(Almost) 30 Posts in 30 Days

We did it!

30(26)posts in 30 days!

(26 is close enough)

Are you sick of me yet?

Then you're out of luck - I actually had fun and might keep up this daily (or semi-daily, as the case may be) blogging habit.

Murphy's Law, Arizona Style

We finally washed the car on Friday afternoon.

*cue applause*

Thank you, thank you.

It hadn't been washed since about May. It's a nice light color, which I like to say hides the dirt. But the hiding that occurs is sort of like when a small child "hides" behind a flagpole - doesn't quite cover it all. (Translation: my car really, really needed to be washed).

So we take it into Danny's, the place in town that does the works - last time they got done with my tires The Mister kept telling people they were Pirelli's they were so shiny. [The Mister's edit: That's because they ARE Pirelli's. The added handling is a must for a hybrid.] (My edit: What The Mister means to say is that the guy at Discount Tire was a pro at the up-sell.) Everything was spotless afterwards and it all smells so fresh and clean.

While we were there waiting to pay, I noticed a small sign near the cash register about a 24-hour rain check policy. That amused me. It rains so infrequently in Arizona that I can't imagine how annoyed I would be if it rained RIGHT after I got a car wash. Apparently, it's such an extraordinary stroke of bad luck that the car wash people will do another one on the house, as long as it's within the 24 hours.

Anyway, I drove away in my fresh, clean-smelling, shiny car.

And 25 hours later, it rained.

In Sarahtopia

My Benediction

This Thanksgiving, may you:

Unbutton your pants BEFORE they pop

Not undercook the turkey

Have a fancy apron to cook in

Not be the person stuck next to the really opinionated relative

Not BE the really opinionated relative

Not worry so much about the dishes

Enjoy the ability to show love and hospitality to friends and family by filling their bellies

Be thankful

(really, really thankful)

I even read War and Peace

If I could go anywhere in the world right now, I would want to go to St. Petersburg.

Russia has always fascinated me. The history is totally unique - neither Asian nor European.

And all the fur hats and vodka and Tolstoy and Rachmaninov make me think that Russians are way cooler than we give them credit for.

Think about it.

100% true story

The Mister and I have been working hard on our Spanish. Both of us have always wanted to speak another language, and we currently nurture dreams for the not-too-distant future that include spending lots of time in Spain. Anyway, so we're at the point in our learning where what we really need are live conversations, mainly to help us improve our confidence.

So we found a few Spanish meetup groups on meetup.com (by the way, meetup.com is a little like the public library; awesome resource that not enough people use. We are in two Spanish meetups and a photography group and they have thousands of groups on all different themes: cooking, scrapbooking, reading, football, stay-at-home bilingual moms, and so on. In the internet age, there's truly no excuse for being bored or not having any place to meet new friends. So go on, and go forth).

So last night was our first night at this particular Spanish learning group. We timidly gave our competency level at beginner/intermediate, which turned out to be a mistake, as we're probably more like intermediate/advanced for this particular group. I don't feel braggy saying that, because I know that everyone here knows the feeling of fitting into a smaller size jeans that they thought they were, and this was exactly like that, so you all understand.

So we ended up doing a lot of worksheets, which we were a little bored with, to be honest, until we recieved a new list of phrases to translate.

You're very nice.

You're great.

At this point I'm thinking: "Oh, how nice! We're learning to be friendly."

You're very attractive.

I'm interested in you.

I like you very much.

"Well, that's a bit forward."

Do you like me too?

Can I kiss you?

Will you take me home?

"Hang on..."

Do you want to come inside for awhile?

Is this a local or national custom?

At this point, if you think The Mister and I weren't nearly purple from holding in our belly laughs, then you don't know The Mister and I very well. I was trying so hard to avoid eye contact with him, because I knew I would lose it completely if I did. My whole body was shuddering from the effort.

I'm not used to this.

I don't mind watching but I'd rather not join in.

I'll try it.

The Mister leans over: "Are we on candid camera?"
And, finally:

I'm sorry. It's against my religion.

And with that, we lost it.

Confessions

Slightly Embarrassing Monday confessions:

1. I don't like pets much. Sorry.
2. I don't love chocolate. Brownies and chocolate cake and all that are good, but the idea of a Hershey's kiss or an M&M is just - ugh.
3. I saw the Twilight movie this weekend and, um....I sort of liked it. Great cinema it is not (nor great literature, by a long shot), but, um....I just like them.
   
4. Do you still like me?

Cold Tangerines

I love, love, love this book. A friend of mine gave it to me a few months ago and I drank it up. I loved it so much that I emailed the author and told her just how much I loved it (I never do that).

It's a book about celebration - about how life is meant to be not just lived but lived - told in a series of funny and sad and beautiful personal essays.

It would make a fantastic Christmas present, book club pick, devotional, bedside standard or anything else you care to make it. Throughout the holiday season, the author Shauna Niequest is offering pretty huge discounts for signed copies at her website. (So cool to be able to gift signed copies - so fancy!) You can find all the details there - truly, I couldn't recommend it more!

(Oh, and yes. She emailed me back. And she seems just as likeable as her book)

In Sarah-topia

My friend Jacob likes to think about what would happen in his perfect world. He calls it Jacobtopia (he's a little off-kilter though).


In Sarahtopia, the whole world would smell like clean laundry.

Coming home is the best part of my day

Yesterday.

I started out in rather disastrous fashion (remember?).

After my skin biopsy in the afternoon, I was hosting several new guests - stitches in my back. I've had them done on my back before, and it's a tough place. Hard to sit or position yourself comfortably for the first day or so.

So The Mister got a spot all fixed up on the couch, and made me some whole wheat buttermilk pancakes with homemade apple butter on top of them. He got me glass after glass of water when I wanted it, so as not to make me get up and jostle the wound, and he got a heating pad and laid it on my cold feet.

Later, when my wound started bleeding, he stayed calm even though my shirt had a growing golf-ball sized pool of blood on it, and made me lay down on the floor while he applied pressure to it and tried to keep me warm at the same time.

He got me more Advil, and helped me get dressed for bed. Because he was scared of re-opening my wound, he couldn't get close to me and snuggle, which is the way we like to sleep, all warm and cuddled together like puppies.

And so we fell asleep holding hands.

And that's how it became kind of a good day after all.

The No Good Very Bad...oh, you get the rest

Today. 10:38 a.m. My statement to the world is that I am a mess this morning. A MESS I tell you.

7:32: The Mister wakes me up. "I forgot to set the alarm" he mumbles.

7:38: Roll reluctantly out of bed.

7:41: Halfway dressed. I wasn't going to shower because a.) my hair looked good and that's most of the reason we shower anyway, let's be honest. b.) I sit at a desk all day. I'm not exactly out branding cattle. I showered yesterday, and I am still clean. c.) I wake up at 7:30 every day in order to get to work by 8:00. Sacrifices must be made.

7:42: Realize I MUST shower because I'm getting a small skin biopsy done today and I can't shower for 24 hours afterwards - that would push my shower gap past the 2 day point - awkward for everybody.

7:43: Undress. Invade The Mister's shower, which he shares with surprising grace.

7:49: The Mister kisses me goodbye and leaves. I'm supposed to be at work in 11 minutes and instead I'm halfway dressed and have sopping wet hair.

7:52: Change pants. First pair I spilled tea on last week.

7:54: Change pants AGAIN. Second pair covered in red lint from a particularly fuzzy couch blanket.

8:01: Hair and makeup.

8:09: LATE! Rush around. Can't find purse.

8:10: Stop dead in tracks. Realize that I locked my purse in the trunk of my car last night during a family photo session for safekeeping. And never took it out. Still locked in the trunk.

8:11: Realize this means I have no keys, no phone, no way to get to work, and no way to call The Mister to tell him of my predicament.

8:20: He finally gets to work, and sees flashing "EMAIL ME ASAP I NEEEEEED YOU" emails in work inbox.

8:22: Tells me where to find spare key. Yes! He doesn't have to come home...whew.

8:25: Run back in house three times: once to get coffee mug and cell phone charger (phone dead from being on in car all night), then to get sunglasses, then to lock the door.

8:37: Get to work. 37 minutes late - not too bad. Boss has been warned via email and is sympathetic.

9:17: Realize hastily-packed lunch of chicken soup has leaked all over desk (haven't put it in fridge yet)

10:08: Realize earrings coordinate with pair of pants #2 and most definitely not with pair of pants #3.

10:16: Find cell phone charger in office refrigerator (must have put it in next to the chicken soup?)

Sigh.
Laugh.
Cry.
Eat a cookie.
(No, seriously, go make those cookies. My day is better because I know they're waiting for me at home.)
Laugh again.
Sigh.

The Blank Page

I love to write. Some people express themselves through painting, or cooking, or music or photography. My preferred medium is words. It doesn't mean that my words always sound good, but just that I like arranging them. From the time I was young I was fascinated with language - the living, breathing nature of it, the barely restrained possibility in endless combinations of letters and spaces and sounds. String them together in just the right way and a sentence unfolds perfectly, like a morning glory on a dewy June dawn. Miss a few, and the beauty is somehow slightly off kilter, the secret ingredients missing, even if only the author every really senses it.

Sometimes this ingrained desire to write feels like a blessing - usually when the words come easily, and I get lost in the beauty of the rhythms of sound and thought and language. And sometimes, it feels like a cross to bear. These are usually the days when I have something I want to write, need to write, and all I end up doing is staring listlessly at a blank page, wondering where and how to start.

On these days, I just wish I were a really good cook.

Anyway, I need to come up with another article for Got2BGreen.com - an article about green living. And I can't think of anything at all.

So - I need you! Thoughts? Suggestions? Please? What green topic would YOU like to read about?

The Good Kind of Advice

I discovered this blog the other day called Rules for My Unborn Son. The author is witty and wise and full of good advice. Some of my personal favorites:

Best of all, he recently turned this list into a book, which has the coolest book cover I've seen in a long time. So old school.

Anyway, check it out. It could be a great Christmas present, graduation present, baby shower present - or just get it for yourself and enjoy it!

Seriously, Watch It

Last night The Mister and I watched Food, Inc.

And we are supposed to eat burgers and hot dogs today at a tailgate party.

YOU tell ME how that's gonna work.

Boiling It Down to the Essentials

I loathe:

Waking up before dawn on a February morning and knowing you will have to scrape the ice off your freezing car's windshield before you commute to work, all the while seeing your breath in your unheated car.

Waking up before dawn on a February morning and knowing you will have to scrape the ice off your freezing car's windshield before you commute to work.

Waking up before dawn on a February morning and knowing you will have to scrape the ice off your freezing car's windshield.

Waking up before dawn on a February morning.

Waking up before dawn.

Waking up.