we start the day by thoroughly deconstructing the internet. chatting, coffee ... then i realize that chuck hasn't heard a word i've said in 12 minutes.
because he is going all little-monkey-in-a-red-suit-meets-bongo-drums-and-double-A-batteries on his keyboard.
as a sign of respect, i wait approximately 3 seconds after he leaves before i sprint into the living room, flop onto the couch and begin my busy day:
really, lauren? brody? i'm not so sure ... and does spencer have a job or not?
oh hilary. you should have known "you make my pompoms sweat" is not sexy.
so now that i've completely overcaffinated myself and gotten my cardio in, i move on to blue machine naked juice. after that i have big plans involving cranberry juice.
i fritter about a bit. sometimes i just like to run around, sliding on the wood floors.
i like chuck's bathroom because you can prop your feet on the tub when you go. this is a reenactment, as i'm not vulgar enough [anymore] to actually take a photo of myself in action.
i settle into bed with a book.
i'm suddenly incapable of reading more than seven pages at a time without catching a nasty case of the narcolepsies. and, frankly, it has been a grueling day already. i conk out for two hours of where i struggle with dreams of betrayal. these are dreams in which everyone in the world turns against me and i search for answers. these are my worst-favorite kinds of dream. although they would make for great lifetime original movies.
i research some recipes online. tonight i am going to make a version of the middle eastern plate from chester creek cafe. i brave pant-pants and wind and make my way into the world.
two women at cub foods are grazing on snap peas. one looks like she desperately needs a snack; the other looks like she thinks this is her garden. i resist the urge to take pictures of them and the urge to say "hey ladies, this ain't old country buffet."
i stop home to visit my pet and make sure he is fed and watered. he mistakes my camera for the hand of an affectionate pet owner. he has so much to learn.
then it is back to chuck's to make my spread.
i find that i need garlic. i go to super one and the cashier guy looks at it and says:
he smiles a half-toothless grin.
this project eventually took about four hours to complete.
while i was making, "falafel," i received these summerish photos from lil latrell's visit:
here we are, smiling and happy!
here we are, walking along the breakwater!
here we are hiking!
my tzatziki is good; my tabbouleh is pretty decent; my falafel looks and tastes like potato pancakes. two out of three ain't bad, i guess. and worst case scenario, i got a good recipe for potato pancakes.
by now it is 2:30 a.m., so we settle in with a movie.