Pickles & Dimes

The ABCs of Me

Age: 37. I don’t feel like it and people still tell me I don’t look like it, so it’s all good.

Bed size: Queen. We would love a king, but our bedroom is small and with the window/heat vent/closet door placement, it’s just not possible. Fun fact: the hotel room we stay at every February for our weekend getaway only has two queen beds in it, so we each take a bed. It is AWESOME.

Chore that you hate: Scrubbing the toilet. One of ours has a lime deposit ring that will never go away despite all of my scrubbing, pumice stone-rubbing and swearing. Plus, it never flushes that great no matter how many times I adjust the float clip. But I just watched two videos yesterday on how to replace a toilet, and toilets are only $100, so if Jason leaves me unattended for a few hours, I may just replace it myself someday.

Dogs: One. A yellow lab/possible corgi/possible Sharpei mix who is the coolest dog ever. He is totally unafraid of the vacuum cleaner but barks and barks at the Dustbuster and the Bissell Sweeper (which works great, Angie – thank you!).

Essential start to your day: I have to put my contacts in before I feel even remotely awake. But my allergies make doing that right away impossible, so the first 30 minutes of my day is me shambling about in a blurry daze.

Favorite color: Teal. I own so many shirts and jewelry with this color.

Gold or Silver: Silver. Unless the gold looks old and distressed.

Height: 5’5″ (and a half!) Confirmed by my last doctor’s appointment. (Although their weight scale was off. Maybe I should’ve kicked off my giant winter boots and shucked my winter coat before being weighed.)

Instruments you play: Flute and French horn. Can fake my way with a trumpet. Used to know “Jingle Bells” on the guitar. Would love to learn the cello.

Job title: Senior copywriter.

Kids: None.

Live: Minneapolis

Mother’s name: Linda

Nicknames: None anymore. In high school, it was “Shiner” or “TJ” (based on my maiden name)

Overnight hospital stays: None. Let’s keep it that way.

Pet peeves: People talking on the phone or texting while driving. Slow walkers in busy places. Constant interruptions at work. TV networks canceling shows without giving them a chance to wrap up loose ends (such as FlashForward).

Quote from a movie: “Hell of a situation we got here, Rexman. Two on, two out, your team down a run and you with the chance to be a hero on national television. If you don’t blow it. Saw your wife last night. Great little dancer. That guy she was with? I’m sure he’s a close personal friend and all, but tell me, what was he doing with her panties on his head? [batter pops up] Uh-oh, Rexxie, I don’t think this one’s got the distance.”
– Major League (My all-time favorite movie. We quote from it a lot at baseball games, most notably: “Too high!” during popups, “JUST a bit high” during bad pitches, and “That you, Tolbert?!?” because the Twins have a player named Tolbert)

Right or left handed: Right.

Siblings: A brother three years younger than me.

Time you wake up: 6:30 a.m. three times a week (so I can work out). Otherwise, 7:00 a.m. On weekends I don’t have to be anywhere: 8:30 a.m., ideally.

Underwear: No lace. Has to be comfy.

Vegetable you hate: Beets. They honestly make me angry just thinking about them. Suck it, beets! Also, broccoli and cauliflower. And sweet potatoes, cooked spinach, cooked carrots and squash. (I probably should’ve just listed the veggies I like instead.)

What makes you run late: I read in the mornings with Shorty and Sunny snoozing in my lap, and sometimes I lose track of time and have to hurry my morning process along.

X-Rays you’ve had: Teeth. Um…I think my ovaries one time when I was having vague, unspecific pain in my side that they concluded was due to “stress.” (They concluded this by asking me the highly medical question, “Do you have any stress in your life?”)

Yummy food that you make: Chicken saltimbocca. Spaghetti with bacon. Chili. Chicken dumpling soup.

Zoo animal: Tigers. Penguins. Monkeys. Kangaroos. Dolphins.

Last weekend, Jason and I took our last camping trip of the season. For the past five years, we’ve gone to the same campground in Wisconsin and for the past three years, we’ve stayed in the same site. Because all of our other camping trips are with friends and family, this is the one trip where it’s just us. Which means there’s no one to notice if we nap after lunch. Or before lunch. Or dinner.

This year was the chilliest by far. The sun came out in short microbursts, mostly just to show us that it could shine, it just chose not to.

Enjoy these seven minutes of warmth, losers!

My mittens, which I packed in a slightly embarrassed “maybe I’ll need them at night” kind of way, hardly ever left my hands. I also broke down and bought a stocking cap for $2.50 at a nearby gas station. Best money I ever spent. Also, the presence of Furnace Puppy™ helped matters greatly (he alternated sleeping in our sleeping bags with us, coming up for air once in awhile to cool off before switching to the other sleeping bag).

Shorty was a trouper. Ever since we got him a sleeping pad to lie on outside, he’s been better at not seeming like such a city dog. (I have to sit on the ground? Like a DOG???) But that still didn’t prevent him from sitting on his pad and shivering (for effect – it was 50 degrees out) while looking at us dolefully.

The older he gets, the more mellow he is around strangers. He only barked at two people the entire weekend, and in fact, this was the first time we witnessed him initiating contact with people. I think he’s slowly realizing that: People want to pet me. Petting is nice. If I bark, people don’t pet me. Therefore, I should not bark.

(I had just asked him if he wanted to go for a walk. His answer was a polite HELL YES.)

He is the ideal hiking dog. This time, he actually led the way, although he still had the disturbing habit of running RIGHT UP TO THE EDGE before putting on the brakes so he could stare longingly at the 100-foot drops, all “Should I or shouldn’t I?” while I hyperventilated in the background.

He even seems to understand when we tell him which way to go. At one point, we came to a fork in the path and Shorty headed to the right. Without pulling on his leash, Jason said, “Nope, buddy. Let’s head to the left.” And he did.

You all right down there, man?

We’ve yet to time our trip with the leaves at their peak. Last year we were too late. This year we were too early. But it was still beautiful:

Our site didn’t have electricity (hello, ability to see my breath in the camper at night!) so we either grilled hot dogs on our portable grill or just got food from town (this is known as “roughing it”). We passed on this store’s offering:

(It was also misspelled both times on the other side of the sign, too. HEALHY!)

While Jason picked up food, I was in charge of Lighting the Campfire, my favorite thing. (Seriously, I search for kindling like an obsessed woman.) Unlike past years, the wood this year was dry.

With it being so chilly, we retreated to the camper most nights after the fire went out and played games, like cribbage (I’m slowly relinquishing my year-long lead in this year’s tournament), Yahtzee (Jason, after getting his THIRD Yahtzee: This game bores me) and “Guess the Song” with the iPod on shuffle (Jason: The Monkees are the most magical band in the land!)

All in all, it was a fun trip and we can’t wait to go back next year.

Although this time we’re gonna spring for an electric site.

Outspoken Project Manager™ had some kind of gruesome dental procedure recently, so my last meeting with her involved even more swearing than usual, as well as unfiltered admittances that she “wasn’t even paying attention because of the mother***ing pain in my mouth” and that she called her significant other and ordered him to greet her at the door after work “with a fu**ing pain pill on a platter.” I still find myself gravitating toward her cursing, magnet-like pull whenever possible in the hopes of hearing her say something outrageous.

One of the downsides of the space I work in (besides it being so tiny I ram my chair into my filing cabinet multiple times a day in a spectacularly loud spectacle) is that there are no windows. At all. You have to leave the little lab-mouse box to find a window (and cell reception, unless you have T-Mobile like me, which means you have to exit the building entirely and wander aimlessly through the parking lot holding your phone above your head like an exuberant tinfoil-hat-wearing UFO enthusiast).

The other thing is the cold. I’ve been in plenty of work spaces that are cold. Hell, I’ve even jammed paper into a vent to redirect an arctic blast. But here, to quote a coworker: “It gets so cold so gradually that it’s only after awhile you realize: I have never been colder.” It’s true. I gave Jason a tour last week and every other chair had a blanket draped over it. Even the guys have blankets, people. There are also Snuggies. Being used unironically.

We had a glorious stretch of weather the past two weeks. I mean, it was perfect. Jason and I grilled and ate outside during a beautiful sunset last Friday, then had a picnic and rented a tandem bike the next day at the Coon Rapids Dam.

Despite my adamant belief that we would pedal ourselves directly into the nearest tree and launch a loudly uttered debate about each other’s pedaling skills, it was surprisingly easy. In fact, every person we pedaled by smiled and waved or asked questions. One little kid even helpfully shouted at us: Your bikes are stuck together!

This week the temperature has dropped 20 degrees. I think I probably only have a few days left of wearing sandals and short sleeves before having to reacquaint myself with my winter clothes. The sun is still out most days, but its attitude is definitely apathetic: Eh. I’m not even trying anymore. Unlike most years, I’m in no hurry to see Fall, my seasonal best friend, because I know that the party is going to be crashed by that dickweed Winter. Although I am really looking forward to our last camping trip of the season, coming soon.

What last-gasp-of-summer activities are you guys enjoying?

A few nights ago:

Jason, sleeping: mumblemumblemumblemumble COKE!

Me: Bwah?

Jason, louder: mumblemumblemumblemumble COKE!!

Me: Jason, what?

Jason, practically shouting: DON’T DRINK ALL THE COKE!!!

Me: Okay! Geez.

Jason: zzzzzzzzzzz.