Yesterday I wrote almost an entire entry and then I carefully selected all and hit delete. It was a slightly ranty entry on censoring the blog and dating or not dating or why I've thrown my hat back in the dating ring. It was boring. This is boring. Everything is boring. Look! I've channeled my inner sixteen year old angsty self to tell you that everything is BORING. And I even have a giant pimple on my nose. These days it seems like all I post are Love Thursday and Thankful Friday entries. But really, that's all I've got. No one wants to hear about my chore list or what I had for dinner. Those things bore me. Why would I put you through that too? See? I care. Notice how chore and bore are rhyming words? There's something to that. So...when writing the blog starts turning into a boring chore (which...sometimes that happens) I know that it's time for one of a few things. I can either just set it aside and be really quiet for a bit or I can tell you a bunch of random, nonsensical stories. Personally, I think it's more of a challenge to sit down and write out the random stories. I've never taken the easy way out of anything. A few nights ago I had a dream that I was in Chicago for BlogHer. A group of us had ventured out to visit a museum which doesn't seem all that unusual (my dreams are boring). I think we were visiting the National History Museum. The unusual part of all of this was the new exhibit the museum had just opened. It was a weird kind of roller coaster that jankily traveled straight for bit and then would drop several feet, travel straight, drop, travel straight and then drop until eventually you were at ground level. The ride was all the talk and had even had a "making of" special on the Discovery Channel and PBS. The ride was supposed to represent the various stages animals go through as they go to slaughter. It was horrifying and visceral and I was really excited to experience it. And I was a little disappointed to wake up before I got to ride it. Usually when I tell people the reason I don't eat meat, I tell them it's because I feel better physically when I'm not eating meat. But after that dream, I think I'll start adding that I feel better physically and mentally when I'm not eating meat.
The Canadian geese have been behaving a little weird around here. The other day, I looked out my fourth story window and could see the silhouette of a goose sitting on the ledge of the building across the street from us. At eye level. Now I know geese can fly and all that, but I have never seen them perch high up on top of buildings along with the pigeons. This morning I could hear them honking as I walked up the east stairwell. They were so loud that I thought they were inside. When I peaked out the window between the railing I could see two geese on the ledge of our patio. I don't know what they were talking to each other about, but it sounded more like arguing than talking. Later in the morning you could find one of them perched on the roof while the other paced back and forth on the ledge a few levels below. I wonder if they've nested somewhere on our building. That seems dangerous. What happens if a little goose falls out of the nest? Don't water fowl tend to learn to swim before they learn to fly? I also think it's just strange to see such a large bird perched on top of a tall building. The image is prehistoric modern and sends chills down my spine.
I want to wear wild crazy shoes to Amy's wedding. They have to match my mint green dress, but I still want something unusual. I want to wear shoes that you would normally never see me in. When Mom was here, we looked at shoes at one of those shoe warehouse like places. I found a pair of crazy tall wedges that had all the shades of green zigzagged along the sides. I'd never even tried on shoes that tall before. I used to joke around with mom when ever she'd take me shoe shopping. I'd do this thing where I'd pick out the ugliest/craziest/wildest shoe and look at her say "what about these?". I did it because it was funny but also because I knew that it drove her crazy. It doesn't drive her crazy any more, but I still do it because it's funny. We have a good laugh over the ridiculous shoe and then move on. But this time, instead of just holding up the shoe, I actually put them on my feet. The shoes put me about three to four inches off the ground. Add that to my current height of 5'7 and my long legs. It was like watching a brand new baby foal stumble around on her legs for the first time except not as cute. I did get several compliments though as I practiced my runway walk and if they'd been the right shade of green I probably would have bought them. Alas, I am still on the hunt for some crazy mint green (like) shoes.