We’re heading back to DC this weekend to see my friend Kris’ new baby (lucky! She’s done being pregnant and has a healthy baby boy!) and catch up with friends. Of course, while we’re in town, we have a packed itinerary of doing all the things we can’t do in Delaware.
The first order of business for me is getting my hair highlighted. With a month until this baby arrives, I can’t risk labor and delivery pictures with roots as black as night. Then Grey, Ollie, and I plan to stuff our faces with Peking Gourmet until we all look like walking egg rolls. And hopefully, if there’s time, I’ll be able to fit in a quick pedi, a trip to buy some new eyeshadow, and a quick browse at one of the many preppy little shops selling seersucker bloomers and bonnets for babies.
Should be a fun weekend as long as I don’t accidentally have a baby while visiting!!!
Oh and, uh, PS, thanks for the monuments and being the Nation's Capital and stuff.
Well, it’s decided. One day I have to be filthy rich so I can own a Hinckley yacht. A DS42 to be specific. I can’t think of any other way I’d rather spend $1 million dollars. Yes, charity would be nice, but if I was being strictly selfish (which I probably would be if I had a million bucks), I’d immediately go out a buy one of these amazing sailboats. Expensive clothes, purses, and cars? Eh, I’d still probably wear t-shirts from Target, but this boat, well, it would be first on my list to buy.
On Thursday we went to the Annapolis Boat Show and as soon as I stepped foot on the Hinckley DS42, every other yacht in the show immediately looked like a floating hunk of trash to me. Literally, this boat is art.
It’s funny because when we moved I noticed that almost every picture in our house is of something related to sailing. Whether it’s a painting of the ocean or a an old schooner or the moon over Lake Erie — all our art seems to revolve around boats and the water. Maybe that’s why I loved the Hinckley so much — it literally is so pretty it could be a picture. I can’t think of any other material possession I’d love to have as much.
Ah, at least now I have some serious motivation to be ambitious!
Ollie and I aboard the DS42. It even accommodated my 8-month prego belly.
My dream boat! I have visions of Grey, Ollie, Baby Turkey and I sailing this boat to Maine every summer. If only everything in life could be so pretty!
As a native of Dreary Erie (AKA the Mistake on the Lake) I love the rain. And I mean LOVE. How could I not? For the first 18 years of my life I’d guess that the weather was overcast with a chance of rain.
Now, as an adult, there’s something about a dark and dreary day that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. It makes me feel at home. That’s why the weather forecast for the next 10 days is perfect. There is supposed to be one sunny day, and that’s Saturday. The rest of the time? Rain! Whoohoo! Looks like I’ll be making a ton of grilled cheese and tomato soup and chocolate chip cookies. Ollie and I can don our matching yellow slickers for long walks in the rain and then head back to the house to drink hot cider. What an amazing start to October!
Living on the Atlantic is a pleasant change from when we lived on the Pacific. In Coronado, every day was perfect; sunny and 70 degrees. It was torture. I felt like I could never go to the movies during the day and I felt incredibly guilty for even thinking about laying on the couch for an afternoon nap. But here, there’s lots of rain! It’s great. The only place better for me would be Seattle. Or of course, Erie!
After I complete a year of Naked Thanks (365 days this November 13th!!), I very well might start another blog called, “Old Dudes of Delaware.” It’d be simple — I’d just take snapshots of the eccentric old men I see, because there are quite a few. Actually, the elderly fellas of my new state are one of my favorite parts of moving here. I feel like living on the movie set of Grumpy Old Men whenever I leave my house. It’s constant entertainment!
Take today for instance, here is what I encountered when Grey and I dropped off some boxes at the recycling center:
It’s an old man with his head completely inside the dumpster, looking for glass bottles and other treasures. In DC, this wouldn’t be a strange sight because homeless people do this all the time. The difference is that this guy, well, he’s dumpster diving purely for fun. In fact, he’s drives a mini van (behind him) and I think he lives a few streets over from us. Apparently, some people golf when they retire, some fish — and some dig through recycling with a custom dumpster hook made especially for reaching the good stuff at the bottom of the barrel.
Then, the other day, I spotted this guy at Lowes:
In case you thought shorty overalls were just for toddlers: they’re not! How amazing is this ensemble? Of course, after taking this pic I immediately posted it on Facebook so the world could enjoy.
I love these guys. They are unknowingly hilarious and they bring a smile to my face. Sometimes they make me nutty by driving 10 mph down the highway or cutting me in line at the deli, but no matter. I’m grateful for the laughs!
I seem to have a slight obsession with cute paper products. Cocktail napkins, holiday greetings, Halloween party invitations, calling cards, birth announcements — basically everything made from a tree besides toilet paper gets me all in a dither. And come to think of it, sometimes I do get excited about toilet paper, but it has to be something like this:
ANYHOO….I love stationary. I just ordered my Halloween party invitations from Tiny Prints (Grey and I decided to have one last bash before the baby arrives; you’re all invited) and I love them. In fact, I love them more than I think is healthy or natural. The only other thing I have the same kind of obsession with is bone china. These are two things that are total non-necessities, but I guess it could be worse, I could be obsessed with cars or expensive art. And, at least I can pass on my random collection of Wedgwood to my granddaughter some day, though I doubt any of my progeny will be eager to take my personalized stash of mommy calling cards.
But really, I’m sure I’ll have used up all my stationary by the time I’m old and gray because there’s just something about a handwritten note or a snail-mailed envelope that appeals to me. Email is nice, and I am certainly addicted to online communication, but as with reading books on a computer versus an actual bound novel, I’d opt for the paper every time. I save all the cards people give me because it’s so nice pulling yellowed notes with things like, “Happy 14th Birthday, YOU FAT MANLY BEEOTCH!! Love, your brother” out of a dusty memento box. If that were in an email, it’d be long since deleted and lost forever.
I even like collecting other people's used paper -- especially when it was mailed from Erie. Here's a postcard from one sister to another sent back when stamps were a penny. They don't say anything funny like, "Mom and dad are crazy hoe-bags! Revolt!" like my brother and I used to write, but I still think it's neat.
**Addendum to this post: Sorry it’s riddled with errors. Â I’d go back and change them, but it’s easier to just apologize for my misspellings than correct. Â And hey, just wanted to keep you on your toes! Â Stationary VERSUS stationery – TRICKY!
Thursday is what Grey and I like to call, “Trashmas Eve.” Actually, we stole the term from our friends Ingrid and Jud, who gave this catchy little nickname to the night before garbage day. And since tonight is this week’s Trashmas Eve, I thought it fitting for me to give a nod to the men that haul away my refuse every week, rain or shine.
Last week, I think our garbage men were trying to send us a message. Just like every Trashmas Eve since we moved here, Grey stuck out our ratty old garbage cans filled to the brim with junk. However, the following day, as he went to retrieve the cans, he realized they were nowhere to be found. There was a lid in our driveway, but nothing else. Did they blow into a neighbor’s yard? Nope. Did the waste management folks put them away for us? Nope. In fact, what we came to realize is, they threw them away. Yep. Instead of emptying the contents of the can and putting the receptacle back on the curb, the garbage men just chucked the entire thing (two cans in fact!) into the dump truck and peaced out with the whole kit and caboodle.
I’ll admit, our cans were looking a little worse for the wear. We didn’t actually buy them new, but I believe we instead just stole a few extra from Grey’s parents’ house. We’re ghetto like that and, even though we’re 33 and 32, still feel the need to mooch off our parents for random items like trash cans.
But however much I appreciate our diligent garbage men, I kind of wonder if these small town trash collectors are just a tad judgmental. I mean, isn’t it my decision to decide when we buy a new waste bin? Apparently not. However, I can’t complain because I am genuinely grateful for their hard work. Having a toddler gives us some seriously nasty trash. The food waste alone is utterly disgusting. So, whether our trash men stole my cans or not, I salute them.
Ah, summer is over! Not officially, I know it’s not September 23rd yet, but for all intents and purposes. The kids are back at school, the tourists are gone, the weather is cooling off (well, sort of), and Funland is closing up shop! So SAD.
To enjoy the last hurrah of Summer’s Bounty, this past weekend while Kris and Craig were visiting, we took Ollie and their daughter, Emmeline, to Funland in Rehoboth Beach. The babies had a blast riding all the kiddie rides and getting jacked up on boardwalk delicacies like funnel cake and cotton candy while the four of us adults had enough people-watching to make a trip to Wal-Mart or the Circus seem boring. My only beef with the amusement park was that they didn’t let me go on the kiddie motorcycle ride with Ollie because, as an adult, I was “too big.” Nevermind they had a two ton ten-year-old denting the bikes with his giant ass right before I requested to ride (no joke this porker must have weighed in at 250), but I guess rules are rules.
So alas, now that it’s September, we’ll have to wait until next season to head back to Funland. And by that time, Ollie’s obsession with the Super “F*cks” will most likely have waned, or at the very least, he’ll be pronouncing the TR-sound in their name by then, which for some reason makes me sad to think about.
Though I love fall, it’s always hard to see summer go….
My favorite activity at Funland is the Super "F*cks" because it's the one ride adults can go on with their children. It brings out the inner trucker in me, which is surprisingly enjoyable. BYE BYE, SUMMER!
I have never been an organized person. In high school, I my friends said I was always just a “shit-storm of papers and crap” and called me Pig Pen. I remember turning in my math homework one time on an Arby’s napkin because I lost all my looseleaf paper. Other times, I’d just be late to class because I misplaced the gum wrapper I wrote my locker combination so I’d be stranded without all my books.
Now, as a 32-year-old, sadly, I haven’t gotten much better. It always seems like the papers I need (important stuff like social security cards, birth certificates, and car registrations) are never around when I need them, but will turn up when I’m doing things like cleaning out the canned good cabinet or hauling out my winter sweaters. Seriously, for months I couldn’t find my driver’s license and then I finally found it: stuffed in a BIBLE. What? I can’t even begin to understand my rationale for that one. Whereas when I was a kid, my school backpack was catch-all for all my junk, now my purse is a grab-bag of eclectism. Too bad Let’s Make a Deal isn’t on because I would have KILLED at “What’s in your Purse?”
So the one thing that keeps me relatively sane are my To-Do lists. They are the one piece of order I can muster in my chaotic, unorganized existence. In fact, I love putting things on the list just so I can check them off. I feel empowered and responsible when I cross off such items like “buy toilet paper” and “nap.” Truly, they are the only thing that keep my life even somewhat settled. For this I am very grateful!
Annoyingly enough, I got a speeding ticket in the mail yesterday. It’s from the District, where it seems they have automated photo enforcement cameras on every street corner and highway underpass. Of course, I was pissed when I opened the mail and got the fine (135 bucks –EW, RUDE, DC!), HOWEVER, as this is my first ticket ever in our Nation’s capital (except parking tickets), so I do admit it was about time.
I think, part of the reason why I never got a photo-enforcement ticket in the five years I lived as a Washingtonian (or NoVa resident) was due to the fact that I had PhotoBlocker — a clear glaze that blurs the numbers of your license plate when the flash hits it — sprayed on my plates. My little brother got me this genius product for my birthday when we moved back to the East Coast. For those of you that don’t know him, this is a very typical Ian-gift. Whereas other people may gift items like a new shirt or maybe a gift certificate, Ian gives the people he loves items like realistic-looking voodoo dolls, signs that read: DINGO CROSSING, and books titled, Thank God I Had a Gun: True Accounts of Self Defense.
So, like I was saying, I think PhotoBlocker is the reason that in five years of driving around DC, I never once got caught by a speed camera. Or, more accurately, I got caught by speed cameras (how can you miss that flashing!), but I never once got a ticket in the mail from them until now. I’m sure, after all this time, the glaze simply wore off and that’s why I was busted. Ironic, to get the ticket only now that I’ve moved out of the area, but isn’t that how things usually work? Oh well, I guess it’s just time to order another can!
Genius!!!
Other than PhotoBlocker, this book may be another one of my all time favorite Ian-gifts. The little boy crouching in fear on the bed is a nice touch to the cover art, no? Since tomorrow is my birthday, I'm guessing Ian will get me yet another amazing present!
Can you believe it’s the end of August already? Where did the summer go? If I was still an English teacher, I’d probably be starting school tomorrow and having the worst case of Sunday Blues imaginable. Luckily, I’m not working full time anymore, but I still think there’s something bittersweet about the end of August. Kids go back to school, football games start up again, and the weather chills — something I was reminded about last night as we watched the Ravens/Skins game.
There’s something about football season that I love. Oddly, the actual football has nothing to do with it. I still couldn’t tell you how much a down is worth or who the quarterback is for the Chargers (didn’t he date Jessica Simpson?). However, I love all the things that come along WITH football being back in the stadiums and on TV. I’m reminded of all of fall’s bounty — things like apple-picking, turning leaves, cornucopias, and tailgates where you binge eat hot wings and Bud Lite until you barf in a nasty Port-o-Potty. This IS autumn to me.
This year, I am really really really looking forward to fall. Not only will I finally be able to stop sweating my ass off every time I step outside of the realm of air conditioning, but I’ll also be able to meet this little baby I’ve been brewing for the last 6.5 months. Not that I wish summer to be over right this second; I’m still anticipating many more pool and beach days, but I gotta say, being pregnant, this hot weather has been killing me. Bikini season and 90+ degree weather every day is not fun when you’re toting around a basketball in your stomach and your thighs look like Sequoia trees.
Plus, in just a few weeks, all the tourists will be gone and we’ll get to experience our little Delaware beach town for what it’s like the majority of the year. I’ve heard the streets empty out and the locals once again resume control of the restaurants and the shops. There’s a lot to look forward to this year!
I especially like these stormy-looking fall days by the water! This is in Erie last autumn...I can just imagine the chill in the air! AH -- to finally not have sweat coming out every pore of my body! CAN'T WAIT!
And tailgating!!! Can't wait to cheer on Navy and Penn State this season!!!
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