“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” – Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
It’s been a busy day prepping for the Fourth tomorrow, so here are a few smidgins of evidence that we’re alive, kicking and living it up. Yeah, I know. I’m shocked I thought to take pictures too…
The other groomsmen and myself from Flyboy’s wedding. My dress was still too big after alterations, but tis the life of the petite female. It wasn’t my wedding, so who cared about my dress! Weddings are a lot less stressful when they aren’t your own. Those guys were charming, by the way. Flyboy clearly knows how to collect good friends (*wink).
We live in a notorious marriage mart of a town, but clearly things didn’t work out typically for this gentleman… And apparently he has very cruel friends or relationships. Snagged this sad gem in a local parking lot.
Heading out to my car for work this morning, I was startled by a roaring sound above my head. It turned out to be a low drifting balloon from a local July 4th festival (which apparently happened on the 3rd). Believe it or not it was much lower to start with, I had to scrambled in my purse for the camera a bit and the balloon had risen by the time I fished it out. These were all over the sky this morning.That’s, um, not a cloud. Half of the country is on fire, in case you hadn’t noticed, and apparently so is the city a bit up from us. We’ll keep an eye on this one, I think.
“Henry, I’m tired.” “Sleep then.” – The Lion in Winter
I can’t talk about Saturday, kittens. Let’s just say the travel gods are fickle and leave it at that.
J. and I spent yesterday, our anniversary, in and out of fogs. Up late packing, up early to the airport left us in quite a state. We both fell into unplanned naps throughout the afternoon, watched some movies, and I taught J. how to play Rummy and he trounced me at it. Romantic? Not particularly. We’re delaying our celebration until we’re in London in a week.
Sidenote: a week! Life needs to slow down, I’m tired!
Also, the weather gods seem to be in a mood. We need to throw a virgin into a volcano or something.
“The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad
We’re pathetic.
And tomorrow I’m off again, this time to Louisiana for Flyboy’s Wedding Part Deux. I’m flying in and out in a matter of hours, so I think I officially qualify as a jetsetter. J. will be playing basketball and hanging out with his mates – and probably still unpacking. Sunday is our three year anniversary. Weird, huh? Here are your links, kittens, and have a lovely weekend!
Jupiter Ammon! Someone deserves to be shot through the lung for this…
Make the call, lady minions: feminist revival, ridiculous nostalgia, or an act of desperation on the part of those for whom the gym isn’t working fast enough?
You guys, it’s my childhood being perverted again.
I cannot decide if one of these would either make my day or creep me out. I suppose, as with most things, it would depend on the person it came from.
Overshare alert: there are days (sometimes several in a row) where putting on makeup just doesn’t happen. Occasionally in the dark days of Seasonal Affective Disorder, washing my hair waits a day or two longer than in should (it’s why the good Lord created ponytails and dry shampoo). There are days, kittens, where putting in effort seems just too dang hard. Well, no more! I’ve been thinking about it a bit recently and decided to have a midyear resolution to act (and dress) like a real live grown up – which to me really just means taking responsibility and putting in the effort. And after resolving thus, this article appeared a couple of weeks ago, as if the Fashion Gods approved my decision. How about you guys? Do you ever randomly decide on self-improvement, or do you wait for the traditional times (New Year, Lent, etc.) to try and make life changes? I’m pretty good at sticking with them, but I wonder if I tried implementing them at non-standard times wouldn’t be more effective?
Need some culture in your life? Here’s Gandalf recreating his Royal Shakespeare Company role as King Lear for you. Sidenote, J. and I regularly refer to actors by some of their more well known characters, are we alone in this? J., waiting for me to catch up on Game of Thrones will demand, “Is Boromir dead yet?” Or I’ll ask, “Did you hear? Watson is going to be the new Bilbo in The Hobbit!” Or we’ll both exclaim, “It’s Sir Richard Carlisle in Dr. Who!” Another sidenote: we are hopeless, hopeless nerds…
Nope, first kid on the slideshow, we’re all judging you.
Check out these photo series! My favorite is the African ladies with the haute couture logos.
Seriously, America? Or at least certain parts of it?
Speaking of America, regardless of politics, I find this hysterical. Ahem, exactly what sort of healthcare do you think our neighbors to the North have, you adorable hysterics? See Caitlin Kelly for further reading.
“I never made a mistake in my life; at least, never one that I couldn’t explain away afterwards.” ― Rudyard Kipling, Under The Deodars
We pretend to be all put together and grown up. It’s a front. A sneaky, lying, cheating front.
Ducklings, our house is a disaster zone – I can confess this and you won’t think badly of us. J.’s suitcases are still spread everywhere, sweaters are piled on the couch, we still haven’t folding the load of whites we did before we left for Arizona, and we just barely got around to doing dishes last night. At which point J. requested cookies so we made a mess of the kitchen and stayed up late with cookies and milk watching Dr. Who, refusing to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Adulthood and responsibility, fah!
However this current state has side effects. For example, with all this travel (not to mention a trip to London upcoming during the Summer of the Jubilee/Olympics) our finances have sort of fallen over wheezing and begged us to stop. We’re allowing ourselves the chance to eat out once a week, although we’re choosing not to exercise this privilege currently, and restricting entertainment to Redbox and card games. Of course, I’ve been mostly cooking for one for the past nine months and am remembering exactly how much food the guy I’m married to consumes – woof.
So, in an effort to make a lot of good food at one go to give us lunches for a few days, I whipped up a crockpot full of chicken fajitas. And you’ll excuse me for patting myself on the back when I say that they were delicious. Minions would have wept in joy to have tasted them. However we waited for the food to cool a bit before putting it away – and then forgot about it. J.’s first words to me the next morning when we woke up were, “Did we put dinner in the fridge last night?” My first words were, ah, unfit to print here as I scrambled for the kitchen and discovered I’d manage to waste a ton of food.
My brain is clearly having trouble reengaging after all my bouncing around and living out of suitcases. Tonight, though, it’s getting a break as we say farewell to J.’s old flatmate as he and his wife head off to grad school – and that means a barbeque! One more meal I don’t have to cook, and potentially ruin. Even I can manage to whip up a communal salad without incident.
“It was a nice wedding.” “It was.” “Great family.” “Aren’t they lovely?” “Yeah. But let’s never come back to Arizona.” “Agreed.” – J. and C.
Last weekend was an adventure, ducklings, complete with forgotten IDs, lack of sleep, an Indian Casino, and a very happy bride and groom. I got to wear a boutonniere and received a pocket watch as a groomsman’s gift, so we can even add a clever bit of gender bending. Honestly, just writing this recap makes it sound like a Shakespearean comedy!
But Flyboy was very happy, and so was everyone else, so we’re going to call it a crashing success! His wife (which for continuity’s sake we’ll herewith christen Flygirl) planned the whole wedding in Arizona from Alaska and as far as any of us in the wedding party could tell, it went swimmingly. Her organizational skills are incredible. As soon as some pictures make their way to Facebook, or alternatively as soon as I can find the camera cord, we’ll show you the evidence.
My only complaint was that it was 120 degrees in the shade the whole time, which makes the whole of the state an unfit place to live – and that’s before getting politically snarky. Walking from the car to the hotel entrance to check in made my whole body freak out – I flushed bright red and couldn’t cool down on my own, leading to a cold shower (which I normally hate) to get back to normal. At one point J. burned his hand on a car door. Whose brilliant idea was it to settle that scalding wilderness, pray?
First settlers (in the style of the penguins from the movie Madagascar): “Well. This sucks.”
“Love one another and you will be happy. It’s as simple and as difficult as that.”
~ Michael Leunig
We’re still roadtripping and doing wedding stuff. We’re busy running ragged and partying, alternatively, so here are your links:
The DJ by the end of the night. Potentially.
Whatever political persuasion, this is an interesting story on changing a political message and a clever campaign to get people’s attention for a cause. Mind you watch the whole thing.
This is either incredible skill or way too much free time. Possibly both.
Oh Ascot, how do I love thee? Let me count the hats…the cracktastic, crazy, ludicrous hats. Occasionally there are toppers of lovely and understated good taste, but who cares about those?
You might not believe it (given my confession on Monday), but I don’t like the cheapness of fashion. I can have a good time in H&M, but I don’t mistake anything there for long term investment pieces (much less pieces that will last more than a season’s hard wearing). One of my personal projects has been streamlining my wardrobe into something multipurpose, practical, and pretty… and much smaller and better made. Hence my interest in this new book. Anyone read it yet?
“Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.”
~Ray Bradbury
J.’s suitcases are still spread all over the house, but we have to pack up again and head out of town first thing tomorrow morning. I’m sure we could claim the title of jetsetters, but I think the more accurate term is hopelessly lazy and rushed.
We’ll be reporting to you from the American Southwest for the rest of the week, where the temperatures are going to be in the triple digits. It is very possible I may not survive the weekend. J. took Atticus golfing for Father’s Day and came home sunburned (Britain having paled him considerably over the past nine months), a nice prelude to our probable fate. Apart from getting Flyboy married, the goal is to try and take some pictures.
“Ahh, what a day! Up at 6:00, a 10-mile run in the sleet, and NOW a big bowl of plain oatmeal! How I love the crazy hedonism of weekends!” – Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes
I indulged this past weekend, minions. I may have overindulged, in fact!
Let’s burn plastic and worry about doing penance on Monday.
I’ve had a self-imposed shopping ban in place for months now, saving up for a major shopping trip, and I finally took it. Woof. There was carnage, kittens. And then I went to a movie and dinner with my godfamily to round off my weekend of hedonism, because between weddings and assorted craziness we haven’t been able to play as much lately and that needed to be rectified.
Now the Small Dog clan is going on austerity measures until the holidays – Germany would adore us.
J.’s back in town tonight, permanently, no more cross continental marriage! And immediately I drag him to an out of state wedding this weekend, we have another godfamily dinner at the start of next week, I head out to the Flyboy’s Wedding Part Deux in Louisiana the Saturday after, and the next day is our three year anniversary. Life events are like buses, none come for huge stretches and then they all come all at once!
“There is no such cozy combination as man and wife.”
~ Menander
A bit tardy minions, but you’ll forgive me as it was for a good cause. I had our annual secretaries retreat today and then had to hightail it to Margot’s wedding. The girl gone and done it – she’s hitched! It’s been a lovely but long day, so here are your links and let Aunty C. just take a quick nap, k?
Speaking of wars, here’s a professor explaining how he lectures on the Trojan War – watch the whole thing if you want. I myself could barely make it past the first couple of minutes wherein he declares that every year fewer and fewer students even know what the Trojan War is. I’m wringing my hands, and Mum is probably gnashing her teeth in frustration!
The end point of the Big Bang has an equally negative sounding name and some unpleasant effects. Luckily we’re a few billion years out from it.
A great article (written by a friend!) about herself, Mitt Romney, the Mormon Moment, and how they intersect in personal and unexpected ways. It’s a fantastic piece, and not just because I adore this woman. Check it out.
Here’s yet another place I’ve found for you to spend your money, I’m having a kitsch craving moment with these, and even the more toned down versions are pretty cute.
This story is amazing. A (sort of) God’s creation doesn’t quite act the way he intended. There may be a philosophical lesson here, but even if not, have a listen.
This blog‘s been making the rounds, but still quite fun. A British school girl documents her lunches every day, and the phenomenon has spread so people can send in snap shots of their lunches from all over the world.
A while back I went through and weeded everyone from my social networks that I didn’t actually know personally and hadn’t spoken with in the past six months, but I never really thought of the role that exclusivity plays in social networking.
Grocery shopping habits across the decades, and the role of food industries.
If I could do one thing for incoming freshman to our humble university, it would be to sit them down and make them watch this. Freshman, and most seniors to be honest, you haven’t earned the right to be treated specially yet. You’ve got a long road ahead, get to work.
The weekly sheep, just try to be in a bad mood now!
“The finest clothing made is a person’s skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.”
~ Mark Twain
Moments after a phone call from a woman distraught to see a couple of young people park their car in her neighborhood and engage in some, ah, explicit amorous activities, Lt. South walks by my desk and sighs, “Bunch of guys running around the sports fields in thongs or less.”
Small Dog Syndrome 