The one where Lisa is weird

I started making a list with my friend Elise about all the ways I'm weird. It's gotten embarrassingly long (and I doubt this list is exhaustive), but what the hell - I'll post it anyway in the hopes that some of you will chime in and tell me you do this stuff too and therefore I'm not so weird after all. Either that or I'll have to become a hermit in the Andes for the next 40 years. Anyway...

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My food cannot touch. Especially if there's any kind of sauce - I'll leave half the plate empty to spare my veggies the horror of gravy from my mashed potatoes contaminating them. At a restaurant I'll rearrange items so that they're no longer touching before I start eating. I will never understand how people can pile food up on their plate all touchy-touchy at a buffet.

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I eat sandwiches/burgers/toast in a rotating manner so the center is consumed last. AS IT SHOULD BE.

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If I'm wearing shoes with laces, they must be tied in the exact same tightness on both feet. I feel lopsided otherwise.

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I cannot get in bed if the sheets are messed up. I will actually make the bed before I climb in at night if it didn't happen in the morning.

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If I eat a multicolored candy like M&Ms, I'll mentally count how many there are of each color, then eat the ones that I have extras of until each color group has an even number. Then I rotate through them, eating one candy of each color until they're all gone.

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I count things all.the.time. It's not an OCD thing (I don't have to do it), more like something to keep my mind occupied while I'm walking - but if I'm by myself I'll mentally count the number of stairs I go up, the number of photos on the wall, etc.

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If I'm in a bathroom with a closed shower curtain, I have to check behind it to make sure there isn't an axe murderer hiding in the bathtub. This probably explains why I only have glass doors on the showers in my home.

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Speaking of showers, when I wash and rinse my hair, I don't close my eyes. I just tilt my head back and watch the doorway, lest the axe murderer sneaks in while my eyes are closed and waits until I open them again before striking. Which of course doesn't make sense - why would they wait to attack until I was watching? - but that's how it is in my head, m'kay?

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Before I go to bed, I have to check twice to make sure all of the doors are locked. I blame this one on Ben though, who has left them unlocked overnight on more than one occasion. That axe murderer I've been talking about? It's totally Ben's fault if he gets in.

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I play out incredibly elaborate alternate reality scenarios in my head. Sometimes if there's a funny bit, I'll giggle out loud.

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You guys already know about some of my bathroom issues. I also get really annoyed if I'm in a public restroom and someone takes the cubicle next to mine when there are plenty of others available- leave a courtesy space, dammit!

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Don't leave me hanging - tell me I'm not alone, or I'll have to book a ticket to Bolivia and pick out a nice cave for my hermit-ing.

Project 365: 8 weeks down. 44 to go.

You know what to do by now - clicky for larger images:

My goal for the next two weeks: pull back. I tend to gravitate toward single objects and details, and while those are beautiful, taking wider scope photos like landscapes requires a whole different kind of skill (and between you and me, I'm not sure I have it).

Fun with hats

Brought to you by Dash:

And Will:

And Will's hand:

Gotta love those pudgy little starfish fingers!

Overexposed

The theme this week on Project365 is "overexposed"...good thing my photography tends to lean toward that direction anyway, eh?

Also a good thing that I live within walking distance of a paddock full of friendly horses or this would probably be a much more boring shot.

A different kind of blog love

I recently discovered this blog, written by someone who is taking part in a local Biggest Loser type of competition. Today, I read this in one of her posts:

I’ve learned to like my body for the first time in….well, ever. I’ve always been ashamed of it, mad at it, humiliated by it. And now, happily, I am PROUD of it. It can do things I never thought possible. It can climb 24 flights of stairs and pull a 230-pound punching bag (including my trainer sitting on it) across the gym countless times. It can do 30+ pushups in a minute and it is even starting to be able to run. It feels incredible.

This will sound lame, but it made me tear up a little. Because you know what? She's right about what she's accomplished, and she should be proud of what her body - however imperfect - can do.

As we all know, I had twins last year. And although I love them beyond belief, the changes to my body were pretty drastic and I have some fairly severe body image issues as a result. And I have a hard time being proud of my body now, especially since no amount of working out can correct some of these problems.

But I should be proud.

My body carried and gave birth to two big, healthy babies. My legs take tens of thousands of steps and carry me up and down stairs a hundred times a day without fail. My arms lift and hold my heavy sons at home and large books at work for hours at a time without tiring. It's nowhere near my ideal weight, but it has a toughness and strength and stamina that I never would have suspected.

So I just want to say thanks to Kristen, because she's right. And because I should be more proud of my body than I have been. And that's going to change.

A Spider Story

As I stepped outside this evening to take my photo of the day, I discovered a large, perfect spiderweb in the bushes directly outside our front door.

I paused to admire it in the setting sunlight. It really was perfect.

Then I noticed the detritus caught up in the web: a dandelion and a dried leaf. "Hmm," I thought to myself, "This spider isn't a very good housekeeper."

Then I took a better look at the leaf, which seemed to have an unusual number of stems. And realized that the superfluous stems were actually long, pointy, tappity, horrible spider legs.

Clearly this was a dead giveaway of its devious plan to lie in wait while concealed in a dried leaf, just waiting for the opportunity to spring out and eat my entire face. So I took a few photos, then called Ben out of the house to kill the damn thing.*

The End.

* I usually don't bother spiders if they're outside, but right in front of my door? Sorry, Charlotte - the deal's off.

Project 365: 6 weeks down. 46 to go.

A little behind on this post, sorry - two sick kids will do that to you. Enough with my excuses - on with the thumbnails! (You know the drill - click 'em for larger images.)

It's a mixed bag again. Some nice, some uninspired, some where you could clearly tell I got to the ohshitit's8pmwhatamIgoingtophotographtoday moment.

This week (Cliff Notes version)

* I'm reading this series right now. I'm not normally into fantasy (made up names make me crazy), but this is pretty good. 

* If you happen to have some spare change lying around, can you buy me one of these? I'm not normally a Ferrari lover, but that is a big load of HELL YES right there. Who cares that it's been officially recalled for bursting into flames? (YES. BURSTING. INTO. FLAMES.) It's a stylish way to die.

* While you're buying me things, how about these pretty pretty pretty books? And maybe a copy of Lisa in Wonderland?

* I saw RuPaul's Drag Race for the first time tonight. How have I lived until now???

Fun with books

I stumbled across this Penguin paperback from the early 1970s while weeding some books at the library today. The topic is dull as dust, but I'm digging the groovy tab design on the front cover:

And there's a matching back:

Kinda cool, no? Pity it's a 40 year old snooze-fest or I'd read it just based on the cover.

Gluttony

After I recovered from The Worse Stomach Flu of All Time, Ben was anxious to give me my delayed birthday present. Which was this:

I could lick the screen right now.

OK, I know sushi doesn't seem like that big of a deal. But I love sushi. LOVE. With flowers and punk puffy paint hearts.  

And the thing is, you can't get sushi in my neck of the woods - nor would you want to, since the fish wouldn't exactly be ocean fresh by the time it reached the restaurant. So my loving husband, determined to give me my favorite meal for my 30th birthday, set out to find out if there was a reputable place that served sushi within a 100 mile radius. And you know what? There is.

Let's be realistic - it's a tiny Japanese restaurant in an Australian mountain range. It wasn't going to rival Morimoto. But compared to what restaurant owners usually try to pass off as sushi in my region (canned tuna, anyone?) it was heaven.

At the end of the meal, I could barely walk.

It was SO worth it.

I was going to write a post...

...but it's just too damn hot - it's 9pm and about a million degrees outside.

Well OK, not a million.

More like 1.5 million, but I didn't want you to think I was exaggerating.

Look at me. I can't even write in proper paragraphs. Or sentences. Clearly my meltdown into a puddle of grease is imminent.

I HATE YOU, SUMMER. I HAAAAATE YOUUUUUU.