Vacation part deux
So I'm back at work, or least the work interval in my 12-day vacation.
And... I don't have anything else to do right now here at Ye Olde Jobbe. Well, that's not true... I have one pro bono trifold brochure we're doing for a client, but I kicked that into proofing and am now in a holding pattern.
It was a great week off. I had a great time getting my inner Martha Stewart on and tackled an assload of projects. They weren't the projects I thought I'd be doing, but I know I'd better go where inspiration strikes. I mean, I went to the shed to get something, and it was so hard pulling something out of that abyss of junk that I snapped and yanked everything outside. I mean, when else in the coming months would I want to work inside a metal box, which is essentially what that thing is? And miracle of miracles, right when I started tossing stuff, H showed up to get something so I was able to haul his butt out there and help me cull out the crap. So... not what I intended, but I got a gross job out of the way.
Besides the shed, I cleaned out the laundry room, the closet and wardrobe in my soon-to-be-roommate's room, the carport and the deck. Finished mulching. Repotted some plants. Ran errands. Went to the dermatologist (where I had a potentially problematic mole cut off yet again) and took Sammy to the vet (still no luck catching Max — that boy has radar, and knew I was up to something immediately. Sigh.)
I didn't do much social, but what I did was great. Went to a nice dinner for a former co-worker's birthday, and invited a few friends back to the house for drinks.
Also took some reading-on-the-couch time, which is just the best. Did spend too much time on the internet: I should only care about Britney while wasting time at work, not when I could be out and about. Which, sorry, but I have to say: all those idiotic moms defending our dear Brit should see the whole series of pics: the unhemmed pants past her heels, the highball glass that she doesn't spill while dropping her child. I mean, if you trip and start to fall, wouldn't you drop the glass and grab the kid? It looks to me like she was more careful with the glass.
/rant over/
In more pop culture news. Alias is over. I'm sad, but not. I'm really bummed that yet another show has amnesia on most plot points (the X-Files-factor). Which, by the way? Those of you asking me why I don't watch Lost, well, that's your answer. I don't trust series with mythologies any more.
The series finale WAS satisfying if you think less and drink more. I do have to say, SpyDaddy's last (sob!) words were awesome: "You beat death, Arvin, but you couldn't beat me." And Sloan's fate was deliciously deserved. And Vaughn's reaction to baby Isabelle's little snore was the cutest damn thing ever. LOVE him.
Oooh, gotta go to some weird staff thing. Some nerve, interrupting my blog time.
And... I don't have anything else to do right now here at Ye Olde Jobbe. Well, that's not true... I have one pro bono trifold brochure we're doing for a client, but I kicked that into proofing and am now in a holding pattern.
It was a great week off. I had a great time getting my inner Martha Stewart on and tackled an assload of projects. They weren't the projects I thought I'd be doing, but I know I'd better go where inspiration strikes. I mean, I went to the shed to get something, and it was so hard pulling something out of that abyss of junk that I snapped and yanked everything outside. I mean, when else in the coming months would I want to work inside a metal box, which is essentially what that thing is? And miracle of miracles, right when I started tossing stuff, H showed up to get something so I was able to haul his butt out there and help me cull out the crap. So... not what I intended, but I got a gross job out of the way.
Besides the shed, I cleaned out the laundry room, the closet and wardrobe in my soon-to-be-roommate's room, the carport and the deck. Finished mulching. Repotted some plants. Ran errands. Went to the dermatologist (where I had a potentially problematic mole cut off yet again) and took Sammy to the vet (still no luck catching Max — that boy has radar, and knew I was up to something immediately. Sigh.)
I didn't do much social, but what I did was great. Went to a nice dinner for a former co-worker's birthday, and invited a few friends back to the house for drinks.
Also took some reading-on-the-couch time, which is just the best. Did spend too much time on the internet: I should only care about Britney while wasting time at work, not when I could be out and about. Which, sorry, but I have to say: all those idiotic moms defending our dear Brit should see the whole series of pics: the unhemmed pants past her heels, the highball glass that she doesn't spill while dropping her child. I mean, if you trip and start to fall, wouldn't you drop the glass and grab the kid? It looks to me like she was more careful with the glass.
/rant over/
In more pop culture news. Alias is over. I'm sad, but not. I'm really bummed that yet another show has amnesia on most plot points (the X-Files-factor). Which, by the way? Those of you asking me why I don't watch Lost, well, that's your answer. I don't trust series with mythologies any more.
The series finale WAS satisfying if you think less and drink more. I do have to say, SpyDaddy's last (sob!) words were awesome: "You beat death, Arvin, but you couldn't beat me." And Sloan's fate was deliciously deserved. And Vaughn's reaction to baby Isabelle's little snore was the cutest damn thing ever. LOVE him.
Oooh, gotta go to some weird staff thing. Some nerve, interrupting my blog time.
posted by reallymadcow at 8:40 AM
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