That said, I am happy to be getting out of town today and getting on a plane bound for someplace warmer. Of course, by "warmer," I mean it will be 40 degrees instead of 3. To call Seattle in December "balmy" would be a stretch.
Oh. That's right. Did I not mention I'm going to Seattle? I don't think I did. I was all caught up in NaBloPoMo when I booked it--too busy detailing my life in alphabet form to stop and rattle on about a trip. By the way, I realize I still have X, Y, and Z to do in my Encyclopedia, and I intend to do that eventually... even if my friend who rarely reads and never mentions my blog did make a point of bringing it up recently just to say, "You know, I don't really like the alphabet posts." The nerve. (Kidding. Love you, Lisa.)
Anyway, so I am off to Seattle, and it all seems a bit silly, because it is a very brief trip (only two full days) and I didn't even make any effort to contact the very few Seattle blog-folks I know are out there to ask for suggestions or possibly see about meeting for a drink. Oh well. Perhaps I will run into them anyway. Notorious T.O.G., if you see me wandering about your city this weekend, feel free to flag me down and say hi. Of course, I have no idea what you look like, so if you would actually prefer to avoid me, that shouldn't be a problem either.
Short trip or no, it will be good to get away for a bit. Given the fact that I had 115 hours of unused vacation time left at the beginning of this month, I obviously don't do this enough.
I'd love to give you some things to ponder during my absence, and since I won't be near a computer to post a Friday Five tomorrow, how about a Thursday Three instead? Here are three things I am wondering this week. If you have answers to any of these questions, by all means let me know.
- Why do I forget my gym socks only on the days I've worn black socks to work? And furthermore, why is it only on the days when I am actually feeling motivated to run on the treadmill, rather than being content to just lift a few weights standing in one place? Wearing running shoes without socks isn't terribly uncomfortable. Actually running in them without socks definitely is.
- Why does every "Dad" birthday card that isn't sappy involve jokes about farts, fishing, or fixing things? I would like to wish my father a happy birthday next week without once again alluding to a little elephant running by (his bizarre code phrase for passing gas), but what am I to do when he's also not a fisherman or in any way handy? Hallmark, get on that, would you?
- Why do I keep getting email from a music publicist mentioning bands I've never heard of and videos and press packs I've never received? If she's actually a blog reader, I don't want to offend the woman by ignoring her, but if that's the case, I wish she would identify herself as such. If not, I would like to know how I got on her mailing list and why she thinks Stefanie Says is a music blog. (Oh. Right. Because I go on and on about things like dinner
withnear Bob Schneider and my undying love of my fake boyfriend Rhett Miller. I see her point, I guess. But really--are any of the rest of you getting mail like this?)