Pickles & Dimes

Things I say that define my Minnesotanocity:

1. Cripes

As in, “I can see Buscher hitting a homerun, but Harris? Cripes.”

2. Pop

“I’ve been good all week, so I’m going to let myself have a pop. Or four.”

3. Yay, hotdish!

4. Stupid North Dakota drivers!

(It’s OK, I lived in ND for 4 years. I can say this.)

5. God, I hate the Packers/Bears/Yankees/White Sox, etc.

Things the cats do that are weird:

1. Play dead (Sunny)

2. Harass me until I cave into their demand to lint roll them (Abby)

3. Drag mini Beanie Babies around the house (Abby)

4. Burrito themselves under our comforter (Sunny)

5. Hunt for bugs in the sliding door crevice, giving themselves dusty, accurate Hitler mustaches (both)

I have been threatened by the co-author of this blog that if I do not update it, he will be shutting it down and putting a note on here that says, “It was a good ride. Thanks for the memories.”

So, crappy updates for everyone!

My hair is at that stage where it is still considered “short,” but yet every morning I think, “This hair. It is too LONG.” Today my bangs are at the precise length where they’re not long enough to tuck behind my ears and yet they magically fall directly into my eyes whenever I put my head down. Don’t put my head down, you say? Well, I edit for a living, so unless I tape my work to a wall and stand across from it, it is unavoidable.

After repeatedly trying to unsuccessfully tuck my bangs behind my ears (Bangs: “No, we have not grown enough in the last 4 seconds for this to work, idiot”), I remembered I had a bobby pin in my purse. And then I looked at my desk and saw a pair of scissors. The scissors were closer. Much closer.

However, the unglamorous bobby pin WON, but it was thisclose.

Yesterday it was humid and sticky and hot and gross and dusty, so naturally I decided to mow the lawn. The lawnmower actually started on my very first pull, but something must’ve been wrong with it, because it felt about 200 pounds heavier to push around. Jason and I have been working out for nearly two weeks now and instead of feeling stronger, I was wheezing and hot and sweaty and at one point, felt a sharp pain in my upper chest that I convinced myself was the precursor to a heart attack. And yet I didn’t dare stop the mower, because what if I couldn’t get it started again? So I kept going, convinced I was going to die on our lawn, and then Jason came home and glanced at my beet-red face and sweaty arms and said, “Um, are you OK?”

And I said, “Water. Now.” And drank ¾ of the bottle in one swig and dumped the rest over my head like a marathon runner. Man, it was hot. Also, I am still way out of shape.

Anecdote of the day: Sunny was cuddling with us on the bed this morning, trying to nudge us up earlier to feed her. She was mostly ignoring me, but constantly giving Jason head butts and wet noses to his head. At one point he leaned toward her to give her a kiss and realized something was…off.

She had her butt in his face. BWAHAHAHAHHAHA.

After having the bi-weekly debate with myself about, “Is wearing this summer top without a bra too revealing for the office?” I bought one of those ridiculous silicone backless bras from Target.

I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I bought into the illustrated cleavage on the box, which looked like it was supported by the bra in a very flattering manner, and I somehow figured this bra would be perfect for the long, flowy, low-backed summer top I was wearing today.

The “bra” consisted of two silicone “stickers” to be placed on your parts and hooked together via a plastic clasp. I applied one of the stickers and immediately remembered that it takes me 37 tries just to put on a Breathe Right strip correctly.

During my 8th attempt, Jason wandered by. “Is it supposed to be lumpy like that?”

“Could you NOT be observing this?” I hissed, as I frantically tried to smooth out the sticker’s bubbles. “Some things are better left to the imagination.”

“Wait,” he gasped, “why is everything so squished? I thought you got this so you’d look bigger.”

“GET OUT.”

This bra obviously outsmarted me. After three more failed attempts, I finally scrapped the whole thing and wore my top without any support from sticky silicone or curious husbands.

And I spent $7.99 to do it.

OK, here’s some good things that have happened today:

1. A research phone call I was dreading got canceled because the person I had to call gave us a fake phone number. Who does that? On the other hand, no dreaded TALKING ON THE PHONE. Score.

2. I have been researching for weeks who to work with to refinance our house. A few minutes ago, I heard a coworker leaving early, saying she was off to refinance her house. I sprinted over to her (startling her) and got the name of the mortgage dude, plus her very passionate testimonial about how awesome he is.

3. My iPod died right before my workout this morning, making it the worst workout ever. (”Have I always been this wheezy?”) But then I fixed it (the iPod, not my wheeziness).

4. It’s already 2:30 on Friday. Only three hours left.

5. The bag of Rainier cherries I got at the farmers’ market yesterday. So juicy.

6. I managed to MacGuyver (all by myself since the IT guy was gone) a very sophisticated telephone/recorder/USB-transcript thingy. And then I tested it out by doing my Butthead impression: “Testes, testes, one, two, three? Heh heh.” And then spent 5 minutes trying to figure out how to delete my recording.

7. Sloppy joes for dinner.