Okay, So One More Thing
About the bike. No, really. Okay, four more things.
Firstly, I'm guessing it was someone on foot, based on the fact that nothing else was gone. I hate to say this, but, there is a drug rehab place around a couple of corners from my house, and my first instinct is to suspect someone from there. God, isn't that terrible? Please don't hate me. I think I just heard the sound of browsers closing.
Secondly, they could have at least left my fucking lock. It was still in the holster, obviously not in use, and it is of no use to the person who took my bike, because I have the key. You know, because IT WAS MY BIKE. Ahem. (Sorry, I think you're seeing me go through the stages of grief. This here would be ANGER.)
Thirdly, he or she was none too concerned about safety, since Chris' bike helmet was sitting right there on top of his bike. Safety first, thieves!
Fourthly, how the hell am I supposed to get around town now that my bike is gone? (Is this acceptance?)
Some Fucking Low Rent Stole My Bike
I don't know when. The last time I rode it was to the Gallivan Center to see The Roots play, on July 10th. I stayed out late and got drunk, so we walked home from downtown. I collected my bike the next
morning afternoon, July 11th. (We left for vacation on July 18th, and returned on July 27th.)
Last night I was in an organizing frenzy. I found my bike helmet in the mudroom (I'm sure I put it there when I walked home with it on July 10th). I hung it on the door handle so that this morning I could carry it to the garage and put it on my bike seat, which is where it belongs. So I walked out this morning, and...where the fuck is my bike? There is Chris' bike (locked, of course, cause he is Mr. Responsible) and there is the spot where my bike used to be. Motherfucker.
Now I know I sound irresponsible because it wasn't locked. But it was in our garage. Which, granted, does not have a door on it, but it is completely behind our house. (Which makes it even creepier that someone was back there, yes, I realize that, thanks.)
It wasn't a great bike. It was a 7-speed cruiser that I used mainly to get to bars and the farmer's market and other crap in my neighborhood. But it was MY BIKE. I'm attached. If I see it for sale on Craigslist, I will buy it back, for god's sake.
To All The Shoes I've Loved Before
(Alternate Title: Still No Vacation Pictures) I have a confession. For someone who hates
stuff and doesn't keep things she doesn't use, I have way too many pairs of shoes. I counted my shoes, and I have 33. THIRTY-THREE pairs of shoes. Now, bear in mind that this includes flips flops, running shoes, hiking shoes, and even slippers. But still, that's a whole lot of shoes. Where I am usually so cold and callous about tossing stuff out of my life, it just doesn't apply where shoes are concerned.
What happens is this: I think to myself "Self, you have lo, so many pairs of shoes! Get thee to the closet and select some to incinerate or donate!" (My inner voice is a little Shakespearian at times. Yea verily.)
So I go to the closet and pick out some shoes that I haven't worn in a long time. But then (and this is my downfall) I think "Oooooh, I should try these on! They're so cute!!" (My inner voice is a little Valley Girl sometimes, too. Like, totally.)
Then I put on the shoes and think "Bloody hell, why don't I ever wear these?" (And sometimes, just sometimes, my inner voice is a little British. Pip pip.)
So I rescue the shoes, and back in the closet they go, never knowing how close to they came to the landfill or the goodwill. And they go unworn until the next time I think about getting rid of them.
But I decided tonight that my attachment to shoes that I don't wear is fucking ridiculous. So I selected five (FIVE!) pairs of shoes that will no longer be a part of my (fabulous, natch) wardrobe.
Either I will never think of them again or I will be PISSED in a few weeks when I'm looking for the Steve Madden's with the 4 inch heel.
I'm Back. Physically.
But no so much mentally. Which is why it is after 10pm and I just got home. We left work and ran a couple of errands that couldn't be postponed (grocery store, liquor store, library) and then ran errands that were completely unnecessary (REI, Nordstrom Rack, The Dodo for dinner).
What this means for you is that I am far too short on time to post trip pictures. But I can post trip picture, singular. It was a great 10 days.
Fuck It, Let's Go On Vacation
That would be the title of my biography. Note that I didn't say AUTO-biography, because I'm way too lazy for that.
We are leaving tomorrow (shit, I guess I mean TODAY, it's a little late, oops) for a 10-day camping trip through Idaho, Oregon, Washington, California, and Nevada. We are going with out dear friends Jesse and Sharon, which is half the excitement.
I probably won't get to update while we are gone, but this drunk got herself a brand new camera (oooo-wee!) so there will be pictures when I return. Mwwwwwwwwah, and Happy
Pioneer Day to all of you who care, so um... no one. Whatev, I get a day off, so I'm Pioneer Day's biggest fan.
Happy Birthday!
To my wonderful husband.
Nervous Tummy (TM Tessie) Topic
I woke up today feeling officially Down. I slept late again today. I didn't feel like doing anything. I felt very "What's the point?" When I did finally get up, I checked my various computer accounts, even messaging a coworker, saying "Tell me something that will make me excited to come to work tomorrow". I was in A Mood.
About a half hour later I got an email from John asking if we wanted to come swimming at Monica's awesome pool. Dude, I cheered right the hell up. That was
exactly what I needed. Something to do that wasn't actually doing anything. We changed into our swimwear and packed up some beers and towels and started walking over. (Monica happily lives a block away from us.) We swam, hot-tubbed, drank beer, ate pizza, and played a couple of trivia games. It was a great lazy Sunday.
Honestly, though, I'm still in a funk. I know my own red flags, and sleeping late multiple days in a row, not caring about running, not feeling like doing anything, being reserved even when with other people, not wanting to even talk on the phone... These are all signs that point to Down in my world. I'm sure it will pass, but what causes these moods, and what can I do to prevent them?
I have a hard time talking about this issue in real life, because I'm so outgoing that most people don't take me seriously about stuff like this. I also avoid writing about it, because it is just WEIRD, especially because people I know in real life read this. But I have to start being honest about it, because I use my blog for posterity, and when I'm feeling like this I troll through the archives to find out just how long it has been since the last time, and I turn up empty-handed. Because I never write about it.
Will this weekend ever end?
I know that is a strange, and wrong, thing to ask, but I don't know if I can handle much more. I slept until 2pm today. And I'm still tired. We haven't done a lot of stuff this weekend, but for some reason I am tired and sore and just out of it.
Thursday was the end of our work week. I had a council board meeting after work, and then I rode my bike to the Gallivan Center to see The Roots play. I met up with Chris and some friends, and had a great time. It was crazy packed, I think all of Salt Lake City was there. It was over much too soon. We headed to my favorite bar afterwards, Johnnies on Second. It was so much fun. A few beers, a tequila shot, and a couple of strangers phone numbers later, we left for home. I think we got home at about 3am, at which point I drunkenly made a quesadilla. (Chris: I thought you ate at your council meeting? Me: I did, NINE hours ago.)
Friday morning came early. I had to get up at 11am to get ready to have lunch with Steph. We ate sushi and I felt much better. I went to the dentist, we cleaned the house, and then met up with a couple of friends to go to the SLC Jazz Festival. Let me just say - the Jazz Festival crowd is an interesting one. Wow. I had no idea there were so many intense jazz fans in this city. I got scolded for talking during an act, there was a crazy dancing old man, a man playing the harmonica along with the band (WTF?) and the most bizarre array of vendors I have ever seen. It was fun, though, but I was so tired when we got home I crashed immediately. At midnight. And I slept until two. Please tell me that sometimes you need 14 hours of sleep, too?
Tonight we are meeting Scott and Jessica for dinner at 6pm, and then we are going to Saturday's Voyeur, a show that the Salt Lake Acting Company writes and puts on each year. It is a hilarious time, the whole point of the show is to poke fun at Utah, and as the old saying goes "It's funny cause it's true." The best part is that they allow you to bring in your own food and alcohol, and with Scott and Jess I'm sure we're going to end up a least a little tipsy.
(Our workplace is offering us the option to work 4 10-hour days starting in August, giving us every Friday off. Chris and I are going to do it, at least for a 90-day trial period. Is this going to the best thing ever or the worst thing ever? Time will tell.)
Hiatus/Laziness - How American!!
So we went camping in the (gorgeous, gorgeous) Uintas for the 4th of July. We went with Jo and Pat, and her friend Anna and Anna's boyfriend BJ. Chris and I headed up a few hours before everyone else on Thursday night and staked out a place to camp on some BLM land near Christmas Meadows.
We got up on Friday and hiked to Amethyst Lake. We actually stopped at a small lake just before Amethyst Lake, which was about .7 miles from Amethyst. We were camped a mile from the trailhead, so it still ended up being about 14 miles. It was gorgeous there, although we didn't see any moose, which was disappointing.
We were going to hike to Scow Lake on Saturday, but we all got up late and ate a late breakfast so we decided to go to Mirror Lake with some beer and games and just hang out there. It was a good time, and we all got our asses kicked at chess by Pat, who was apparently in chess club in Jr. High and now all of the internets know it. Heh.
Saturday night I declared that it was our mission to drink all of the beer, wine and liquor that we had brought with us, and we did not fail, my friends. It was a great night. I have no idea how late we stayed up, but morning came early.
We headed back to Salt Lake at about noon on Sunday. We intended to do a hike before we left, but Chris was fairly hung over (CHRIS! NOT ME! I have no idea why I have the reputation as the crazy drinker.) so we bagged it and came back to Salt Lake early, giving us time to Get Shit Done for Monday.
All in all a great weekend. Happy belated 4th.
Belated Anniversary Post
So Tessie asked to see a picture of my wedding dress, which reminded me that I don't think I posted any photos at all from my wedding. How timely, considering that our first anniversary was this past Monday. So here is a picture extravaganza for you!! (Try to contain yourselves.)
First, a couple of engagement pictures:
I picked Chris' favorite picture to show you guys the dress, cause I didn't know which one of the (seemingly) one million to pick. I feel strange about posting a picture of me in my wedding dress here. I have issues.
Anyway, I just wanted something super simple, hence the absurdly simple dress. I actually just picked a bridesmaid dress and ordered it in white.
I wasn't going to wear a veil at all, but my sister suggested that I wear hers, and I loved the idea of that, so I wore it:
And a close up, cause that's ALL you guys want/need:
And some random ones of me and Chris:
Question For You Fine People
Here's the deal. I hate stuff. I don't understand the point of owning books you might read again in 15 years, or movies you might watch once every 2 years. I hate knick knacks. I have one small box of "memories" and I weed through it every couple of years to make sure I didn't put something ridiculous in it that I don't care about. I don't keep cards. Hell, I don't even keep emails, and those don't even take up any space. If I don't use something or love it unreasonably, off it goes.
Which brings me to my question: What the hell does one do with a trophy? I have a trophy, a decent-sized one, from a musical competition in which I placed third. In 1996. When I was freaking 16. You could say that I'm over the accomplishment. But it seems, I don't know, just a weird thing to get rid of. But I've carted this thing from place to place, and for what? It's not like I display the damn thing. It sits in a closet. Can't I take a PICTURE of the trophy and give the trophy itself to the goodwill/trash can? Tell me internets, what should I do?
Next item up for debate: my wedding dress.
Things That Are Completely Ridiculous
by: Ami
The fact that we only consistently store liquor on one floor of the house. NOT VERY CONVENIENT, I say.
Temperatures above 95 degrees.
Having to get up for work at SIX THIRTY in the AY EM on a daily fucking basis.
Realizing (from looking at his profile) that the person that just beat me at online chess is THIRTEEN years old.
My overuse of ALL CAPS.
(Yes, I took a week long break and that is all you get. Things you missed: our anniversary, the arts festival, "camping" on Friday night, so that we could get up and do a hike on Saturday that involved TWO MILES of snow, and the usual inane bitching.)
