"Chunk" from THE GOONIES grew up to be this guy. How random and great is that?!
1. We have this really tall, spreading tree in our backyard. It’s close to the house which means it helps reduce heat during the super-hot summers, plus it shades a large area of the yard. Most of the time, the tree has fringed green leaves that are fine but won’t make you look twice. However, once a year, the tree erupts in a blaze of glory. It produces explosions of pink feathery flowers like thousands of tiny fireworks displays. It’s breath-taking.
Also, the gorgeous fireworks last about 12 seconds before the feathery flowers turn brown and go limp and drop off. They fall EVERYWHERE. They cling to the stucco and the grass and the bushes. Kids and dogs track them into the house. It’s a giant withering mess and our yard looks like an open mass gravesite for dead baby gerbils.
That’s what we’re about to enter, people. Dead Baby Gerbil Season. It pre-dates summer around here.
2. Allow me to preface by saying this: zombies are my least favorite of the paranormal. They’re not interesting or sexy or charming. They don’t make witty comments right before they slay you, nor do you secretly wish to sleep with one. They look gross, they mill about, and I’m pretty sure they smell bad.
So.
I recently started running.* By “running,” I of course mean “mostly walking but with short bursts of running.” I use no less than THREE iPhone apps during my runs, because apparently I require this combo of technology to motivate myself. In case you are interested, the apps are as follows:
- GET RUNNING, in which a British woman tells you when to start and stop your interval training.
- MAPMYRUN, in which you can proudly (or not so proudly) see how far you have run (walked) each day.
- ITUNES, because—duh.
This whole running nonsense all started because of the impending zombie apocalypse. See, on October 20th, there’s this absurd-yet-awesome zombie 5K run happening near San Diego, and a bunch of my friends have signed up. You get a handful of flags attached to your clothing and start off through an obstacle course of mud and walls and water. Along the way, you are CHASED BY ZOMBIES. If you arrive at the end with at least one of your flags still on your body, you’re “alive.”
It couldn’t be more ridiculous or geeky, and yet I think I’m going to do it… which means that I’d better figure out how to run a 5K before October. Hence, the three apps.
3. I’ve posted before about my fantasy life in which I know how to garden. See, the fantasy always involves me fully made up, wearing some sort of wide-brimmed hat, and clipping huge, perfect roses (which, in fantasy life, I know how to attractively arrange). In real life—as evidenced this weekend—I get sunburnt while yanking weeds out of the front yard ground cover, and then a giant grasshopper scares the living hell out of me and I go inside.
4. We have a new addition to our family. Vampire the tadpole, so named because his underside is pale. Apparently my children believe that vampires have pale undersides.
Vampire has a new, lockable habitat and so will hopefully not meet the same fate as our tadpole from last summer who grew into Purplehead the frog. Purplehead (whose head, incidentally, was not purple) somehow escaped his home—which was a goldfish bowl covered in netting—and was never seen again. In related news, on the day of Purplehead’s escape, we were babysitting the neighbor’s dog… which threw up on the floor. My husband claims to have carefully inspected the dog vomit and found no trace of the ill-fated Purplehead (I may or not have been audibly gagging in another room while this was happening). I suspect that someday we will move a piece of furniture and discover Purplehead’s desiccated body. For the sake of us all, I sincerely hope it is my husband who makes this discovery.
5. This past month, I tried a couple new (to me) things. One was a Renaissance Fair and the other was gay country line dancing. I know a lot of people love it, but the Ren Fair just wasn’t my thing. Maybe it’s because my boobs aren’t big enough to hoist up to my chin like some of the ladies. Maybe it’s because I may or may not have injured my shoulder while throwing an axe. Maybe it’s because the audible gag was triggered in a major way in the port-a-potties.
Yes, it was fun to watch the campy jousting performance and to see the guy with a falcon, and I did like eavesdropping on the workers’ conversations (because what a crazy job is that!), but it was maybe a zillion degrees and lines were long and patience was short. We were all covered in fake medieval dust by the time we came home.
However, gay country line dancing = my new favorite thing in all the land. Who’s in for Thursday night?
Have you tried anything new lately?
* Yes, I know I don’t need to lose weight. Skinny people need to get in shape, too.
