Shopping list
Kusa dogwood x 3 for planting in front of house
Star magnolia
142 feet of fencing material
I fear I shall have to visit at least four nurseries and Home Depot today in order to do some price comparison. Aw, shucks.
Also, can I just complain for a minute about how ridiculous it is to pay an application fee ($25) and a permit fee (which isn’t listed) to put up a fence? Effing gov’t.
This is the 9mm handgun. I am not a fan, but I do like the look of double-0 Husband.
Matt nailed it, but I never did hit the moving target, a can filled with sand that we threw into the air. In the second picture, you can see how close I came — that speck to the left of the tin can? That’s my shot. This was a 12-gauge shotgun which was probably my favorite (in spite of the fact that its stock was built for a man a foot taller than me; if I look a little awkward holding it, that’s because I was).
This is the .22 rifle. We shot the hell out of a couple tin cans. Fun.
.243 rifle (I think) with a scope. I exploded a gallon jug of water and learned a healthy respect for the power these guns have.
The target before we got out the shotgun and sprayed it. The tape covers older bullet holes made with the .22 and the .243. We were pretty accurate.
What it looked like at the end. You can’t really tell unless you see the larger image, but the box is peppered with birdshot.I feel the need to tell more about meeting Anne Waldman in the women’s bathroom. Because it’s not quite as neat as I might’ve let on in the first reference. And, okay, fine, because I also hope that Anne Waldman Googles herself and finds out the truth of what happened in the bathroom. ALL WAS NOT AS IT SEEMED.
So I enter the bathroom on a coffee-induced, bladder-relief mission, and on my way to the only empty stall, I see Anne Waldman washing her hands. I try, rather unsuccessfully, not to stare, but it’s Anne Waldman! I get to my stall and barely notice that the person before me didn’t flush. The toilet’s contents weren’t gross so I didn’t think too much of it; instead, I was mostly trying not to think about how Anne Waldman might be listening to me pee. (I have a bit of a phobia about public restrooms, one that I’ve [mercifully] kept mostly to myself lo these many years. You’re welcome.) I finished quickly and left, and the toilet (an automatic kind) flushed as I unlocked the stall door. Two more women were in line, and one went into my stall.
I began washing my hands NEXT TO ANNE WALDMAN, who was now applying makeup for her presentation that I was planning to attend. Planning to attend, that is, until the woman who’d taken my stall comes back out, looks directly at me, and says to the other woman in line, “That toilet is about to overflow.”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I had no idea what to say or do. “It wasn’t…. I didn’t…” I sputtered, but the damage was done: Anne Waldman glanced at me and it was clear that she thought I was nothing more or less than a woman who’d clogged a public toilet.
Oh Anne, if you ever Google yourself and end up here, please know that all I did was pee. I swear. And then I was too embarrassed to show my face at your presentation, and instead went to a different one where the first presenter was crucified and the other went point-by-point through his syllabus and I’ve regretted it ever since. BECAUSE YOU’RE ANNE WALDMAN AND YOU HAVE THIS EFFECT ON PEOPLE.
Faulty reasoning No. 1: Our local airport is tiny and I don’t need to get there more than half an hour before the flight leaves. Nope, they shut down the counter and the kiosk thirty minutes before the flight leaves. I pled my case to the TSA screeners and, after giving me the runaround about keep trying the kiosk, wait until the plane leaves and a rep will open the counter again, and by the way they don’t work for the airline (“I know!” I said, “but there’s no one else and the agent is standing just around the corner from you!“), etc., one of the screeners asked my name and briefly disappeared around said corner. He reappeared, told me to stay where I was, and went into the back. He returned with a boarding pass and baby, no one has ever gone through security as quickly as I did. Bless his heart. As I was going through he mumbled to me, “Be really careful for the rest of the day ’cause your guardian angel has cashed it all in for you.” OH I WILL.
Faulty reasoning No. 2: Airports would have free WiFi. Well, yes, the local airport did, which was useless to me in my panicking about getting on my flight. But not SEA, not SFO. Seriously, people. Are we in the twenty-first century or not? All that work I was going to do? I didn’t.
Faulty reasoning No. 3: Waiting an hour in SFO wouldn’t be that big of a deal, as long as my convention roommates’ planes are on time. Right, well, two and a half hours later…
Faulty reasoning No. 4: Almost having a master’s degree suggests some kind of smarts. We finally got on the BART (BART? the BART? and do I really have to capitalize it?) after someone had to talk me through the fucking ticket barrier. Making me (1) operate a piece of machinery in order to get a piece of paper that you (2) put in another piece of machinery in order to (3) get on a third piece of machinery is really beyond my capabilities.
Smart reasoning No. Only: Taking a backpack in lieu of a suitcase because there are, like hills in San Francisco, right? Fuck yes.
Because it would be poor form to enthuse over my upcoming European vacation, I plan to do exactly that for the next couple months. Mmm. London and Greece.
To get you all in the green, jealous mood, I present a few photos that I have carelessly ripped from the Interwebs. In the meantime, if you have experience in Athens, the Meteora (and the road between those two), and/or Sifnos, feel free to share.
I feel it’s important to not just make decisions, but to continually reevaluate them and make sure they are still relevant. So I’m revising my List to reflect current conditions. And also because I’m bored, and Daniel Craig walked onstage just now. Wow.
The List
Daniel Craig
Clive Owen
Mr. Darcy
Will Smith
Tom Brady
I would bet a hundred dollars that all my readers* saw this title in their RSS feed thingy and thought, Hey, it’s another snarky post from Chelfea.
HA HA, SUCKERS
The truth is, although my stress level is through the roof and my eye won’t stop twitching and sleep? what is this “sleep”?, conferencing with my students today is pure joy. I love that they care, and that they’re dedicated to getting better. They make teaching so much better.
*all two of you
Ticket prices were headed up so we booked. Will be gone for ten days with a one-day layover in London to see friends.
DID I MENTION WE ARE GOING TO GREECE? WE ARE GOING TO GREECE!
