iTunes Troubles

The problem with the i-tunes gift card is a strange one. All day I hear or remember songs that I love on the radio, on a commercial, etc, and I think, "Why don't I have that on my ipod?" 

Enter the i-tunes gift card: a simultaneously exciting and frustrating thing. It's like going into a bookstore or a library without a list (yes, a list for the library. Don't judge). Inevitably, as soon as I walk through the doors, the thing I want disappears from my mind. Author, title, gone. Sometimes the color of the bookcover remains, but you can't exactly search the catalog for "book with yellow cover." 

I just took a cataloging class, so sadly, I know this all too well.

I sat in front of my computer yesterday for two hours trying to pinpoint the songs I'd been wanting all year. Of course one gift card isn't going to cover everything, but I could definitely get the most important ones. I remembered that there was a Bob Dylan song that I loved when I heard it on the radio, but it was also one that I didn't already own. Problem: I can't remember which one. Was it "Positively 4th Street"? I never did remember. Same thing went with several other bands. 

I finally settled on "Our House" by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young (which I have on vinyl but not on my ipod), a couple Dr. Dog songs, and the Brothers album by The Black Keys. I'm happy with those, but next time I think I'll need to keep a list.

And I just realized that maybe it wasn't Bob Dylan I was searching for but Neil Young!!

Christmas Decor

Due to Christmas and trying to stay away from the computer on my days off, the blog has fallen behind. Apologies. Here is an update.

We're kind of a train family....every year my dad would meticulously put up the train platform. It was the kind of train where you needed to nail the tracks to the platform. We used to go to bed when the platform only had a bare set of tracks and then wake up to a whole little world of houses, and tiny people, and snow. Now my brother Jake and I take care of the platform (because my dad has many jobs). Note Jake's mountains in the background.

(Snow covered lake with boat)

(wee town)

The stockings are some of my favourite decorations; each one was made by my grandmom when we were born.

(stockings by Martha)

My dad gave my mom a birdhouse..which is literally a bird shape and not technically intended to be outdoors. (Could you imagine being a bird living inside a larger bird? Would a bird think that was weird?)

(birdhouse from the Poconoes)

Sock Monkey!

For Christmas, I bought my goddaughter the Complete Adventures of Curious George (found at a book fair for something like 40% off!). She's only a year old, though, so I also wanted to get her something she could play with/chew on. In keeping with the monkey theme, I made her a sock monkey.

I cut up one red heel sock and kept the second for the body:

Even though I cut the socks according to the directions his ears kind of came out a bit too large for his face. You can see how thin he is too (despite my adding lots of stuffing), but I loved him anyway.  In a way, though, he sort of resembles Prince Charles (which is probably what I would've named him if he was my sock monkey to keep).

Because Adrienne is just one year old, I didn't want to add button eyes. So I embroidered the eyes instead (another alternative could be felt eyes, but I didn't have any felt bits).

The monkey looked pretty cold, so I knitted him a hat and scarf....after all, it's cold in Missouri too (where he was heading).

This morning I finished him up and curled him inside the box with the book about his monkey friend. I was genuinely sad to see him go; I got really attached to the wee man.

What Not to Wear: Yoga Class Edition

At my new yoga studio, there is a man who wears bicycle shorts to class. He's a tall, thin man, and as lovely as it is that he's doing yoga and being healthy, I just can't help but groan inwardly when he shows up wearing those black, spandex shorts. As he walks by cradling his mat and water bottle, I cross my fingers that he won't take up the space directly in front of me. Luckily, he seems to be the kind of guy who likes to be in the front of the class while I always hide way in the back.

He's definitely not the most awkward yoga classmate I've ever experienced, however. At a different studio, there was Sweaty Guy. This fella wore pinky rings and grunted and groaned like he was mistaking the studio for the weight room. One time, in a particularly crowded class, he almost fell over onto Steph (who was able to get out of the way quickly and discreetly). 

Another odd bird was Hairy Guy; a man who consistently needed to remove his shirt halfway in to the class only to reveal a hairy torso that would make Robin Williams proud (No wonder he was so overheated....). Hairy Guy fell asleep once at the end of a class and began to snore loudly...well, it was loud to me since I had the misfortune of being right next to him. 

Yes, one of the main points of yoga is acceptance: accepting how far you are able to push yourself (or not push yourself) as well as hanging out with a lot of different people during your workout. But at the same time, working out in groups can be a bit awkward, and it would be nice if you kept your sweat to yourself.

My point is simply this: wear roomy shorts/pants and please try not to snore.

Cheerio, Roomie!

Here is a goodbye-for-now post for one of my dearest friends. She and her husband are moving back to Australia today (I say "back" because he is from Australia), and I will miss her very much.

I was lucky enough to be able to hang out with Kelly and her husband Mike when I travelled to Pittsburgh for work this summer. We took a lovely walk through Squirrel Hill, ate yummy burritos in her sunny kitchen, giggled about college boys ("what was I thinking?!"), watched the World Cup with Mike, and had a fab dinner at the tapas restaurant Bossa Nova in the Theatre District.

(March 2007)

Cheerio, Roomie! :-)

Christmas Markets

I previously mentioned my trip to the Mifflinburg Christkindl Market with the Rodgers (sans Scott).

(Becca and myself)

Friday past I went to the Philadelphia version with my friend Steph. The Christmas Village is set up by City Hall and recently ran into some controversy because the sign has the word "Christmas" in it. Though I don't know what people expect a village of shops selling things to decorate your house for Christmas to be called. Crap for your Indoor Tree Village is hardly festive sounding.

I was happily surprised at all the really lovely, handmade German smokers, nutcrackers, ornaments, and food (real Germans too!). The day itself was freezing cold but sunny. And I got tons of Christmas shopping done (even though the only thing I was hoping for was a smoker man).

And I've always wanted to do one of these:

(Steph and myself)

Though the woman who took the photo above couldn't tell Steph and myself apart...we never realized how much people think we look alike. Well, except for the Suddenly Creepy Subway Guy, but that is a tale for another day.

Happy Christmas Shopping!

Acceptable Smoking

Since today is cold, wintery, and I had a doctor's appointment, I decided that it was time to go looking for one of my favourite men to cheer me up. After 10 minutes of rooting around in my pantry looking for a white box, I found him nestled in his small brown box on the vase shelf. Here he is, Otto:

Otto is my rauchmann (smoker man) that I was lucky enough to find at the annual Christkindlmarkt in Mifflinburg, Penna. I went with the lovely Rodgers family a few years ago, and people were literally running over each other for these wee men. The tiny trailer where the shop was set up had räucherkerzen in all shapes and sizes: hobos, barmaids, and I think even someone in a bubble bath. But the problem was that shoppers had to move in one direction; there really wasn't any going back to the beginning of the line. I had to look fast, but Becca helped narrow them down. And somehow, in all that madness, we found Otto.

I am pretty anti-smoking, but beings as this man has no lungs and isn't smoking anything addictive it's fine with me if he smokes away. Besides, he looks so jolly doing it.