Frequent Citations

Delightful

The offspring came out for Thanksgiving and it was great to see them.  We spent a lot of time pondering upcoming ventures abroad (and how to pay for same), and a lot of time playing cards, and (some of us) a lot of time sleeping.

TFL cooked all day and made pheasant (!) and turkey and stuffing.  I made a salad.  Boy made rolls (and learned about yeast's temperature sensitivity) and a pie.  GirlChild and I hung artwork.  Yep, just a traditional down-home holiday...

I barely worked at all yet still somehow didn't have time to return my library book.  It's getting to the point where every time I hear sirens I think it's the police coming to arrest me for my overdue book -- you know, the library police.  I could have bought it five times for the fines I'm probably racking up.

Anyway, back to the topic:  it was great to have everyone together again.  It was horrifying to realize that we were so distracted/absentminded/unnaturally unfilial that we failed to call ANY of our near and dear relatives such as, you know, PARENTS.  We are very, very bad and filled with sorrow, and hope you know that as delightful as it was to see our kids, the week would have been more delightful still if we'd managed to pick up the phone.

(Of course we all realize that the solution is that we need to see our kids more often so that we're not so darn distracted when they are here -- that's obvious, right?)

Nice To Be Missed, I Guess

I'm back at work, and back in the whirl.  We filed the reply in one matter, got a production out in another matter, I was handed clean-up duties for someone else's project, and on top of that I got a call from a Very Important Person who I've worked for in the past and wanted me to go back and do a little more of the same.  Yeow.

It seems a little crazier than usual, but I got a lucky break or two that turned this week from potentially horrendous into possibly not bad.  We'll see how it goes.

In other news:  vacation was a stolen suitcase, a ton of driving, a few family bashes, a horrible football game on a perfect football afternoon, a lightening round of successful shopping, wrestling with cranky technology, and evaluating a (terrible) manuscript.  We got to see both kids, which was awesome, and it was good to get out of town -- and good to be back.

Nervous

I'm on a real vacation for the first time, and I just realized that it's making me very nervous.  What's happening at work while I'm gone?  Are they realizing they don't need me?  Are they deciding other people can do a better job at what I do? 

I'm not saying my nervousness is rational.  It just is.

But I am on vacation, visiting family, reading novels, watching movies, getting bags stolen, and trying to pick a stove to replace the one in the condo.  I had no idea stoves were so expensive.  Ouch!  TFL went off in a different direction for a few days to see his family, and I'm glad he had a chance to see them but I've decided I'm not a fan of his leaving me on my own.  Clearly, I brood, and become nervous.  Happily, he's coming back to where I am tomorrow.

In other news:  we had a sort of family reunion at my father's birthday bash and you'll all be happy to know that we're as rowdy and eccentric as ever.  It was the first time my brothers and I have been together in quite a few years, actually.  The important thing, of course, is that everyone liked my shoes no one cried my father had a great time.  In fact, he did, and that was all the rest of us wanted.

Spiffy in S.ho

One of my brothers runs a little garden system upstate.  The system was designed by the same minor deity who designed the Park I can once again see from my office. 

He blows into town from time to time (the brother, not the minor deity) for various events and meetings and, tonight, a fundraiser.  It's a cocktail party at a loft.  Said loft is owned by some Famous Person (of whom I'd never heard but I barely watch tv) and is therefore in a Highly Fashionable part of town.

Obviously, outfit and shoes were going to be critical issues.  Happily, they were dealt with long ago.  I'll be sporting a very closely fitted black suit (with a shocking pink lining in the jacket) and deep burgundy 4+" heels, and TFL will still be taller (even when he slouches). 

I'm thinking we may have to do dinner after.

Stolen and Socked

TFL lost his cell phone.  He set it down and it vanished.  It's possible that he blames me for distracting him at a crucial moment, but we're not going to discuss that.

Cell phones have transformed modern living and opened up a whole new world of unconscionable contracts.  The phones last one year, the contracts last two, and every time you turn around you're going to get socked with extra charges.  On the plus side ... ok, cell phones make it easier to coordinate with people when you're on the go.  But there is no upside to the horrible, nasty little contracts they foist upon us.

TFL had one of those pretty, sleek, unforgiveably expensive phones.  I called it Jeeves, because it was incredibly useful and knew the answer to everything.  TFL is at the store now, hoping to replace it without actually having to sell GirlChild.  He might come home short a limb, though.

Me, I'm still limping along with my stone-age phone: no camera, no nothing.  It barely gets and sends calls, but that's good enough.

Anyway, it's possible he's lost a lot of info because he didn't have it synched, so feel free to call him over the next few days to make sure he has all the relevant and important details of whatever. 

The Good And The Bad Of New Shoes

I've been on a mission for months-- a mission to find nude pumps.  I even went all the way to the Capital in my search (visiting great friends may have been part of that plan too), only to find that the Ultimate Shoestore with the Darlingest Shoes Ever was closed.  Permanently.  Gone for ever.  The tragedy!  The pain and angst!  The frustrated longings for sweet pumps embellished with absurd bows and rhinestones!

Oh.  Right.  Those weren't on my list.  Just a pair of plain, elegant, nude pumps that will go with everything.  So I went to Zappos (while still visiting my friend who was also now in deepest mourning for the Ultimate Shoestore) and found The Pumps.

They might be the most ridiculous pair of absolutely uber-plain nude pumps ever.  A 4"+ stiletto will do that (the picture doesn't quite do them justice). I had to check with 3 different people who each confirmed that they were work-appropriate.  They came about 2 seconds after I ordered them, waiting for me when I got home, so of course I wore them at work immediately where they perfectly suited an outfit comprised of a fawn-colored jacket, pink blouse, and black skirt.  I got oodles of compliments too.

Obviously, so far it's been all about the good of new shoes.  So the bad, you ask?  I promised this would be my last shoe purchase for A While.  As in, possibly months.  And in all honesty, I probably do have all the shoes I actually need at the moment.  But it does rather take the shine off the new shoes, to think they'll be the last until some undetermined but far away point in the future.

In other news:  some people need to be smacked upside the head.  They probably have a sneaking suspicion of who they are but will die before admitting it.  TFL is rocking the new firm, where they've been about as quick as people usually are to realize that he basically walks on water.  But his profession being what it is, we cross our fingers everyday that he keeps his job.  Friends of ours from waaaaay back might be coming to town next month, about which I am so excited I might forget about the whole shoe thing for minutes at a time.  And I'm way behind in knowing what's happening in Boy's oh-so-full-of-drama love life. 

I Like:

Madison by Dolce Vita

They're Making Me Move

Here it is, my first official complaint about work (remarks about hours don't count):  they're making me move offices!  Something about wanting people in the same practice group together, blah blah blah.

I'll lose my view of the park, my fab office mate, AND my shelves and my file cabinets!  You just don't know how bad this is.  In fact, it's SO bad that I'm actually going to make an official complaint.  If they can't at least get me real shelves and file cabinets, then . . . well, then I might cry. 

I really am very very bummed. 

In other news -- days are very long.  I need a new motorcycle jacket.  I got my hair trimmed.  I miss my kids.  TFL is as handsome as ever.  Dogness is getting white hair in her eyebrows.  The fireworks were right outside our window and phenomenal.

You Would Think I'd Remember

That, you know, I have a blog.

A place to write down the happenings of my life and frivolities.

And entertain you with stories of my parents coming to visit and falling in love with the Emerald City while they charmed waiters and critiqued the ballet and delighted in the Park.

Well.  It was a great visit.  We're still eating leftovers.  And now work has arisen up and smacked me over the head, and I'm wondering when I'll next get to the grocery store and whether I can possibly cram 72 hours into the next 48.  And maybe I'm feeling a wee bit one-dimensional, as TFL was at some international shin-dig tonight and seems to have had a great time making friends.

But for now I'll spend a bit of my precious sleeping time watching "You've Got Mail" just because.

Avoiding Children Like The Plague

One of the schools with a confirmed case of the flu is basically up the street from us.  Well, up the street a ways, but now that I think about it we were within half a mile of it on our walk on Sunday.

So.

It's one of the better excuses I've found for avoiding snot-nosed little squirts.  (Not that I'm around them anyway, these days.)

Of course, my own darling children are coming to visit--in fact, Boy arrives this week!--and I shall not be avoiding them.  Unless they start coughing or barfing.

In other news:  work progresses, taking up most of my waking hours and then some.  I went for a ride this weekend, though, and wound up with a mild case of heat stroke which, of course, means only one thing:  I need a new, lightweight motorcycle jacket.  TFL said so!  I could be practical and go for a water-repellent jacket with pads.  Or I could look around for a thin, pretty little leather jacket that I could wear all the time. 

On The Easter Parade

It really does exist, and we went.  It's the most charmingly chaotic affair ever, absolutely no organizing principle, not a parade so much as a milling about.

It was all a little crazy, but some of the hats were beautiful, not just silly.

TFL and I had a great time.