Aside from my taut muscular temples, I have nothing going for me today.
The day started in the normal way for a Saturday. Wanted to go to the Farmer’s Market, but didn’t. That’s a reoccurring theme. I just shouldn’t plan to go, as I’ve gone exactly ONCE this entire summer. It just sets up the day on a down note.
We started out the morning with the intent that we would go out and get breakfast and then go to the farmer’s market and then maybe to Sam’s again. We went out to our favorite little diner for pancakes and other breakfast type fair. Then I wandered into a neighboring baking supply store because I am feeling a little Martha Stewartesque and have need of cookie cutters to be the embodiment of domestic simplicity that harkens the beginning of fall. Nothing like a little nesting instinct to start your day off right.
I ended up with some lovely leaf-shaped cookie cutters… an oak leaf, a maple leaf, a little curvy leaf and a generic leaf shape. I intend to make cookies which are frosted in fall colors. That is sufficiently “A Good Thing” for me.
Then it was 11:18 am. Farmer’s Market is done by noon, so we skipped it and headed to Sam’s Club instead. There we spent way too much money on way too little stuff. I hate going there. I end up spending $150 and walking out with ten items. You don’t get a lot there but you get a lot of what you get. That’s the only way I can explain it. Plus, you must also wait in The Line of Unending Agony to check out. They have thousands of people on Saturday mornings, yet only four narcoleptic cashiers. I got some chicken breasts, some fresh salmon (boneless and skinless, WHOOOOHOOOO!!!), 96 loads worth of laundry soap, 40 pounds of cat litter, the DVD of “The X-men”, as we’re going to give our VHS copy to my little brother, some more Ghiradelli brownie mix (mmmmmmmmmmmmm), 10 pounds of white rice, and a purse. After my current purse’s cavernous compartment taunted me when I lost my keys, I have utter scorn for it. I dropped $40 on a new one at Sam’s. It wouldn’t have been a bad deal, but it came in a six-pack.
Oh, and we also had to get the fourth “Harry Potter” book. You see, originally, I bought all four books for my little brother and then borrowed them back to read them myself. I kept them too long and he took back #2 and #4 (because I had misplaced #1 and #3 and told him I’d give them to him later). Then I started rereading #1 and Esteban did as well. I went out and purchased #2 in paperback and then went on to read Jonathon’s #3. Esteban wanted to just buy #4, but I didn’t want to buy it until it came out in paperback, opting to borrow Jonathon’s back, in exchange for #1 and #3. But Esteban couldn’t wait that long. Yep. Book crack, that’s what Harry Potter is. Utter book crack.
Then we got home and I had a hankering for a peanut butter sandwich on Wonder bread. Yes. I know we had just spent $150 at Sam’s on “groceries” but there was still nothing I wanted to eat (except for the salmon, which is marinating for 48 hours for Monday’s din-din). Thus, I went grocery shopping. Again.
The sky had a strange grey ceiling of clouds. It was not especially warm, yet it was intensely humid and there was a hot wind blowing. That says nothing but unstable air. I got to the grocery store and spent another $80.
Oh, and I saw our local television station’s meteorologist in the dairy department and then later, arguing with his wife about which kind of snack cracker to get… Cheese-Its or Nips. He looks like a leprachaun.
Meanwhile, back at Rancho Weetabix, Esteban had ensconced himself on our recliner with Harry Potter. He’s so whipped by that book.
I returned and made myself a ham and garlic salami sandwich on a sourdough brioche (yes, I know I was originally hungry for peanut butter, but I am an enigma!) and watched “Bring It On” for the seventh time.
It rocked. As always.
Esteban was driven from the living room by the cheering. Grumbling, he returned to his computer room ostensibly to continue to work on an article.
“This is not a democracy… it’s a cheerocracy!” I shouted after him.
Oh, and while we were coming home from breakfast, I was taking a drink of soda and Esteban purposely bumped my head forward so that I’d spill soda all down my shirt. Then he laughed so hard he had tears streaming down his cheeks and had to stop the car for a minute.
Sometimes I swear I’m living with my brother.
And people say I’m the one who’s hard to live with????
Ha!
Man. That was a boring entry. Blech.
Blecccccccccchhhh!!!!!!!!
I guess I’m not giving good diary today. It’s very weird outside and it’s putting me all off. Oh well. Maybe later.
I am the poo… take a whiff.
