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I'm Not the New Me

I liked it very, very much, but that's not too surprising, considering what a big fan of Wendy's writing I am. If you can get your hands on a copy, I definitely recommend it.

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It's the perfect gift!


Remember that ball of wool for the birds I showed you a couple days ago? Well, this is what it looks like now. Is it possible the birds decimated it to this degree? Or should I be blaming a certain fur-covered, four-legged, butt-chewing DOG?


Wednesday, April 27, 2005

I went out to dinner last night and so I came home much later than usual. While I was driving along I-405, I called home to let JB know I was on my way, and the phone just rang. Weird, I thought, and dialed his cell - no answer. When my phone buzzed a few minutes later, I asked him where he'd been. "How was dinner?" he asked. I replied that it had been good and where had he been, again? "What did you eat?" Well, there had been scallops, and - wait, what the hell? HELLO, simple question here, I blared to JB, who eventually admitted he'd been playing Xbox.

So while the phone was ringing, with his wife on the other end, who by the way is PREGNANT and could totally be in need of HELP OF SOME KIND, my husband had blithely continued his game of Halo Live. "Are you going to do this when I'm in labor?" I asked accusingly. "Well, I mean, you could have left a message," he said. "You know, if it was important."

I was very glad I'd left his Halo-playing ass at home, because men who do not leap gallantly to the phone to exclaim with joy over the eminent arrival of their spouses do not deserve the sort of dinner I had. My coworker Sarah and I went to Rover's after work yesterday, and oh man. There was something called an amuse-bouche. There were sea scallops. There was black tea sorbet. There was tiny tender juicy bites of quail smothered in buttery wonderfulness. And there was a "symphony" of desserts, which is how I'd like all my desserts served from now on. "Excuse me," I'll say, "do you have that in a symphony?"

It was expensive but worth every penny as far as I'm concerned; hooray for a night of excellent food and company. Sarah's a great friend to have in the office - one thankfully lacking a mercurial temperament, whose working relationship with me does not seem to change based on the positions of the planets, and who seems refreshingly uninterested in playing politics, not that Workplace has made me, um, completely fucking batshit paranoid about those sorts of things, or anything - but she's also a great friend period, who totally did not make fun of me for unbuttoning not one, but TWO buttons on my pants last night. Oh, and she also gave me this:

I'm sorry, I should have warned you, right? I mean, what with the searing of your retinas from the cuteness and all. I mean, my god, the EARS, they KILL me. I am going to make my kid wear this every single day.

JB, having watched me ponderously mouth-breathe my way through two scarves and half a hat before abandoning knitting altogether months ago, was way impressed over this little coat (which also has matching booties!). "She knitted that?" he said incredulously. "All by herself? Wow, she's really good. Will she make me a hat? Because I only have half of one." "I think I hear your Xbox calling," I sniffed.


Once again I've decided to start taking the bus system to and from work. The weather's turning beautiful, and a little daily walking couldn't hurt. My only problem is that I am officially too stupid to figure out a route. I know what bus to get on near my house, but once it trundles into the university district, it's a complete mystery to me as to what I should do in order take a second bus to my office. I've stared at maps here. I've called the customer service line and talked with an impatient Metro employee who clearly felt I was undeserving of Seattle's fine public transportation ("Do you know where the guard shack is?" "Uh, guard shack? No." "SIGH." Etc.) I tried the horrible, terrible, useless Trip Planner, which keeps thinking I'm traveling from Federal Way. I guess I'll just have to work up the nerve to wing it one of these days. What's the worst that can happen? (...AND SHE WAS NEVER HEARD FROM AGAIN)

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