There is a sale at Old Navy today. 40% off all baby, kids and toddler clothes. I drove past one after my lunch meeting and it was as if the signs were begging me to come in.
“Please, just for a minute. We promise, no hassling you, we just want you to come in and look. Browse…..nothing more.”
And then the contents my bank account quickly slipped in to their cash register.
Now, who can I beg to tell my husband? There may be a 3T sized hoodie-dress in it for you!
Today Lucy comes home from an extended holiday vacation with her Grammy. Not having her around for a few days has been just plain weird. Weird because we’re going on with our everyday lives, but she isn’t in them (except via phone) and weird because I’m starting to see a bit of what my life would be like if the pill hadn’t failed three years ago. Here are my conclusions:
– Thank effing God that pill failed three years ago!
– I should make more of an effort to go to live concerts
– If you talk to people, they usually respond pleasantly
– My husband and I would have very little in common without Lu
– My job would be much harder if I went out drinking during the week
– I need more local friends
– Local radio celebrities that are forced to hang out with you for three plus hours do not count as friends
– Lucy gives my life a purpose that it would be empty without
– Life is good
Now I will return to counting down the moments until I can once again spend my evenings in bed watching Finding Nemo instead of rocking out at a Republic Tigers concert. All will be normal again soon.
This morning, while on my way to a meeting in my hometown, I heard two local radio DJ’s bantering (questionable) about topics that were all over the news this weekend. Some exerpts:
“They got really lucky with Gustav. I mean, I don’t think they were recovered from…..that other one…..what was it? Oh…Katrina!”
“I thought it was going to be party city over at Obama headquarters, but they’re right, it doesn’t really matter that her [17-year-old] daughter’s pregnant. I mean, what does that have to do with her politics?”
And then a very fat man drove by me, on the highway, on a motor scooter. I love Kansas.
I’m usually pretty wary of online quizzes or anything of that persuasion, but sometimes you just want to find out how much you are like Mikhail Gorbachev.
I’ve taken the Jung personality test twice in two days, to see if my result would be different. And although I remained in the same main group each time, I did change my subgroup. The first time I took the test, I was labled in the Idealist Category as a Teacher, along with my good buddies Mikhail and Oprah. Some descriptions of this type were very me, like this:
Teachers like things settled and organized, and will schedule their work hours and social engagements well ahead of time-and they are absolutely trustworthy in honoring these commitments.
But other parts didn’t seem too similar, like this:
Warmly outgoing, and perhaps the most expressive of all the types, Teachers are remarkably good with language, especially when communicating in speech, face to face. And they do not hesitate to speak out and let their feelings be known. Bubbling with enthusiasm, Teachers will voice their passions with dramatic flourish, and can, with practice, become charismatic public speakers.
Yeah, um, public speaking….not so much. Dramatic flourish? I don’t think I could flourish anything dramatically unless I’d taken a few shots of vodka. Then, bring on the dramatics, baby!
I actually only retook the test because I was a dummy and didn’t save the link to the type descriptions, so I had to take it again to get to them. This time I was scored as an Idealist Counselor instead of a Teacher. This one was way more representative of me:
Counselors are scarce, little more than one percent of the population, and can be hard to get to know, since they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise.
Now, you’re probably thinking, “Megan, you tell us every damn thought you have on a daily basis on this blog. I wouldn’t call you ‘highly private.'” To that, I say:
Blessed with vivid imaginations, Counselors are often seen as the most poetical of all the types, and in fact they use a lot of poetic imagery in their everyday language. Their great talent for language-both written and spoken-is usually directed toward communicating with people in a personalized way.
Do I have any idea what that means? Well, apparently it means I’m like Ghandi, so I have that going for me.
What do you think? Does the test work? Am I full of crap and more like Tara Reid than Ghandi? What is your personality type?
What I’ve been up to this past week:
– Swimming in 40 degree weather
– Soaking in a hot-tub that has a built in lounge chair
– Taking photos in an old time photo booth
– Losing at Scrabble
– Cosmic bowling
– Watching Olympic sports I didn’t know existed in HD
– Riding horses through the mountains
– Eating everything under the sun
– Visiting the waterfall that is on the Coors Beer commercials
– Attempting to keep up with Trent’s “outdoorsy” family
– Failing miserably at keeping up with Trent’s outdoorsy family
– Drinking beer, lots and lots of beer
– Consequently, gaining 10 pounds
– Taking lots of photos, though many less then my sister-in-law who is a photo taking machine
– Attempting to dunk a basketball
– Avoiding the Internet
I’ll be back in full force by the end of the week. Hopefully by then the stabbing pain in my poor, city gal body will have subsided and I’ll be able to form coherent sentences. Small hint, when family members who canoe through the Artic circle on a regular basis ask you to join them in any outdoor activity, abstain or bring lots of Advil.
