wordless wednesday

with your feet out, girl you lookin' good

My toes are not “normal.”

I’m one of those people who have toes that freak some people out – my second toe is longer than my big toe. Now mind you, I don’t have a complex about this. I pretty much don’t care. But some people seem to. My friend Dom commented on this phenomenon a few weeks ago, when after seeing my cutely-sandaled feet, he mentioned that he has a longer 2^nd toe as well. Although, apparently his “abnormality” (I hate that word) goes a bit further – all three of his middle toes are the same length, all taller than the big one. Maybe his pinky toe as well, but I really don’t remember. We commiserated a bit about how our “specialness” causes some people to recoil in seeming horror with but a glance at our poor little piggies. (What? You don’t have random 10-minute toe conversations at social gatherings?!)

I’d pretty much forgotten about that conversation until this afternoon in the ladies’ restroom closest to my cube-home (read: cell). First of all, I have to say: Ladies (I assume this goes for gentlemen, too, although I’m less experienced in that area), if you walk into a public restroom and there are several stalls open, never take the empty stall right next to another occupied stall unless absolutely necessary. It’s called common courtesy. But anyway – I was sitting there, taking care of minding my business, when someone entered the stall next to mine. Mind you, our restrooms are pretty bland, everything the same yellowish color, quite boring and utilitarian. As I guess public restrooms should be. So, you know, eyes tend to wander, and I happened to glance at the feet of the person next to me. And her poor little toes. The first four of which were all the same pudgy length. I couldn’t even see the pinky toe, since it was (I hope!) hidden under her sandal.

What went through my mind in this moment?
Eww. That’s weird.

I’m a toe supremacist.

(When I have absolutely no right to be.)
(isn’t that the way it always is?!)

a perfect disaster

I think I should create a weekly post called "Things You Should Never Say." This week's edition: Things Your Accounting Manager Should Never Say.

Are the letters on your shirt curved, or is that you? - K

Um, yeah. Nothing says uncomfortable like "Hey! I'm looking at your boobs!" If he wasn't so clueless, I'd be offended. He really didn't think anything of it at all. And if we weren't in an in-depth conversation about university logos (unfortunately situated on my shirt), it really would have been awkward. Good times at work.

In other news... My birthday was earlier this week. My very favoritest present? The phone call from my brother, in which my twin 3-year-old nieces sang Happy Birthday to me. Best. Present. Ever.

(So much better than the naked bike ride I *got* to witness in the city last weekend. Really? That is so not attractive.)

Okay. I'm going to go clean something now. Happy almost-weekend!

So you ask: What's new?...

One of the good (bad?!) things about having a dentist who is Greek-American: When he starts shaking his head and mumbling under his breath, you have no idea what he's saying. (Frankly, I'm going with *good*. I think I'd really rather not know.)

This has been an interesting last couple of weeks. Full of waiting, and thinking, and deciding, and a little more waiting. In the meantime, I finally managed to finish Labyrinth by Kate Mosse. My thoughts? Don't read it. I'm glad I stuck with it enough to finish, because although the first two-thirds seemed like a waste of time, it turned into a half-way decent book in the last third. She finally lost the awkwardness of trying to mix old-fashioned colloquial language and modern colloquial, which was just that - awkward with a hint of trying too hard. Which actually is how I would describe the writing at the beginning of pretty much every chapter for the first two-thirds... After she got into the flow of a certain storyline, the writing was okay, but until then there was awkwardness and entirely too much detail that had no bearing on the story whatsoever. And, you know, if I was a little more caught up on my French (ha.), I would have gotten more out of it, but as it stands, I wasn't impressed. Or better, I was disappointed. I usually tend to enjoy your more gothic-style books. I think I should've paid attention when I asked the waitress from Chez Pierre what she thought about the book when she read it, and her response was, "Um, well... There was an interesting twist ending!" Yeah, there was. Which I figured out about 100 pages before I was supposed to. Disappointed.

After all that, I started reading a book I had picked up from the library and had been anxiously waiting to read (kind of my "prize" for finishing the other one) - Girls of Riyadh by Rajaa Alsanea. I adored this book. Maybe because I was so happy to be done with the other one, but I don't think so. It is a fiction book, told in the setting of Saudi girl writing an email every week to a group of Internet subscribers. In the emails, she tells the stories of 4 of her friends, and their trials of life and love in the city of Riyadh (with a little Chicago, London and Khobar thrown in). I couldn't put this book down, especially the last night, which should have been two. While this story is told in the confines of what most would seem an incredibly restrictive society, there is an undercurrent to the story that is wholly universal - especially in regard to making life decisions because it's what is expected of us, rather than what is in our deepest heart of hearts.

Last weekend I was given the address for the website of the McHenry Conservation District, which basically has taken all the unused areas in the county and turned them into parks with trails and fishing and such. So last Friday, after leaving work just a tad early, I decided to stop by one not far removed from my way home. I really enjoyed it, save for the mosquitos that are now starting to make their appearance. I took a little "hike," around a lake and through the woods a bit. I was very appreciative that the trail was well-mown, because of course, I hadn't planned on walking through a park when I left for work and had not dressed my feet appropriately. Anyway, it was a nice little diversion, and I discovered something I don't think I'd seen before: purple honeysuckle. And lots of pink, with some wild sweet william thrown in along the way. I love this time of year.

If only I had known how very dangerous love was, I wouldn't have loved.
If only I had known how very deep the sea was, I wouldn't have set sail.
If only I had known my very own ending, I wouldn't have begun.
- Nizar Qabbani

when the baseball analogy goes too far...

Things you should never hear from the pulpit at church:

"Come to church on Saturday and get to first base with the Pastor!"

these words are [now] my own

One of the perks of working for a book company is the annual book sale. When we were still in Lex, I always made sure to go and get some awesome books. Last year, however, I managed to be out of town for the first big soirée since the transition. So, on Saturday I was able to attend my first insane book sale in the frozen north.

I totally should have taken a picture of the crazy-long line, but honestly, that probably would have seemed a tad creepy to my coworkers. I got there 45 minutes early, and by the time the sale was supposed to start, I was probably about halfway back from the beginning of the line. (I was told at lunch today that there were some people who were there at 5:30am. Um, yeah, even 25-cent books won't get me up that early on a Saturday.)

Anyway, I gave myself a limit - I only allowed myself 25 books. And 25 books I got. Here's my booty:

(There are actually 26 books here. I got the thesaurus as a "free gift" for buying books. Yay goodwill! [um, not the store...])

You cannot image the crowds of people in the back part of the warehouse I had to fight through to get these. There was no rhyme nor reason to the way the totes were arranged.... Everything was just kind of all thrown in together. All I can say is, I got these brand-new (although a couple obviously have been processed) for $6.25. Um, I would have paid more in library fines in order to read these same books.

This entire experience has led me to believe something....

I need more bookshelves.

(Also, my need for books is insatiable. Because 25 new books did not stop me from checking out a new one at the library. But hey - it was only one, right?!)

all I can do

Hey!

Hey you!

Yeah, you, on the other side of the cube wall!

I have a message for you:
14 oz. of lotion? Is. NOT. the same. as. bathing.


(apparently breathing at work has become an amenity.)