tobermory's Diaryland Diary


Helloooooo.... anybody out there?

I’ll try not to bore the pants off of you here because nothing particularly exciting has happened of late. The weekend was busy, as usual. Friday I went to the earring class where I amazed myself by making three pairs of earrings that I’d actually wear (in fact I have a pair on right now – silver with hematite if you must know). I thought I’d wind up with hideous lumpen things that wouldn’t even sell at a craft show, but I must declare that I enjoyed not only the outcome, but also the process. It was relaxing poking thought the containers of beads to find the right combinations. Not relaxing was the fact that they had the Norah Jones CD on ultra-forever-repeat play. No me gusto Norah Jones, raspy-voiced, frumpy little hippy chick that she is. We had dinner after class at Mama Thai which was, as expected, mouth-wateringly excellent, although the Norah Jonesish-ness followed me there and I heard at least one of her songs while I was eating dinner. It’s much easier to ignore bad music when you’re eating food that makes you happy than when you’re focusing. very. intensely. on stringing microscopic beads on skinny wire. To wind up the saga of Friday, all I have to say is that I love any Asian food place where I can put chunks of chicken in my mouth without having to worry about blobs of fat or gristle making me gag. I’m sure that just made your day – hope you weren’t eating at the time.

Saturday I slept late, went to the range (love those new limbs!) and went out to dinner with Steve at Tre Kroner a homey Swedish place near our house. We had all the best intentions of going to see The Cooler up in Highland Park after dinner, but there was too great of a time gap so we went home and watched some Netflix instead – The Others and In the Cut to be exact. The Others was OK – creepy in a good way, but not Nicole Kidman’s best effort. In the Cut was strange – I think this might have been the first of the “Meg Ryan doesn’t want to be America’s Sweetheart’ movies. There was a close up at the beginning of the movie of some oral gratification (no, not Meg Ryan – like she’d do that onscreen!) that quickly helped me figure out that the rating of UR was for ‘Unrated,’not something like ‘Unusually Restful’. Final verdict? Mark Ruffalo looked way too much like Burt Reynolds in this movie, and if you’ve ever wanted to know what Mey Ryan’s boobies look like this is a must-rent for you.

On Sunday Megan, Clark, Steve and I went Orienteering, which is basically a point-to-point cross country meet where you have to figure out how to get to the points by using a topographical map and a compass. Usually the meets are held in a forest preserve, but this meet was held in the parks around Lincoln Park Zoo. Instead of finding a ‘control’ with a number on it to record, there were questions about various landmarks. This was orienteering-lite which is nice for the first meet of the year. As a team we do pretty well – Megan is navigator supreme. Myself? I just kind of chug along for the exercise as I still don’t entirely know how to do the whole compass-orienting thing. For me, it’s mostly a hike with a purpose. If you’re interested, there’s probably a club near you and they usually have a beginners clinic to get you started. Just wait until I explain my other geeky hobby – Geocaching! After running around in the park and getting all sweaty, we ate breakfast and went to Tower Rocords. It was sort of strange to go into a store to buy CDs – I usually just use Amazon or Deep Discount. Stores are bad because I wander around and find things to buy – as opposed to having something in mind and buying just that off of a website. So $175 lighter, Steve and I went home so he could putter and I could nap. We met my parents for dinner at Michigan Shores for a St. Patrick’s Day dinner. The food was pretty good and they had the Shannon Rovers play – men in kilts just slay me. So snacky. There was a troop of Irish dancers too in dresses so hideous that I cannon even begin to explain – just think Celtic designs done not in beautiful natural colors and fibers, but in shocking color combinations with sequins and mirrors. Imagine if you will, disco-Celtic. These dresses were so patently offensive to me that I felt I must know just how much hideousness of the nature costs, so I Googled. Try about $950. Gah. For little girls about 8 years old. Yes there are second hand dresses, but even those cost about $700. Then there are the two pairs of shoes, special knee socks, and curly wigs (because regular hair apparently doesn’t bounce enough), and they must have some sort of special shorts or panties so that it’s not totally obscene when their skirts bounce up. Some perv with a panties fetish would be well served to start up an Irish dancing school.

Yesterday I went to the gym and did a Body Pump class and had an anime-girl-less Spin class. I’m hurtin’ today. Steve and I had no food in the house (OK – that’s kind of a lie. We do have some things in the freezer and loads of canned goods and pasta, but just about every possible meal either required some element that was not in the house or some major defrosting time. So after class when I just wanted to curl up in a smelly, sweaty ball and die, we went out to get a burger and to the grocery store. But now the larder is stocked. All I still need is lunchmeat because the deli was closed. And I’d like to find bananas that aren’t fluorescent green. And I forgot the cute little pearl onions for the stew I’m making some time this week.

Megan is abandoning me tonight (she has a massage) and so is Steve (client is taking him to dinner) so I guess I’ll truck down to the range by myself. I also need to pick up a giftie for Ms. Megan’s birthday celebration tomorrow. If I get home early enough, I might make the stew. Admit it. My life is just so scintillating and exciting that you wish you were me. For now, you’ll have to be content with reading about it. By the way, if you are reading this I implore you to encourage others to do so too. I’m an impatient boob, so I don’t know how to add the comments section or the notify list or the stats tracker, and I figure it would take too long to read the instructions to tell me how to do it. This means that I don’t know if anyone is reading this. Like most people, I like a good ego stroke so if you’re out there – use the Contact Me thingy and drop me a line. Maybe you can even tell me how those fancy html things work.

2:36 p.m. - 2004-03-16


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