I think I have a problem. I eat too much. More specifically I eat too much Asian food. More specifically than that I eat too much Saigon Tokyo. Going even further with the specifics I eat too much sushi. And not raw fish sushi. More like veggie maki rolls and shrimp tempura rolls. I also really enjoy Thai food and sticky rice. It actually reaches the point if I order pineapple fried rice, I also order sticky rice.
You may also notice there are a bunch of chopsticks in this photo. The reason being that when I pick up the food orders they must think I have ordered for four people. Last night the girl at Saigon Tokyo was like “you ordered a lot. that’s a lot of sushi.” Whatever lady.
I used to be a person who loved fortune cookies. I truly believed that the fortune I opened was meant for me and what was written inside was a sign of things to come. I once received a fortune cookie book where I could paste all of my fortunes in there to keep forever so I would bring them home from the restaurant and put them in my wallet only to clean it out a few months later and throw them away. Needless to say none of these fortunes ever made it into the book although it really was a sweet gesture.
Nowadays, the only thing fortune cookies are for me are a chance to watch Fred chew something loudly. He is a big fan of the fortunes and it could not be more adorable to watch him eat them. I don’t even like the taste of them anymore. And don’t get me started when I get the orange flavored ones or the ones that are half chocolate/half whatever flavor they usually are.
I think fortunes should have real life advice. I would love to open one up and have it say something like this….it might make me think twice before I order Saigon Tokyo and I’ll get pizza instead.
I have SHAD. Have you heard of it? There really isn’t a pill for it or at least I haven’t seen one advertised yet. It’s a disease I’ve lived with for awhile now and I just have to learn to accept it. It stands for Summer Hiking Anxiety Disorder and it affects at least 1:200 people in New England every year.
Ok so that really isn’t a thing. But regardless I still think I have it. Summer in New England is so short and beautiful sunny days are so far and few that I get so much anxiety every Saturday and Sunday that I have to go hiking that I often wonder if I really want to go hiking or if I just think I want to hike. I think it’s the former. I love the feeling of being on the mountain and the beauty and the everything in between. I love getting to the top and taking a nap. I even love going down the mountain and thinking to myself “I hate this. Why do I have to come down. Isn’t there a tram or something?” I love taking photos. I love watching Fred thrive going up and down and chasing squirrels and jumping over rocks.
I get so anxious during the week when it is sunny out and I am working and then it rains on the weekend. I feel like I won’t be able to enjoy the summer and it will pass so quickly and winter will be here. In therapy the other day she asked what my favorite season was and I didn’t really have an answer. I said “I guess it should be summer but I get so worried in the summer because winter is coming.
Anyway, this post isn’t really supposed to be about hiking. It’s about Fred. K and I were hiking on Saturday and Fred was off leash. Why? Because I have no desire to train him while going up a mountain. If anything, I should be the one on a leash and he dragging me. Hiking is where he is at his best. He behaves. He comes when called. (Most of the time.)
I am really supposed to be training him 24/7 so of course he was behaving the entire time on the mountain. So much so that two people said he was so calm. What?? Calm? Sure. I’ll take that.
Then a couple with a huge dog on a leash were coming down and Fred would not listen. He would not come. Instead he ran up to the 200 pound dog and jumped on him to attack. And of course that dog was in our training class. What are the odds? The girl says “Don’t worry I won’t tell Chris.” Crap.
Anyway I got one hike down for the summer. I have about 2-3 more to go before my SHA goes away and my NSMD* anxiety comes back. I’ll keep you posted.
*Need to see a movie disorder.
I got on the band wagon and started to use the app Waze for directions. I really like it. It’s so much easier than google and it gives me a few different routes to take which I really like because sometimes I don’t mind going the extra distance if it will get me there faster.
I also really appreciate the warnings about cars being pulled over and cops up ahead. It reminds me when I was a kid and I would drive in my dad’s Toyota Tercel and he had a radar detector that would go off every ten seconds while driving through CT. I always thought it was so cool that he had that tool. I think now though it was probably not because he cared about getting stopped but because he was too cheap to pay speeding tickets.
I just have one question about waze that confuses me. Who is posting all of these updates? Are people driving by cops and picking up their phones and typing them in? Who is actually taking the time to do this? And how is that safe? And even if passengers are doing it don’t they have anything better to do than sit there ready to type in an update at any second.
Don’t get me wrong, I am very thankful to know when a traffic jam is coming up but I would prefer not to crash my car when typing in my update and causing my own new traffic pattern to be formed.
I think it would also be cool to have other updates on waze. Maybe something like “slow driver up ahead with a baby on board sticker” or “suburu with a coexist bumper sticker causing traffic in left lane in one mile”.
Maybe I should start that app.
The other night K and I were staying in yet another trashy hotel. *See footnote. I didn’t have a book or my kindle and didn’t really feel like watching TV and I wasn’t tired so I figured I would start to read the bible. It was either that or a book of the list of restaurants in Danbury. CT.
I am not sure if it was the Old Testament or the New Testament. I really don’t know the difference and I don’t really care. I usually judge books by their covers so if I did that, it looked new so I’ll just go with that.
I have always really wondered what all the fuss is about and why our basic existence from most of the world is revolved around the words in a book. I know I went through Genesis in Hebrew School but I don’t remember a thing.
I am usually a really fast reader but I could only got through page 8 before I fell asleep. It takes so much brain energy to get through just a page. I don’t even think a kindle would be able to define half the words.
I got to the part where Eve had a third kid. A third kid???! When did that happen? And how did that happen? First of all I can understand how Cain and Abel were born but I really don’t understand where their wives came from and how they had kids of their own. Makes no sense. And if Cain killed Abel or maybe it was the other way around, why would Adam and Eve even want a new kid? I think that would be a sign that maybe they should just stop. And how did Eve even conceive another kid. Wasn’t she like 50 by then?
And where did Noah come from? And wasn’t there a lot of famine back then and disease? How did one of each sex of animal survive? And no animal was infertile?
Anyway that’s where I am right now. I am not sure who the editor was of this book but they definitely didn’t get a degree in publishing.
*Footnote: K is no longer allowed on Expedia.
When is it going to be my turn? Don’t get me wrong…I am very happy for my friends who have happy things happening for them. Weddings. Babies. New Homes. And I wish nothing but happiness for them. But…..
I want it to be my turn. I want it to be my turn to get a diamond ring. To have an ultrasound that shows if I am having a boy or a girl. To get gifts. To have my parents say Mazel Tov to me. To have people say “I knew it. I prayed for you.” or whatever religion people are, for them to be happy for me! I want my parents to finally get to dance to the twist at my wedding or hold their grandkid and be the grandparents I didn’t really get to have. I want to plan a wedding on a long holiday weekend and make people travel to it!
I want gifts. I want to register at every place imaginable and have people get super annoyed that they have to get me a gift. I want people to wake up on a Saturday and think “ugh, I could be hiking rather than squeezing into these damn spanx.” I want people to come up with excuses as to why they can’t come to my baby shower. I want 300 likes on Facebook from people who really don’t even care but feel they have to like anyway! I want to annoy people by asking them for money for my honeymoon and have them say “why should I pay for your vacation when I can’t afford my own!” I want people to judge me by the food at my wedding. I want people to hear the name of my kid and think “really, why would they ever name their baby that.”
I love my friends and I am super happy for them but I also want them to know that I am still here. That I still matter and that I want a big fat fucking congratulation when I get those things too.
The other night I was in JP and I got ice cream at JP Licks. As usual, the line was very long so I was able to take my time and really figure out what flavor I wanted to try. My go to flavor there is black raspberry with chocolate jimmies but I decided to go outside of my comfort zone and try something else.
I was really close to it being my turn but there was one black guy in front of me doing the same decision-making process as me. The guy behind the counter went right past him and asked me what I wanted. I was like “no he is next”. He ordered some crazy peanut butter chocolate flavor so I was intrigued. After he ordered I was like “wow that sounds really good.” And then he was telling me that his wife wanted it and he had to make sure he got it 100% right. Then we talked about what flavor I finally decided to get.
We got to the counter and I was taking my debit card out to pay for Kristen and my ice cream and the guy told the girl at the register that he was getting mine too. I was shocked and laughed and said “is this some kind of pay it forward thing?” And he said simply. “No. You talked to me so I wanted to buy you ice cream.”
What’s crazy is that I was so shocked and so was the girl at the counter. We live in a world where we are shocked when people do nice things but even crazier we live in a world where people are so happy that they take the time to talk to them that they want to buy you ice cream. It was sweet and it made me happy.
And I got mint cookies and cream with chocolate jimmies.
I went to see The Four Piano Men (not sure if that is the exact name) in Manchester the other night. It’s a show where two men play the songs of Stevie Wonder, Elton John, Freddie Mercury and Billy Joel. Of course since this is a fun show with upbeat songs they fully expect the audience to clap along with the singers.
This. This I can’t stand. I pay to see the show. I do not pay for 200-300 unsynchronized white people (we are in NH) to clap for half the show. Why can’t people figure out how to clap in unison? Why are there always about 20 people who continue clapping after the clapping has finally stopped? I don’t think it really is too hard to learn how to clap. I think we did this when we were about 3 months old and continued throughout childhood, adolescence into adulthood. We played patty cake, Miss Murphy, clapped at sporting events, graduations, weddings, promotions at work, theater performances. We have had plenty of practice.
I think when you show your ticket when entering a theater you should be required to do a 10 second clap to music and if you can’t, then you need to go in the no clapping area of the audience.