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more cowbell ... or gingerbread lattes. I'm flexible.

2005-11-04 - 3:13 p.m.

OK. If you'd all check out the guestbook for a minute....

Welcome back. What the hell?? Although this site is not egregious, it is certainly no beauty. So what's up with all the comment spam complimenting my wonderful site? It's highly bizarre.

Anyhoo, here I am again. It's been a long strange trip, but I'm out here on the flip side.

Towards the beginning of October, I got into yoga. I loved it--perhaps a bit too much. In a classic case of weekend warrior syndrome, I hurt my back a bit. Not much, just a bit. Then I cleaned my house top to bottom for my family. Then I lifted lots of heavy boxes. Then I got a hideous shooting pain in my hip and back, running down my leg. Yes, sciatica. It was truly the most excruciating pain I've ever experienced. I could barely hobble. Regardless, much aspirin and ice and bed rest later, I am nearly back to normal. Which is good, because I'm getting greedy to get into my garden. I need to plant the 40 or so bulbs I've acquired (daffodils and crocus, in case you were wondering), clean up some weeds and dead pine needles, yank out some plants (including the tomatoes--I really think they've gone past their prime at this point), and just generally clean up out there. It's been almost a month since I've done any gardening at all. It is one of the few normal joys I have in life.

A highly abnormal joy is regaling my husband with tales of phone calls the cat has supposedly made that day. Yesterday, on the drive home from work, I informed him that I had received two phone calls from the cat. The first consisted of a lot of angry meowsing, upon which I informed her that if she could not keep a civil tongue in her head I would be left with no choice but to hang up. The second call contained an apology and the vital information that she had not been fed that morning, and was in fact starving to death. When I got home, would I please fill her food bowl up to the brim? Knowing that she had in fact been fed before we left for work, I negotiated down to feeding her the normal amount as soon as we arrived home and giving her some processed deli turkey. R was laughing so hard he couldn't speak, upon which I was struck with a sudden and profound realization: We are sad, sad, sad people. Making up phone calls from the cat! Thank god we're married, because no one else would have us.

My family visited in October, which was wonderful. It's amazing to see how much my niece has grown. I wish we could see her more often. Regardless, she was adorable. We went off to Cox Farms Fall Festival, which was so much more fun with baby M than it would have been with just R and myself. We also took them to the Natural History Museum, the WWII Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, and finally, to sit in Einstein's lap. All our visitors wind up getting a photo in Einstein's lap. It has become a M--- tradition. Oh frabjuous day!

Next on the list is Thanksgiving. Menu planning has begun, although I am still deciding between apple onion gratin and a squash dish. I think I need to make a nod to the squash dish. I need to figure out what kind of stuffing I'm making, and whether I'm doing some sort of green bean casserole or just steamed beans, which are lovely as well. I'm getting highly excited about pulling out my good china and doing my first big holiday dinner. My sister-in-law B is coming out, which will be grand. Then it's time to get ready for Christmas/Chanukah. I love the holiday season. Today I sold a little bit of my soul in order to drink my first Starbuck's gingerbread latte of the year. For all my talk about being all hippie and anti-big corporate stores that kill mom-and-pops, I'm addicted to the gingerbread latte. I'm a bad, bad girl. To paraphrase, I have a fever and the only prescription is more gingerbread latte. Today, after taking the first sip, I actually heard myself say "Oh GOD! That's the good stuff." See above re: cat phone conversations. I am dork, and I embrace my people. Second cousin to the geek, we now rule the world. Suck it up, cheerleaders. Suck it up.

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