Pin-interest

Have you ever watched Extreme Couponing? I watched a season of it on Netflix and found it mesmerizing. People have so much dedication to their systems, it's kind of amazing. They plan and tally and work the system and manage to end up spending only a few bucks on carts and carts worth of stuff! And I admire it, even though the things they buy don't always make sense to me. I don't, for instance, understand why one would need sixty bottles of mustard (or, like, even TWO bottles of mustard. Mustard isn't that good and it kind of lasts forever). What I'm saying is that it looks like a satisfying thing to be good at. I don't have the desire or storage space necessary to buy hundreds of bottles of laundry detergent and chicken fingers, but I sure WOULD like to be able to march into a grocery store or Target and buy the things I actually need and only have to spend four dollars. I'd like to coupon, but without having to spend the sixty hours a week looking up internet coupons and stealing newspapers.
Um. Anyway the purpose of that whole paragraph was to explain: there are some things I just want to be good at without actually having to work at and learn it. It's why learning to sew on a sewing machine is still untouched at #13 on my Life Scavenger Hunt even though I got a sewing machine a couple years ago. I read the instruction manual and learned how to thread the thing and sewed a few crooked lines of stitches into an old pair of underpants, but now I just want to go straight to being able to whip up complicated quilts and whimsical stuffed animals. (I was also very disappointed to learn how much IRONING is involved in sewing.)


So. I would like to be good at some things (not EVERY thing) without having to work at it. DIY home improvement is something I'd like to be good at, but I hate reading instructions and also I don't have a workroom or, like, a basic understanding of tools and construction. I can daydream all I want about creating a built-in wall of shelves behind my bed but it just isn't going to happen. For the present time I tend to stick to smaller-scale projects and even they can sometimes turn out disastrous.

I saw this idea at a friend's house the first time, and I thought it was brilliant-- an extra shower curtain rod against the wall of your shower for all the miscellaneous crap that would otherwise be cluttering up the ledges of the bathtub! Apparently it was such a good idea that it had even made Pin-interest (what my mom calls Pinterest). Examples here and here.

The idea looked easy enough, so I gave it a go:

Ta da!

I bought a shower curtain rod at Bed Bath and Beyond and then picked up some cute pink and white plastic baskets at the Japanese variety store (it's like a dollar store with bento boxes). It was a bit of a challenge getting the baskets on there and then hoisting the whole thing into the shower and sproinging it out to secure to the walls, but I did it.
And it came out perfect!

Two hours later:

*crash*

Yeah... it fell down. And then I put it back up. And it fell down again the next day. And then I had someone stronger than me (anyone is stronger than me, but in this case it was boyfriend) put it up. And it fell down again. I gave up, pulled the baskets off the shower rod, and distributed them within the bathroom as freestanding stuff-holding receptacles. I won't tell you what I did with the shower rod (nothing. It's still in the bathroom, leaning against the wall).
My first pin-interest project? Nailed it.

71. memorize the 12 Days of Christmas

Last year, Swistle blew my mind a little bit when she deconstructed first Do They Know it's Christmas, and then Winter Wonderland. I've been paying more attention to Christmas song lyrics this year, partly because of the aforementioned blown mind and partly because I was finally, FINALLY going to memorize the 12 Days of Christmas. Never say that I don't have goals, people.
As per my tradition, my car radio has been tuned to the Christmas music station since the day after Thanksgiving. Every time the 12 Days of Christmas comes on, I do my very best to belt it out, even if I'm in the car with another person and we were deep in conversation. "Hang on!" I'll say, "I have to do something! ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO MEEE...."

I got to the point where I THOUGHT I had it memorized, but then recently I was singing along with the radio and I kept getting thrown off and tripping over the verses, like "TWELVE DRUMMERS D- oops, LORDS-A-LEAPING! ELEVEN PIPERS PI-, I mean, DRUMMERS DRUMMING!" And that didn't seem quite right. Because, as I remembered, the first seven days are all the birds, with a nice little time-out for the five gold rings. And then on the eighth day come the maids-a-milking, which makes for a good transition point from animals to humans because it is a human/animal combo verse (maid plus cow). And then the ninth day is ladies dancing, which makes sense because right after that comes the tenth day, with lords-a-leaping. If you've got ladies dancing, you must also have lords-a-leaping, and you should always have MORE lords-a-leaping than ladies dancing. And THEN of course, you round out the group with eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming, because all of this merry-making could probably use a nice pipe and drum-based soundtrack (though I suspect the maids-a-milking probably get a little irked at this point, what with all the noise and dancing and LEAPING that's going on as they are trying to do their chores).

That was the version I memorized, and the one I heard most often on the radio, but now I was getting thrown off. So then I looked it up, and you know what I found out? Apparently, it is totally acceptable 12 Days of Christmas behavior to MIX UP THE LYRICS of the last few objects. You can even SUBSTITUTE some of the people with "fiddlers fiddling" or "ladies waiting," which makes me feel like we're being set up to fail. How can a person memorize the lyrics, if they can just CHANGE at any moment? Well, I'm crossing this item off my list because technically I DID memorize the lyrics; it's just a TRICK SONG.

Further on the subject of Christmas song lyrics, I can't listen to Baby, it's Cold Outside anymore because of the distinct date-rapey vibe (SAY WHAT'S IN THIS DRINK?). I make an exception of the Glee Cast version, because it's actually kinda cute.
And, is it just me, or is anyone else completely terrified by the concept of Frosty the Snowman? The kids build a snowman, put a hat on it, and then it COMES TO LIFE. And then, what? He threatens the kids with a broomstick in his hand, so now they're forced to follow him over the hills (probably farther than their mothers told them they were allowed to go), into town, and through an INTERSECTION. And just as they're getting kind of used to the idea of it being their lot in life to chase him around, he tells them "Sorry, I've gotta peace out" AND leaves them with a menacing "BUT I'LL COME BACK SOMEDAY." So now the poor kids have to go through life wondering which storm will bring the demon snowman back around.
I guess the message here is to always bring your OWN HAT when you're going to build a snowman, don't just use one you FIND. Lesson learned.

14. give someone something I love

This is Sunny.

I know I've mentioned this before but this girl is the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine. She's bubbly and happy and sweet and genuine. If you're feeling nervous about clinical or giving a presentation, Sunny's right there, ready with words of encouragement. "You're AWESOME," she'll say with bright, earnest eyes and a big smile, "You can do it!"
She'll tell you you're a rock star and she means it, and then you start to believe it a little bit too.

I met Sunny at in September of 2009, the very beginning of my Master's program. She was in my class, another ger1atr1cs specialty gal. I remember on our first day we were all sitting in a classroom listening to announcements and whatnot and sizing each other up. I remember seeing her then, wearing some brightly colored long-skirt-over-leggings outfit and I remember thinking maybe I'll be friends with that girl. That's pretty rare for me. I don't tend to like people I first meet, especially before I've even talked to them, and especially when I'm in a brand-new social-anxiety-inducing situation. But on the third day of school Sunny came up to me as I was just getting settled in the back row of the big, auditorium classroom for one of our 200-person classes. "Hey, Julia, do you wanna come sit down there," she said, pointing to a cluster of seats in the fifth row, "with some of the girls from our specialty?" I told her, no, I always sat in the back because I didn't like being up so close.
"Well," said Sunny, "If you want to have friends, you should come up and sit with us." She actually said THOSE words to me and THEY DID NOT COME OFF SNARKY. She was smiling and inviting and actually gave me the impression that she wanted to be my friend. Oy, I feel like I'm telling a story about preschool, not GRAD SCHOOL, but yes, this is how socially awkward I am.

So Sunny and I have been friends since that day. We were partners in our assessment class and I am CERTAIN that I wouldn't have gotten through that first quarter of the program without her. Sunny barely knew me but she pulled me aside and asked what was wrong the day I came to class crying. She came over to my house and taught me how to assess the lungs after I missed that day of class. For two years she's been there for me whenever I needed to vent or cry; for two years she's been telling me that I would get through this program, we both would.

Sunny says I'm the strongest woman she knows, I say I'm only as strong as my friends have made me. Because I couldn't have made it as far as I have or gotten up after falling spectacularly without people like her willing to catch me.

Today Sunny and her fiance packed up their last few things and headed off on their long drive across the country. They're moving out east and getting married in August. When you see the two of them together they just make sense.

Sunny brings out the best in everyone, but Nick brings out the best in her.

At their goodbye party on Friday Sunny mentioned that she had been meaning to buy some glitter eyeshadow like mine but had kept forgetting to ask what it was or where I'd gotten it. I had wanted to give her some kind of going away present but I hadn't been able to think of anything so I decided to give her my eyeshadow.

I would have actually bought her some but this weekend happened to also include a quick jaunt to Tahoe (if the definition of the phrase 'quick jaunt' can be stretched to include 'five hours of me driving while KC napped'). Anyhow, I didn't have time to run to the store to actually buy her the eyeshadow since KC and I barely made it back in time to catch Stealing West. Sunny's been singing backup for her bro-in-law's band for awhile now and they put on a spectacular performance at the festival last weekend and again last night, their farewell show.

Several members of the band are moving soon, so the house was packed with their friends, cheering, dancing, and getting teary-eyed. After the set KC and I said goodbye to our friends. We hugged Sunny and Nick and promised to visit someday, maybe next year or the year after that. Sunny told me I'm a rock star and I'm going to be a great NP and I gave her my eyeshadows. Now her eyes can sparkle almost as much as her personality.

I'll miss you, girl. Go light up the world.

2. finish my zen organizing project

We all remember what my living room used to look like, right?

Oh man. Looking at that makes me feel kind of dizzy and queasy. I can't BELIEVE how I used to live. And if you are thinking that perhaps I purposely took a photo of my living room when it was at its PEAK of messiness, you are sadly mistaken. That was just a regular day in the life of 2009 Julia. Cleaning and organizing were very far down on my list of priorities. Very far, indeed.

This is what my living room looked like post-zenning:

And, over one year later, here is what my living room looks like TODAY:

May I take this opportunity to recommend a book to you?

One Year to an Organized Life by Regina Leeds (I had a link here but I couldn't get it to work for some reason. It was affiliate, though, so I guess you can buy it with the knowledge that I won't see ANY kickbacks from it. So if that's what was holding you back from buying it then you're in the clear now).

That BOOK! It changed my life. Seriously.

The book encourages you to make your home into a sanctuary, a haven, a place of comfort, style, function, and happiness. Your home is where you spend most of your time, right? So why not make it somewhere WORTH spending most of your time?

I took that philosophy and ran with it. Let's turn back time a little and have a look at the transformation, shall we?

My kitchen counter, before:

My kitchen counter, post-zenning:

My kitchen counter, TODAY:

My bedroom shelfy area, before:

My bedroom shelfy area, post-zenning:

My bedroom shelfy area, TODAY:

My closet before:

My closet post-zenning:

My closet TODAY:

NOW DO YOU BELIEVE ME?

Okay okay. I do recognize that while this book worked wonders for me it may or may not do the same for you. Approximately one year and six months ago I found myself with an exceptionally messy apartment and a lot of mental energy that I needed to focus on not having a nervous breakdown and dropping out of school because The Crazy Ex was harassing/stalking/threatening me. My sister sent me the book, I opened it to "January" even though it was October, and I started organizing my kitchen. It was the perfect combination of planning, shopping, therapeutic self-care, and Getting Things Done.

And the book worked its magic on me. As you can see, I didn't used to mind clutter or chaos or, OMG, LIVING OUT OF BOXES. The book helped me clean up my act by not only telling my HOW to be more organized, but by changing my PERSPECTIVE.

I lived in the same home from birth to age 17. That house was my HOME. And I think that I felt like my college/grad school/etc. years' homes were "just temporary." Which, I mean, they were. I bounced around from various apartments to rooms-in-a-house to more apartments. And I felt like none of these places were really my homes, at least not compared to my childhood home. I guess I thought that my HOME home would come after I had a career/family/[whatever nebulous other things I wanted]. I suppose I figured that I shouldn't bother making some temporary apartment HOMEY because I wasn't going to live there forever. Which, well, now sounds pretty ridiculous. I feel like I need to clarify that this wasn't a CONSCIOUS thought-process. This is the reasoning that I came up with right now to justify my previous slovenly behavior.

Anyhow! I think the book helped me realize that it doesn't matter that the apartment in which I am living now will not be my home forever. I may have to move soon after I graduate, depending on where and when I find a job (assuming I do find a job). So I'm inevitably going to have to pack and unpack and weed through and reorganize alllll my stuff again. But that doesn't MATTER.
Just because I will have to put everything away again in some new apartment eventually does not excuse me from putting my stuff away in my CURRENT apartment. Eureka!

So. I'm crossing this item off my life list because I realized something the other day: ZEN IS A LIFESTYLE. I don't think I'm ever going to be FINISHED organizing my home. I'll always be getting rid of stuff and accumulating stuff and trying to fit things better and playing around with shelves and boxes. I'll keep working on making my house nicer and prettier and homier and better. The difference is that now I ENJOY cleaning and organizing.
ME.
I enjoy cleaning and organizing.
You win, Universe.

Now when I have an afternoon free, I want to spend it by gathering things to drop off at the Goodwill or organizing my important papers into a binder.

Or finding a new function for the little wooden basketty thing I got at the flea market.

Just yesterday I had a few hours to myself (I say that like I don't live by myself and don't have plenty of time by myself, but what I mean here is that I had free time. Which... I guess I could have just said in the first place) and I decided to hit up TJ Maxx. I bought some boxes for my bathroom shelfy thing, and then I came home and organized it.

I actually find it soothing to work on little organizey projects.
I did not used to be like this.

ZEN IS A LIFESTYLE. A lifestyle I am totally on board with now. A lifestyle I will share with you with crazy-eyed enthusiasm.

77. visit a brewery

A couple weeks ago I was able to tackle number 77 on my life list. We visited the Anchor Brewing Company, conveniently located within San Francisco.

They give free tours twice a day, Monday through Friday. We reserved ours a couple months in advance which I guess is what you're supposed to do (I wasn't in charge, all I did was show up at the appropriate time. Actually, I was almost LATE because the bus didn't come on time so I took a cab and my cab driver had to pull over and look at a map). The tour included a walk through the brewery, wherein our guide explained the process of making the different varieties of Anchor beers.

We got to see this guy doing... something.

And we saw these guys. Doing... something else.

We saw this bottle washer contraptiony thingamajig.

I remember our tour guide gave us nice, comprehensive explanations of what was going on and what we were seeing. The trouble is that after the tour was the beer tasting and after the tasting was the stumbling home and falling on the bed for two hours, so my memories from the tour are a bit fuzzy. 

Aha! Proof I was there!

Hm.

I guess that makes me a weakling since I flutter my hands and make ick faces at any beer that is TOO STRONG (which is most beer).
 
I'd say a good time was had by all. Several of us managed to tipsily slap down our credit cards and purchase some Anchor merchandise. I ended up with the Humming Ale shirt.

I can totally wear that to class today, right?

20. have and decorate my first Christmas tree

On Saturday morning I woke up and decided that YES. I needed a Christmas tree for my apartment, despite the fact that I'm planning to spend the actual holiday at my parents' house where there will no doubt be a much bigger and better dressed tree.

So we headed over to the Delancey Street Christmas tree lot in the hopes of finding a potted, live tree. The web site had said they would have those but it turned out they did not. I very much like the Delancey Street Foundation and I would prefer my money go to them than, say, Home Depot, so I decided to see if there was anything at their lot that caught my fancy.
I was almost set on getting one of the little wee ones but they were $30ish (with the stand) but then I realized that for about 15 bucks more I could have a bigger one so....

My tree!

I only bought one strand of lights because I was planning to buy a SMALL tree.

I know what you're thinking-- where the hell are all the ornaments? Well I only had, like, five. If it is surprising to you that I was able to lay my hands on those five THEN YOU HAVE NOT MET MY FRIEND REGINA LEEDS. Because of her magic book (<-- affiliate link) all of my stuff is now appropriately binned and labeled. Including my five ornaments. You'll also notice that I veered away from tradition and topped the tree with a bracelet. But I think of ornaments as items that people just sort of accumulate naturally. You get some as gifties, the little ones make them, etc. So I was perfectly happy with leaving the tree as-is (as-was?). And then I went to the Alameda Point Antiques Faire (don't forget the pretentious e at the end) on Sunday and ended up buying a pretty glass canister full of ornaments.

I forgot to photograph the tree once the blue ornaments were on it and now the lighting is weird so you'll just have to use your imagination. Hint: the tree looks great.
Somehow I also ended up with a tiny sprig of Misteltoe hanging in my kitchen. Merry Christmas, indeed.

50. read all the Chronicles of Narnia books

So. My commute to clinical is about an hour each way and it turns out there in fact IS a limit to just how much Cher a person can listen to. I have therefore turned to audiobooks to keep myself from going slowly insane during my drive (aren't we glad I don't live in LA anymore? Yes, we are). I decided that this would be a good way to work on number 50 on my life list. I had already read Prince Caspian, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, The Magician's Nephew, and The Last Battle and I read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe back in July.
Anyhow, these books are actually great to listen to on audiobook. There is a different reader for each book and they all do a great job-- they even do different voices for all the characters. And C. S. Lewis spends a fair amount of time describing food and I very much enjoy listening to descriptions of food.

The Silver Chair
This was actually the second book I listened to and, wow. It was good. Eustace (cousin of Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy) is back in Narnia and has brought a classmate named Jill. They must follow the signs Aslan gives them to find King Caspian's son Rilian who has been missing for years. I found it to be an interesting and entertaining story despite the fact that it was basically a collection of my own worst fears rolled into one neat package: heights, cliffs and falling from them, being trapped, being chased, being buried alive, giants, cannibalism, being tied up, being hypnotized and unable to move, snakes, and DID I MENTION GIANTS?

The Horse and His Boy
This was the first book I listened to. A very fun adventure story of the runaway orphan boy Shasta and the horse Bree-- short for Breehy-hinny-brinny-hoohy-hah (Yeah. And we thought Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii was a crap name)-- that took place during the reign of Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. The pair meet up with another child running away and her talking horse as they all try to escape Calormen and get to Narnia. I did get fairly eye-rolly during the descriptions of them dark-skinned barbarian Calormenes with their beards and turbans and pointy shoes and their false god, Tash. C. S. Lewis, I'm not sure I'm following your metaphor, could you be a little more clear?

The Magician's Nephew
I had already read this book but I listened to the audiobook just for fun. Here we see the creation of Narnia and meet Jadis in her own 'hood and see what kinds of misadventures ensue. This was actually my favorite book to listen to. It is read by Kenneth Branagh who is definitely the best reader (though, like I said, they are all quite good). I actually found myself laughing out loud during some of the parts-- there are a couple sequences wherein many different animals are having a discussion and Branagh manages to give each one his or her own voice AND keep them straight so that the same voice is consistently used for that particular animal. Well done, sir.


I actually also listened to Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader because I was enjoying listening to the books so much. I did get a tad bit tired of Aslan and his infinite wisdom making people feel bad for their choices and implying that they should have done something else but refusing to discuss what might have happened if they had. Also, I kind of wanted to kick Reepicheep over the side of the boat about  halfway through Dawn Treader. I'm not sure if I'll round it out and listen to The Last Battle as well. I seem to recall that book stressing me out a bit when I read it, possibly because it's a giant metaphor for y'know, the end of the world and all.

39. fire a gun

A few months ago I had the following conversation:
"Why do you have a can of Natty Ice in your fridge?"
"[Insert here a long and complicated story about the most irritating crazy alcoholic stoner leech whack-job meth-addict lowlife ignorant asshole lazy goodfornothing friend of my sociopath ex person I have ever had the displeasure to spend time with for two weeks]. And THAT is why I have a can of Natty Ice in my fridge. And nobody else will drink it."
"Huh. Maybe you should bring it when we go out to the desert and you can shoot it."

Brilliant.

So on Thursday I wrapped it in several freezerbags and a tupperware container and nestled it in amongst my clothes. I checked the bag for the flight and hoped for the best.

It arrived in SoCal with nary a dent or leak. Sweet.

On Sunday we drove out to the desert, stopping first at Bass Pro Shops (which is full of disturbing things like taxidermied lions and antler-mounting equipment and dove hunting supplies (seriously?? Doves!?)) to pick up some ammo.

We drove out past.... uh, anywhere, really. The directions included "and when you get to the dirt road just stay on it. You can veer off the main road because it will usually connect back up again but don't make any turns. Also you don't want to drive into the soft sand."

We stopped the car and hiked the last bit in the 100 degree heat. On the way from the car I was handed a gun in a holster, "here I don't have enough hands to carry this. Put it on." And so I did.

It made quite the fashion statement.

(I only wore it when it was empty. It was too scary when it was loaded.)

I got a lesson and a demonstration. The boys showed me how to hold the gun and how to aim and how to fire. They told me never to point a gun at anyone, even if it wasn't loaded. And then they just HANDED ME A LOADED GUN. Like I'm some kind of responsible, level-headed person who doesn't panic easily. Or a thug. Whichever.

I gave it a shot.

HAHA! Get it? A SHOT!

They all told me I did a good job. I laughed nervously, handed back the gun with shaking hands, sat down, and tried not to burst into tears. There was just something totally nervewracking and stressful about handling a gun for the very first time in my life. I had never even been around guns at all. Ever. (Unless you count living in Southcentral LA, which I don't (anymore)).

I drank some water and soda and watched the boys do their thing.

Don't worry-- they don't shoot animals, just clay pigeons and beer bottles and stuff.

It was hot as a motha.

After I had sufficiently rested and calmed down, I tried the rifle.

My weenie spaghetti-arms couldn't hold up that big thing for very long and I got all lightheaded from cocking my head to the side and holding my breath. And lightheaded is not a good way to feel when you are HOLDING A LOADED GUN. It was fun and made for a good photo-op, but I decided I like the little one better.

And so it was time for the Natty Ice to meet its destiny.
"Are you sure you don't want to use the shotgun and shoot your beer can with a slug?"
"Nah. You can do that afterward. I want it to suffer."

Any last requests, Natty Ice?

No? Okay, then. Say goodbye.

That was really fun and quite satisfying.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Thanks to online library requests, I accidentally checked out the GIANT "read aloud" version.

Bigger than my head, people.

There's this passive-aggressive note in the book about how even though The Magician's Nephew was written later, it's SUPPOSED to be first so that's how HarperCollins is publishing them. Which, did somebody do a fact-check on that? Because, while *I* certianly don't care what order the individual consumer decides to read to books, I think that my respect for C.S. Lewis might drop down a few rungs if he really MEANT the Magician's Nephew to be read first.
One of the reasons I enjoyed reading the Magician's Nephew so much was that I already KNEW the story of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe so it was neat to be like "Oh THAT's the explanation for such and such" or "Oh THAT's where this came from." It was FUN. If you are supposed to read the explanations FIRST, the information isn't surprising and intriguing, it's just information. Like how the new Star Wars movies came out and everybody was all excited at first but if you watch the prequel trilogy first, you miss out on the DRAMA that occurs when (spoiler alert!) Luke finds out Vader is his father. You're supposed to read Graceling and THEN read Fire because then you're all spooked and fascinated. Prequels are neat because we already KNOW what happens later. That's the POINT.

Uh. Anyhow.

That aside, this book was enjoyable. It was quick and fun and lovey I thought I hadn't read it before but now I think maybe I have because I totally remembered the part where Edmund draws spectacles on a stone lion, did that happen in any of the movie representations, is that why I remember it? And I know the witch is horrible and such but I kind of like the name Jadis now, is that crazy?

Also, there is one part where the children are asking the Beaver friends about the White Witch and why she's so bent out of shape about humans because isn't she a human herself? Mr. Beaver explains that she is not a human because she is the daughter of "Adam's first wife, Lilith" and then he just CONTINUES ON WITH HIS STORY and none of children stop him to go "Adam's first wife? Exsqueeze me?" and the plot carries on and adventures ensue and everyone fawns over Aslan and the kids chase him as he frolics through the meadow and they fight exciting battles and there is even a unicorn (!!!) and (spoiler alert!) the kids make it back out of the Wardrobe and whew! But I'm still stuck on Adam's first wife? Exsqueeze me?

18. picnic in the park

So what I had envisioned for a picnic in the park involved me wearing a flowy dress and a big hat, sitting primly on a blanket, nibbling finger sandwiches. Nevermind that I neither sit primly nor nibble but rather slouch and fling food down my gullet.

I think when I wrote "picnic in the park," I really meant "picnic in the 1800s."

But picnic we did. The weather was cold and windy and foggy as San Francisco is wont to be, but we managed to find a spot in Golden Gate Park that was sheltered by a grove of trees (which doubled as a bathroom since there wasn't one nearby).

I had bought a little picnic basket at the Salvation Army for seven dollars, and I was so! excited! to! use! it!

Hot dogs, potato salad, macaroni salad, Doritos, grapes, and french bread with cheese spread. Happy 4th, indeed!

See those red plates and cups? They came IN the picnic basket, still in their wrappers.

The boys played football while I ate the leftover kept birds away from the food. I played, too, actually. I can throw all right, but catching would probably be easier if I weren't such a cliche afraid-of-the-ball sissy.

Not sure why I am making that weird face. My guess is that I am in some kind of cheesy bread trance.

The picnic was fun, even if I didn't get to stroll amongst the flowers twirling my parasol.