asleep on the couch.

That's a pretty accurate description of me this week. It's been a series of meetings at work, so no time to organize my notes from last week's meeting in California, and no time to follow up on conversations from last week, either. So each night I've come home just looking to unwind, and perhaps cranking the computer back up later to send out some of those emails on my list. Instead, as Keith Obermann railed against Blago and examined the passing of the new stimulus bill, I would start with the long blinks and pass into the land of nod. Waking up with a crick in my neck, I'd hobble off to bed and find myself reading far into the night - evening naps aren't usually a good idea for the sleep schedule. So the week has been a wash, for the most part, and I'll be glad when it's over. I need to do a thorough house-cleaning, a grocery run, and oh yeah, take down my Christmas tree. So here's hoping that I find a hidden energy reserve this weekend. Or at least find the ability to put the smack-down on myself.

one week later...

Ok, so the weekend was a bit of a flurry, what with getting ready to spend this week in California - well, when I wasn't watching the Battlestar Galactica marathon in preparation for the new episode. But the rest of my time was spent getting ready. I wrote in my blog journal, but I'm not typing it in tonight. Tonight I'm in Santa Barbara, and after eleven hours of meetings, I'm so tired that over-cooked pork in my room service dinner made me cry. Maybe it was the forgotten roll. Or the ranch dressing when I asked for blue cheese... whatever tipped me over the edge, I called the kitchen back to say that, yeah, bee-atches, I may have been so hungry that I ate the mashed potatoes, green beans, and one piece of meat that wasn't dry cardboard, but I ain't happy. They took it off my bill, but I'm still a little hungry, and really, that doesn't make me a winner. One more glass of wine and I'm crawling under the covers, hoping tomorrow goes more smoothly.

not in love, in hate.

Dear Metro -

I'm headed out of town next week, and that's probably for the best. I think you and I need to take a break. You just aren't meeting my needs right now, and I need a little time to reassess my feelings about our relationship. You haven't been there for me when I needed you lately, and our fight this week about the SmartTrip card was the final straw.

So good luck next week with the extra millions of passengers, I know it will be stressful for you. I'll be out west, a pedestrian in a land of cars. Hopefully we can both come back at the end of the week recommitted to our relationship.

-Astrowahoo.

What I saw at the zoo...

Yesterday was a zoo day for me, and I walked down (and up) the hill thinking about all the work I had to do this weekend. I still haven't done any of the work I brought home, because while at the zoo our gorilla mama gave birth, and I got to see it! Needless to say I was ridiculously excited about it, and as I was the one who saw the most, I promised to write up what I saw. So follow the link, because it was pretty cool, and I just asked permission to link to a visitor's photos, so I'll let you know when I get permission and put them up.

The Answer.

Spit will freeze before it hits the sidewalk at -40C.

Of course, if you were a fan of XKCD, you'd have seen the answer on Monday.

moving slow.

It's hard to feel that rush to get in to the office when you were there until 7pm last night and there's no meeting or urgent task waiting for you today. I got up at the normal time, made my tea and sat with that cat reading the paper no longer than usual. Then I made the mistake of turning on the computer while still in my pjs. I decided it was time to upload some pictures and say hello. I should be in the shower. Actually, I should be out of the shower, putting on my work clothes and debating the use of the hair dryer - it's cold and rainy out, but the damn thing is so loud.

I haven't told you any of the fun that made up my holidays. Christopher's first viewing of White Christmas, the mystification at Vera Ellen's missing ribs, the production of West Side Story with "I Feel Pretty" sung in Spanish - a nice touch, but I can't sing along with that, my first ever experience sending food back - oh so worth it, in the end, but rather guilt-inducing in the moment. Then there was the birthday, a juvenille celebration of adulthood that I enjoyed immensely, and even (mostly) remember. I took a picture. Actually, I took many, and there were others present, as well, but for now, let this tide you over:


The next day we laid about watching tv, mostly because we couldn't move. I couldn't keep down water. It was the usual New Year's Eve. I've chosen not to make resolutions this year, rather promised a refocusing on larger goals that will require more than a year to achieve. It's life, a work in progress. I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, and I'm back on the blog, so until next time...