Juxtapose

...Get up every morning for a goodbye at the door, even when I can sleep in

...Let him buy sardines

...Make monkey noises and mime eating bananas to make him forget that I forgot to do that crucial thing that he told me not to forget to do

...Watch NASCAR

...Stop chewing on my nails

...Allow myself to be coerced into early Saturday-morning hunts for Nintendo Wii's

...Knot his tie for him because he still can't figure it out

...Rent Bubba Ho-Tep. And watch it.

...Refrain (sometimes, when I can help it) from telling him how to drive.

...Let him install new widgets and gidgets and extensions to my computer whenever he learns about an exciting new one on his forums.

...Listen to him sing the Indiana Jones theme song, first thing, upon waking up this morning at 610AM.

...Going to the theater at 1030 tonight with the most excited person ever to wait in line for the midnight showing of Indiana Jones.

Apparently, the summer census has officially kicked in at work and I have been canceled for the past two days. I was originally slated to work this past Sunday until Wednesday, have Thursday off, and then back on Friday. So far, I've worked Sunday and that's it.

So, being off for today, and with strict orders from Emvee not to "go zipping around in the car, using up expensive gas," I'm pondering the weightier issues in life. Like, should I cut my hair? Here are some pros and cons of cutting my hair:

Pros:

Easier to care for
Less time brushing (well, I guess I don't really brush it anyways now...)
Lower bobby pin budget
No more headaches from three feet of hair hanging off my head

Cons:

Can't do my signature updo that stays put all day
Boring, since everyone has short hair these days
Mum cries when she cuts my hair
Mark might not think I'm a babe anymore

Please weigh in with your comments and suggestions.

Thank you, God, for
soft skin
warm afghans,
the lilacs outside my
bb-gunned-down
window

Thank you, God, for
Magic Shell,
in-laws,
the family and its
dysfunction
(sometimes)

Thank you, God, for
lotion
that smells so good
like tangerines,
like
The Gap

Thank you, God, for
the raucous reckless
freckles
that dance
over Teddy's
nose

Thank you, God, for
scented candles,
tasty oregano,
and sunscreen
though
I never use it anyways

Thank you, God, for
praising hymns,
thumping bass,
the meager offering
of
money You already own.

Thank you, God, for
all good things
and for:
money love touch responsibility power happiness hearing sadness clothing pain possessions freedom family speech homes music sex sunshine security joy mobility beauty sight water comfort friendship art shelter appreciation safety warmth food and life

Thank you, God, for
giving,
and
or
taking away
at one moment's notice.

Blogging of the new millenium! Blogging from the iPod Touch! Woohoo! I'm still learning how to type on it but all is well. Happy early birthday to me!!!!!!

My coworker's husband died today, during her shift, while all the rest of us tried to concentrate on our work and listened to it happening as the two codes were called and his wife asked for them to stop it during the second time around.

Since he got home today, all I've done is breathe in Mark all day, my nose on his shirt, my arm linked with his own, feeling the scratchiness of his cheeks and the goatee he's too lazy to maintain these days. The little things.

We went tonight to unwind at the cinema to be the ultimate hipsters - we went to the This American Life simulcast that was showing tonight at our local theater (the next closest was Boston). There, amongst aging hippies, bowtie-wearing liberal gonzo types, and the young, urban hipsters with impeccable hair, we watched and laughed and listened to some good storytelling. We got our money's worth out of tickets that were unexpectedly more expensive than we envisioned them to be, that's for sure.

And then we were home, burgers in our bellies and enjoying my favorite place to be, my comfy futon, the afghan from Yiayia's house cuddled around my chilly toes. These are the things I try to say that never come out the way I want them to. Life is like this for me: ordinary, but my favorite kind of ordinary.