrift shopping.
Incidentally, if you wear an 8 1/2 or 9 and have very skinny calves – last week Veronica and I spotted a divine pair of high-heeled, tall, red leather boots at the first store they mention, Look Again Resale (900 King St., Alexandria).
But I digress. The point of this post is to direct you to a couple of the very fun thrifting blogs they gave a little well-deserved love to in one of the article’s sidebars. My favorites are Righteous (re)Style and the DC Goodwill Fashion Blog.
This all comes full circle, at least in my mind, since I thought BlogHer DC was Tuesday, and I’d be able to fit a quick trip to Goodwill into my day on Monday to drop a few bags of clothes off that are ready to find a new home. On the upside, now my Tuesday is pretty wide open…
My Reputation & the Hamiltonian Gallery Opening
I don’t have much to say about our jaunt over to the hipster-infested Hamiltonian Gallery opening . It was a worthy outing, though we didn’t stay long. It was nice to go to an opening where we know maybe 10% of the crowd, 15% tops. The show was packed, which was great, but it was hard to see the art so I don’t have much to say about it right now. I’d really like to install Nao Matsumoto’s “8” but Husband won’t let me buy it. (Go here and click on the thumbnails of the big yellow and black insect heads in the sculpture section, you can’t miss them). We chatted briefly with the artist, who seemed like a nice guy. It was also nice to chat with an artist who didn’t use the conversation as an opportunity to tell me everything that’s wrong with the DC art scene and then stand there staring at me as though I could snap my fingers and fix it with my magic powers. OK, I could snap my fingers and fix it, I just choose not to. I think I’ll say that next time the opportunity arises.
So, instead of discussing the art I didn’t really see, I’ll mention something amusing that happened recently. Husband was gone for a week and, not an hour after I put him on the plane, I got the first phone call from one of our friends making sure I had things to eat in the house. I probably got two to three calls a day from people making sure I was eating. We have very nice friends. Polite ones, as well, ’cause lets be real – I’m not exactly going to waste away to nothing in a week. I’m apparently the human equivalent of Paris Hilton’s chihuahua. I just sit around looking adorable and waiting for food to appear before me. Most of the time, it works. Now if you’ll pardon me, dinner just appeared before me…