Wedding, Donut, and IKEA

This may look like a typical Thursday morning.
However, it's an atypical Thursday morning.
Thursday mornings do not often find me with a hat on, hanging out with the Griffith sisters at Dynamo Donut + Coffee.
I wish they did, but they just don't.

You see, my friend KD got married that afternoon, and on that Thursday morning, we hijacked her from her hotel room in Oakland and took her out to San Fransisco for one beautiful thing:

Wedding Day Maple Glazed Bacon Apple Donuts!



I saw Dynamo Donuts on the Food Network, and after the initial reaction of disgust, I decided I must try a bacon donut. As we were telling KD about this donut experience, she thought it sounded a bit shady and that it was likely the donut would disagree with us, and we would all throw up at her sealing, which she was strongly against.

Because she's the bride, we respected her wishes and behaved properly, so don't worry about that. See how happy she is because we didn't throw up?



The next morning we found ourselves at Denny's ordering Pancake Puppies. Cute little balls of pancake? What's not to love?! I was digging into my 4th pancake pup, when I realized these are less pancake and more donut, and I had to stop. A girl should really only eat so many donuts in her lifetime, even if they are cute.



After the puppy massacre, we went to IKEA, where I found out I look good in gray,



I found a long lost friend (look! It's Kylie!)


and Tara and I discovered we would make lovely cooking show hosts.

I've never been to IKEA.
It sure is exhausting.

A Better System

I need a better system.

Whenever I hear a band I like, or a book I want to read, a movie or a personality I want to check out, I usually jot it down on my calendar in my phone with the intent to look it up later, when my phone reminds me to do so at 9:00 in the evening.

This appears to be a good idea. However, I rarely follow through. I'm always doing... something... at 9:00 and can't seem to take the reminder and run with it. Instead, I ignore it, or forget it, and it becomes lost. Sometimes I think I can just scroll through my calendar and find these hidden gems. But I don't do that. It's too hard.

So. I need a better system. Any ideas?

Easter Weekend

Saturday morning found us at the Egg-Mazing Race at the Sunken Gardens. The kids were to go into the maze and gather as many eggs as possible. This is Wade's game face:


Elle had to wait a half hour for the little kids to go through, then it was her turn, and let me tell you, she mastered that maze and took home a large egg collection.


Sunday was Easter of course, and on Easter morning Mom said, "Myriah, do you have any ideas for the tables for dinner?" What??? No! I hadn't even thought about table decorations! Where has my mind been?? I launched into problem solving mode and started racking my brain for ideas. Then it hit me! Marie!

Earlier that day when I went over to Marie's to place an invitation to dinner on her door knob I had noticed one of her old apple trees all blossomed over. It was simply gorgeous. So I grabbed my boots and a warm hat (for we had the first cold Easter in ages) found a container and scissors and headed across the street. On the way I found Mary and invited her along. The blossoms grew high, and Mary volunteered to go after them. I'm glad she did, for as much as I love blossoms and the pursuit of pretty table decorations, I don't really like climbing things.

In the midst of our clipping, Marie came home from church to find us ransacking her backyard. As assumed, she didn't care one bit about our stealing the flowers, and we had a nice Easter chat with her.

Thanks, Marie, for the lovely blooms!





The best event happened right after dinner. Ever since Brandon married Jodie, I have been dying to participate in EGG WARS!


You can try and guess which names where my idea.

And the hopefuls, waiting their turn to attempt victory:




Poor Ken. I think he chose "Captain Moroni" because of his long standing history of victory. Unfortunately, the Captain was taken down by "Mary Did You Know".


And of course we closed down the night with some height measurements.
It was a fabulous weekend. Happy Easter!

Men with Clipboards

In the past week I have been approached by two people seeking my signature on a petition. When my Don't Notice Me face and walk doesn't work, my comment is always, "No thanks." Both men where very polite and never pressed the issue. However, I have been feeling a little unsettled lately. Something must have made those men stand outside and seek signatures. Usually it takes a mighty act of Heaven to get me to do such a thing, so I can only assume that perhaps these men had rather been doing something else than standing for hours experiencing rejection. Nonetheless, they were out there, trying to get their paper signed. So, what's the big deal? What was it that they wanted signed? Could I help them out?

I'm pretty sure my answer is no. No, I cannot help them out. Unfortunately, I feel many of these petitions that I am inclined to sign are a bit too much of a double edged sword. For example, I know that the first petition was for a playing field in San Luis Obispo. Great. I support playing fields. But am I really signing something in the hope that the land in question will become a playing field and not a mall? Does this petition mean that I support using the land, however I do not get to determine how it is used? Is a playing field only one option to this petition? Do I also support building a strip mall and crushing the habitat of the soon to be endangered fluffy horned mongoose? The desire for one thing always starts multiple causes and effects, and I just don't think I can really pass by someone on my way from the mailbox, agree to playing fields and sign my name.

Yes, that's right, you read me correctly: On my way from the mailbox. On Tuesday of this week the United States Post Office decided to make my life a bit more difficult. Instead of meeting with my mail lady every day, exchanging salutations and receiving my mail right to my outstretched arms, I now have to use a mailbox across the parking lot. A cold, hard, difficult to open mailbox. This causes any number of disruptions, including my vulnerability to be approached by men with clipboards.

The Year of the Wedding

On Sunday a friend announced her engagement. Her wedding date? May 25, 2010.

I was blown away. Never mind the crazy sprint to the alter; it's the fact that another person of my acquaintance is getting married in 2010 that is boggling my mind.

I realized then that my 2010 wedding list was by far outdated. Since my last count, a coworker announced her engagement, an aunt announced her engagement, and a friend announced her engagement, all with intent to wed within the confines of 2010.

As of March 29, the total number of couples of my acquaintance with intent to wed in 2010 is fourteen.

FOURTEEN.

If any of you tell me you are getting married in 2010 I won't be happy for you. In fact, I would probably discourage you from making any such union... at least until 2011.

The Dog Jog

There is something of a story leading up to this post, but I'm short on time this morning so let's jump right in:

Yesterday Greta and I participated in the DOG JOG 2010! It was my first numbered race, and it was Greta's first bandana'd race.


We were both really nervous, but calmed down after some stretching.




This was a very casual race, and after the announcer made some confusing remarks and started the 4k group five minutes late, I took off with them even though I was in the 2k race.


Because of this, when it came time to turn off on the 2k route, I was the first one. This is a lovely feeling, with the station people cheering you on, telling you are the first one through. I started to feel like that wasn't quite right, as I had left too early, so Greta and I stopped at each station for long drinks of water. I didn't want to be the first one in! Part of the route took us through residential areas and to kill some time I stopped at two garage sales. We didn't really see anything we wanted, which was good, because all I had in my pockets where some dog treats and a fancy bag for picking up dog poop. Maybe I could have bartered?

Finally I saw some 2k peeps coming up, so Greta and I took off again to finish the race.

Greta got a medal at the end. She was so proud. Greta did wonderfully in her first race as she only tried to trip me twice.




After checking out all the vendors, we went to the Cohen's house so the kids could practice Dog Jogging around the backyard.


She had a huge day yesterday, and as soon as we got home she curled up for a long nap.


The Dog Jog was da bomb dot com. We are now looking forward to other Parks4Pups events. Thanks Dog Jog!

Sally the Cat

Greta is, perhaps, obsessed with Sally. So obsessed that we had to move Sally's little house. Specifically, Dad was the one who moved Sally's house. This was done in the dead of night and consequently Greta and I don't know where Sally lives anymore. Dad is the only one who feeds Sally now, and it is always done in secret so as to not arouse canine suspicion.

On Friday Dad went on a backpacking overnighter. Mother, Mary and I came back from a long walk with Greta and someone remembered that we hadn't fed Sally. I volunteered for the job but realized I had no idea where to find Sally.

Or her food.

Or her dish.

Naturally my Nancy Drew skills kicked into gear and I obtained Sally's food and some treats out in Dad's shed. Unable to find her food dish I went into the house for some Tupperware.

Now to find the cat.

I went through the gate in our backyard that leads to the neighbors and just stood on their property for a while, looking around, trying to sense the cat. Giving up I just said, "Kitty kitty kitty," and pop! She apperated out of thin air. I fed her, we bonded, did a few fist-to-head-bumps and I was on my way. It was quite the ordeal, and I still don't know where Sally's food dish is located. This wouldn't bother me so much except for the fact that Dad will be gone for the next week or so, fulfilling his dream of attending Spring Training in Arizona. So who will feed the cat? Can I just pour some food over the fence and hope for the best?

Chipot-Lame

It all started about a year and a half ago. I was in Fresno with a big group of people, and we needed to select a place to have lunch. Someone shouted, "Let's go to Chipotle!" and a murmur rippled through the group as most people agreed this was a fabulous idea. Naturally in my naivete, I needed an explanation. What is Chipotle?

"Oh, it's wonderful!" they would say.

"Best Mexican food ever!"

"It's kind of like Cafe Rio, but so much better!"

Wow. I've been to Cafe Rio, and I think it's good. I also happen to like things that are wonderful and in the "Best" class, so I had no qualms with going to Chipotle. So I went.

And was disappointed.

Not wonderful.

Not like Cafe Rio, and not the best ever.

That's okay, though, perhaps I ordered the wrong thing. That can happen sometimes.
So, when the occasion would arise, I would find myself at Chipotle giving it another try. I wanted to like it, but apparently I just wanted to make stupid decisions over and over again.

By now my opinion of Chipot-Lame is fairly well formed.

A few weeks ago there was an unnatural buzz surrounding my coworkers. News had reached our office that a new Chipotle was going in right in down town San Luis Obispo, and my coworkers were all lit up with the joy and prospect of it. Again I heard, "Oh it's fabulous," "Oh, I can't hardly believe our luck!" "I'm so excited!" "I'm going opening night!" "This is awesome!" "It's the best Mexican food ever!"

Sigh.

So, I took the bait.

I said, "Oh, Chipotle, huh? I've been there, and I didn't think it was that fabulous."

Everyone started gushing about how the restaurant must have had a bad day, and I ordered the wrong thing, and did I get the mild salsa? Consequently, a lunch order was placed, and I ordered the exact right thing and it wasn't anything to write home about. Nope, only to blog about.

Sure, it was fine and it was good, perhaps lacking in flavor, and I don't think it was bad, but I far prefer the vegetarian burrito at El Mariachi on Highway 41. Now that's a fabulous burrito.