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There’s nothing like working a six-day week (which doesn’t even count all the prep work and “real job” work in the previous weeks) to make a full day off seem like heaven. Yesterday I slept late, put in the bare minimum of effort it took to sustain my vital functions for the day, and reveled in the fact that nobody was expecting me to do anything or be anywhere all day long.

I spent a lot of quality time with the cats while I caught up on a week’s worth of TiVo’ed offerings. My husband and I discussed going to a movie, but ended up watching the first three episodes of The 4400 instead. It was a lovely treat that nicely addressed our lingering X-Files withdrawal syndrome. I can’t wait to see what happens next Sunday.

Before bed, I read the first chapter of the new Laurie Notaro book, I Love Everyone (and Other Atrocious Lies), which I bought two weeks ago but hadn’t even taken out of the bag until now. I love her writing – it always makes me laugh out loud while I’m reading. If you haven’t read her book The Idiot Girls’ Action Adventure Club, I highly recommend it, too. I’ve probably read the essay, “Candy Apple Freakshow” a dozen times, and it still makes tears stream from my eyes with laughter every time I revisit it.

Last week actually went like clockwork compared to the other seminars we’ve done, and I was glad to be able to relax a bit and have fun with it. However, I think it’s best that this week will feature significantly less beer in the evenings and significantly later wakeup times in the morning. I have to think of what’s best for the blog!

There are only two days left of the seminar! Everything’s still going very smoothly (knock on wood again, just in case).

Last night there was a social event for the attendees, and I decided to do a little shopping on my way home so that I could dispel the image of my functional, yet ugly, cargo shorts from earlier in the day. I bought a cute, two-layer top (silky aqua tank with a sheer, multi-colored, long-sleeved outer layer). I paired it with some denim capri pants and black sandals. The minute I showed up at the party, my dad said, “Is that your Britney Spears outfit?” Ha ha.

I asked him if he was saying that my outfit was inappropriate for my advanced age, but his friend told me, “Don’t listen to him,” which seemed like good advice.

I do have a little trouble deciding whether certain outfits are really cute or just make me look like I’ve trying in vain to recapture my lost youth. I’m glad I have a sister and lots of girlfriends to guide me most of the time.

Today is Day 4 of the 6-day seminar and things are going quite well (knock on wood). We are running out of a few vital supplies (notably certificates and t-shirts), but replacements should arrive tomorrow. All in all, this is probably the most low-stress seminar I’ve ever worked on, despite the fact that attendance figures just keep rising.

It’s been EXTREMELY hot all week in a need-a-clean-bra-every-day kind of way (sorry guys, but you gals will know exactly what I mean). I’ve been wearing pants and jeans all week, but I made a quick shopping run out to Gordman’s yesterday and picked up two pairs of cargo shorts from the young men’s section (women’s shorts are too short!). I’m wearing a lovely khaki pair today that’s accented with orange trim and came complete with a compass clipped to the side in case I get turned around in the conference parking lot. Actually, it might come in handy on my canoe trip next weekend, you never know.

One thing that’s notable about these seminars is that they provide many opportunities for socializing. On Tuesday night I had three pints of pale ale, which caused me to exhibit red, glassy eyes all day yesterday even though I felt fine. There are parties tonight and tomorrow night, too, so I’ll have to try to pace myself better from here on out. I also changed to a new pair of contacts ’cause once you get bar smoke in your eyes, that’s pretty much all she wrote for disposable lenses.

Well, I’ve used up my little block of free time. I’m off to pick up another Jeepload of seminar attendees and take them to their training location. Have a great Thursday!

I’m taking this week off from my regular job and helping my dad put on a six-day seminar. There are more than 225 registrants this year, which makes it the largest seminar we’ve done in 23 years. Keeping track of all that paperwork is quite a task, but it’s going okay so far. Tomorrow will actually be a little less taxing than today, but it’ll get really hectic Wednesday through Saturday when everyone splits up into 5 or 6 different classes each day (right now everyone’s taking the same class).

I swung by Target on my way home and managed to only spend about $32 bucks, which has to be some kind of cash-saving record for me. I mainly just bought what I originally went there to buy, but I impulse-bought a big package of clothes hangers and a DVD of So I Married An Axe Murderer (arguably the best Mike Myers movie ever). After that, I decided to get a meatball sub for dinner (delicious!) and since then I’ve been vegging on the couch watching everything that the TiVo has recorded in the last week.

I finally dropped the TiVo’s remote control on the hardwood floor one time too many. Luckily, we have an extra one that we got during some kind of TiVo promotion a few years ago. It’s not quite as fully programmed as the one that’s sitting on the end table revealing tantalizing glimpses of circuit board, but I’m sure my husband can rectify that when he has time. (Thanks, honey!)

I’d say more, but I need to pay bills and get a little bit of work done tonight. My posts will be a somewhat sporadic this week, I predict, but it’ll all be back to normal soon.

As you might have gathered from the previous two days’ posts, my taste in objets d’art is a little…unconventional. That’s what makes me such a fan of flea markets and rummage sales – you just never know when someone’s going to part with something really weird and cool.

For example, I have a beautiful little bas-relief tile from Central America that I picked up for around 50 cents at a charity thrift shop. It depicts the touching scene of a jaguar devouring a human heart. Now there’s the kind of thing you just can’t get at Wal-Mart!

I have a painting in my living room called “Bluegrass Rhinos” that was done by our friend, Neil Cannon. It depicts rhinos grazing placidly in the fields of the midwestern U.S. (they do that, right?) as a tornado approaches, carrying a leering jester’s mask toward the foreground. My husband and I think it’s cool. When the glass broke and we had to have the frame repaired, I could tell that the frame shop people thought it was appalling.

My other living room decoration that people either love or don’t mention (they’ve taken to heart the advice of Thumper’s father from Bambi, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”) is a big metal carousel horse sculpture that we have hanging above the couch. I like it. It conveys a nice sense of action, the colors complement the rest of the room decor, and it appeals to my inner child.

If you look closely at even my more “normal” decorations, you’ll sometimes see something unusual. I found a great cast-iron candlestick at a flea market a few years ago that has a Jack and the Beanstalk motif. I keep a stuffed toy platypus on my desk because, hey, did you know you could buy a stuffed toy platypus? My favorite ceramic decoration is a big whiskey decanter shaped like a jackalope. I wouldn’t want a “real” jackalope in my house because I think taxidermy is too creepy, but I enjoy having a depiction of one.

I suppose I’ll never completely grow out of my interest in the weird and unusual. It’s a persistent reminder that the world is far more varied and fascinating than what I see every day. That’s a good thing to remember.

Heaven forbid that I should skip a day, so instead I’ll waste another few seconds of your time with goofy stuff I really want, even though I’m not sure it has a place in any kind of normal household. Today’s selection:

T-Rex Head Trophy – This would look spectacular over our fireplace in the living room. Well worth the $325 (if I had it).

I slept late this morning, so I’m afraid today’s entry will be shortened in favor of quieting my growling stomach with a protein shake and fixing my unruly hair for the upcoming day of meetings.

Shopping Find of the Day: Tiki Head Tissue Box Cover

I can’t explain exactly why, but every time I look at it, it cracks me up. I must own one someday…

I didn’t bring this up at the time, but after my first beta fish, Spectre, died, we almost lost his replacement, too. My new fish, Phoenix, was doing well for about a week but then began exhibiting “sick fish” behaviors: specifically, burrowing into the rocks at the bottom of the tank and swimming up into the filter. A close look revealed distressing news: a fungal infection and the dreaded ick (the best-named disease ever!).

By this time, my husband had fought the good fight over my previous fish and he wasn’t about to let another one die. As is his wont, he went on a quest to compile the bulk of mankind’s knowledge about Betta splendens. He talked to the owners of the little local pet shop, went online, and talked to the fish people at the big chain pet shop. He took Phoenix to the pet shop in a Mason jar and put him in some different water. He bought a new tank. He treated him with sea salt and medicines and healthy bacteria. He started calling the betas by their correct name, “bettas,” even though it bugs me and makes me think of those awful commercials for Better Blocks, which I thought were called “Betta Blocks” because of the spokeswoman’s accent.

The best treatment seemed to be some blue, Alka-Seltzer-like tablets. The fish was his old self again after just one treatment (although it did stain the jaguar skull decoration in the tank – a small price to pay).

My husband’s ultimate research source for all things beta? BettaTalk.com. He now thinks the BettaTalk gal, Faith, is the supreme beta expert on earth. I’m sure the fact that she’s a hot, blonde rock ‘n roll chick is merely a bonus.

My fish is fully recovered now and spends all of his copious free time making a huge, slimy nest of bubbles on top of the tank, in anticipation of a mate who will never arrive. Both of our betas will come up to the side of the tank when someone approaches and do a little excited shimmy. My husband thinks they like us. I think they’re big pigs who want to be fed more often than they should be. Still, it’s fun to see them wriggle around joyfully when you talk to them, no matter why they’re doing it.

We’ve discovered that having the fish tanks on top of the TV causes us to watch the fish instead of the television on many occasions. That’s yet another reason that it’s probably just as well that I didn’t bring a beta into the office. I’m distractible enough as it is!

If I’m semi-coherent this morning, it’s because I’ve only had about five hours of sleep. I worked at my dad’s from afternoon through evening yesterday and then finished up the last 20-page newsletter I’ll be doing for one of my clubs. It was worth the lack of sleep to get rid of that particular albatross, but I could sure go for about three more hours of shuteye…

I took a little time to myself on Saturday morning and sat out in the shade on our back deck to read. I noticed that my crabapple tree is loaded with fruit this year; I plan to make jelly out of it in the fall.

On Saturday afternoon, I had an appointment with a new hairstylist to cut and highlight my hair. She works in an area with which I am unfamiliar, so I gave myself plenty of extra time to get to my appointment and I still got lost. When I finally made it there, she did a fantastic job on the color and the style and charged half of what my last stylist charged. Now maybe I won’t have to wait until my roots are an inch long on either side of my part before I get my hair done!

While I was lost on my way to my appointment, I stumbled across a town about 20 minutes from my house that I’d heard was a great shopping and dining destination. It was quite picturesque and I hope to plan a lingering visit soon.

My final moments of relaxation this weekend came at around 1:00 a.m. while I was unwinding after finishing the newsletter. I watched the “I Love 1990” installment of VH-1’s “I Love the 90s” series and discovered that I must have been living in a pop culture void that year. Most of the songs sounded only vaguely familiar and I had seen just one of the movies the show featured. Then I realized that in 1990 I was driving a pickup truck with no radio, which effectively cut off my exposure to new music. Also, I was working at my first post-college job and probably didn’t have the time or the money to go to the movies.

If I weren’t so tired, I might have a coherent point to wrap this up. As it stands, I need to preserve any usable brainpower for work today. Have a great Monday and I’ll try to make more sense tomorrow.

Do you ever drive around with your car windows open? If not, it’s something I highly recommend. I’ve been letting the breeze into the car lately except when it’s unbearably hot and I’ve noticed that I can almost navigate by odor alone.

On the way to work I pass:

• A factory that produces tins of popcorn. I can usually tell if it’s caramel, butter or cheese flavored on a given day.
• A fertilizer plant. It has a sharp, nitrogenous tang that’s unmistakable.
• A coffee roasterie. Our town has two of them, actually, and I can smell both of them at different points along the highway. Sometimes I think I could get a caffeine buzz just from the aroma.

On my way home from work, I notice:

• A soap factory. On certain days, I can even tell what brand of soap they’re making.
• Cedar shingles. There’s a roofing company near the highway, and the air nearby smells like the inside of a cedar closet.

To say nothing of the more random nice smells, such as freshly-mowed grass, someone’s backyard barbecue, or a sweet-scented flowering bush or tree.

I’ve read that women of childbearing age have a significantly more developed sense of smell than men or post-menopausal women. That’s definitely true in my case – I have the sense of smell of a wild animal. It’s a wonder I can live in a house with four cats without running away screaming. On the other hand, I worked for more than seven years at a printing company, inhaling ink fumes every day, and didn’t even notice the smell except when I came back from long vacations. But I digress…

So anyway, try the open-windows commute tonight and see what you notice in the air. It might provide you with an interesting new perspective.