A Dapple of My Weekend

Okay, so these pictures did not all come from this weekend. Clearly, I suck at taking pictures every minute of the day (who doesn't?) and by the time Sunday night rolled around, it was too late and tried to save myself by taking countless photos of Stella. But who doesn't like photos of kitties?

Thursday I took the kids to the park, so that's where those pictures came from. We've named the swans Lucy and Philip, and imagine stories of their marriage and life together as a couple and think about where their babies could be (swans, after all, do mate for life). Lucy and Philip have become highlights of our weeks.

Stella and Taz (my brother's cat) are slowly becoming friends. Stella still hisses at him, like the old woman she is, when he tries to attack her. But he's just playing. Secretly, she loves it. If she was really sick of him, she'd walk away. But she sits there and takes it. Stella loves Taz. She just won't admit it.

My weekend didn't consist of much. Actually, it consisted mostly of sitting with my phone waiting for a call from Good Shepherd Volunteers. Yes, I gave that much away of my Great Big Secret. Perhaps I'm dragging this out. But I really can't reveal anything on here without knowing myself, first. Today is Decision Making Day, do not fret.

This weekend, I also went out on the town with Abby Friday night. I brought my camera and actually meant to take pictures, but all I ended up with was a picture of the pretty black-and-white tiled floor in the dark bathroom stall at 1am. It may have been gross. And slightly inappropriate to take photos in the bathroom of a bar. But it was a pretty floor. Unfortunately, it didn't come out light enough to be blog-worthy. I'm sure you can imagine.

Other than Friday night and waiting by phone, my weekend involved a whole lot of reading. Yes, reading. Have you seen previews for The Time Traveler's Wife? I'll have to post the trailer on here. The English major in me always wants to read the book before the movie (which in most cases proves to be the better choice, except in Nicholas Sparks' case--I detest his novels, but love the movies). So, I have NOT BEEN ABLE TO PUT DOWN THIS BOOK. It's really great. And it's Audrey Niffenegger's first novel. No joke. The woman is a genius. I would highly suggest it.



I'm itching to know--what'd you do this weekend?


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Wanderlust

I am experiencing some pretty intense

wanderlust

right now.

More to follow on this

topsy-turvy Monday morning

of my life . . .

(Photo via Samara York)

(Love her photos!)

Ray, here I come

Ray is just getting too popular. Too many other people are being won over by his good looks, his moving music, his crack habits, his emotional instability . . .

Wait, no, I do like him. I love him.

That's why I was at my computer by 9:45 Monday morning waiting for the ticket site to become available at 10 o'clock so I could order tickets for his fall show via the presale (cause I'm in the fan club and get regular emails, I know, I know). So you can imagine how surprised I was when, as soon as it turned from 9:59 to 10:00, I clicked right in and went to purchase my tickets for Boston on November 4th (MY BIRTHDAY I KNOW IT WAS MEANT TO BE) and it wouldn't let me get any. I kept trying, and trying, and trying. It kept saying silly things like I had selected too many tickets or some garbage like that. By the time I emailed the ticketmaster and went back on at 11am, it was sold out.

I later got an email saying that the presale had sold out IN ONE MINUTE.

Needless to say, I was devastated and thoroughly irritated. How am I going to have his babies if I can't even get to his show? (Stop. This is a joke.)

By Friday night, I was set on getting on my computer well before 10am the next morning so I could at least try my chances at getting tickets for the general public. (General public? Me? I was insulted. Perhaps they don't understand how die-hard of a fan I am . . .)

Saturday, I was babysitting. Which really means quelling fights and calming down hysterical five-year-olds and saying no to multiple glasses of chocolate milk at 9am and reminding about teeth brushing ten thousand times until it was actually done and constantly asking, "Did you really take off your glasses again? GO GET THEM." Horrifyingly, I forgot about poor Ray.

At 9pm last night, I remembered with a jolt. My mind went a mile a minute with thoughts of despair and grief and giving-up-edness. I thought I'd never get them.

By the time I found the ticket site (different the presale site, so it took me even longer), Boston was sold out. New York only had single seats available in places like "Upper Left Balcony Row YYY seat 2045." In other words, "You can pay $80 and sit here and listen to the music even though you'll only see half of Ray LaMontagne's profile the size of a flea and probably be suffocated with the smell oozing from the bathroom directly behind you. If you want."

I was not sold.

I then noticed a show in Upper Darby, Pennsylvania on November 7th. I Google Mapped it and realized it was only 13.5 miles from Jana. We could do this.

Even though she didn't answer her phone, I bought them anyway. If she couldn't go, I would just go by myself and invite a stranger off the street to join me, free of charge. I WAS GOING TO SEE THIS MAN.

In the end, Jana called me back. She wanted to go. Which is good, seeing as how I had already bought the tickets. We decided to make a weekend of it. I'm so excited.

Ray, here I come.

(Photo via The Couch Sessions)

Nothing yet.

My stomach hurts. Uncontrollably, at all hours of the day. I even find myself waking up in the night to it. Don't you think I'd relax while I'm unconscious?

I haven't been hungry. If you know me, you know this is strange. When I do eat, it all tastes the same. Tonight I had corn on the cob, rice, and steak. My mom's cooking is great. It all tasted the same.

I had to babysit today. For the same kids I babysit for four days out of the week. It was like an extended work week. My only solace of knowing that I'd be busy from eight-thirty to five again was that I'd be busy. And maybe I could keep my mind off it.

I've been holding my phone since I woke up this morning. In my hand. If I really need that hand, I put it into my pocket, and promptly turn it to vibrate. When my mom called, I practically shit my pants in anticipation until I saw "Home" show up on the screen.

Nothing yet.


However, looking at beautiful blogs like The Feather Circus is nicely distracting. Just look how gorgeous her photos are.

Jumpstart

Watch this movie trailer, and jumpstart your Friday:



I can't wait.

Another non-post

This may or may not be another word-vomit post.


This weekend may or may not hold very good news for me.

I may or may not be waiting for this news until Sunday night.

After this weekend, I may or may not embrace whatever news I have.

Come Monday, I may or may not be an emotional wreck. Even though I will be PMS-free.

Next week, I may or may not be freaking out. And I don't use this term lightly. I mean freaking out.

Next weekend, you may or may not have to question whether I am still sane enough to consider writing this blog.


However,

After this weekend, I will have news.

Come Monday, I will be in some sort of agitated emotional state, whether positive or not-so-positive.

Next week, let's just face it--I will be an emotional wreck either way.



You know those life coaches people talk about? I need one. To tell me what to do. Because come this weekend, I'm going to need to do something.

Good Lord.


(Photo via ThroughTheHeartOfAPhotographer. I like it because it's called "Flight or Fight.")

This Post Brought to You by: Coffee

Caution: Proceed through this post at your own risk. Lack of sleep, PMS, and irritable children have caused me to turn religiously to coffee as a means of getting me through the morning. This post is, right now, my outlet. So I'm apologizing in advance. Don't say I didn't warn you . . .

Maybe it's the full moon. Maybe it's because it's hump day. I don't know. I just need massive amounts of coffee, and then some. Plus shopping sprees and fruit pies and a new iPod/phone and a job with benefits. But I don't have those things. I just have the coffee. It'll have to do, for now.

GeorgeLittle said to me just a few minutes ago, "Ruthie, 'member that time we went to Starbucks and you got the coffee that was double as strong and had too much caffeine? Why'd you do that? Wasn't it making your heart go 'puh FOOM puh FOOM puh FOOM?'"

I could also use a trip back to South Africa. That picture is from April of 2008 when we went on a full moon hike up Lion's Head in Cape Town. Granted, it was an extremely difficult hike (read: climbing ladders and chains up cliffs) and we failed to consider that once we hiked up and saw the sun set we'd then have to hike down in the ever-increasing darkness, it was still amazing. There's another full moon tonight, and it made me think of that day over a year ago. Where does the time go?



Now I'm here, living at home, friends dispersed, nannying for the neighbors and still trying to figure out my post-graduation plans. I guess I'm just still grappling with it. It's almost been three months! I can't help but think that if I were in elementary or high school, my summer would be over already.

What now? I know that I haven't just sat around and twiddled my thumbs since high school graduation, but it gets hard to hear about all the great things other people are doing with their lives while I sit next door and take little children to science museums (no offense to said little children).

I just need a strong drink. Pronto. Is it only 10:30am?

I was recently reading a good blog and found out about The Happiness Project. Once I get some spare time to really read it, I'm going to start using The Happiness Project Toolbox, which also looks pretty cool. Does it make someone sound dumb to say they're using a Happiness Toolbox on the internet? Probably. Do I care? No. (Okay, well, maybe a little.) But I'm doing it anyway.

God must be belly laughing right now because I have to run--the kids just innocently walked in from the deck with Nutella all over their shirts that they ate OUT OF THE RECYCLING BIN. I guess they don't realize that PMS is rearing its ugly head today.

I don't think I've ever asked this but . . . when is summer over again?

Oh the Places We Go

Science museum? Check.


(Also: note MH's striped skirt. I think I'll call it "Helen.")

Monday Morning Kick in the Pants

(Photo via manysmallguesses, via my creative fling [I seriously look forward to Monday mornings just so I can see what her next Kick in the Pants will be! You should really check her out.])

A Dapple of My Weekend

This weekend definitely beat last weekend. I still didn't take as many pictures as I'd hoped. I think I really need to start working on that. Sometimes I just feel so silly though, whipping out my camera at the most inopportune times, even if it's a really great moment. Sometimes the greatest moments are ones that normal people don't think to capture.

My weekend was full of storms and rainbows, Chinese food and beer, swimming at Bigelow Hollow, family parties by the pool, a night out with Rachel and good friends, nursing my night out the morning after, cleaning (like usual), preparing for yet another phone interview (yikes! fingers crossed!), shucking corn*, cooking dinner and dessert for everyone and crashing into bed way too early Sunday night.

Rachel's still here, but she flies home tonight. Tomorrow I'll wake up and life will be back to normal and I'll be missing her all over again.

But on the plus side, only three more weeks till our super fabulous beachy beach vacation!

How was your weekend?

*I could say that since I haven't really shucked corn since I was little, it was wonderfully reminiscent. I could say that sitting outside listening to the pitter-patter of falling raindrops amidst the heat and silence was actually very calming and it gave me time to be with my own thoughts. I could say that shucking corn really isn't as terrible as I remember and that I actually kind of like it. But that would be lying to the extreme. It's just as terrible as I remember it.

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