Category: Daily Life

Yesterday turned out to be one of those fun, yet tiring, activity-packed days that often seem to crop up on the third day of a three-day weekend.

My sister, my niece and I headed to the zoo in the late morning and spent a good portion of the afternoon there. We’d packed a picnic lunch including turkey and ham sandwiches, chips, and strawberry shortcakes for dessert. Our zoo is large enough that it isn’t possible to see everything before complete exhaustion sets in, so we settled for one big loop around and a bird show before calling it quits.

After that, we dropped my niece off at home and my sister and I met my husband at the movie theater to see “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” I enjoyed seeing it again and I stand by my assertion that it’s the best Harry Potter movie so far.

By the time the movie let out, it was dinnertime, so we retrieved my niece so my brother-in-law could go into work, and headed out to a restaurant for hamburgers.

There wasn’t a lot of excitement yesterday (well, until we had a huge lightning storm in the middle of the night), but it was a great way to end the holiday weekend.

Today: back to work. Tomorrow: it’s my birthday! (but I’ll be at work anyway…darn.)

No work today! Even though Independence Day fell on Sunday this year, we still have Monday off from work for some reason. Hooray!

My husband and I took it easy yesterday. We did a little shopping in the afternoon and returned home to do some rearranging of the beta tanks. Mine has been moved to the living room so we can keep an eye on both fish at once. This displaced more house plants from on top of the television; one particularly unhealthy-looking specimen is now outside getting some much-needed rain and sun. I added an item to my beta’s tank which had been labeled “Large Jaguar Skull.” It serves as a great cave in which the fish can hide, and it looks really cool, too. Next to the tiny fish, you can imagine it as a dragon’s skull. Well, I can anyway.

We considered trying to find a nearby fireworks display last night, but we both agreed that it wasn’t a high priority. It’s just not worth it to fight a huge crowd to find a spot in a bug-infested meadow to sit for 45 minutes with your neck craned at an unnatural angle to watch explosions in the sky. To be perfectly honest, ever since September 11, 2001, the trappings of July 4th make me a bit edgy. I’m not comfortable with the sound of random explosions in my neighborhood (and let’s not even talk about all the planes buzzing by on their way to various air shows).

Today the plan is to go to the zoo with my sister and my niece. We had a huge thunderstorm last night, but our local meterologists claim that the rain is pretty much over for the day. It’ll probably get chokingly humid as the temperature rises, but that’s par for the course. After that, we’re considering a trip to the movie theater, sans niece, to see the latest Harry Potter movie. My sister hasn’t seen it yet and my husband and I are eager to see it again.

Well, off I go to fix protein shakes for breakfast and make sure we’re still going to the zoo. Have a lovely Monday!

For about an eight-month stretch in late 1999 through early 2000, I had a wonderful dotcom job, made even more wonderful by a close-knit family of co-workers. We developed, maintained and promoted websites during the day and often socialized together in the evenings.

For a long time after the company moved/folded, the former employees continued to get together on the first Thursday of every month to keep in touch. It had been a while since our last event, so I sent out an Evite a couple of weeks ago to get a group together last night.

We met at a downtown restaurant and bar with a big patio and enjoyed a lovely evening outside. Eventually we had a group of about 13 people who stayed and chatted until it began to get dark. We caught up on all the new jobs and new babies and had an informal “where are they now?” roundtable regarding everyone who didn’t manage to join us this time. A lot has changed for all of us since we worked together, but the camaraderie remains.

Almost every year, my husband and I throw a big backyard party and invite pretty much everyone we know. Over the past few years, the guest list has grown to almost 200 people, and we ordinarily end up with at least 50 or 60 in attendance. We had considered skipping the party this year to economize, but I think we’ll go ahead with it in mid to late September and plan it as a potluck. Last night reminded me how rewarding it is to stay connected with my friends. Why pass up a chance to keep that going?

I got my car back from the mechanic yesterday! It had spent about two months in the shop – mostly waiting for the head to be rebuilt and shipped back from California – and I didn’t realize just how much I’d missed it until I got it back.

It was supposed to be ready after six o’clock, so my husband and I stopped by right at 6:30 p.m. only to learn that it would be ready in “about another half an hour.” I had company coming, so I left my husband there and headed home to make Spanish rice and Nicaraguan beans to complement the tamales I’d purchased after work.

Some of my guests had already arrived and the beans were nearly ready when I saw a red version of my car pull into the driveway. It turned out there was a problem getting my timing belt to remain at the proper tension, so my husband caught a ride home with one of our friends who happened to have stopped by the mechanic’s shop to visit.

Eight other women and I had a lovely party on the deck with the aforementioned food, some wine (including a weird Riesling that came in a pink, cat-shaped bottle), Coronas, and chocolate chip cookies and chocolate cake for dessert. I ate way too much, drank an incredible (for me) three Coronas in a row, and stayed up far too late.

At about 9 p.m., my husband popped outside to tell me that my car was ready! Our mechanic had stayed at the shop and worked doggedly on my car until it was finished. Hubby took my emergency backup car, left it at the auto shop and returned with my car. It was purring like a new car – the rebuilt engine sounds completely different than it ever has since we’ve owned the car. You’d never guess it was a 17-year-old vehicle.

Unfortunately, my husband didn’t know to retrieve the magnetic card that I need to get into my parking lot at work, so I’ll have to stop by and get it this morning. I don’t mind – it’ll give me a chance to take over a “thank you” gift for the extra effort our mechanic put into the job. I was going to bake a batch of blueberry scones, but I’m out of flour so I think I’ll just get a selection of pastries from a bakery.

Best of all, the engine rebuild and all the associated labor ended up being significantly cheaper than the original estimate. How’s that for good news?!

In a break with tradition, I thought I’d include a photo today to illustrate my story. Ever since we moved to this house, we’ve seen a ginger-colored rabbit in the yard every spring and summer. It might be a natural variation, but my guess is that someone “freed” a pet rabbit which managed to keep its bloodline going with the help of an accommodating wild bunny. I can’t say for sure how many of these rabbits we have around; this may be the first and only one, but it looks less time-ravaged than I remember. (Click the photo for a little bit closer look.)

I think it’s a testament to the relatively predator-free qualities of our area that such a noticeable bunny manages to survive. Even my cat, The Weasel, didn’t manage to wipe out the light-colored rabbits during her reign as Scourge of the Cottontails.

I tried to take a photo of this(?) rabbit a couple of mornings ago as it attempted to hide in the grass of our back yard. As eye-catching as it is, I spotted it right away but I had to give it points for effort. It was hunkered down pretty well, and even managed to mostly disappear – at least from my vantage point – after it stretched and flattened itself below the height of the grass.

The photo above was taken yesterday evening from about six feet away. As you might guess, these bunnies are not characterized by overreaction to the potential of danger.

All the domestic animals are doing pretty well except that The Possum has begun pulling out tufts of her fur again, so she’s probably due for a follow-up chiropractor appointment. The other cats are just doing what cats do in the summertime: sprawling on the cool floor all day long.

The new beta fish settled in nicely and spends a lot of time building bubble nests at one corner of the tank, only to see them drawn inexorably into the filter and destroyed. It doesn’t seem to faze him, though. Since he appears to be thriving, I suppose he can be officially named Phoenix now. I just hope that doesn’t jinx him.

I received another call yesterday from a financial planner who would love to help me take my vast riches and parlay them into a jewel-encrusted cave full of treasure chests. The only problem with that plan is my complete lack of vast riches, including the vast riches it takes to, say, pay more than the minimum on my bills.

Three years of inefficient self-employment left a big dent in my financial wherewithal, which I am now working valiantly to correct. I always thought that I lived pretty frugally to begin with, but now that all of my income is going directly to bills and food, I realize that I’d come to appreciate a few luxuries after all.

Rather than complain like the spoiled yuppie I am, my plan is to get together with my husband, finally make a spreadsheet to get a realistic budget put together, and see what we can actually do to get things put right. Even though my husband and I are the grasshopper and the ant, respectively, I think we can reach a compromise and at least take some of the mystery out of each other’s financial situation.

In the meantime, I’ll paint my own toenails ($25 savings, but no foot rub, darn it), put Flexall on my back when my muscles are sore ($80 savings over a deep-tissue massage, although much less therapeutic), find a cheaper hairdresser so I can stay blonde (I spent years in the nineties with a dark spot on the back of my head from dyeing my own hair – I’m not doing that again), and rely on Rodney Yee for exercise instruction each morning (at least until the VCR breaks). If all goes well, I’ll be back to wasting money on cafe mochas and unnecessary pairs of shoes in no time!

I recently skimmed back over a bunch of my old blog entries and discovered that I have a lot of misconceptions about my own habits. Take weekend naps, for instance.

Every time I mention that I took a nap on a Saturday or Sunday, I say it was “unusual” or “uncharacteristic.” Put five or six weeks’ worth of these mentions in a row and suddenly it ain’t such a big surprise when I nod off on a lazy Sunday afternoon! No, far from being unprecedented, my weekend naps are practically a standing appointment (and this weekend proved to be no exception).

I also learned that I eat fast food more often than I’d like to admit. That might explain why I’m having such a difficult time staying at my current jeans size.

Well, despite my husband’s heroic efforts on his behalf, my beta fish died yesterday. Hubby called me in the late afternoon to tell me, and he sounded very broken up about it. I, on the other hand, had not been dealing with the creature’s rapidly declining health all day, every day, and thus had not formed much of an attachment in the mere week we had him. (Not that I didn’t feel bad that he’d been suffering, but still…)

My husband would not let one fish’s tragic demise shatter his vision of a beautiful, healthy fish for each of us. By the time I got home, he’d handled all the last rites for poor Spectre, cleaned out the tank and filled it with fresh, treated water, replaced the filter, evaluated a series of prospective residents at a trustworthy pet store, and installed a vivid red, orange and blue beta. My husband’s suggested name for the new fish: Phoenix. I told him that would remain to be seen.

For now, though, the new fish looks robustly healthy. He darts around his tank, displays his gorgeous “plumage” and treats mealtime like a hunt. He’s a lot bigger than his predecessor, so that might be an advantage all by itself.

The whole experience has quelled my desire to have a fish at the office, however. The last thing I need while I’m trying to work is to worry about pH levels, water changes, and swim bladder disorders. Under the circumstances, I think I’d be better off bringing in a lava lamp.

I went shopping for contact lens solution yesterday and discovered, to my amusement, that my brand of choice has abruptly reversed an incredibly stupid packaging redesign that they’d perpetrated on their consumers not terribly long ago.

I buy Opti-One contact lens cleaner, and for some reason I have a hard time remembering the name. For the first umpteen years I bought the product, it was easy to spot in the store because it came in an orange box. If you’re a contact lens wearer, you already know that every other brand of contact lens solution on the market comes packaged in some variation of blue or green.

Not too long ago – it may have been within this calendar year – I went to Target to get a new bottle of Opti-One and I couldn’t find any. More careful investigation revealed that it was there all right, now repackaged in a dark blue box just like all the other brands. I finally committed the name of the product to memory and went on buying it in the new box, even though each purchase made me a little grumpy at the extra effort it took to discern which of the nearly identical boxes I wanted.

Yesterday I made my way to the contact lens solution aisle and there, shining like a brand-differentiated beacon, was Opti-One in an orange box again! I would venture to guess that not every consumer had been willing to put in the extra two seconds to make the leap to the blue packaging. Sales probably declined. Perhaps the company finally did some market research. One way or another, common sense finally prevailed. Isn’t that refreshing?

Here are a few things I’ve been thinking about this week:

• Once I completed Eats, Shoots and Leaves, I thought I’d be spotting bad punctuation all over the place. Instead, I found another misuse of the word “grizzly” in place of “grisly.” It was in this week’s Entertainment Weekly magazine in a review of the book The Italian Boy: “Wise’s first book uses a grizzly 1831 murder…”. When, oh, when will people stop murdering those poor grizzly bears?! Then again, EW has never been anyone’s standard for superior editing practices.
• I worked until 9:00 p.m. last night restoring the content of a website that underwent a catastrophic three-server meltdown which wiped it out along with all its backups. A site that helped the process immensely was Archive.org. They store website archives at various intervals for pretty much any site you can think of. They didn’t have anything beyond June 2003 for the site I was working on, but it was close enough to be a very valuable head start. A big shout-out to the Webdawg, who did all the really hard technical stuff.
• My fish is still alive, but acting strangely. I keep finding him draped over the top of the thermometer in his tank with his head and most of his body out of the water. Betas are air-breathers, so it isn’t quite as freaky as it may sound. Still, it seems somewhat alarming, but the next time I check on him, he’s usually swimming around again. He’s only on his second day of an eight-day medication cycle, so I’ll just have to wait and see.
• We’re switching health insurance companies at work and the new company asks a lot more questions than the last one. It’s such a drag to try to figure out the dates of every illness I’ve had over the last five years. Did I have my appendix out in 1999 or 2000? Did I have pneumonia last winter or the winter before? Are these six medications the only ones my husband takes, or are there more hidden somewhere else? I thought that was the point of agreeing to fork over your medical records. Who remembers these things?

That’s all for today, folks. Have a lovely day!