Me time

The Smelmooo is off on a semi-annual guys' trip today, so I'm flying solo at home. My sister invited me to spend the day with her at the shore, and I had just a brief pang of regret about declining as this beautifully warm, sunny day unfolded before me. But I am feeling ridiculously content at the tail end of a lovely weekend.

I've watched snippets of movies that I can't helping watching as I flip past: Sixteen Candles, The Devil Wears Prada, Dave, An American Tail, 13 Going on 30. And this morning, a late-era 90210 where Donna gets attacked by a serial rapist, Andrea is whoring it up even though she's married to Jesse, and the Flaming Lips performed at the Peach Pit After Dark. I had totally blocked all of this out; I was much more enthusiastic about the Brenda years.

Yesterday, I got a pedicure, which was a huge, huge treat, especially because my feet were completely ripped up when I got there, owing to my serious lack of judgment earlier in the week, when I went on a 40-minute walking meeting while wearing inappropriate footwear. I realized that I tend to make this mistake during National Spelling Bee season. Anyway, even though I still have some yucky blister remnants on my toes, the bottoms of my feet are smooth and happy, and my toenails are beautifully cut and polished in a color called Thigh High. Which was almost identical to a shade called I'm Not a Waitress, but I resonated more with Thigh High.

It was my first pedicure in three-and-a-half years (I got three the year I got married, and that'd been it for my lifetime), but now I may be hooked, especially because the place where S and I went had these awesome massaging chairs where we sat while our toes dried; they reclined all the way back, and I nearly fell asleep, I was so comfy and relaxed.

The other thing I had not done in forever, probably in seven or eight years, was buy new sports bras, and the girls were aching for me to get some new ones. I was startled to discover yesterday that they no longer seem to make my preferred bras, which I thought were fairly standard cotton numbers. But nooooooooooooo, now it's all about the wicking material, and I've discovered that I am not a fan. It's not nearly as comfortable as cotton, and it was just as sweat-soaked after my run this morning. Blech. Suggestions welcome if anyone has recommendations here.

And, to round out the conspicuous consumption for the weekend, I got new running shoes today, Mizuno Wave Riders, which are possible identical to Minnams's running shoes, but I don't really care because we never exercise together. As the Smelmooo can attest, I hate, hate, hate buying sneakers, because I generally think they're really ugly, and sometimes I just make up my mind that every option in the store is ugly, and then I'm just done -- there is no appeasing me. But I was excited about the Mizunos, because I am convinced -- we'll see whether correctly or not -- that they'll be better for my feet and shins and knees and back than my Asics or New Balances; I completely -- fairly or not -- blame my Asics for my recent foot problems. Because, you know, clearly it can't have anything to with me.

So, soon enough, the beach, because we seem to have skipped spring altogether, except for a week or so in early April that led right back to wintry weather, and to be be in the thick of summer already.

And, wow. Holy crap. I just realized it's June 1st, which means I have been working at the same organization for nine years. Nine. That's a whole nother blog entry. Yeesh.