Thursday, October 28, 2010

My ideas are wasted on the logical minimalist I live with.

Me: [sitting on the couch thinking about shower curtains]

Chris: [sitting on the couch thinking about things that are not shower curtains]

Me: It just occurred to me—I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before!

Chris: What?

Me: To find the right shower curtain, we should be doing what the consultants do on Say Yes to the Dress!

Chris: I don’t know what they do.

Me: The very first thing they ask a bride, before discussing necklines, beading or price point, is, “How do you want to look on your wedding day?”

Chris: ….

Me: So instead of just trying to find a non-ugly shower curtain we both don’t hate, we need to first ask ourselves, how do we want our bathroom to feel?

Chris: ….

Me: I’ll go first. I want our bathroom to feel…rustic. Soft. Dreamy and calm.

Chris: [laughing] That’s not what I want the bathroom to be like!

Me: [trying to keep an open mind] Okay, what do you want the bathroom to be like?

Chris: [thinking about our bathroom, as if for the first time] A bathroom. I want to not be confused about where I am.

Me: [face-palm combined with deep, internal sigh. and maybe an eye roll. and some frustrated screams.]

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

to make up for the lack of photos here

Did you know Chris has a tumblr, and that his posts consist almost exclusively of photos? We are like the yin and yang of blogging.

A couple weekends ago we went to the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival at Golden Gate Park. It was crowded and freezing, and in order to have a decent seat/view we would have had to set up camp that morning, apparently, but thanks to a kind gentleman and his cooler, I was able to watch Conor Oberst perform the very last song of his set (it was one of my favorites). Chris documented the moment for us all.

I felt kind of silly standing on a cooler peeking through the fence, but I'm really glad I did it. I listen to these two albums all the time and love them with a fierce and emo devotion, but I'd never actually seen Conor Oberst before, so I was confused by the small guy with the mop of brown hair, bopping around the stage. Where's the tall, nearly anorexic Conor Oberst with the greasy, dirty blond hair? Oh, I made him up? Hm. This is going to take a bit of adjustment. (Kind of like the first time I saw Ira Glass.)

Thankfully, we snagged a patch of grass on the outskirts for the Gillian Welch concert--otherwise, I would have had to plop down right in the middle of the sidewalk because my feet were killing me, and we had only just gotten there. Chris is the Gillian Welch fan, but it was a really good show, and we had fun sitting there eating our beignets and people-watching while freezing our butts off.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Internet, meet weird uber-Christian Amy Boss

Guys, you are in for a treat today.

A few days ago I spent a good chunk of time weeding through my many, many plastic bins of keepsakes. (Side note: Kind of funny how predominantly the saving of sex for marriage featured into my middle and high school life. I found like five of those True Love Waits commitment cards as well as evidence that I attended multiple(!) Joshua Harris conferences. I was serious about not being a hussy.)

Anyway, I found this one random little journal with only six pages filled out. I don’t recall naming my journals, but apparently I had high hopes for this one, because I titled it “Secret Secrets.” Here are two sweet morsels of Amy Boss goodness:

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June 28, 1997

My Secret Summer Dream

My secret summer dream is to find a guy that is just perfect. One that is spiritually mature (maybe more than me), has the same standards as me, looks really good, is tall, goes to Cypress Creek, and wants to go out with me/get to know me better. That’s not too much to ask, now is it? Oh, and one more thing; he has to be hilariously funny, and not desperate. Added on 11/27/98: And outgoing. Fun!!!

11/27/98

My Secret Senior Dream

To have a date to prom. I want to be asked by someone (preferably someone who goes to CCHS) who does not booty-dance, and I want all the plans to run smoothly. Not smoothly; but just comfortably—no awkward moments, you know?

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Who is this nerd? Spoiler: No one asked weird, non booty-dancing Amy to prom. Maybe if I’d spent more time getting to know people with different “standards” than me and less time talking to my journal, my Secret Senior Dream would have come true.

Thankfully, there’s a happy end to all the pathetic weirdness: I did indeed find a tall, good-looking guy, although not in time for prom. But he is hilariously funny, and I think he wants to get to know me better. I’ll let you know how it turns out!