There is little nerdier than taking a photo of your flight status on an airplane, but I am too excited not to try to capture every moment. I’ll be in Italy by this afternoon and first order of business is going to be pizza. Or maybe pasta. Wine?
But wait: I better get some German chocolate in Munich. Beer?
This song is my day:
Thanks to the tireless planning and trickiness of my mom and sister, we pulled off a successful surprise birthday party for my dad! Allie bought a house the day before, so I pretended to be flying in to South Dakota last minute from Albuquerque to help them move (which, btw, I did – I’m a master at tetrising boxes into place!) but I was actually there for the surprise the following day.
My aunts and grandma wrote a song that we all sang to him to the tune of “You’ll have to speak up, I’ve got beans in my ears”… Okay, I can’t be the only one who had NO idea what that song was, but I guess my grandma sang it to her kids when they were young so we got some serious nostalgia going.
Happy 60th, Dad!
Mmmmm, does anyone else have the happiest high school memories of afternoons curled up with a giant bag of Gardetto’s? I was reminiscing about them with Christopher’s mom, Lauretta, and lo and behold, what does she send in the mail a couple weeks later? My very own giant bag. What a delicious surprise. 😍
She also sent an Italy guidebook to prepare me for my upcoming vacay. Has anyone been there? What should I see?
I’m feeling sad about the senseless loss of life around the world from these latest terrorist attacks. To those suffering: I acknowledge your pain.
My office has been closed for renovations for a few weeks now, so I and the rest of the staff have been working from our home offices. As anyone would, I’ve let my daily wardrobe take a bit of a slide. Or perhaps more than a bit.
Yesterday I’m walking through Columbia Heights and come upon a man asking passersby for money. Every person who walks by, “Excuse me, ma’am, do you have any change?” “Excuse me, sir, do you have any change?” Okay, nbd, I’m approaching but know I don’t have any cash on me so I’m ready to respond as such.
As I stroll by, he looks me up and down, makes a slightly DISDAINFUL FACE, and turns to the woman behind me and asks her instead! I got skipped! I can only assume he thought I was homeless, too, and thus an untappable resource. I went home and washed my hair.
I just made a quick trip back to South Dakota, pheasant capital of the world. ‘Pheasant capital’ means there are loads and loads and loads ripe for the killing. “Please! Come kill things here!” South Dakota begs you.
I have to admit that this doesn’t bother me as much as you might expect, even though I 100% don’t see how killing animals is fun. I think it’s because I know hunters eat the pheasants they shoot and those pheasants got to live a nice, wild life while it lasted. Not my favorite, but not factory farming by a long shot.
I was chilling with my sister’s little boy Behren and we decided to do a radio interview. He likes pigs, mac and cheese, and Jack Johnson. I had been debating who I should interview first for a long time, and his subjects of choice seemed the most aligned with my own, so I went with him.
We had a little bit of dead air in there, but we’re both learning here.