My dog Skip just wants to be loved, and as such he will submit to getting decorated with pretty much anything my family (usually my dad) decides to put on him.
This is from back in October, when Skip had a procedure that left stitches on his chest. My dad sent it to me in an email with this subject line: "Skip celebrates gay pride week".
Now it is the holiday season, and over the weekend Skip wound up with a big Christmas tree ornament hanging off his collar. He freaked out and ran around with it bumping off his chest for a while, and then he sat down and started chewing on it. So it was replaced with this:
My brother sent me a link to the video below, and after watching it, I am pretty sure I want to be an astronomer. I am probably no more dedicated to this idea than when I was 8 and wondered whether space ever ended and where, but I think you'll be with me when you check it out.
From the NYT: "Woods’s marital indiscretions have been the No. 1 topic of discussion on every outlet from internet postings to tabloid magazines at grocery checkouts to reports in the mainstream news media."
REALLY? I thought we were all still chuckling about the fact that Tiger Woods and his wife had enough spice left in their relationship that she would chase him around with a golf club when they had a tiff. And oopsy, car crash, but no big deal.
What the hell is going on? This is what happens when you only get your new from the NYT and NPR.
I got highlights! For the first time in my life! I love them so much and I can't believe I waited 26 years. I should have started getting highlights as a toddler. Oh wait, I was blond then. And my brains were still developing. But now they are as developed as they are going to get, so I can start killing them.
You probably can't see them in the photo below but I don't care because I LOVE THEM.
I just went to the physical therapist at work for the nagging hip/butt pain that has made running progressively more painful for the past few months. He had me do all kinds of exercises, he stretched my legs, he watched me walk. And this is what he said: "Your biomechanics are such that your trunk and posterior have more lateral movement then they should."
Do you know what that means? I move my ass too much when I walk.
The prescription: no running for a while, and daily hip exercises. Yeehaw.
Yesterday I went to the Bay Area Wellesley alum group's holiday tea. It was at a huge house in Berkeley that was stuffed to the brim with crazy art and books. I am no art expert, but many of the pieces looked ugly and expensive. It seemed like there were easily 75+ alums in attendance, eating cookies and drinking tea. I was, as far as I could tell, the only 05er there - but I went with a bunch of 04s, so I didn't actually have to talk to many people I didn't know. Wait, that's the point of it? Oh. Oh, well.
My four day Thanksgiving weekend was kind of odd, to be honest. Good, but odd. Turkey Day was wonderful and fry-tastic, and is documented in a previous post. Friday I saw Mike off to band practice at noon and then managed to fall deeply asleep while reading (damn you, Infinite Jest - I will finish you one day!) until he finished several hours later. I really hate wasting vacation days, but I have halfway convinced myself that I really needed those snoozes. After my epic nap I met Mike at Green Apple Books, which gave me massive amounts of inspiration for Christmas presents. Edward Gorey tarot cards, anyone?
Saturday, recovered from my overwhelming sleepiness, I hopped on my bike for a few hours. Mike and I did the Marin Headlands, which I have been avoiding because they are big mother-f'ing hills. But you know what? They weren't that bad! And the view, of course, was amazing.
And THEN, a few hours later, we went for a hike. Not a super tough hike, granted, and one that included a stop for beer in the middle, but still. We took the Dipsea Trail up from Mill Valley, and it just so happened that we hiked right into the middle of the Quadruple Dipsea, in which crazy Northern Californians run the Dipsea Trail four times, for a nice light day of 28 miles of hill running. Why not? In our case, we only did a fraction of that - we hit the Tourist Club after a few miles, which was lovely and full of German beer. Then we retraced our steps down the approx 8,000,000 stairs that make up the Dipsea Trail and headed back into the city.
We wrapped up Saturday by going to a jazz club with some friends, where we ate delicious Ethiopian food and watched some drunk ladies who looked like they had materialized straight out of an early 90's sitcom dance awkwardly to what was a very good jazz quartet. One lady was wearing boots, tights, a skirt, a blouse, and a wolfy crystal barette - and they were all red. She whipped her butt-length hair around with a fervor that was completely divorced from the actual mood of the music. The saxophonist from the band would pump his non-instrument hand in the air and grin every time anyone in the room clapped for him or his band, and the keyboardist looked like Rick James, so really, all was right with the world.
On Sunday my cousin and I pretended to shop but we gave up quickly and went to a bar for some midafternoon drinks. These were followed by more drinks at Fly Bar, which is how I came to imbibe more alcohol on Sunday than on the three evenings prior, which makes no sense given the practicalities of sleeping in vs not sleeping in.
I am so dying to have access to Community access right now - some Dartmouth dude who is studying at Wellesley for the semester posted a hyper-misogynistic ant-Wellesley rant and it blew up in his face. Then again, now that I am an employed adult, it is probably best that I can't waste my time reading a flame war on Community.
One thing I noticed while scrolling through the comments on Jezebel: someone whose handle is Cimorene wrote "Oh man. I used to spend hours--hours!--posting on Community. Especially during finals. I also used to send messages to Community late at night when I got drunk. I cannot even imagine the shit storm this caused...Ohhh I miss my little Wellesley Womb right now."
Who who who? Who is that?
Also, I still think the Womb would have made the best mascot ever.