Gonna Make a Pie With a Heart in the Middle

So I am ashamed to say this, and it scares me a little given that I'm about to move back to scorching Texas in a couple of months, but I have become a real heat wimp in the last five years.  Last year the thermostat in Denver didn't even reach 80 degrees until around mid-June, and the hottest days we had all summer got up to 92 or 93 degrees.  Most of the time the temperatures stayed in the low 80s, and I recall complaining when I went swimming outdoors that it was too cold.

And that's why this summer has been a shock to my system.  By June we'd had temperatures reaching almost 100, and this past weekend we actually managed to reach those triple digits in Denver for the first time in a couple of years.  It turns out that even with the dry air in Colorado, a building without air conditioning doesn't quite cut it.  I've been sweltering all month.  So you can imagine my joy this past week when a rainstorm came through and, for an evening, cooled it all down.  I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and bake, since these blueberries in my fridge had been calling my name for a couple of days, saying "Robin! Bake us in a delicious pie!"

So many berries!

Fun With Mom

It's been a good week.

Last Sunday Greg arrived in town, and I went to the office and worked for awhile alongside him.  It was nice to see him, but we didn't get a lot of time to spend together on this visit.  This is because he was pretty busy on the database, and also because my mom was in town.  That was a busy weekend - I was running around all over the place to pick up things like an Aerobed, sheets, closet organizing stuff, etc and then spending a lot of time cleaning in preparation for her visit.

Mom arrived on Tuesday night, and we had dinner at Charlie Brown's and then stayed up late chatting, as is my normal tendency when faced with visitors I haven't seen in awhile.  On Wednesday we got up early and went downtown, where I had breakfast and we sat for a little while until I had to go to work.  That was a difficult workday - I was tired, and I knew I had to leave earlyish, so I had to be efficient.  I met up with Mom at six o'clock and we headed to Cafe Colore, one of my favorite restaurants downtown, for dinner.  I had a wonderful vegetarian angel-hair pasta dish which also featured pesto and goat cheese, and as soon as we were done eating we hurried over to the Pepsi Center for the Carole King/James Taylor concert.

'Cause I wanna be neat and tidy!

Thank god for visitors.

For serious. If it weren't for the threat of social/parental ostracism, there are areas of my apartment that I would never clean. I'd be moving out and suddenly discover nooks and crannies that haven't been disturbed in four years. That's the sad truth.

Today, spurred on by both my mom's impending visit (she arrives Tuesday) and the ever-looming move-out date (most likely October 15), I decided to tackle the most dreaded of all the junk spots in my apartment: the bathroom closet.

Now, despite the fact that I live in a studio, I have ample storage space. Perhaps TOO ample. The bathroom closet is spacious enough to walk in and close the door after you; there are shelves on one side and a built-in pole for hanging towels. I've been storing everything from sheets to towels to medicine to makeup to cleaning supplies in there since I moved in. But since I've been adding and occasionally throwing things out at random, it's become this black hole of stuff. Here's a picture (no, I did not do anything to make this look worse than it was).

If You'll Just Fill This Out In Triplicate

A month or so ago I made a semi-conscious decision to start writing more. Upon reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, I wanted to reflect on my day-to-day state, and to see if keeping a journal would make me any likelier to focus on the positive. I haven't noticed any increase in positive feelings so far, but I have noticed that I'm more aware of expressing negative ones. Oh, I'm no Pollyanna, but I'm starting to choose my words more carefully in some settings, and phrase things the way I'd like to actually feel them.

This is mostly applicable to work, as one might imagine. It's been a challenge - summer is always busy, and with the database conversion and our abrupt loss of a staffperson we're all tense and unable to get everything done. My biggest problem is that, like a senior in her last semester of high school, I'm beginning to lose interest. I know I'm moving on. I know the new systems and projects won't benefit me. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and it's making me lazy.

Whatta world

It's Sunday - and so far a lovely mixture of lazy and productive. I've just finished my laundry and I'm uploading photos on Shutterfly while I wait for carpet cleaner to dry so I can vacuum. I awoke very disoriented this morning, thinking for some reason that I'd slept very late when in fact it was only about 8:15. I contemplated going back to sleep, since I didn't go to bed until about 2:30 in the morning, but decided it would be much better to read and have my breakfast and coffee in bed. I ate lots of cereal and drank three cups of java while I dove into The Redbreast, a novel by Jo Nesbo that I picked up after Marisa reviewed it on Word Herd Leader. She's become my go-to source for reading material, which is quite handy. I haven't got very far in the story yet, but I'm enjoying the Norwegian McNultyesque Harry Hole and the flashbacks to WWII. It does make me realize, however, just how ignorant I am about history, and I may have to pick up some nonfiction WWII reading after this.

Ooh La La

"I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger ..."

It's Memorial Day weekend - specifically, a gorgeous blue-skied sunny Sunday with cool breezes and perfect temperatures. Denver has that coastal feeling it often gets in the late spring and early summer - just a waft of salt air and I'd be convinced the beach was just around the corner. There's something about the quality of light here - it's so white somehow, like the light in Southern California, and so bright it hurts.

New York, New York

Oh my god y'all I am a terrible blogger, it's been ages since I posted, blah blah blah apologies.

OK, that's out of the way. Now for an update (maybe bullet-point form will help since there's a lot to post):

-I made my decision (way back in January) to tell my boss I'll be leaving in October. September 30 will officially be my last work day in Denver, after which I'll fly out to San Francisco for my dad's wedding and then fly or Amtrak it back to Denver to pack up and move. Hoping I can persuade my cousin or my mom to help me with the drive to TX. As yet I have NO CLUE what I will do for work once I get to Austin. Exciting and scary at the same time, no?

-I am as usual experiencing an EPIC FAIL on weight loss goals. I even pledged to lose weight with the Biggest Loser Pound for Pound Challenge. It made no difference whatsoever. Sigh. This is a continual problem for me, especially in the springtime, which for some reason is always a really tough time of year for me (there is always a lot of stress, depression, and anxiety for me between February and May). Still, I refuse to give up. I'm keeping my PFP goal but extending the deadline (sorry, Feed America. I will give you some money instead) to my dad's wedding, and probably reducing the weight-loss goal to be slightly more realistic.

New Year

So this is the New Year/And I don't feel any different ...

I've always loved that line from Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism album. It's true, isn't it? Like birthdays (one of which I've just had as well), new years hold so much promise and potential for change. The countdown ends, the ball drops and you guzzle champagne waiting for the feeling that something significant has happened. Or you wake up in the morning and suddenly you're a year older. Looking in the mirror, you expect, like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles, to see a difference in your face. Some visible evidence of a milestone reached.

More often than not there's nothing there.