On Wednesday I Went to "Follies"

Since Jason had already seen this production and since I wasn't going to pass up a chance to see Bernadette Peters and Elaine Paige live, I bought myself a ticket to a weekday matinee of the Kennedy Center's "Follies" shortly after I arrived in DC.

I gave myself plenty of time to get to the Kennedy Center. When I was planning out my trip to Georgetown earlier in the week, Jason asked if I had a GPS app on my phone.

"Yes," I replied.

"Then you'll be fine," he said.

"Oh, no," I said, "you underestimate my ability to get lost."

I knew that the Kennedy Center wasn't far from the Foggy Bottom metro stop, which I had visited the day before to enjoy some shopping at Trader Joe's (Oh! I forgot to tell you in my "On Tuesday" post that I went to Trader Joe's! The one downtown is a tinier version of the ones I've been to in San Diego and Bellingham, and boy is it popular! I got there about an hour before closing, and the check-out line was wrapped entirely around the store the entire time I was there. To their credit, they had a lot of workers checking people out in a pretty efficient set-up for such a small space. It's just terribly popular with the yuppies of the area. For good reason. Here's a shot of the contents of my basket:



I shall certainly go back again soon - I'm almost out of that guacamole hummas. Anyway, back to Wednesday).

When I got to the top of the escalator out of the metro at Foggy Bottom I quickly found the sign pointing the way to the Kennedy Center. I headed that direction, but when I hit the next intersection the sign giving directions pointed directly at an apartment complex right in-between two streets at a 40 degree angle to one another.

Hmm.

After about five more minutes of walking I came to the end of the street at a business complex that was decidedly not the Kennedy Center. I was also cursing my sandals, since some painful blisters were quickly developing (Never, never, never is it a good idea to think, "Oh! I haven't worn these shoes in, like, a year! I'll bring those for my black dress shoes").

Since my GPS wasn't helping me get there by foot (see my issues exiting the zoo yesterday) and because I didn't want to go all the way back to the main street to find my way, I went into the business complex. There I found a balcony where I could lean out and see the Kennedy Center! Ah ha! Separated from me by two freeways with no sign of a pedestrian walkway! Shoot!

Knowing which direction I needed to go, I went downstairs to exit the complex and discovered a seven-foot high metal gate. I rattled the door, but it was locked on the outside. A different set of stairs led to the same result. Faced with the need to completely retrace my steps in order to get out there, I took off my sandals and walked back the way I came, barefoot.

Thankfully the good weather was holding and the sidewalk wasn't that hot. I didn't love the dirtiness, but I certainly went barefoot in a lot more public places in Thailand. Plus, my toes were bleeding by then. Stupid sandals.

I arrived at the Kennedy Center six minutes before the start time, having spent 40 minutes wandering around the area. I slipped on my shoes and hobbled into the theater.

I do love the Kennedy Center - it's such a lovely arts complex. The production itself was fine, but the show is weak. The book is stilted and unnatural, the songs feel out of place, and the main characters are not terribly appealing. Of the actresses my favorite was Jan Maxwell (with Terri White a close second). The Washington Post did a series of profiles on each of the show's actresses, which makes for interesting background.

You can read Jason's review of the show here. I agree with most of his thoughts. Happily, they have worked out the technical kinks since he saw it - the production elements were as seamless as you would expect for a show that's heading to Broadway in a few weeks.

After the show I found the free shuttle that ferries the bejeweled and elderly (Ah, the weekday matinee crowd!) to the metro stop and joined them for the ride. I got home, changed, and painted a second coat on the wall in Jason's bedroom. He got home from work around 9:00 and we went to SweetGreen for salad takeout for a late dinner.

On Tuesday I Went to the Zoo

The fine weather continued, so I took myself to the zoo.

Surprisingly, I wasn't too impressed.  I think the Denver Zoo holds its own against this one.  Plus, the planners of Denver had the foresight to not build the zoo on a hill.  I passed so many exhausted-looking parents who were straining to push a stroller-full up the hill!

I did get to see the famous pandas, albeit from a distance.  One of them might be pregnant, so both were indoors and the crowds were only let into the display area in small numbers.  I read a book while I waited in line, eavesdropping on the families around me  (I'm on an Ann Patchett kick at the moment - I've read three of her books since Monday).

I also cooed over the tiny fluffy animals in the small mammals exhibit, discovered a huge crowd of snickering adults and restless kids who were watching two giant turtles (tortoises?) mating, and watched the lions for a while.  It was about 4:00 in the afternoon by then, and they were quite active.  The seven females chased and wrestled each other all over their "mountain," while the male sat regally at the peak, watching them.  He stood up, shook himself off, and then roared for about five minutes straight, his ribs heaving with each breath, while the tigers next door called back in response.  Then he sat back down placidly, and the females went back to playing.

I decided to leave the zoo on a different path and found the Rock Creek Park Trail by accident.  I walked along that for about a mile, enjoying the greenery and the stream next to me, in what felt suspiciously like a hike.  It took a little longer than I had anticipated, since my GPS failed to tell me that the streets I was planning on connecting with to get back to the metro were actually about a hundred feet above me on bridges over my path.  Hmm.

I eventually found the way to get back up to street level, helped an out-of-towner there for a conference find her way to the metro, and rode back downtown to meet Jason for dinner near his office.

On Monday I Went to Georgetown

I've given up the idea of writing out thorough posts for the days I've missed this week, so I'm settling for shorter, highlights versions of each day instead. Here's Monday:


With the weather in the 70s for a few days, I planned a week of mostly outdoor excursions.  I took the Metro to Rosslyn (which always makes me picture this when I hear/see it), then found the stop for the DC Circulator.  A hop across the bridge, and I was in Georgetown.

I spent the afternoon wandering around.  I poked into a few stores, including three bookstores; walked up and down the streets; and ambled along the C&O canal.  When I found a tied-up boat near some benches in the shade, I sat down for a while and had a lovely chat with my mom on the phone.

I found some dinner at a diner in the area, then headed to Grace Street to take a class at a place called Blush 'n' Brush.  I had found this company a few months back while I was looking for things to do in DC, and while I didn't love any of the artwork on their calendar, I was highly intrigued about the teaching process involved with getting a class of adults of varying abilities/talents to paint the same painting in two hours.  Oh, professional development - why can't I quit you?

I had picked out the painting I hated the least on their calendar for June.  I realized in retrospect that a lot of what drew me to that painting over the others was that it was more complex.  This also made the painting harder for the class as a whole.  The teacher admitted when we were about 10 minutes from the end time and only halfway through the painting that this was their first time teaching this painting and "maybe we need to make it a three-hour class".

I stuck around until 9:45.  I didn't finish the painting, but I didn't really want to, either.  It certainly wasn't something I'm going to hang up in my home.  I did enjoy the process, though.  Most of the art I do now days are either pen-and-ink sketches or wide-scale set painting.  Working with acrylic paint on a canvas with an easel reminded me of doing stage makeup.  Except back when I was doing stage makeup, I had a lot more brushes to choose from in my collection.

In any case, I packed up my painting and my things, thanked the teacher, said farewell to the other students, and headed back out to catch the Circulator.  The stop just happened to be right next to a creperie, so I indulged in a little one with lemon and sugar, propping my painting up against the wrought-iron facade so I could eat the crepe with both hands.

In Which I Get Behind in My Posting and I Provide a Quick Summary

You know, for having such a relaxing schedule, I am rapidly getting behind in my blogging. I now have three days worth of things to tell you about, which I will not do tonight. I want to write them out in full and I'm going to optimistically on doing that tomorrow. In the meanwhile, here's a list of the highlights of recent activities:

- Georgetown!
- Bookstores!
- Art Class!
- Giant Turtles Mating!
- Lions Roaring!
- Getting Lost!
- Bernadette Peters!
- Elaine Paige!
- Trader Joe's!
- Getting Lost Again!
- Gym Psychology and Sociology!
- Blisters!

Such an exciting summer I'm having. At the moment, Jason's in the midst of writing a contract for Hulu in Japan. I'm reading an Ann Patchett book and, you know, not blogging. In fact, I'm off to continue doing that right now.

See you tomorrow!

In Which We Break the Sabbath, Then Honor the Sabbath, Then Break the Sabbath Again

As mentioned before, it was a paint-filled weekend. By the time we called it a night Saturday, the living room was filled with paint fumes and the couch-wall was a grayish-blue. Because the smell was too much and the "bed" was shoved against a lot of other items, we pulled the couch-cushions off and arranged them in Jason's room like so:



Yes, it is a bit Ruth-and-Boaz-like, but it worked for a night.

The next morning we promptly donned paint clothes and dove in for a second coat. Once finished, we arranged the bedroom to give that its paint job, moving the bed and bookcases and taping the walls and such. By then it was time for church, so we gussied-up and were off.

Church was pretty run-of-the-mill. The building was on the more interesting/less 1980's generic wrap-around side of designs with actual see-through glass windows in the chapel that showed off the leafy green trees all around, nifty chandeliers, and a Relief Society room decorated with a pale damask-type wallpaper. It's nice to see a change in design once in a while.

After church we promptly changed back into paint clothes and tackled the bedroom wall with a "Woodpecker" brown. We got one coat on and were rearranging the furniture and getting ready to start making dinner when the power went out. There had been a glorious-if-brief thunderstorm earlier in the afternoon, but I don't think that was the cause. We waited for an hour before giving up on the idea of making dinner and headed out.

The mall across the street was likewise dark, but there was a restaurant nearby that had power. The waiter explained that it was because they were in the National Science Foundation building, and government buildings have their own generators.

Nourished and ready for round two (well, more like round eight), we headed back upstairs. There wasn't much point to trying to paint in the dimming sunlight. Instead, we pulled out flashlights and arranged and re-arranged the living room to Jason's satisfaction.

We were just debating what to do with the too-early-for-bed too-late-for-going-out-to-a-movie timing when FOOM! the power came back.

We celebrated by watching Doctor Who, then turned in for the night.

A very busy weekend, yes, but satisfying in that way that only high productivity can be.

In Which We Run Errands

Just a quick blog post for today, mostly to reassure my mother that I am indeed alive and well because I'm sure that even though I'm on the domestic leg of this trip and being in DC is really not that different than being in Denver, her worry instincts are still very much aglow.

So! Busy day today. We went to 14 stores across two states and then painted a wall.

Now we are going to watch Parks and Rec while Jason eats yogurt and granola and I eat cereal and milk.

It's been a good day.

In Which I Look at Asian/African Art

I found the gym in Jason's building! Hurrah!

After an hour-long elliptical workout, I got ready and headed out on the town for

DC Day II: 

Battle of the Smithsonian.

Actually, it wasn't so much a battle as it was strolling through four different museums looking at art.

Pictures of said museums!











Plus this garden!




Now with Bonus Metro Picture!



And... Fin.

P.S. Favorite art of the day: The itty-bitty Egyptian dieties in Freer's collection. I also really admired the tiny, tiny mosaic glass pieces.  Egypt's so cool.

In Which I Learn to Relax While on Vacation

What a strange concept that is.

This is Jason's new apartment building:



It's not as posh as his last place, granted, but still pretty spiffy. His couch, thankfully, is comfy, and I pointed out that his plan is a clever one - his smaller-than-the-previous-abode apartment will seem quite spacious when he gets it to himself after sharing it with me.

We went to dinner last night at this tiny cash-only hole-in-the-wall-ish restaurant:



in this strip mall:



Which feels oddly Casa Bonita-like, in a Vietnamese way.

As we drove out there Jason explained that the best food is in the suburbs. If this place was any indication, he's very much correct. The caramelized chicken with lemongrass and chilies was delicious.

We went to Harris Teeter, a grocery store, after dinner to get some supplies, then back to the apartment.

We did talk for a while past bedtime, but turning in at midnight was a much healthier time achievement than we usually make the first night of reunion. Thanks to a terrible bedtime the night before (3:00), I hit that type of exhaustion where you're so tired you can't sleep.

Jason was up bright and early at 7:00 the next morning to go to work. I bid him farewell. Then I thought about getting up right then, too, and getting to work on my vacation.

Then I realized that there was no reason I needed to and, in fact, I would fare better for the day if I got rid of my headache.  So I went back to sleep.

I don't know if you know what an achievement that is.  One of our family mottos is "If you don't need a vacation after your vacation, you did it wrong" (followed by "We can make that" and "Du beurre, du beurre, et encore du beurre").  I am squishing a lot of guilt for indulging in a life of leisure for a little while, but I am determined to try out this new lifestyle.

When I did get up, I showered, dressed, and watched The Daily Show while eating brunch.  I was already off to a terrific start.

Next I wandered around Jason's neighborhood a little bit to get a sense of the lay of the land then headed to the Smithsonian via the metro. The ride was fun, since a quatro of Italian men in natty dress shirts and sunglasses (which they kept on in the metro, of course) sat not too far from me and spent the ride in vigorous conversation in Italian.  Diversity!  I love it!

I didn't linger outside on the mall for too long, given this:



(Note the "Feels Like" part)

So I headed for the American History Museum.

It was packed! There were quite a few high school groups there in matching t-shirts and I was torn between a) an "Aww - teenagers!" nostalgia, b) an annoyance at the noise and chaos of that many young people, and c) actively suppressing my urge to manage that many young people and terminate their unruly behavior. My field trip instincts are finely honed and hard to turn off.

Here are a few of the things I saw besides teenagers:


A Tax Collector strung up in a tree


The diary of a Civil War nurse named Amanda


A map of immigration patterns for museum visitors (I added my family's history to the database - you're welcome, Smithsonian!)


An exhibit about transportation in America that included creepy people statues who stand outside of the display barriers (Don't blink!)


An exhibit about moveable-design books (as in pop-up books)


The original textbook and radio microphone from the Scopes Monkey Trial


A wind-up animated Friar from the Renaissance


A mask from The Lion King


This highly accurate (from my observations of Family/Jack dynamics) comic


Some old friends


and Julia Child's kitchen (man, that woman's awesome)

They've redone the entire museum since I was here last, and I like the changes and additions overall. In particular, the display for the Star Spangled Banner is nicely done.

I kept overhearing snippets of conversations to the effect of "Okay, so from here we'll go to the Archives and then swing through the Portrait Gallery..." and I noted how nice it is to not be doing that. I got to see everything in one museum, and then I headed back to cook dinner when I was ready. That's it - no rushing to the next place, no aching feet or dehydration. It's really, really pleasant and I feel extraordinarily lucky to be able to try this kind of vacation (Thanks, Jason!).

Jason got home around 7:30 and we had dinner, watched an episode of Doctor Who, and did some event planning for the rest of the time I'm here. Within an hour I

• Bought a ticket to a matinee of Follies (with Bernadette Peters!) at the Kennedy Center,
• Bought tickets for Jason and me to see Aretha Franklin at Wolftrap (if anyone has picnic menu ideas (Rachel, Miranda - I'm looking at you!) let me know!),
• Booked an evening painting class in Georgetown, and
• Registered for a ticket drawing to see a free OkGo/Pomplemousse concert (fingers crossed!)

While I still don't have a daily agenda, I made the beginnings of a To Do in DC list. The heat wave's supposed to break this weekend and the forecast is for Monday to have a high of 80 (whoo!). I think a trip to the zoo is an appropriate celebration of that. Tomorrow, though, I'm going to do whatever I feel like doing.

And that's perfectly okay.

My Kind of Mall

DCA

Hello from the East Coast!

I can feel the patriotism already.

I'm hanging out at baggage claim, since Jason so nicely offered to leave work early (i.e. 5:00) to escort me to his place.

Hurrah, Hurrah

Not only did my sweet packing skills allow me to pack for two different extended trips in only two pieces of checked luggage, but they also both arrived with me! Yay!

PS It's 98 degrees here.

Installation Airport Art

I'm on my way!

After very little sleep and a couple of obsessive closet clean-outs, Rachel picked me up this morning and drove me to DIA.

DC, here I come!

In the meantime, I'm testing the photo-blogging setup with a picture from the airport: The walkway to Terminal A is currently adorned with a stream of paper cranes. I like it!

We Won't Forget to Write

Per my usual pre-trip rituals, it is 8:00 PM and I am not anywhere near done packing yet.  (I don't think I have ever gone on a trip with a proper night's sleep behind me.  It's just not done!)

I am, however, attending to some very important blogging-type stuff.  At the moment I'm working on activating my phone for mobile blogging.  Because I know you're excited to see up-to-the-moment pictures of my adventures to come!

In other blogging news, Jason has started a blog!

Since we will be sharing many of the same adventures in the weeks ahead, and since our different perspectives can be entertaining, here's the link if you'd care to read:

www.amoregentlemanlikemanner.blogspot.com

He's a pretty funny guy when he's not working 84 hours a week.

Until tomorrow then!

I Finally Enabled My Phone for Mobile Blogging!

Does that blow your mind?

Happiness is a Thing Called Joe

There are three Trader Joe's within 15 minutes of Jason's place.

I'm good now.

(I'm also jealous.  Stupid Colorado liquor laws.)

Hey There

While babysitting Jack today, we watched a little Battlestar Galactica.

I thought it was pretty cute the way every time the show cut to black to mark a commercial break Jack start clapping with a big grin like, "Good job, guys!  That was a great show!"

The best part, though, was when Gaius Baltar appeared on the screen for the first time in that episode and Jack did a double-take, then exclaimed, "Da!  Hi-yeum-da!"

Which is exactly how he greets Ben.



What do you think? Is Ben a Cylon?*

* By which I mean to imply that if Ben and Gaius are the same person,  they must be Cylons.  I am NOT implying that Gaius is a Cyclon because I don't know if Gaius is a Cylon yet because I haven't seen the Final Five.  Please don't spoil this for me. And yes, I like Battlestar.  And yes, I fully embrace my nerdity.

Our Little Secret

No matter how much I love traveling or how often I do it, I get nervous before a big trip.  It usually dissipates when I get to the airport, but those moments (i.e. days) before I leave are pretty anxiety-ridden.

It's not the travel itself.  I'm not afraid of plane rides or not speaking the language or diseases or the other things that I assume keep other people close to home.  It's actually the same thing that makes me anxious the night before every school year begins: I'm just afraid of the unknown.

I like having a plan.  I like knowing what I'm going to wear the next day, what will be for dinner, what's expected of me.  I can handle spontaneity, since that's really just making plans very, very quickly.  I can also handle, even delight in, not having a plan for a few hours (or days, if I'm traveling with Emily), since not having a plan for a set amount of time in a set location with pre-determined company is a very solid plan.

What I don't like is having a long stretch of time in front of me that I can't plan for because there are so many unknowns.

There's a little game I sometimes play when faced with unknowns.  The first time I remember doing it was when we moved to Germany when I was 8.  Sitting on the plane to Frankfurt, I wondered what Germany was going to look like.  We had moved quite a bit already at that point, so I knew a lot of different types of homes and cities.  But they were all American and this was Europe.  This was going to be different.

And so I imagined all the different ways Germany could look.  I pictured different types of streets and houses and landscapes and I figured that it had to be one of those.

Then the plane started to descend and I looked out the window to see Germany for the first time.

And it was nothing like I had imagined it.

It wasn't better or worse.  It just wasn't at all like I pictured it.

I kept playing that game over the years - when faced with an unknown situation I think through all the possible ways it could turn out.  And here's the thing: I have never, ever been right.

Even more recently, now that I'm very aware of this "game" and of its inevitable outcome, I consciously and deliberately think through every possible way some new thing could be.  And I'm never, ever right.  Things never turn out like I imagine they will when I play that game.

I call it a game because it actually is fun for me now.  For one, it gives me something to focus on when I get nervous.  But I also get a kick out of seeing just how sneaky the universe is.  Because I can be a pretty thorough thinker when I put my mind to it, and yet I never, ever imagine the way things actually turn out.

And so I spend the van ride to the Russian mental institution calling to mind everything I've read or seen about mental institutions, and yet I didn't imagine the smell or the bars on the windows (not the look of the bars, but the feeling of being locked in a strange room with bars on the windows) or the sound of Russian coming from a medicated toothless old woman who insisted on showing me her breasts.

And so I spend the plane ride to Valdelavilla imagining all the ways I could teach English to grown-up professionals, what the other Anglo volunteers would be like, and what a restored medieval Spanish mountain village would look like, and yet I completely missed the way I would so quickly come to adore the people I met there.  And I certainly didn't imagine dancing with all of those drunk, adorable people until 3:00 in the morning.

And so I wander all jet-laggy through the Bangkok airport at midnight, marveling at the giant green demon statues, the lovely curly swirls of the writing, the extremely long and lone nail on the customs agent's pinky finger that he picks his nose with.  I'd heard about those aspects of Thailand, I knew about the art and the humidity and the sounds of the language.  I spent the last part of the plane ride imagining what it would be like there, picturing every possible combination of all that I knew and didn't know about Thailand.

And yet it was nothing like I imagined it would be.

On Wednesday I start my summer adventure of 2011.  Rachel's going to drive me to the airport so I can go to DC for six weeks.  This one's different - I've been to this city before, I know Jason pretty well, and it's still America, for goodness sake.

And yet I'm nervous.

Despite all that I do know, there are some big unknowns about this trip.  I don't have a volunteer position set up at a local orphanage/retirement center/monastery to schedule my time around.  I don't have a plan in place for how to fill each and every day from X:00 to X:00, nor do I have a set goal to accomplish.  I am excited about having so much time to play in DC as I please, and I am also terrified to have so much time to play in DC as I please.

I am not so nervous about the evenings and weekends, since I'll get to hang out with Jason (and hopefully Meg!).  We do and will continue to have plans when he's not working, of that I am comfortably certain.

And yet!  This isn't the same as the other times I've seen him - we're not living in the same city, or traveling together to a new place, or spending a pleasant long weekend together.  He'll be going about his normal life and I'll be there, in the middle of it.  There's so much I already know about what it will be like, and yet I can't even imagine what it will be like.

I'll keep trying to imagine it right up until I'm there, I'm sure; and I'll keep on being nervous, because I keep imagining what it will be like knowing that I will never, ever be right.

And so I imagine what this trip could do to our friendship, and I conclude that there are only three possibilities: that it can either make it better, make it worse, or make it stay exactly the same.

 So what options am I missing?

When I Look at You

Natasha summers in Grand Junction now. 

I am lucky enough to have parents who don't mind taking in my beast in the summer months so I can go on my extended escapes unfettered.  Since I'm leaving for my next trip in a few days, I took Nash down to GJ this week.

It was delightful as always to get to hang out with my parents.  Despite the craziness of their work load (and their patients), they made time for some fun.  For example, Mom helped me make a maxi-skirt out of some fabric I've had sitting in my to-do pile for months now, and Dad put off chart-reading Wednesday to take me to a fun little used bookstore and to go hunting for some items for Peru.

We also measured the ceiling a lot:


You know how I travel to stave off my perennial need to move?  My parents do that, too, but since they are so tethered to their patient load (44 Avastin treatments today alone.  44!), they've replaced travel with renovations.  The house currently is covered in a layer of drywall dust and their kitchen has been relocated to their garage.  The changes they're making are pretty sweet, though.  For example, here's a quick shot of the new breakfast nook (for lack of a better name):



It's going to be awesome. Duane and Janet, two good friends of my parents, stopped by Tuesday night. Duane suggested my parents should put in a good mural on the ceiling in the nook. I agreed, and although I'm still a fan of my dad's old idea of a mural depicting our ancestors being driven out of their various homes (the Mormons being driven out of the eastern states on my mom's side and the Catholics being driven out of Italy after refusing to do free labor for their village church on my dad's side) (I come from a long line of stubborn people who challenge authority), I suggested they do something more like this.

Math and measuring fun aside, I also had some adventures with Natasha.

I've put off her annual shaving because the weather out here in Colorado's been much cooler than usual for this time of year. Finally, though, it had to be done. I made an appointment for her this morning at a pet grooming place not too far from my parents' office. When I dropped her off this morning, she looked like this:



I was helping with some filing at the office when I got the call that they had finished shaving Nash. It was perfect timing, since I could now swing out to get her, run her back to my parents' house, then go meet them for lunch before I took off for Denver.

I picked up Natasha, marveling at how getting her shaved makes her look like a completely new cat:



"Really, it's amazing," I thought as I drove back to my parents' house, "The short fur makes her look totally different."



"And act different, too," I noted as the cat sniffed all around the cage with nary a mew. I lifted up the lid to scratch under her chin, and the beast didn't respond.

"Poor thing," I thought. "Being around all those barking dogs really scared her."



I took her inside the house, opened the lid, and lifted her out for some cuddling before I left her for the summer.

"Huh," I said out loud. Something's different. She's not butting her head against my face.  And I don't remember Natasha having a white chin.  Or a pink nose.

I pulled out my cell phone to check:



"This isn't my cat," I realized.

"You aren't my cat," I said to the beast that was squirming in my arms.

I called the pet grooming place and told them, "I think you gave me the wrong cat."

"That's impossible!" the cat grooming lady exclaimed. "I keep track by the collars. Did you get the right collar back?"

"Yes..." I said looking at the collar that was clipped to the cage handle, "but I don't think this is my cat."

"Well, bring it back then," she said, then hung up.

So Not Natasha and I got back in the car and drove back to the pet grooming place. I called my parents on the way to explain why I was going to be late for lunch. When my mom stopped laughing, she said I could put Natasha in the back room of their office so I could still go with them for lunch. She and Dad met me at the pet grooming place and she took one look in the cage and declared, "That's not your cat."

I carried it inside. The cat grooming lady was suddenly apologetic, since the other cat's owner had shown up in the meantime, taken one look at Natasha and declared, "That's not my cat."

The cat grooming lady led me to the back room where, waiting patiently in one of their cages, was a newly-shorned but not-so-different-looking Natasha.



This is my cat.

Mom and I shut her in my dad's bathroom at the office. She made a quick note to tape on the door to make sure none of their staff accidentally let Natasha out:



When we came back from lunch, we found an addition to the note:





Wait a second... that cat looks a little different than I remember.

Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying

I'm famous!

A few weeks ago I emailed a question I have pondered for a long time to one of my favorite bloggers, Amalah.

And today she answered it!

This should be worth some good street cred, right?

I Got A Little Time

Oh, man.  The things you can do when you have time to do them!

I've been busy since Monday.  For example, here's what I accomplished just today:

- Hair cut and colored
- Drop off at UPS
- Drop off at Post Office
- Grocery store run
- Made mustache straws for Jack's party
- Made parts of the propeller pops for Jack's party
(pictures of the former 2 will come after the party!)
- Worked out
- Washed and folded 2 loads of laundry
-Tidied up the kitchen

I also have exciting plans for ironing tonight.  I'm hooked on Battlestar Galactica now, so a lot of the above happened while I was watching episodes of that.  It's handy having an iPad to take about the house with me while I work in various rooms.

It's so ridiculously nice to be able to get so many things done and still, you know, sleep and eat and such.  It feels .. too nice.  Like this isn't right, I shouldn't have so much time.

But, believe me, I will enjoy it while it lasts.