Every time I'm around other adults, people ("people" meaning mostly my parents) ask, genuinely interested, how life/work/stuff is going and it's not like I'm too lazy to actually think about what has happened and explain in words what is going on in our lives.
There really isn't anything to talk about.
I spend all day at work garnering a headache and a dire craving for Chipotle because of all the expensed lunches I file for our sales guys (seriously it's like they know it tortures me) and nothing interesting happens. Ever. When I worked at the high school at least I had fun interactions with all those crazy kiddos to talk about, but desk jobs are so. dull.
Does that make me not adult enough, or too adult?
I don't know.
I finally had another wedding gig this past weekend! That's noteworthy and I will tell you all about it on my harp blog. At some point. It's a work in progress, reserve thine judging plz.
On Saturday I hung out with the marvelous Ali of Happily Ever After and we got quick brunch from Jamba Juice and I learned how to say (or at least how to not say) jarlsberg because it's important to know which fancy cheese you are consuming.
We went to the breeding ground of thrifting for some claustrophobic shopping at Goodwill. I have visited the one by my house (Apache Trail and Signal Butte) multiple times at differing times of the week/day and it is always, always stuffed like a sardine can and pretty much just as smelly. Half-off saturday is a curse. A blessed, wonderful curse but a curse nonetheless. I had to be careful with my wallet because last time we went (ahem, seriously just the last time it was half-off saturday #ihaveaproblem) I spent just over $50 and basically filled up all my available bookshelves. And I bought an old, pretty, glass liquor bottle which Mark didn't automatically understand I wanted for mere decoration purposes and asked gently if I knew the bottle's true purpose. And a million other things but mostly just books. A lot of books.
So I took cash with me and after having already used some at Jamba I was really forced to limit myself.
I snagged yet another bag of old sewing patterns. I really cannot explain how I find the courage to trust those because in the back of my head I am well aware of the possibility that they could be ripped and ruined and totally unusable. But I guess at nearly 4 sets of patterns per bag for $1 it's worth the risk.
I found a couple books in good condition to add to my running collection of series and tried to ignore how little hesitation I felt in grabbing the book on the hidden meanings and symbolism in the Harry Potter series. You know you have a problem when...
But then there was the baby clothes; last time when the Al[lie]'s were perusing those aisles I went straight to the book section and that's how I ended up at home with three bags of just books.
This time, I tagged along down the dangerous clothing racks and squee'd and gushed over the tiny little bits of cloth. Ali has her own toddler to shop for as well as a burgeoning baby #2 growing in her belly as well as the upcoming baby shower for Allie to shop for so her quickly blooming pile of baby clothes in the cart was well deserved.
I, however, am nowhere near pregnant, we're not even trying (in fact we're on the far side of not trying) and I picked up probably every other little shirt and onesie, literally hugging a soft set of footie pajamas to my chest imagining a little toddler filling them up and running to me because they had a bad dream or just didn't want to go to bed. It's really a miracle I didn't start crying right then clutching the slightly dusty and gently worn fleece pajamas with the derpy sheep plastered all over the garment. But I did end up finding a couple pieces that will be wrapped up for the aforementioned shower and I managed to eliminate my other pile down to just one obnoxiously 90's dress for my nonexistent, only yet imagined future child...and a miraculously clean and untarnished Easter themed Thumper stuffed toy with the Disney stamp on his foot. Because disney and stuffed animals. I mean, c'mon.
We then went to Wendy's and had some lunch. Apparently all the humans from Goodwill were following us around that day and the line for food was obscene so I took the pregnant lady's order and stood in line for the both of us. Somehow when she was saying she would steal some of my fries if I got any, my brain translated it as, "And a small frosty." I only ever get the vanilla frosty but we had that conversation before and I knew she liked the chocolate one so that's what I got.
It sat there the entire meal and once we were done eating and were just gabbing I kept watching the top melt into a soupy puddle and contemplated tapping it with the spoon and telling her not to forget her frosty. Pregnancy brain and all that.
But then she grabbed the spoon and ripped it out of the bag and I was glad I hadn't insulted her intelligence by reminding her to eat the soft serve when she proffered the spoon to me and my brain sputtered and died and I stared stupidly at the little bit of plastic.
[actual footage of my brain activity at that moment]
Through a compilation of half formed sentences and much laughter we finally figured out that I must have heard wrong and I slurped down the remaining unmelted chocolate goodness.
When we finally parted ways I went home and excitedly showed my flustered husband the cute baby garments I had purchased for the baby shower and he looked at me with wide eyes and asked slowly, "Those...aren't for us, right?"
I assured him quickly they weren't but then sheepishly pulled out the little dress and amended, "...but this is."
The following facial expressions went a little like this...
I should probably care a little more. But I don't. It's cute and it was $1.50 and it's entirely possible my unconceived child will hate it.
At the very least it will make an adorable first halloween costume (I'll try to upload a picture at some point, it's very Heidi-esque) when they can actually walk around and get candy themselves rather than lay sluggishly in my arms or the stroller as a lump of fabric attempting to be a cute animal or whatnot.
My dad's sister from Iowa was in town with her family so we had a gluttonous foodie extravaganza at my uncle's house. He's a superb cook so there were hamburgers and grilled chicken and bacon-wrapped shrimp and the most delectable baked beans you ever tasted and salads and jello mousse stuff and chips and salsas and general yumminess. I had the chicken but I put sliced jalapenos and hot sauce on it. That's what we call "poor life choices". In other words, we ate too much. Naturally.
My mom is basically my favorite human and here's one reason why; we were all sitting around talking and laughing and without getting into the conversation details my dad was walking around serving the bacon shrimps (aka shoving the bowlful under everyone's noses) and as he passed my mom she was cracking some joke but he wasn't listening so she called out to him, "No listen, this is actually funny..." and I don't even remember what the joke was because the most important part is she was totally comfortable setting up the spotlight like that.
Twenty-four years of marriage means smacking your partner upside the head and exclaiming, "Pay attention to me, ya idjit." Apparently.
Highlight of my evening.
When we got home we slumped on the couch with our protruding food babies and watched Jurassic Park III because he wouldn't watch the first one with me. I love the third too but my sisters and I used to watch that one all the time so I have too much of it memorized. Not that I don't have the first memorized, but...it's just better, okay!
All in all, it was a wonderful, much-too-quick saturday and I wish it had stuck around longer.
Sunday was delightful. We woke up late, made an absolutely scrumptious banana cake later in the evening in between watching LotR bonus features and the first movie. We didn't have real milk, only a can of coconut milk which I was wary about, having never baked with it before. And the recipe called for buttermilk even. Hope was worried.
But guys, it was so tasty. Not to mention we only had bittersweet chocolate chips rather than semi-sweet so it could have been a disaster. But it wasn't.
It was so yummy.
There was a slight mishap getting it out of the pan so it wasn't exactly pretty and I didn't take any pictures but I will be making it again. Probably mostly to get rid of the coconut milk.
So we ate cake and scolded Odin for licking most of the frosting out of the tupperware in the time it took for us to go downstairs and bring up the cooled cake, (he's very good about not eating food that isn't his, but I guess that buttercream icing was too much of a temptation. I know that feel) while watching Fellowship of the Ring. I also colored three different pages in the My Little Pony coloring book I bought a few years ago. I think it was for a road trip with my mom and sisters so it has to be at least a couple years old. Haven't done near enough coloring lately.
And then I made a card for our anniversary today because we both agreed to not buy gifts this year and just save the money. But I couldn't bear not doing anything to celebrate two years of marriage. Plus, everyone loves homemade cards, right?
And this is what I'm talking about. Our life is terribly boring and mundane, but really quite wonderful. Boring is not a bad thing. I like boring. I am boring.
I can deal with boring.