Man, I loved me some Blue’s Clues.
This post, however, is not about Steve and Blue and Magenta and Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper and Paprika. It is about good old snail mail. Remember that? People actually communicated like that. Used pens and paper and whatnot (emphasis on the h). As a child, it was one of my greatest joys to get the mail.
I grew up living next door to my grandparents. We lived in the country. The COUNTRY. We lived on over an acre and there was a farm around the corner country. Deer grazing at the bottom of the yard country. You get the picture. Oh, no street name or house number country. Just a rural route and a box number. That my parents shared with my grandparents. I can’t remember what year it was when they finally named our road and gave us house numbers, but I remember it being about calling 911 and having emergency personnel be able to find us. Although, truthfully, everyone knew where everyone else lived or gave directions by landmarks. For example, take 981 South until the cemetery on your right. Turn right at said cemetery and go 7/10ths of a mile and look for the house with Christmas lights on the left hand side.
But anywho, the mail. I loved to get the mail in the summer and sometimes during the school year because the mail would sometimes come really late. More often than not, my grandparents would indulge me in my little girl silliness. I was spoiled in my mail watch also. Gram and Pops installed a little yellow flag on a spring that they picked up that, when the door to the mailbox was opened, would pop up to let you know you had mail. So I would look out our front window down to the bottom of the yard to see if the mail had come when I thought I heard the mail truck go by.
After getting the mail, I would go to my grandparents’ house to sort it out. Funny, I almost never went in their front door. I would go around the back because the front door is for visitors. Typically, my grandfather would be sleep watching a soap opera and my grandmother would be sitting at the kitchen table doing a word search. OMG, sidebar.
I would do word searches with my Gram all the time. It’s partially due to her that I have this love of puzzles and word games. Well, one day we’re sitting at the kitchen table doing a word search and I am kinda leaning over her arm. Much to my horror, a dried up booger fell out of my nose and right into the center of the puzzle. Gram never said a word. Brushed the boog onto the floor and circled the next word.
I’d sort the mail out with my grandmother, and then, if I wasn’t going back up to the house right away, I’d put our mail on top of the fridge with part of the envelope sticking out. It was our little yellow flag inside the house.
Jump forward 30-ish years. I still love getting the mail. I love getting mail. Even when it’s junk. I mean, I realize that there’s a waste factor involved. But for me, it’s the difference between having a book in my hand as opposed to my Kindle. Luckily, hubby indulges me in this level of silly also. In the decade and change we’ve been cohabitating, pretty sure I can count on one hand the number of times that he’s gotten the mail if I didn’t specifically ask him to. I am a special star. I know.
How’s about it? Got a quirk you wanna share?
Writing. Writing….is what brings us…togever…..today. Today, on this Monday morning. Where I woke up feeling and looking like I had partied like it was 1999. All I really did was watch my Battling Buccos come from behind (again), take the Cards to extra innings (again) and win it in walk-off fashion (again!!) to win the series and go into the All Star break only 2.5 games behind those dirty birds. And as a sidebar, the Black and Yellow seems to have to battle a lot of dirty birds (Cardinals, Ravens, Tom Brady).
Office life: On this oh so rough morning, all I wanted was to heat up my breakfast sandwich. However, someone chose to break the paper towel dispenser. Rummaging through drawers turned up nothing. So, Macgyver to the rescue, I’ll just use a coffee filter. And then as I typed this, I splashed coffee all over my face. After I threw away my coffee filter napkin and before noticing that someone took my last tissue from my desk and left an empty box. Splashed again. Is it 5 yet? Or even 4:30?
Yesterday wasn’t just the thrilling stress of baseball. It was also the culmination of a couple months of rehearsals and questions and heels and rehearsals and questions and heels(!) also known as the summer recital for L’Ru Studios. For the longest time, I’ve wanted to do some pole-related Cell Block type activities and, with the help of five of my lovely studiomates, I was able to make that dream a reality. There won’t be video for a little while, and when there is, I’ll post it, but I think it went off pretty well. I gave up my Squish role for one of Lipschitz and, I am pretty sure that everyone had a good time. I also played around with a soloroutine to ‘Miserable’ by Lit where I attempted to be sexy. The verdict is still out on that one. The routine was clean and I didn’t blank out on anything though, so I’ll call it a win either way.
Sooo, also of note, we moved. After nearly five years of renting in Westminster, we moved down the road a bit to Arvada. Not because we wanted to, but because the homeowners decided to move back. The major point I’m taking away from this move is that, when we move back to Florida in about 3 years, I am hiring a moving service. No way am I packing up an entire house for a third time. It is just too much.
Moving is such a purging opportunity. My goodness. Between the amount of electronics that we took to Best Buy for free recycling, what we gave to Goodwill when the truck was across the street, and then what we gave them on other trips after more cleaning probably should be a mega tax writeoff, but who really has time for that? Not me. I just wanted it GONE! Just thinking about what else is going to have to go between now and the next move makes me cringe. But you know what doesn’t make me cringe? The thought of having a convertible and being top down a lot of the time in Florida. That’s the thing I’m looking forward to.
The new house is nice. Quite spacious even though we technically downsized from the house we were in. I finally have a place to hang my OmGym and took advantage of that for some long overdue inversion time this morning. My yoga dungeon really and truly is a dungeon now in the unfinished basement of doom. You know, where we keep the smallest tv connected to Directv, lol. The dungeon with windows and AC or heat depending on the season. I guess I’m not painting a very good picture of a dungeon. Well, seeing as how we’ve made it past noon here in the mountains, I suppose it is time to wrap this up. No wonder I slack on writing when it takes me half a day to get one post done. Work getting in the way, as usual. We’ll see if we try this again tomorrow.
Yes, reality. Where I don’t really have the time or energy or interest in writing every day. I’m not going to beat myself up over it though. Life goes on after missing a day or two of not writing.
Even still, after these days, there hasn’t been all that much to talk about. At the end of my rope with one thing or another.
Yeah, so, that’s it. Maybe tomorrow.
Once again, I’ll be trying to post more often. We all know how that goes, however. I start, I’m good for a few days, then I drop off. I can’t help it that there’s not always something interesting happening in my life. I don’t want to bore you, my two or three readers, you know.
If you read the last post, well, work is going well. I’m learning a lot whilst breaking things (although not my fault). Sometimes I feel like a complete moron, but that’s probably just an issue I have.
It’s quite difficult to believe that 2010 is winding down already. It’s already nearly time to make those New Year’s resolutions that we all break on, oh, January 2. Have you already decided on what you aren’t going to do in 2011? 😉
*total aside* Mariska Hargitay is a beautiful woman. Yeah, I’m watching SVU.
On the subject of 2011, in January, I get the sweet opportunity to do a little Zumba during halftime of the Nuggets game in January. Now, if I could just get around to learning that dance, lol, If you’re in Colorado or New Orleans (I’m pretty sure they’re playing NO), maybe you’ll get to catch that halftime gig on TV.
I hope you’ll bear with me here. I know this is kinda ramble-y, but I’m trying to get back to my former blogging form. If you’d like to read from when I was more coherent, there are plenty of entries to check out right after I import them, lol.
Regardless, I thank you, three readers, for stopping by. It’ll get better so tell your friends. Until later….