Monthly Archives: February 2008

My watch says Tuesday, but I swear, I have a serious case of The Mondays.

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If I only wear 10 of the 14,000 teeshirts that I own, why do I have to work so hard to SHOVE them in their drawer? Why can’t I just throw away the 13,990 and have loads of drawer space? Hell, I could even HANG them if I just had 10. I guess this is my way of saying, “hey look, sometimes I can’t throw things away, too.” This may be a realization I came to after considering how many times I’d glue these shoes back together. (Answer: until there wasn’t any glue left.) (Answer should be: Until metallic shoes have gone the way of Flare Jeans and are no longer awesome.)

On Friday I ran at the gym. I ran .82 miles without stopping, officially noting the best shape I’ve been in since I was 21 years old. I have celebrated this life victory by not doing a single healthy thing since Friday. I make awesome decisions like that on a regular basis.

I want to workout, but every day I sit here at my desk and the Coke machine down the hall is like “SARAH, YOU HAVE THAT CHANGE IN YOUR PURSE. YOU CAN BUY ME.” I tell it back, “No. I’m trying to fit back into those jeans that I could fit into a year ago. Quit bothering me. I’ll never drink you again.” The word ‘never’ in this circumstance generally means ‘until about 10:30 a.m. when I can’t take it anymore.’

In other exciting news: I’ve worn a green sweater and a red/maroonish top all day long, and not a soul has said anything to me about how I look Festive or Christmas-y. This comment-less streak will end at approximately 5:08 p.m. when I walk in the door and Zack sees me. The man loves me more than life itself, but he can not resist a Christmas outfit comment.

My Aunt Karen has recently been introduced to this website. Hi Karen. I was serious about Mema finding out about the margaritas. Shhh.

this just in

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I am going to go work out after work today, but how am I supposed to do that when I can’t pull my hair into a ponytail? WHAT WAS I THINKING? I can’t even think straight unless my hair is in a ponytail.

a catch-all photo post

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Because I only get around to adding photos to my flickr account once ever eon or so, when I do, I feel the overwhelming need to post all of them on my blog at the same time. Whereas posting logic would tell me that I should use the photos that don’t relate to each other in the least for a good week’s worth of posts with digital media accompaniment–I can’t. I’m real bad at that. Instead I try to do that and then never post them at all, and so here they all are. I’m going to try real hard to make them all connect together even though they aren’t supposed to.

Our kitchen: Is decorated in black, grey, white and red. And the walls are painted brown. Why, Oh Why would someone install all black and white kitchen things and then paint the walls khaki and brown? There are some things in life I will never understand. My kitchen is one. My gold and blue bathroom is another, but I don’t want to talk about it.

Our living room: Several people have asked for pictures of the new house, and for those of you that haven’t seen it, here’s our living room. It’s insanely green and no matter how many couches we add to the mix, it doesn’t counteract the fact that it looks like a rainforest has surrounded us. THAT BEING SAID, I kinda like it.

There is nothing in the world I love more than:

Except this: my glorious, fantastic, fabulous file box. It organizes my life, and has liberated me of the piles and piles and piles of paperwork in every drawer of every dresser in my whole entire house.

The only thing I love more than my file cabinet is this (and her sister, not pictured) :

(and that’s my new haircut.)

here’s what I love most:

whole grain bread is for the birds

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At 11:30 this morning I was starving and facing death and implosion if I didn’t eat some food stat-pronto.

Now, it’s 2:06 and my hunger has been arm wrestled into submission by my foolishly nutritious decision this morning to use Zack’s crappy wheat bread filled with nuts and oats and whole grains, instead of my precious, precious white bread that leaves cool teeth marks whenever I take a bite. I do not want your heart-helping goodness. I want a sandwich suited for 4 year olds, and I want it in TRIANGLES.

Every time I think I’m hungry again, all I have to do is look down at my whole wheat healthiness and poof. I never want to eat again. I have an overwhelming feeling today that I’ve failed Mrs. Bairds.

gender misappropriations

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I’m wearing a collared, button-up, black and white striped dress shirt today. I am also wearing a gold necklace that I almost never wear except on the mornings that I get overly sentimental. This morning I was feeling over-the-top-sappy about my grandma. I do that sometimes.

As a result of these two decisions, (decision to wear this shirt, decision to wear gold necklace) every time I look downward, I feel like my name should be Manny and I should work for the mafia in NYC, cause HEY. I’M WEARING A MAN SHIRT AND A GOLD CHAIN. Needless to say, I’m not exactly feeling feminine today. This aura of manliness isn’t at all aided by the fact that instead of a cute little camisole for an undershirt, I’m wearing a ratty wife beater. Any minute now I’m going to sprout chest hair and have a crap-ton of blackheads on my greasy Italian face.

i can still procrastinate like nobody’s business.

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Lee Ella and I have been talking about doing this for a long time. RealSimple published this story as a way to encourage people like Lee Ella to maybe throw away that one sock that she’s been hanging on to since seventh grade, cause really, no matter the sentiment assigned to it, it’s just ONE sock.

The article, though I love the idea, was not designed for people like me. People like me throw things away all the time. In fact, I throw too many things away. I’m maybe a little freakish about how neat my desk has to be at work. I clean out my closets with a disturbing frequency. I’m not overly sentimental about things (nevermind all the old stuff I have, but that’s HISTORY, and none of the items of history in my house are ONE SOCK.)

All that to say, when Lee Ella first posted about the idea, I jumped on board. Yeah! I’ll do that with you! Sounds like fun! Weeks later when we finally started the process, I realized–crap. I moved two months ago. I threw away EVERYTHING I OWNED. The plus side is, doing this two months after I moved has helped me understand what it feels like for people who are more cautious about throwing things away. It kinda hurts. I had so search the house high and low. I had to go through drawers that I never look into. I had to comb through bookcases. Without further ado: My 50 things.

The whole pile.

Aerial view.

Some of the contents: A barstool I painted in high school, pots I (tried to make) made in college, two boxes of film (where did it come from?), tote bags, a medieval weapon, one ugly mask, a game that Zack never plays (except that one time, and I never want that to happen again), a box of ‘electronics cords’ that I’ve not used in FOUR YEARS but KEEP MOVING WITH ME for NO REASON.  You know, the usual stuff. Hovering above is my longtime friend and closet staple, the jester costume. Next Halloween, I’m going to have to get a little more creative.

I’m not going to list out all the 50 things, mostly cause it’s not that entertaining, and some cause I don’t want you to get all upset when you realize that the only thing I had left to throw away was the domahickey that you gave me for Christmas three years ago and HOW COULD I? Sorry. It was for the sake of the clutter. I’m sure you understand.