I have to go to the dentist today, and then deliver materials for work — hopefully dazzling all of the recipients with my sparkling teeth — so this will be quick because I should be showering. And flossing.

Yesterday the weather was horrid. Gray, windy, cold. On my way home from work last night I could barely see the road in front of me through the rain. I never considered myself someone who was affected by the weather. Growing up in Arizona, there was no such thing as the winter blues. Imagine my surprise to discover how my mood shifts with the clouds.

I needed something yesterday afternoon to lift my spirits, and I didn’t have time for staring at Ryan Gosling, so I turned to my music and played this sucker as loud as I could. And it worked. Turn it up — it only works when the bass moves your hair.

I did a terrible job this week! I plugged in my phone expecting a glut of pictures, and there were three. Pathetic.

Wednesday. Morning hair. You’re welcome.

Wednesday afternoon. Reading Sly the Sleuth on the drive home from school. (And I think you can see a peek of the White Sox park out the back window.)

Sunday we had friends over for lunch and I made this (ZOMG soooo good) and accomplished my finest onion dice to date.

Want to play? Load up pictures you took this week and link to your post in the comments!

I think this dress and these shoes would be the perfect work outfit.

{sources || dress: ModCloth || shoes: Ruche, and sadly not available any longer}

Our next house will have a dedicated library, with a comfy chair for reading. Over the chair I would hang this mobile, and keep all of my knickknacks in the card catalog.

{sources || mobile: Shophouse, via Making it Lovely || cabinet: Target. Yes, really.}

And of course, we all need a little cute.

{source: seen on Jezebel}

I haven’t been running.

I’ve been drinking too much coffee.

I read a lot of books. I stopped reading a lot of books.

And I listened to this band on repeat.

{Google Reader folks: click on over for the video.}

friday

On Friday, I took the train to meet Fred and friends for dinner. The waiter/bartender did not know how to make a sidecar, and I neglected to explain proportions, and somehow he confused brandy with whisky. It was potent. Also, it was not a sidecar.

sunday morning

Sunday was the warmest day we’ve had all year, and while Fred and Emma went to the park, I took my book and iced coffee to the lawn.

later sunday morning

Upon their return, Emma joined me but demanded shade. It was getting a little warm.

sunday afternoon

After lunch, Fred and Emma washed the car, which necessitated a wardrobe change and demonstration of strength.

later sunday afternoon

While the car was being washed, I took a picture of the umbrella in my hair (which looks precariously balanced), the remnants of our afternoon mai tais. (Emma also got an umbrella in her juice, because c’mon. EVERYONE deserves umbrellas in their drinks.)

monday morning

To herald spring’s arrival, I decided to wear a skirt. It happens so rarely I felt I needed to document the occasion.

What pictures did you take this week?

In honor of my run, I’m sharing today’s playlist. It’s my belief that a running playlist should make you want to keep running, should help you get lost in the music and in your thoughts, and your legs just keep moving. Each song on my playlist made me smile when it started. That’s an awesome feeling to have — smiling WHILE exercising.

Originally, I was going to pick my favorite from this list, but I couldn’t. I don’t have a favorite. I like them all. So instead I’ll give you the song that made me smile the biggest when I heard it start.

{Google Reader folks: click through for the video}

October 2, 2007: junkie alert

I think I am a victim of Rebound Headaches.

Do you know what these are?

It’s, like, when you have a really bad headache, and after a while, the headache is like, “Let’s not go out with your friends because, and I know I probably should have told you this a long time ago, but I really hate your friends.”

And you say to your headache, “Well, screw you, bub. Your friends are freeloaders who forget to shower. And also? Why don’t you ever tell me you love me anymore?”

To which your headache responds, “Because all you ever fucking do is nag me. I can’t stand the sound of your voice anymore.”

And you cry, and your headache reaches out its hand and you shrug it away. Through your tears, you sputter, “I don’t think we should be together anymore,” and reach for the giant bottle of ibuprofen that you bought at Costco because you are ALWAYS getting yourself into bad headaches.

And then, 20 minutes later, you are fine. No more bad headache. You are FREE.

Until the next day, having forgotten all the mistakes you’ve made in the past, you see a potential headache and instead of turning around. Walking away. Having some pride in yourself. You walk right to it. And think if you love it enough, you can change it.

An hour later you’re reaching for the ibuprofen.

In all seriousness, this is apparently a real (so says WebMD) condition. And it says to get them to stop (I’ve had a headache, oh, 12 out of the last 14 days) you need to see a headache specialist to monitor your withdrawal when you cut out the pain pills. And the caffeine.

Which means I should probably call my doctor.

Crap.

Ready for a peek at the new blog?

peek!

I’m sure it’ll look totally different by the time it launches. I already want a new color scheme.

I work two nights a week so on the nights I’m home and making dinner, I need music. Really, I need music all the time and if I could launch a campaign to support music in the library I would. It’s too quiet in there. Sheesh.

Emma loves to dance, and her big thing lately is Dance Parade! where she (must) lead and Fred and I follow, dancing through the house with quick breaks to catch our breath. Because we’re old. Here’s what made our parade move this week:

I’m obsessed with food. My Google Reader feed has too many food blogs to count. I grill friends and acquaintances about the latest restaurants they’ve been to and what they had and tell me again about the food! I love to eat. I love to cook. I love to think about eating and cooking. When I can’t sleep, my version of sheep-counting is to imagine I’m kneading dough. Works every time. But I hate — H.A.T.E. — the moment right around 4:30 when I start wondering “What do we have for dinner?” I’ve read countless articles and posts that all say the same thing, the same very thing I’m going to tell you today, and I’ve always thought, Wow. Great idea. I should do that. And then I go clip my nails or feed my cat or pass out in an alley and it never happens.

Until this week. (This is the part where you say dun dun DUN. C’mon, say it. SAY IT.)

Last weekend I put this together:

A binder. With recipes. All organized and shit. With little tabs and subcategories and all sorts of nonsense. On Sunday, with this binder and some new cookbooks, I spent half an hour deciding what to make for dinner every night this week. Yes, even Friday. And then I went through and made a list of all the ingredients required. Yes, all of them. Then I shopped my house. My pantry, my cupboards, my refrigerator and freezer, and crossed off what we already had. What remained of my list I took to the store.

We followed the menu every night. I had all of the ingredients I needed. We tried new recipes and ooh’ed and ahh’ed. We proclaimed winners and losers. And I realized that removing a single question — What’s for dinner? — had eliminated such a tremendous amount of BLERGH from my week. Not only that, but buying only what we needed for the planned meals, plus a few extra staples, reduced my grocery bill for the week by $100, easy.

I’m not suggesting everyone make a recipe binder. I have zero short-term memory so I need something like this. But I AM suggesting that if thinking about what to make for dinner drives you batshit insane, take 30 minutes this Sunday to figure out what to feed yourself and any other persons residing in your house. And then stick to it. The crazy will thank you.

Okay, not really. But some people voted and the winner was…

Choice 4!

So now I have to ask one for one more teeny tiny favor: will you vote for my picture? Tell your friends, neighbors, random strangers on the street. If my picture is one of 10 with the most likes, it goes before a panel of judges.

You have to like Modern Bird Studios in order to like my photo, but they’re awesome folks and totally won’t clutter up your FB feed.

Ready? Set? VOTE!