random thoughts – Day 1,650 – (Monday) – kiki settling in

Kiki!

At seven months of cohabitation, Kiki seems to be relaxing a bit more each day. She will slip into a room I’m in and sit in a tidy little package. If I call her name and extend my hand, she'll come over for face rubs and lets me pat her from her head to the tip of her tail. She has started grooming herself in my presence. 

She is so soft. So sweet! As long as there are no quick movements and I don't try to touch her with both hands, it's good. She has set that boundary, and if I violate it, in two seconds flat she's suddenly in another room.

Tonight, she walked over to the end of the couch where I usually sit. Instead of scampering behind the couch, she sat on the rug, near enough for me to touch her. Progress! Now I need to not mess it up. 

She is still avoiding the new water dispenser. Based on the sticky note level marker, it seems she hasn’t had any water from it yet. She now favors the stainless steel bowl in the bathroom next to her food in the elevated bowl stand. I hope she decides she likes the water dispenser. Like, soon. It holds more than the bowls. 

Kiki knows the nighttime treats drill that was established her first night here. She used to visit the treats when I was in bed. The treats used to sit in place for a while, sometimes overnight. Now, she walks right over to where the treats have been planted all these months – the base of the scratching post, the top of the scratching ramp, in her hidey bed, in her crate. She often eats them all before I’m halfway up the stairs to bed. Tonight, she was licking the base of the scratching post where treats have been placed previously. She still won't scratch on the post, but at least she isn't afraid of the thing anymore.

Keeks still likes to mess with me. She’ll walk into a room, meow, and leave. If I follow her, she hides under the dining room table. When I go upstairs to bed, sometimes she meows until I meow back, then she stops. In the morning, if I sit on the bottom step, she will approach and let me stroke her face. Then she returns to her spot under the dining room table and watches me from between the chair rungs. As I make the morning coffee, she appears in the kitchen doorway, but if I look directly at her, she runs back under the table.

Lounging on the chair again.

Today, while I worked in the remote office off the kitchen, Kiki lounged on the living room chair that she liked at first, then boycotted, and now likes again as of this weekend. She let me get really close to her on the chair to give her some love and she didn’t try to run away.  

Every night when she sits on the living room run and looks at me as I sit on the couch, I pat the cushion and invite her up. I’m pretty sure that one day she will surprise me by climbing up onto the couch. Then, after a while, it could be hours, or days, or weeks, she’ll sit next to me and I will melt. And then, the day will come when she climbs into my lap. Cozy home goals.

random thoughts – Day 1,649 – (Sunday) –food and data

Mac and cheese.

The mostly quiet and relaxing Sunday included the start of the fall/winter menu changeover in The BungaLowell kitchen. The reserves of cheese ends from the freezer were grated for a baked macaroni and cheese. The thought of mac and cheese has materialized several times, but it was during the hot weather when running the oven was undesirable. 

As the rotini cooked in one saucepan, a half onion and a large carrot were chopped and sautéed in olive oil and butter in the larger soup kettle. When the rotini was cooked, the water from the cooked pasta was poured into the soup kettle with a quart of broth from the freezer.  Later, the last of a jar of salsa, a can of diced tomatoes, a can of black beans, and a packet of onion soup mix. Fall food season was officially underway.

The quiet afternoon spent playing a game on the phone was interrupted by a text message with the shocking news from the cell provider that somehow there was only 10% of data left with 21 days left in the billing cycle. Usually, there is a chunk of data that rolls over each month, and if it gets close to full usage, it’s with a day left in the cycle. Bumping into the data max scenario nine days into the cycle was unbelievable. The next thing I knew, I was on a laptop chat with a rep to explore my options, after a frustrating search on the company’s website. I ended up upgrading the plan I’ve had for years with no issues. The rep made it sound like this was no big deal and my plan could be updated as of today.

A text with the plan info and agreement was sent to the phone. Clicking the button to confirm led to a plain screen with a spinning circle that lasted forever. From the laptop, the rep was alerted to the situation on the phone. They dropped a new link to the agreement to the laptop, which also went to the same spinning circle as the phone. That’s about when the User Feedback box popped up and I was ready to toss both the laptop and the phone out the window.

It took more than an hour to add more data to my plan. I was offered six months of free Disney, which was pulled back a minute later as not available on whatever I have/was getting. That was okay with me, because I have no interest in Disney channel.

When it was finally all done, the rep typed, “great, this will go into effect on the October 21 billing.” Ummm, no. The whole point is that I needed it now. There is no way I want to be monitoring data for the next 21 days, six of which I will be on vacation. We backed up the process a couple steps and a new link to an updated agreement was sent to the phone.

Soup!

As annoying as the entire phone/data/ ordeal was, I felt fortunate that it happened today and not when I’m away on vacation. I’m just dying to know what caused the sudden unusually large data usage. And it was nice to sit down for a supper of fresh soup dressed with shredded cheese and a slice of hearty bread with soft butter. Cooking ahead definitely has its rewards.

random thoughts – Day 1,648 – (Saturday) – saturday fun day

Going out on Friday after work has a bonus beyond the fun of the night itself. It has always seemed to me that it makes the weekend feel longer. I like that.

Kiki's observation post.

The morning coffee drinking and couch lingering was relaxing and then there was a surprise. Kiki sauntered into the living room, and for the first time in a couple months, she climbed up onto what used to be her favorite chair until she abruptly stopped sitting in it. She stood on the seat and looked at me as I sat on the couch. Was she observing? Judging? I don't know. Then she folded herself into an little ball of fluff and had a nap. It was adorable.

The day’s original plan, set months ago, was to take Kiki to the vet for a routine check, bring her back home, then drive to Worcester for a 1:00 hair salon appointment. The itinerary was changed a couple weeks ago and Kiki’s appointment was pushed out by a couple weeks. I thought about also postponing the hair appointment, but never got around to making the call. It actually worked out great.

In the weird way of my hair which has an agenda all its own, I went to bed one night during the week and woke up the next morning with bangs that had been possessed by a demon while I slept. There were suddenly flips and cowlicks and bumps that refused to be tamed for more than a few hours. Not only that, but my ends were all dry and weird. This is nothing new. My hair has tortured me like this for my whole life. The hair salon appointment couldn’t arrive quickly enough.

The appointment was late enough that I had a chance to visit Kohl’s in Worcester first. I remembered that I had $30 in Kohl’s cash that expires on Sunday. Even better, the clearance items were half off the lowest price. I headed for the clearance racks in the Intimates department (polite retail speak for “underwear”) and found several needed items, plus a sweater, and a packable hat for vacation elsewhere in the store. The hat is yet another fedora, because the wider brim beach hat was too loose on my head. After the Kohl’s cash, it all cost just $13.

Tidied up.

The hair got a refresh. Bangs were tweaked and blended in. The dead, dry ends were trimmed. Some fresh layered bits were cut. The professional shampoo with scalp massage is relaxing and the blow out always makes me feel like a million bucks. 

During the ride home, the car piloted itself for a detour to the Kohl’s in Chelmsford. The fabricated need for a black swimsuit top had been in my head since the visit there a couple weeks ago. And now the clearance racks were half-off. By some miracle, a black swim top, which I couldn’t find a couple weeks ago, was there today on the rack as if it was waiting just for me. More underthings were found. I saw a neighbor as I left the fitting room and she was coming in, and in eight years it's the first time I've ever seen her anyplace other than our shared driveway. 

After the treasure hunting at Kohl's it was time to head home. There was some sitting around watching Netflix while a load of laundry was done. The dishwasher was emptied. And the weekend continues tomorrow, with some of the Sunday chores already done.

random thoughts – Day 1,647 – (Friday) – mexican friday

Friday sometimes means dinner and drinks after work with a work friend. Sometimes we plan it, sometimes schedules change and it's spontaneous. This was one of those spontaneous Fridays. Hooray! 

The morning started out weird when I looked in the mirror and saw that one eye was red and puffy and looked like I had punched myself in my sleep. Later in the day, the same eye got itchy and felt like sand had been thrown into it. The self image start to the day was scratchy, but the work part of the day was refreshingly productive.

Mexican food!

We chose a new dining destination for the "shake off the week" adventure. Tijuana Grill on Market Street opened some number of months ago that neither of us was sure of. The place was nice and still shiny and new. The menu was long, but not overwhelming.

Despite the presence of an online PDF menu that my friend viewed earlier in the day and which showed a list of drinks including sangria, wine, and margaritas, we were informed the establishment doesn’t have their liquor license yet. The server said it was ok if we wanted to leave, but we still wanted to try the food, which we had heard was good.

I ordered the Burritos Vegetarianos, described as “two grilled flour tortillas filled with beans, cheese, and vegetables” and came with rice and a salad. It was pretty. It was very tasty. And very filling. My friend's dish was colorful and artfully arranged but I forgot what it was called.

After the filling food, we waddled our stuffed selves down the block and around the corner to Tremonte Pizzeria, which has “ice bar” noted on the outside of the building. The “ice” part of the bar is a strip on the edge closest to the bartender side of the real estate. It’s several inches wide and filled with what looks like salt. It’s weird ice in grains smaller than rock salt and maybe kind of slushy. We played in it a little bit, analyzing its composition and wondering why it is even a thing. 

Unfortunately, the stretch of the ice bar closest to us wasn’t level, so when my Mast Landing stout draft was set on the ice bar by the bartender, some of it spilled out and stained the ice brown which looked kind of yucky. I’m not super impressed by the ice bar concept, but maybe if it was a frozen drink I might feel differently.

We chatted about the usual after work topics, like how busy/rough/weird the work week was and thank goodness it’s over, then onto fun stuff like vacation plans and past travels and how hard it is to understand people who say that they have no interest in leaving their home towns to visit other places. How is that possible? Seriously, we can’t figure that out.

Ignored water dispenser.

Back at home, Kiki is being more cuddly. And neurotic. I bought her a water dispenser and set it up Wednesday night, which she hasn’t touched yet. I marked the water level with a sticky note after it seemed the level hadn’t changed. 

Tonight, the level was still at the yellow sticky note. She isn’t dehydrating. She is now drinking from the bowl next to her food bowl, which was ignored until this week when the water dispenser was set up. Maybe with time. She isn’t one to jump on trends. Or normal cat things like boxes, packing paper, balls, plush toys, or catnip. Yet. There is still hope.

random thoughts – Day 1,646 – (Thursday) – gray with drizzle and delays

It was gray and chilly. Drizzly. I did a schedule switch and worked in-office today which had everything feeling a bit off kilter. The switch was so I could be to remote on Friday and be on the correct side of the river at 5:00 and spare myself a half hour headache crossing the river to get to an evening commitment out of town.

Gray day with drizzle.

There was nothing catastrophic about the day at the office, but every thing I touched seemed to skid a little sideways. Most of it involved the printer, and after fighting with it on two or three projects I was ready to reenact the scene from Office Space when the guys take the office printer into a field and bash it to bits. Instead, I did the less satisfying but more civilized and professional activity of submitting a service ticket to our Help Desk. 

The simple task of printing and trimming 50 copies of the invitation was derailed by not being able to print more than one of the small pages on a sheet of paper. It was tried every which way and ate up much more time than it deserved before I said “Eff it” and moved on to screw something else up.

There were ads I received from an outside designer that needed to be moved along for review. The problem was, each PDF for the foreign language ads contained extra versions of the ad in English that needed to be stripped out. It’s an annoying and time-consuming step that was had been set aside while a series of other brush fires was extinguished. Days turned into weeks before I knew it and suddenly, the firm was asking if they could close the project file. That lit the fire under this project again and the ad files were finally stripped out so I could send the ads for Spanish and Khmer reviews. At least that got done.

The entire day went like this. My sinuses had been sniffly most of the day. The series of annoyances, at least one or two of which were the result of my own doing, was tiring. I needed a nap.

I ended up staying a bit late at the office, and when I was about ready to leave, it began to rain. Before leaving the office, I had told my colleague that after the irritating day, I didn’t even feel like going to ballet, which I had looked forward to for a week.

The traffic outside the office was heavy. I was nearly hit by a red Honda HR-V while crossing Merrimack Street in a crosswalk. The magic lines seem to be invisible to many drivers. Or maybe, the more accurate conclusion after nearly being run over twice in as many days is that I’m the thing that has become invisible.

It took 35 minutes to get home in heavy traffic with light rain, which also seemed to be accompanied by a drastically lowered driver IQ. I finally arrived home at 6:00, just as the rain had gotten heavier.

The tardy arrival in an annoyed state allowed 30 minutes to change from work pants and top to leggings for ballet class, fill the water bottle, grab the ballet footwear, and get back into the car. The drive to class took around 45 minutes in dry weather and a not excessive traffic volume the past three weeks. The volume at 6:00 felt extra heavy, which would double the already crazy amount of time it takes to get out of Lowell. I changed into sweats, nuked the last of the tortellini with tomato sauce and cheese, parked my arse on the couch, draped a blanket over my lap, and did not go to class.

Was I recharging? Decompressing? Avoiding? Engaging in calming self-care? Maybe, I don’t know. From where I sat, I was half-reading the subtitles on a Korean drama while scrolling through emails and social media, whatever that qualifies as. When the K-drama ended, the next show I dove into was Nobody Want This with Kristen Bell playing a self-absorbed sex-podcaster who falls for a rabbi. So far, it’s pretty good.

random thoughts – Day 1,645 – (Wednesday) – afternoon walk

Monument Square.

Under a cloudy sky on a day that was just a few degrees above chilly for me but would be ideal for many people, a walk was taken. Between the office and my destination were some obstacles and attractions. There were trolley tracks and a couple busy streets to cross, where one driver cheerfully waved at me standing in the crosswalk as he whizzed by, not even slowing down, never mind stopping to let me cross.

There was Monument Square with the Winged Victory statue and beyond that the Ladd-Whitney Monument commemorating mill workers from the city who were killed during the Civil War. The grass was freshly cut and the air was fragrant.

Beyond the small square lay City Hall and its plaza, and finally, the target destination, Pollard Memorial Library. An email landed a couple days ago that informed me of the need to renew my library card, and today was a perfect opportunity to take care of business. It took about two minutes to renew. Because I had time, I checked out the book carts with donated books left from the annual book sale. The prices are from 50-cents to about $2.00 depending upon the size of the book and whether it is paperback or hard cover. I found a few books of enough interest to gamble with a $2.00 cash outlay.

On the way out, I took the staircase downstairs to the side door where the librarian who renewed my card said there was a cart of free books and I couldn’t resist. That’s where I found several books by and about Jack Kerouac, and a hardcover book titled “How to Not Die Alone.” Most of the free books on the cart came from the library collection and were stamped with “Pollard Library” on the edge, the Dewey Decimal number label on the spine, and in some cases, the pocket for the due date card still glued inside.

Books.

I walked back to the office, arms loaded with eight books. It was reminiscent of walking to Fitchburg High and Fitchburg State in a similar manner. There was full knowledge that I really don’t need more books. In my defense, the smallest paperbacks were bought for vacation because they won’t take up much room, and reading on a plane helps me fulfill my role as a quiet passenger who makes no demands on the crew or other passengers. I can’t really explain the rest of the books. 

Some people are addicted to cigarettes, I seem to be addicted to hoarding books. It could be worse, right?

random thoughts – Day 1,644 – (Tuesday) – roller days

Typical practice attire.

On this date in 2010, which is now so, so, so many years ago and yet sometimes feels like mere weeks, the Red River Sirens Roller Derby hosted a roller disco at Magic Wheels, our home rink. Usually when we were skating at the rink on a weeknight, we were geared up as mandated by the Women's Flat Track Derby Association (WFTDA -- "whift-da"). That meant knee and elbow pads, wrist guards, helmets, skate stops, and mouth guards. 

The night of the roller disco, we were decked out in our best attempts at late 70s disco-era finery. It felt weird just skating with no gear in polite ovals like civilians instead of engaging in our usual drills on falls, speed, endurance, and hits. Our skates would rumble on the wood floor.The suicide drills were we skated as fast as we could while counting up 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 minutes then back down at  4, 3, 2, and 1, interspersed with "breaks" for crunches and pushups were brutal, but also my favorite.

Taking a break at
the roller disco.

Instead of our gear, which usually stank, for the roller disco event we wore all manner of getups that included gym shorts with tall gym socks, shiny dresses, beaded tops, big hair. Just like in my younger days when I strived for big hair, gravity was not my friend. I tried channeling a Studio 54 vibe with shorts and a black beaded top over a flesh colored tank, based on some of the scandalous attire I had heard about from during the height of the New York City scene. 

There were raffle prizes and I won a gift certificate donated by a spa that was one of our team sponsors. The funny part is, I can’t remember ever using it. That long ago disco night was fun. Roller derby was fun. The drills and workouts were fun, even when they hurt. 

Now the fun is tamer, less assertive, and with a different musical soundtrack. I still get to wear outfits for dancing, but big skirts and jingly coin belts have replaced the team's red or the black bout jerseys with silver short shorts over fishnets. My skates and gear still live in my bag in the spare room closet. I don’t really know what to do with the stuff.

random thoughts – Day 1,643 – (Monday) – pirates on tv

Tonight, a new Netflix adventure was begun. New for me. The show, Black Sails, set in 1715, was released in 2014. The show is described on a Wikipedia page as a “historical action adventure” and “period drama” that was written as a prequel to Robert Louis Stephenson’s Treasure Island, which I’m pretty sure I never read.

The show’s theme music hooked me from about the third note. Heavy drum beats and the wail of what could be bagpipes get the blood pumping. Dance steps and combinations pranced through my head. This is not the first time theme music has lured me into a show. Westworld and Game of Thrones also had the same effect.

The main characters at the start of Black Sails are a bunch of pirates who have arrived in port after being at sea. Even before they landed, they seemed remarkably clean and healthy looking. More like the models on the covers of romance novels than sailors living in close quarters, working on the ship, and attacking and robbing other ships.

Clear and bright.

There is an array of startling and crystal-clear blue, green, and brown irises set in pure white orbs. Even after a sword fight, attempted coup, and beating a shipmate to death, the eyes remain clear and bright, and in many cases, free of undereye bags. How is this possible? Did they plunder a cargo of Visine, refreshing cucumber slices, and chilled eye masks? My eyes don’t look that fresh and bright after a solid nine hours of sleep.

Pearly whites.

There are plenty of close shots of pirate after pirate with toothpaste ad perfect teeth. Come on. Things seem much more advanced in 1715 than I ever imagined. The dental care with this crew seems to have been top notch, even by 2024 standards. There must have also been some Crest 3D Whitening Strips or dental office bleaching solution in the plundered cargo. I don’t know the last time I saw that many people with perfect, glistening teeth in one place in real life, but TV show production is clearly a magical world. 

Of course, the women are lovely. A brothel is an important location in the first three episodes of Black Sails, and there are lots of lovely lasses wandering around, in many cases, topless. The men get to flash their brilliant smiles, and the women get to flaunt their lovely bosoms. The parts of clothing and artfully draped fabrics they wear are kind of nice, though.

Overall, it’s an interesting story about commerce and piracy politics on the high seas and in port. With eye candy. I give it a thumb up. A single thumb. I like it, but I don't love it. Except for the opening music, which I am quite smitten by.

random thoughts – Day 1,642 – (Sunday) – fall!

And just like that, according to the calendar, it’s officially autumn. Bring on the things! You know, apples and apple pies, pumpkin roll and pumpkin spice everything, sweaters and boots, and foliage and backed up traffic with people looking at foliage. 

It wasn’t really very cold today so no fall sweaters were dug out and donned. The forecast is for temps in the 60s and low 70s for most of the week, so it’s not quite time for the favorite wool and cashmere numbers. Soon enough.

Roasted Brussels sprouts.

Today, fall was recognized at The BungaLowell. I was chilly and turned on the heat, but the house held steady at 67 and it never kicked on. I ended up grabbing a sweatshirt. There was also the roasting of some vegetables. The oven was fired up for the first time in ages. Brussels sprouts, the last of the broccoli, onion slices and slabs of cabbage were tossed in a blend of olive oil, vegetable oil, and a splash of sesame oil. The olive oil is running low, so it was time to get creative and create a blend for the veggies. I’ve forgotten to buy more olive oil at every grocery trip for the past couple months.

There was a brief flash of a snippet of an idea to make a baked mac and cheese. Really, I wanted boxed Kraft mac and cheese, but I don’t even buy it. Then I thought about the steps involved with the baked stuff – cooking the macaroni, grating and melting cheese, the bechamel, the baking and waiting. I thought myself right out of it. Monday after work is free of obligations so maybe the baked mac and cheese will be done then.

There wasn’t really a plan for the veggies after the roasting step. Supper turned out to be mushroom tortellini with black olives, sliced grape tomatoes, dried basil, and feta cheese crumbles. There were pots and pans in the sink since Saturday, and after they were washed, the kitchen was closed. The sink has remained empty for about four hours now and that is basically a record.

The sun was out and it was warm and pretty, so a trip was made to the front yard to pull out the dead stuff for yard waste pickup on Monday. I forgot to pay attention to the purple mum bought a couple weeks ago, and the poor thing is fried. Cooked. Destroyed. Oops.

The regular Sunday chores happened so the trash could go out. There was pretty much the bare minimum level of activity for the day, which felt almost as triumphant as the empty sink.

random thoughts – Day 1,641 – (Saturday) – packing and relaxing

Yesterday afternoon, I started feeling kind of cruddy – tired, simultaneously stuffy and runny nose, head ache, and overall general major ick-factor. To add to the "fun," the tinnitus has been on overdrive for a few days and nights. I rearranged a plan I had been looking forward to and headed home. I made it to bed early-ish and slept as if a wicked witch from a Disney movie had cast a spell on me. There were nearly nine miraculously full hours of uninterrupted sleep and by morning, I felt a few steps closer to human again. 

The rain we were promised arrived. The gutter cleaning, repairs, and filter screens installed a month ago seem to be doing a great job, or maybe it didn’t rain enthusiastically enough to be a true test, but there was no waterfall feature over the front door and the top step was dry. I enjoy a water wall in the proper setting, but over my front door is not such a place.

The wet and chilly weather kept me away from the annual Kinetic Sculpture Race, where human powered sculpture machines are raced over cobblestones, through a mud pit, and in the river. I love this event and look forward to it every year, but I wasn’t feeling like standing around outside in the rain. Instead, I lounged around the house (an activity at which I'm exceptionally good) and once fully caffeinated, let myself get excited for vacation.

Preliminary wardrobe.

The vacation wardrobe spreadsheet was started a few nights ago. In it, I list the bottoms across the grid, and the shirts and tops down the side and enter an X in the cells where tops and bottoms coordinate for an outfit. Any individual item without a sufficient number of X marks is cut from consideration. Yes, I really do this. To get things started anyway, and especially when I haven't been on a beach resort vacation since the 2017 trip to Jamaica.

Today, the carefully prepared spreadsheet was completely disregarded. I went rogue and started laying outfits on the bed and rolling and folding clothes and setting them into the suitcase, knowing full well that there are about two weeks to departure and I would be taking them all out again when the stuff still in the laundry is done. More items were edited into the mix than out, and I’m pretty sure that five swimsuits are probably too many, but I value options. There are sill no sandals or toiletries packed. Or underthings. Or sleepwear. Or books to read on the beach. Yes, there is still work to be done, but it's the mostly fun kind of work.

The most difficult aspect of being away from home , even for one night, is the anxiety of leaving the plentiful options in my closet and dressers. For me. I know less neurotic people who don't live with this curse. Weather forecasts can be unreliable, and I can't predict my mood. I've never been to this resort, so I don't know what the vibe is, and it doesn't help that I can freeze in any climate and as a result, require layering options. Once, while my family swam in the pool while visiting family in Florida, I wore a hooded, zip-front sweater with long jeans and sat poolside in a lounger. There are photos.    

The whole body temperature, mood, and weather uncertainty, combined with not knowing what activities might be engaged in, has led to a lifetime of overpacking. But hey, if I’m ever stranded somewhere, say, on a deserted island during a three-hour tour on the S.S. Minnow, I’ll have enough clothes to last forever, just like Ginger, Mrs. Howell, and Maryann on Gilligan’s Island. (Goals!) 

relax. Candle says so!

The evening has been dedicated to relaxing. The official two-wick jar candle with "relax" lettered on the jar, was lit. An Exhibit A Brewing Company "Hair Raiser" hazy double IPA was poured. The current limited series K-Drama “Miss Night and Day” played on TV.  

The only thing missing from the tableau of domestic comfort and bliss is a family size bag of chips and a cat in my lap. I’m really, really trying to eat more mindfully after three ballet classes in a space with mirrors on two walls. It’s that, or gouge my own eyes out. And as for the cat, Kiki is warming up to me, but we still haven't reached lap cat relationship status.

random thoughts – Day 1,640 – (Friday) – working with oldies

The weather talk top topic for the past couple days has been rain. Mostly, how there hasn’t been any for 29 or so days, the longest time since some magical benchmark, blah, blah. I only half listened because after I had heard “chance of rain Friday and Saturday” I had what I needed to know and tuned out.

Safe for wet weather.

Wet weather footwear choices avoid anything real leather or suede, which is kind of easy because practically everything is vinyl nowadays anyway. Today’s choice was the modern silver platform interpretation of the old classic wing-tip oxfords. Water resistant, and the platform is enough to keep hems out of puddles. Perfect! 

The Farmer’s Market, just a couple blocks from the office, advertised a Food Truck Festival, which seemed like a fun lunchtime option, but the Farmer’s Market runs from 2:00 to 6:00 and I’m hours past lunch by the time it starts, and it's too early for supper. Today had the added elements of being chilly and drizzly, so there were no trips outside for me. When I left for the day, there was zero interest in taking the walk in the direction opposite my assigned garage.

The day had a musical theme today and it was Chopin. There was a song playing in ballet class last night that I remembered dancing to at the Marion Rice Dance Studio when in high school. Someone used Shazam to get the title, but it was listed with the pianist on the recording and not the composer. And the title wasn’t anything memorable, it was one of those “some thing in some key” names.

Today I tapped into You Tube, my favorite “drown out the office noise” companion and landed on the complete piano works of Chopin. The collection was listed as being 14 hours and 50 minutes long (no, I’m not making this up). With meetings, and work conversations and so on, about an hour of it played during the afternoon and the recording didn’t list the individual titles, so even if I guessed correctly that it was a Chopin piece that I heard last night, I still wouldn’t know the title.

Much like a dog with a bone, I will likely keep trying to find the name of the composition, for a few days anyway, until the day I forget about it. There will be a romp through Chopin and maybe Schubert and whoever else comes to mind. I should start with composers with the smallest catalogues so it will feel like progress. Or, I’ll find something new to fixate on and puzzle over and this will just be another rabbit hole in life that soon will pass, but I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. When I say I like oldies music, I mean really old oldies. Music from the 1980s is great, but I like my oldies to come from around 1780 give or take a century or so.

random thoughts – Day 1,646 – (Thursday) – team building recharge

Every once in a while, a workday gets a much-needed shakeup. Today was one of those once in a while days, and involved a voluntary team building event. Approximately 25 of us from departments and branches throughout the bank gathered in our Community Room. The morning began with a breakfast spread of muffins, bagels, coffee, and juice so we would be sufficiently fueled for what came next.

There were some ice breaker questions in the “Raise your hand if” scenario. If you had done whatever was said, you raised your hand. We filled in the blanks about things like “ever won a prize,” “were in a grammar school play,” “were ever in a talent contest,” and so on. Then people were called on to elaborate. It was fun. The talent contest question revealed we have a lot of singers in our ranks. Like a lot, a lot.

Bagged and ready to go.

After the bonding portion, we moved on to the labor portion of the program. We counted off like in the olden days of gym class, which split up people who naturally gravitated to people they already knew and determined which of five numbered tables we would work at. The teams at each table filled 50 bags with toiletries that would be donated to non-profit organizations. Items included body wash, toothpaste, toothbrush, bar soap, body lotion, foldable comb, and some other items I couldn’t see because they were at the far end of the assembly line for my table.

We blew through the task like we were in a race with a big prize at the end, with "we" being every table. There was no prize, though, and our speed was kind of dumb, because it meant we finished early. Finishing early meant we got to return to our regular work locations earlier. What were we thinking? Seriously, what?

Overall, it was really fun. There are a few people I interact with frequently, and others I rarely get to connect with, and some I’d never met until this morning. It was enlightening. Energizing, even. In the same way that being around a lot of people a lot of the time can drain the life out of me, so can the extended solitude. The team building event was a great way to recharge my depleted social battery. I wonder how long it will last.

random thoughts – Day 1,645 – (Wednesday) – sandals and cigar

There was a walk in the sunshine this afternoon. Because I hate walking with no destination, I set LaLa Books as my target. I was barely around the corner from work when my feet were hurting.

Cute, but deadly.

The cause was my practically brand-new sandals, bought years ago, and recently discovered buried in the closet. They are tan and lace up the front and zip up the back and are cute. They are Aerosoles brand which claims to be comfortable, and the bed of the sandals is definitely cushiony, but dang, the uppers were not so comfortable this morning. Maybe this is why they were buried so deep in the closet. They look cute and friendly but they have a dark side. 

The walk from the garage to the office nearly hobbled me. Both feet were raw and one was bleeding when I arrived at my desk. Luckily, there were two bandages in my work bag – one for each foot.

There was cake at the office today after our monthly sales and marketing meeting for our quarterly birthday celebration. It was delicious because Market Basket bakery does a great job with cakes.

The walk to the bookstore got crazier when I crossed the threshold into the place and realized I had left my wallet at my desk. That’s certainly one way to save money. I took a quick loop through the bookstore and continued back to the office, mindful of shredding my feet any more than I already had.

The walk to the garage after work wasn’t as bad as feared. Or maybe my feet were just numb to the pain of the death sandals. I took a different route than usual, just for the change of scenery. On Lee Street, I noticed what seemed like a suspicious volume of gray, white, and gray and white feathers scattered on the ground.

Street cigar.

Across from St. Joseph the Worker Shrine, a decent size cigar, seemingly whole and still encased in its plastic sheath, peeked out from under a plant that seemed to be spilling out of a garden next to the sidewalk. It was next to a large gray feather. A few steps further away, some shattered peanut shells were scattered on the sidewalk. I see peanut shells and even whole peanuts all over the place, including my yard and deck. Yesterday, a blue jay with a whole peanut in its beak perched on the peak of the roof of my shed. 

While stepping carefully across the parking lot of the former Lowell Five Bank, a large brown bird was sitting in the shrubs at the edge of the lot. Before I could unlock the phone to get a picture, it spread its wings and flew up to a rooftop across the street. Maybe that was the reason for the feathers on the ground. The shrub was near the tree where I once saw a bird plucking the feathers out of its breakfast. The feathers were fluttering down from the tree like snow.

Back at home, the sandals were tossed back into the closet, safely away from my feet. I won’t be sad if I don’t see them again for a good long while. And I'm wondering about that cigar and its story.

random thoughts – Day 1,644 – (Tuesday) – back at it

Life has gotten busy with a new dalliance in night classes. Nearly three weeks ago, the Thursday night five-week ballet class in Wayland began. And it was good. Tonight, the ten-week belly dance class in Marlboro began. And it, too, was good. On the drive, I got to see the shiny full moon sitting large and low-ish in the sky. I can almost never see it from the house, so it was fun when it suddenly appeared.

For several years, there were classes I wanted to take but life was kind of in the way. One impediment was the expensive health issues of my two beloved, elderly dogs. My wallet was tied up with special prescription food and even more costly medications. I really miss the pups, but I don't miss the expenses involved.

The other impediment to taking classes was that most of the classes I wanted to take were on Tuesday nights, some of which were already committed to Board of Director activities. That would have meant missing multiple sessions of whatever class was enrolled in. The board had term limits, and my term recently ended, freeing my time for leisure pursuits. A shortage of dance classes in Lowell means that as of tonight, I’m driving to Metrowest twice a week.

There was a time, once upon a lifetime ago, when I lived near the school where the newest class is located, but that does not in any way mean I could get to it without the assistance of navigation software. Tonight, I was navigated in through a back route. Then I drove around the massive structure, past an automotive building and another marked culinary.

I finally arrived at what was recognized as the main entrance from long ago classes taken there. Classes taken in the last century included inline skating, portrait photography, flamenco dance, night club dance as an aerobic sport, and a Latin dance class taken with an ex so he could know how to dance with his new girlfriend at parties. Yes, for real. The class was a public display of our former relationship with me nagging him for not doing what the instructor said and also me trying to lead because one, he was doing a crappy job of it, and two, in ballet I was usually stuck dancing the lead in partnered dances because I was taller. That class was also a demonstration of how I don’t follow weak leaders very well.

Deserted.

Anyway. I strode the absolutely deserted hallway with the shiny floors for what felt like a very long distance before finding the correct cafeteria. And there was the class. 

Several dancers stood around chatting. A table was piled with hip coin scarves for sale. And then boom, at the class start time, we were doing a warmup which was a full blown dance that everyone else except two of us knew. Then we started working on a new choreography., followed by a review of another dance the other students had worked on before, but with combinations broken down, thank goodness.

The whole thing was pretty great. It was a combination of different from the class I’ve been taking for the past several years, but familiar enough to not feel overwhelming. And the best part is, next week I get to go back. 

When the Sunday class resumes again, it will be like high school when I danced three days a week. For a week or two anyway. Sometimes, I just need to shake things up, but all the driving to all the far flung towns could be the deciding factor in how long it continues.

random thoughts – Day 1,643 – (Monday) – summer threads

The beautiful sunshiny summer weather and temperatures in the 80s are hanging in there, for another day or two anyway, before it's back to the 60s. There hasn’t been any rain for a few days and yesterday I had to water the flowers. I can’t remember them looking so parched this summer. This morning the petunias, dahlia, and the new red one and the purple one which I can’t recall the names of looked much perkier than yesterday when they were all keeling over in the blazing sunshine.

Clinging to summer.

The beautiful weather today had me wearing summer linen and cotton gauze and clinging to the threads of summer tonight. One of the last two Luigi’s Italian ice cups was pulled from the freezer. The blue one, whatever that flavor is. That just leaves a lemon one. A half hour after eating the ice, the blue color had finally left my tongue, probably due to the help of a big glass of water.

The summer of Italian ice cups will soon transition to the fall and winter of soup containers. There are enough onion skins and ends, broccoli stems, and carrot bits accumulated in the freezer over the summer to start the first vegetable broth. It feels like the perfect project for a chilly weekend. 

It won’t be too long before the stove is once again regularly hosting simmering pots of soup and the oven is roasting vegetables. Many people look forward to fall for the pumpkin spice everything, but I like it for the oven-roasted veggies, baked casseroles, and quiches, all the lunches they generate.

random thoughts – Day 1,642 – (Sunday) – panic shopping

It was another weekend of multiple competing events clamoring for attention. Saturday, in addition to the Field Day event where Troupe Salaamati performed, on my radar were the Lowell Irish Festival, the Greek Festival in Fitchburg, a belly dance workshop outside Boston with Issam Houshan, the famous Middle Eastern drummer, and Johnny Appleseed Festival in Leominster. I ended up grocery shopping and running errands.

Today’s calendar competition included a tour at Lowell Cemetery, the final StART on the Street event in Worcester, and the Finnish Market in Fitchburg. None of those were attended by me, either. I was sidetracked on a shopping excursion for vacation wear, necessary after trying on my swimwear on Friday.

Most of my swim suits are circa 2017, bought before I went to Jamaica, or, egads, even earlier. Surprise, surprise, they don’t fit. I haven’t taken a summer trip to any beaches in several years so this nugget of info was crammed into a storage bag under the bed. The one-piece suits bought from Aldi were a gamble that didn’t pay off.

Swimwear.

Panic shopping took place at Kohl’s where there are still a few swimsuits, including some on a clearance rack. It was brutal and I was in there for what felt like forever, partly due to the extra peppy disco-era music piped through the store. And I really was in there for a couple hours, trapped in the clothing department, obsessively circling racks in the hope that items I needed would magically appear. 

Some swim bottoms that fit were found, but finding tops to go with them was another story. Of course, the mission strayed and additional items including a dress and sweater were added to the cart with the justification “I could wear this to work.” 

At least Kohl’s has fitting rooms and everything actually fits, at least for the sliver of time during the try-on. There have been numerous documented cases of clothes shrinking on the drive home and suddenly not fitting me once I got home. There was none of the “Well, if I lost a couple pounds this would look great” aspirational (delusional) shopping that has frequently befallen the wallet and closet. 

Kiki!

Kiki, who seems unbothered by wardrobe issues, seems to be relaxing more. Lately, when I pass through a room, instead of snapping to attention in a state of high alert, sometimes she continues napping. This afternoon, she let me brush her silky coat for several minutes. She leaned into the brush and even let me brush her belly a bit. 

I still carry the hope that someday she will do the stereotypical cat antics like sitting in bags and boxes and laps. Her antics are limited to watching me from under a dining room chair and randomly meowing for no discernible reason. For as long as she lets me, I'll enjoy the moments of stroking her face and brushing her coat and feeding Temptations Treats to her from my hand.

random thoughts – Day 1,641 – (Saturday) – big day, big hair

Dance performance day at the Hubbardston Lion’s Club Field Day dawned with a forecast of sunny and 80+ degrees by noon. Last year when we danced at this event it was cloudy, chilly, extra breezy, and I wore several layers. Today, my strategy was definitely fewer layers than last year – no leggings under the giant skirt and just a cropped top underneath the top with the big paillettes. 

Zills = portable music makers.

My hair is usually worn down, but there was no way I wanted to deal with hair stuck to my sweaty neck, and it was put up in a bun. It was an architectural feat guided by two online instruction videos and requiring smoke, mirrors, magic, a couple prayers, and purple and black fabric flowers. It looked good and didn’t fall out, so that was a big success on the big hairdo. I was out the door by 9:50 a.m.

We met in a building next to the event to get ready. We took some pictures. When it was close to our noon scheduled time, we made our way to the field. After our introduction, we made our entrance and set our formation. The first number started and not too far into it, the music stopped. The same thing happened during the same dance at the same event last year. Last year, we kept going and the music came back after a pause. Today, that music didn’t come back on. We did the dance with no music, and just our zills (finger cymbals) to keep the beat. Thank goodness we are our own percussion section on that dance.

Big hair updo.

It turned out the power to the amplifier had blown. After a few minutes of technical work, a solution was found and we were able to dance our next three dances with the music. Thank goodness, because we can roll though the first one with no music, but we can’t do the rest of the show without music.

After the dancing, we changed back to our street clothes and scattered to the winds. My winds took me to the shopping highlights of Gardner. First, it was the magical Timpany Plaza with Tractor Supply, Five Below, Gardner Cinema, Aldi, Big Lots and more. That shopping plaza is enough to make me want to move to Gardner.

It was Aldi for groceries including this summer’s addiction, green grapes. Then it was a quick stop at Big Lots to check out the half-off summer shoes there. Not only were the sandals different than in the Fitchburg store, the furniture selection is significantly better. In Fitchburg practically everything was gray, but Gardner had a gorgeous pale pink love seat and a cool mustard side chair and everything seemed fresher.

The next stop was Ocean State Job Lot on the quest for the 2025 date book with the flap with a magnet. I’ve been buying these for eight or nine years after it became impossible to find the spiral bound books I used for a bunch of years. There were none to be found in Leominster yesterday, but the Gardner store had it in the full range of colors – orange, red, green, and blue. I bought the last blue one, because this year’s is orange, last year’s is red, and, well, it was the last blue one so it felt more valued than the green.  Sometimes that is how I roll.

Unwinding.

It was 3:30 when I finally landed back home and all I’d eaten all day was a granola bar before I left. Groceries were put away and things rolled pretty quickly into food prep. Rice was started. Onions and broccoli were sauteed and then simmered with the rice in the Tikka Masala sauce bought yesterday. So yummy. 

The day wound down with a glass of wine and the bag of Milano cookies. Yes, the whole bag, but that wasn't the intent, just the result of taking the whole bag into the living room. 

random thoughts – Day 1,640 – (Friday) – full day

The vacation day had a sort of a plan for a change. The dance troupe is performing at Hubbardston Field Day on Saturday, and we had a dress rehearsal scheduled for 6:30 in Townsend tonight, which is close enough to Fitchburg and Leominster to deal with some errands.

Before leaving Lowell, the plan was to stop at St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Shop then Market Basket, return home to drop off the groceries at the house, then hit the road. Planned destinations were Ocean State Job Lot, the gas station on Route 12, the car wash, Big Lots, then rehearsal.

The bag of clothes for the donation and my weekend purse were grabbed. Of course, no donation trip to St. V’s has ever happened without a stop inside the shop. Treasures were found in the half-off tags and I stood in the checkout line with a pair of Ralph Lauren striped pajamas, a pair of Jones New York blue linen pants that will be perfect for an upcoming trip to Mexico, and a gray shirt with a hood because gray seems to have replaced black as my go-to color. As I approached the checkout, I discovered my wallet was absent from my purse and asked the cashier if she could hold my items while I went home for it.

Sitting in traffic and at lengthy red lights on the way back to the house provided plenty of time to debate returning to St V’s. At the house, the wallet was retrieved from Thursday's dance bag and a lemon Italian ice and a granola bar were consumed for sustenance, then it was back into the traffic. Market Basket was bumped for the afternoon, knowing it would be possible to go after rehearsal. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. The items were bought at St. V’s and then it was off to the direction of The ‘Burg.

Ocean State Job Lot was uncrowded and I browsed the entire store like a lady of leisure on a Friday afternoon. The grocery department, which always fascinates, yielded Tikka Masala sauce, Milano cookies and smoked paprika. 

In the car wash.

The gas station was oddly empty and it was a quick in and out with a full tank of $2.97/gallon gas, then next door for the car wash with the free vacuums. While vacuuming, I was mindful of the peridot and gold earring dropped in the car a month or two or three ago. And there it was, nestled in the nubs of the driver’s side floor mat, where I have looked for that earring at least a dozen times since dropping it. Eureka! Now I can stop sitting in the driveway looking through the car, and relax in the parking garage where I would look for a glint in the cracks and crevices of the concrete which yielded a dime and a work logo lapel pin but no earring.

The traffic was heavy all through Leominster and Fitchburg, but Big Lots was quiet and pleasant. The main objective was makeup remover wipes, but the summer shoes were half off, so sparkly thong sandals were chosen after going through the entire display. While casually wandering the store without a care, I checked my watch and was shocked that it was already 6:00 and rehearsal was at 6:30.

It was a hot-footed trot to the register where the sandals rang up wrong but I didn’t notice until I was nearly at the door and reviewing the receipt. The clerk verified the price with another worker and refunded the amount of the overcharge to my debit card. Then it was onto John Fitch Highway where the traffic crawled when it wasn’t fully stopped but the minutes kept moving along.

I arrived at rehearsal barely on time which hurt because I usually arrive at the studio ten or fifteen minutes early for class or rehearsals because I hate being late. It was a rush to get into costume and everyone else was dressed and chatting.

 We danced great and finished quickly. Afterwards, I stopped at Family Dollar in Townsend where the store is always tidy and the shelf tags are correct, unlike the Dracut store which always looks like a cyclone just visited and the prices posted on the shelves are almost never correct. The mission was caramel macchiato coffee creamers which were not found at the other stores. The added bonus was coffee on sale.  

Ritzy dinner.

At home, it was time for the latest episodes of Emily in Paris. There hadn’t been any supper, so it was a snack of Ritz crackers and sliced American cheese. Not exactly gourmet, and the only thing ritzy was the brand of cracker, but it was after 8:00 and there was zero interest in cooking or eating anything heavy at that hour. It was quite a full day, even if my belly ended on a light note.

random thoughts – Day 1,639 – (Thursday) – shake-ups and footwork

It’s been a self-inflicted schedule shakeup this week. On Wednesday, after scrutinizing my calendar and verifying there were no meetings, I decided to take Friday as a vacation day. That bumped the second day in the office to today. There was morning closet heartache and angst while trying to find some pants that fit. On the Friday office day, jeans are allowed, but Thursday is a different story. Three pairs of pants hit the reject pile before I found a pair that could be zipped. Ugh.

After work, there was a traffic-inflicted headache on the ride home. So many drivers being rude and aggressive and cutting people off! all I wanted to do was get home and change for ballet class and give Kiki some pats and love, before heading back out the door. 

Waze guided me on a different route than last week’s jaunt down I-95. Tonight, it was all winding back roads past beautiful homes and for a solid half-hour I had absolutely no clue what towns I was passing through. Nothing was familiar until the junction of Route 2 near Walden Pond, and even that was more of a brief flash than a full memory. But shortly thereafter, I arrived in Wayland at the ballet studio.

There were four students in class tonight. I had new ballet slippers freshly arrived on Wednesday from the shopping jungle of the Amaz*n. They are a stretchy canvas instead of leather, and I like the way they hug the arches of my feet. It felt like magic dancing off the dust of the day, practicing at the barre and traversing the floor diagonally with various steps. So familiar, and it felt so good.

Treasures from the Amaz*n.

The new ballet slippers, along with ten lace headbands for belly dance and yoga/water shoes for vacation, were bought with credit card rewards points, making them practically free. The kicker is, the set of headbands was bought primarily for the purple one, to go with my dance skirt, but the color is darker than I thought it would be, and more of a dark eggplant color. Errr…. Oh well. 

After class, Kiki was adorably seeking head rubs. Then I freaked her out by showing her a stuffed fish toy. She hauled butt out of the living room like something was chasing her. In my fantasy life with Keeks, some day she will have a favorite toy and she will curl up in my lap with it and we will be a picture of domestic tranquility worthy of a painting. It’s important to have life goals. Or delusions. 

random thoughts – Day 1,638 – (Wednesday) – food, dramas, fashion

Wednesday means downtown to the office day, and today was our quarterly group lunch. The idea is, the whole team eats lunch together, either at a restaurant or with takeout/delivery. So far, we’ve had deli food from Lou’s Deli and eaten Greek food at Athenian Corner. Today, we ordered food from Mandarin Asian Bistro and ate at the office.

The menu there has a Chinese food section and a Japanese food section and it’s huge. Large menus stress me out in much the same way as the cereal aisle at Market Basket, which gives me anxiety. There are too many options screaming for attention and it becomes overwhelming. When I’m hungry, like I was today when scrolling through the seemingly endless online menu, it’s worse. The headache that started pounding may have been from hunger, but it might also have been from the magnitude of the menu.

Teriyaki salmon bento box lunch.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had Chinese or Japanese food, or even what I used to like. There were combos and bento boxes and sushi and all manner of dishes. I finally narrowed it down to tofu pad Thai or a teriyaki salmon bento box. In the end, the variety offered by the bento box with its miso soup and salad won out. It was delicious. And filling. 

The volume of food was much more than I usually eat for lunch and I was uncomfortably full for the rest of the day, so much so that I skipped supper. 

Tonight's K-drama   fashion item.

Back at home, it was a dive back into Love Next Door, the Korean drama I recently started watching on Netflix. This one is set in current times and I am once again sucked into the fashions and the home furnishings. This one features food, and now I’ll be dying for bibimbap and scallion pancake and all the side dishes, and searching online for the hot pink bomber jacket and the oversized gray sweatshirt with studded swirls on the sleeves photographed off the TV after pausing the show. 

A potentially excessive number of photos in my phone are shots grabbed from K-dramas with clothing, food, artwork, and even doors seen in a show that I decided I need some day. Of course, some day isn’t actually a day of the week, so I should probably get busy on figuring out specifics. The food might be the easiest. Time to make a plan.

random thoughts – Day 1,637 – (Tuesday) – seasonal shifts

The summer seems to have picked up its toys and left the playground in the past few days, ready to give it all up for autumn. That viewpoint could be skewed by my not spending much time outside recently, or for most of the summer. And the tips of the tree limbs exhibiting red-leafed tips.

I'm unfortunately less tapped in to the outside temperature in digital readout since the home screen display on my phone has decided to change things up and no longer display the time and temperature. It happened last week around the same time I finally got the car dashboard cluster changed from Italian back to English, which required changing the radio panel setting from English to French and then back to English. Go figure. And thanks to whoever posted that trick on the Jeep Renegade Online Forum. Now I need the same for the phone. 

Much to the joy of my wallet, the house has been running comfortably without the A/C on and with windows open for a couple weeks. It’s been great sleeping with a bedroom window open a few inches and I haven’t woken up 100 times overnight like I did all summer. For the past two or three days, it’s even felt chilly when I got up. The thermostat read 67 degrees this morning with all downstairs windows closed. It might be a false start, but it seems like the seasons are changing over.

Glass cruet on a September morning.

It's dark earlier in the evening, and the light is different in the mornings, too. It’s darker when I get up, and the blinds need to be opened when I work in my little home office. 

This morning around 8:00 or a bit later, as I refilled my coffee mug while the computer did whatever it is that takes it forever to be operational each day, the angle of the sun was low and shining on the pressed glass salad dressing cruet that currently sits on the kitchen windowsill. It was kind of pretty, and I was glad to have noticed it. Sometimes I forget to pay attention and just charge through the days with blinders on. Other times, I am mindful enough to pause and admire the sun illuminating a cheap piece of glass that came with a salad dressing mix.

random thoughts – Day 1,636 – (Monday) – shoe quest

Originally posted September 24, 2011 and repeated today, just because. All these years later, some things haven't changed. I'm still not keen on shopping, and still default to thrift shops, they are just different shops in a different state.

One seemingly ordinary weekend afternoon, I went shopping, which was actually a bit out of the ordinary for me.  My girly-girl card may be confiscated and cut to pieces for this, but I generally don’t enjoy shopping. In fact, the word “detest” comes to mind. This may be shocking news to any who remember me from my recreational shopping days when I shopped three or four times a week. Back then, I was trying to get out of the house and away from a husband. I thought buying things would fill the emptiness in me. I know better now. 

For one thing, I know I already have far too much stuff. I could probably hang a banner outside my house and have enough clothing and housewares to run a little shop for a month or two. For another, beyond the quarterly pest treatments at the house and two random visits by the cute guy who used to live next door, I rarely have people over. This means there is no sense of needing to impress anyone. No need for the latest and greatest kitchen gadget, toothbrush holder, scented candle or hostess outfit. In the nearly four years I have lived in my house, I’ve had exactly two parties, so it’s not like I am competing for the Martha Stewart home entertainment award. Fact: New Year’s Eve 2011 will be the fourth anniversary of the same bottle of champagne living in the lower right bin of the refrigerator.

Given my absence of house guests, already excessive wardrobe, and lack of need concerning basic living accoutrements, why would I invest my precious time and risk the potential of being hypnotized by some retailer’s music system lulling me into the appropriate level stupor to shell out money I don’t have for things I don’t need?

Like I was saying, it was unusual that I was shopping. The place I was shopping, however, was completely usual for me -- Goodwill. People think I am kidding when I say it, but Goodwill is my first choice for shopping in Clarksville. Yes, the mall here is THAT pathetic and overstocked with disposable clothes clearly intended for one wearing as evidenced by their propensity to disintegrate in the washer the first time through. The TJ Maxx in Clarksville is the smallest I’ve seen in the five American cities resided in during my adult life. Since the flood of May 2010 there has been no Opry Mills with my beloved Gap and Nine West Outlet stores, so yes, shopping here stinks and I am almost exclusively a Goodwill gal.

This one particular day, I must have had a lot of time on my hands, because I was wandering all over the place, way beyond the usual skirts and tops for work section, and the “I don’t really need more jeans but these are cute and only $8” rack, and and even paid attention to the shoes, a category I tend to ignore because I already have some decent hookups for inexpensive shoes.

If you know me, you might have guessed that there is a tiny chance I have too many pairs of shoes to count. I have not figured out how to make the abacus go that high,  or maybe I just don’t want to know. The last time I took an inventory (many residential moves ago), I had 150 pairs of footwear (including specialty footwear like snow boots and hiking boots, but not counting super specialty footwear like ski boots). Family members vowed to never again help me move my household due to my excessive holdings of books, clothing and footwear. Ignorance may be bliss on this one, unless I can convert the unworn footwear to cold cash.

But there I was, cruising the shoe racks, when I spotted them. Amazing blue croc-textured shoes with squared toes, bearing a garish orange price tag proclaiming the price to be $5. It was a plunge into instant adoration. With me and retail, the lower the price, the deeper the love.  A wistful sigh escaped my lips. Or maybe it was a gasp. I stroked the uppers and examined the soles which were barely sullied by asphalt or gravel and still seemed perilously slippery. The pale gray, pristine insoles still had cushiony cushions. The black heels bore hardly a nick nor a scuff. I was swooning. Somehow, I tore myself away and walked halfway to the checkout to clear my head. Even from half a store away, I heard the shoes whisper my name.

And suddenly, a vision of a tall, handsome, muscular man in nicely fitting dark-dyed jeans and vintage-styled, hipster shirt burst into my head. This stunner of a man, worthy of a magazine cover and as yet unknown to me, was the perfect accessory for these shoes. I returned to the shoe rack. I snatched up the shoes.  As I walked to the checkout, clutching the shoes to my bosom, I imagined the dates I would go on with the the beautiful shoes and the handsome man I didn’t happen to know yet.  And I bought them.

Here’s the good part -- they are men’s shoes. Size 10. In my date fantasy, the handsome and charming imaginary prince is wearing the shoes. It will take a special guy to pull off wearing these shoes, and that is the guy I want.

So now I have a pair of shoes, but there is no man in my real life (yet) who can fill them. But I have an idea ... a quest!  A reverse Cinderella type thing. I will find the man who fits the shoes. Granted, it will be kind of weird asking men I only recently met what size shoe they wear, and they might get a little creeped out when I pull out my pair of blue men's shoes and ask them to put them on and walk around for me. Sure, some might think I am a total whack job. But think of the stories! I can chronicle my journey for the man to fill the shoes, they can tell their buddies about the nutcase running around with the blue shoes. Everybody wins! Especially me, when I find the right man to fill the shoes.