One of my favorite personality traits, which is also one of my worst, is that I only think of things when I’m in relevant surroundings. I think about work stuff at work, and when I’m at home it’s as if my brain doesn’t recognize that I even have a job. “There’s no world outside these walls, silly Lauren, just eat some more cookies.” Good ol’ compartmentalized brain.

It usually doesn’t interfere too much, but there are weeks when everyday at work I’ll think, “I really should buy such-and-such in Lincoln on Saturday so I can get that project done.” When the weekend arrives and I drive in without a list, I have no idea what could have been so urgent.

It’s also not so great when I’m in a situation like this morning when I arrived at work and realized that I had left all relevant Mother’s-Day-project-related-stuff sitting on the dining room table. It was a furious drive home, and I had to pep myself up so I wouldn’t fall under the house’s spell when I darted in to get my bag.

Regarding falling on the laptop: It is fine, as am I. Many thanks for your concern.

The Male Brain book? Fascinating. I’ve read through it once and will have to read it again more carefully. It talks about how hormones change how brains operates, and the part that has helped me the most at school is understanding that little boys suffer from “must move or I will die” programming. They have the need to 1) watch something move; 2) make something move; or 3) move.

I like the Wi-Fi card. It’s magical that I take photos and within seconds, they are on my computer.

Not much else is up. Lloyd, do you have anything to say?

Lloyd: “Sorry about the photos. Next time don’t leave me at home alone for President’s Day.”

Sorry, people.

Scene: A humble dining room, rather cluttered. A husband and wife are sitting, each at their own computers. It is mid-evening. They have recently eaten dinner – meatloaf with a failed noodle side dish.

Wife: I have nothing to post about. Nothing.

Husband: What about that one picture you took?

Wife: That’s a headline, not a story.

Husband: They can’t all be winners. (goes back to ignoring her)

End scene

There are 10 categories, and the one that our table scored surprisingly high on was about Canada. It had a question about RUSH and Bob and Doug McKenzie!

Today I was sitting around – on my stool – and thought, “What if I learned the Canadian territories? I learned the countries in Asia, didn’t I?” (I have since forgotten nearly all of them.)

I came across a good mnemonic for them – the ones across the bottom go: Bill And Sally Make One Quart of Nothing. The ones across the top go You’re Not Naked. The little ‘maritimes’ are hit and miss. Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and the other one.

So, take this quiz! I bet I’ll find Quart before you will!

8:25 – ok, coffee is perking. Yes, people – 12+ hours of sleep!! I feel like I just slept a marathon! It was pretty funny waking up at 3 and thinking, “I could get up now. This is more sleep than I usually get.” Now I need to put a picture on this thing.

There. Now there’s a photo. I’m not done yet, though.

8:31: I was really tired yesterday, so I asked Lloyd if we could get Chinese food for dinner, and I promptly put on my pajamas. After eating, I could barely keep my eyes open, so I propped up with pillows and zonked out. At some point I went up to bed.

My dreams were crazy, with action-movie-type surroundings, but I was always either asleep or lying down in the dream. I think I was pretty tired. It’s tough to run away from the military helicopter when you’re lying under a kitchen bench. They are going to find you.

Coffee’s done – I need to get a cup.

8:44: Ok, we’re back. Lloyd got up at 7, and I would have, too, except now I know a secret. A couple of weeks ago he got up early, so I got up early. Much, much later in the day I asked why he got ready so early and he answered, “I was going to get you donuts, but you woke up.” I berated him and told him in no uncertain terms that he should never, never, never resist the urge to buy donuts.

So, when I heard him get up, I buried myself under my pillow for the next hour or so. In that dream I was a little kid and our dad (Lloyd) had just bought us a soda gun and I was sitting on the kitchen floor with my dumb little sisters trying to convince them to drink some Pepsi so we could wake up.

8:47: Now there’s a photo of donuts. I’d like to show you all the donut holes, but they appear to be gone. Our local bakery started doing a genius thing – they bag up donut holes by the dozen, so you just order them by the bag! They used to be out on a tray and they’d count them out by each order, but now it’s easy-peasy to get them. Of course, it does make it more difficult to just order 7.

Did I ever tell you I worked in a donut shop? With Brad? That’s another post for another day.

I think I’m done now. Enjoy your Saturday. What are you going to do, and when did you wake up?

I don’t even know why they are here. I think Lloyd had to buy them for some Republican function and they didn’t all get used. So, they have sat in my basement, and I don’t know what to do. I am mad at their very existence. Water is accessible everywhere. Use a glass, people! For me it’s on par with buying bagged air. (Sidebar: I absolutely adore those reusable metal water bottles, and drool over all the cute designs, but have successfully avoided buying even one. I never drink plain water unless I’m taking a pill. Flavored beverages for me, please, and keep ‘em coming.)

Back to the bottles – so, they will live on the shelf forever, and only be used in an ‘emergency’, which will never come. Even if we somehow lose our piped-in water, I will probably still hoard the stuff, thinking that we should save it for our seventh day without water, when we’ll really need it.

Stupid bottles. *grumble grumble*

Bright side – I did not trip on the way to wash clothes tonight!

My thumb is cut, but too gross to show,
Dinner was only toast and eggs.
The movie was stupid, I am sleepy.
The creative bucket is dragging the dregs.

This form of rhyme is not my style,
So it doesn’t even come out well.
Instant rhymes are hard to write,
so I’ll just have to say, “Oh well”.

Dang. You’re not supposed to use a word
to rhyme with the word that you just said.
Whatever. You’re no Rhyme Police.
Good night, everyone.

(I would like to point out that SEVERAL times during the edit of the FIRST edition of this poem, Lloyd groaned audibly – scoffing and making comments like “Gol.” SO, first prize to the best comeback to Lloyd!)

There is nothing better than coming home from a long day and discovering that Lloyd has tidied up the entire downstairs! Thank you, Lloyd! Thank you!

I was so impressed that I started a load of laundry and did some tidying of my own.

Then I took a ‘nighttime’ exposure of my clean downstairs. (Above picture) I do so love the dim.

Um, then I played around with the ‘nighttime’ exposure while waiting for the laundry to process.

Shazaam!!

I was looking for a copy of music that I stole borrowed in college, and went digging through the Suitcase O’ Music. I didn’t find it, but found some stuff from when I was in composition. I was arguably the worst one in that class, and I think it’s because I had grown up as a flute player, and thought in melody lines. Piano people think in chords, so it’s easier for them to figure that stuff out.

Sounds plausible, huh? Sounds much better than ‘I was lazy and didn’t know how to apply myself’.

Anyway, I found some stuff that I haven’t tried playing yet since I’m rusty and the piano is stuck shut. It’s mostly in minor, because I am a very melancholy soul at heart.

Sounds plausible, huh?

(Watch out, Brad. I found some recital programs that are future post fodder.)

B.L. was joined by Peeler Bird when Kathryn gave it to us long ago. Again – in days I can barely remember. (Lloyd likes to call it Stripper Bird, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.)

Beth gave us Bag Hippo and PorcuScrubber a couple of Christmases ago. They seem to be getting on with the others famously.

They are a fine family of animals who keep our kitchen clean, tidy, and full of peeled carrots and open bottles. Thanks, guys.

Go play with it and zero in on your ‘target’. I really wished I lived in Schenectady, New York!

Lloyd had a homecoming game last Friday night so I was alone (yay!) in the house for hours and hours with nothing on the agenda but to nap and watch stuff on Hulu. Well, I forgot to nap, and Hulu can be watched from the kitchen, so I cleaned up a bit in there.

For as little as I cook, I can’t figure out how the area by the stove becomes so disgusting. The few times I wipe down the counter, there are always bits of salt, pepper and sugar in this area. (And splatters of tomato sauce, but – whatever.) I was thinking that maybe I should go buy something to corral this stuff so I would just have one thing to wipe out, or maybe prototype something – but wait! I bought some Fiestaware at a fundraiser long ago! Lo and behold:

Before:

After:

Woo-hoo! Granules, consider yourselves – contained.

It struck me as we were talking in Runza that she seemed to not have aged a bit – she looked exactly like she did in college: same eyes, same laugh, same funny storytelling ability – but then I realized that I certainly don’t look exactly the same. I have wrinkles, a dead look in my eyes, and some seriously wonky hair. (Wait. That part is the same.) She must look a little different, too.

I always kid how I ”see people’s souls” which is really just my way of saying that I’m too lazy to notice or care about what people look like. So, driving home in a sleepy haze tonight, I was visiting the idea that my 20-year-old’s soul saw her 20-year-old’s soul inside, and really we were the same ‘kernel’ of Lauren/Kathryn (respectively), just with these layers of years and experience laid over that. Oh, and worse hair on my part.

In Colorado my brothers ran into an old friend in a grocery store, and as they visited Keren said, “It’s fascinating just watching the years melt away as you guys talk to each other.” Yes!

Does that make any sense? That we are who we are at the center, and time just adds to it, make us more interesting and more ‘us’.

Man, I’m tired. Forget I said anything.

Hooray for First Saturday! Second Saturday is in a couple of days!

We were getting ready to check out of the room and I was slowly gathering things up. We stayed in a little suite-type room that had a living room in front and a bedroom in the back.

What I said to Lloyd: “I’m packing up the car.”

What I meant by that: “I’m getting these things on the table. Just these things. Just these three things in my arms, really.”

What Lloyd understood: Lauren is packing everything up.

He actually was going to do a walk-through of the place, but I am usually such an uptight psycho amazingly responsible citizen, he didn’t. Thus, we completely missed the big red suitcase sitting on the dresser.

We drove all the way to Grand Junction – an hour away – and I even asked him when we were gassing up the rental car, “You got the suitcase, right?” He responded with a Look.

What Lauren thought the Look meant: “Of course I packed it, do you think I’m a child?”

What Lloyd meant by the Look: “Are you being funny? You packed it.”

See? Words would have been good to use there. Married people think they can read each other’s minds, but in this case – no.

We pulled up to the airport, I opened the trunk, and…… empty. There was much laughter, a little eye rolling, and some suffering of mocking.

My parents are priority mailing the important things – electronic stuff and Lloyd’s KEYS – and even though I told them they could just keep the clothes there, they are sending those along later.

Thanks, Mom & Dad, for being awesome. Thanks, Lloyd, for not getting bent out of shape. (Although, he says that I am definitely off packing duty.)

Look at it:

mosquito

Now in all caps:

MOSQUITO

Mohs-queeto.

Hmmmmmm…. turns out that I don’t have anything interesting to say, either……

Um….

Hmmmm….. this post is really taking a turn for the worse, isn’t it?

Quick. Somebody say something. The silence is getting awkward.

If I have to drive somewhere, finding a shady spot trumps everything. I will park in the farthest spot from the door if it guarantees that the car won’t be an oven when I get in again.

Along those lines, I would like to shake the hand of every shopping center designer who put trees into their plan. More trees, I say!!

We only do about 2-3 loads of dishes a week, and there are still 15-20 of them left. *sigh* I usually buy a giant thing of Electrosol tabs from Sam’s Club, but I like how they work.