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Lunch today:

Couscous Salad

Plain Couscous

Chicken broth

Cucumber (from garden)

Red and yellow cherry tomatoes (from garden)

Fresh mint (from garden)

Feta cheese

Lemon juice

Extra-virgin olive oil

Grilled Eggplant

Eggplant

Olive oil

Sea salt

Pepper

Rosemary Olive-oil Bread

(Purchased)



It was extra yummy.

Everyone's a suspect.

So. Today was garage sale day....


6:05- Wake up for the first time.

6:10- Wake up for the second time.

6:15- Wake up for the third time. Get dressed, stumble downstairs.

6:20- Growl at my mom for not putting the muffins in the oven yet. Make three more signs leading to our house on old window shades.

7:00- Assemble way ghetto signs. (Window shade signs+garden stakes+coat hangers+lots of duct tape)

7:25- Wait on first paying customers (and non-paying customers) of the day: A lady and two guys. I take the lady's money for some random household crap, my mom takes guy #1's money for a microwave, and guy #2 walks off with an antique adding machine. My dad gets pissed and won't shut up about it. So a guy stole our adding machine. You're out maybe three dollars. Get over it.

7:40- Leave with still pissed-off father to put signs up.

8:00- Return to garage. Eat muffins. Sell random crap to random people.

8:30- Biker guy shows up, in full spandex and helmet with mirrors. I stifle a laugh and sell him random crap.

9:00- Kylie comes and hangs out in the garage with me. I make her go buy me iced coffee.

9:35- Kylie comes back. I listen to Belle and Sebastian (pretty inoffensive music to shoppers) and half-listen to Kylie while I sing along. We talk about sidewalk chalk, the Prince of Space, and spunky Asian chicks.

10:30- Kylie leaves to get ready for work, I keep selling random crap. People buy the refrigerator and cabinets and leave. They'll pick them up later.

11:00- Parents ditch me to go eat macaroni. I listen to Sufjan Stevens.

12:00- I yell inside and make my mom come be cashier while I eat. I go iside and eat Chinese BBQ pork buns and green pepper.

12:30- I reluctantly return to the sale. My iPod dies. I grumble and refold stuff that customers messed up.

1:00- Biker guy comes back, sans spandex. He buys two bike seats (of course), a polo, and a dehumidifier. Fridge lady comes back and loads fridge into pickup. Her nephew (or something)'s house burned down. He needed a new fridge. Makes sense.

1:30- Cabinet people show. They load the cabinets and buy a hat shaped like a dog's head. I go inside and make my mom watch the sale until it closes. I go watch cooking shows in my room.

2:00- I go back outside and start packing up. It's hot and my feet hurt.

2:30- Stuff is pretty much packed up, I go with my dad to take down signs. We get to the place where the last sign was, and it's nowhere to be found. The day ends as it began, with my father getting pissed because people stole random stuff that's really not valuable.

So. Now you're up to speed. I'm bored and tired, and my neighborhood is full of thieving idiots. Whenever I see someone closing a garage door, or opening their car, I quickly look to see if they appear to be harboring stolen goods. Now, everyone is a suspect.

The end.

I'm health-conscious, I swear!

I tend to get a little weird when I'm grocery shopping. Well, actually about a lot of things, but today I went grocery shopping, so that's what I'm talking about.

I really like to grocery shop. I'm kind of a foodie, not to an extreme, but I like to cook and I certainly won't deny I enjoy the snobbish satisfaction it gives me. I buy organic canned goods, because Lord knows Miur Glen crushed tomatoes taste waaaaaaaaay different than Hunt's. I refuse to buy any bread except whole-grain (unless it's a baguette or something). And I definitely, definitely, do not buy McCormick taco seasoning.

My mother does. And here's where I have a problem: I can't deal with seeing it in the cart. When I grocery shop, I look in other people's carts and judge them. Like, for fun. Examples:

Bananas+cat food+low-fat bologna+velveeta=old lady

Gatorade+Poptarts+Cheez-Its+Sponge-Bob fruitsnacks=brand name snack foods soccer mom

frozen lasagna+frozen "burrito casserole"+frozen fishsticks+frozen chicken pot pie=grandmother with a deep freeze who feeds her grandchildren food they hate

Etc.

So anyway, since I judge people, I assume other people do the same thing. Because of this, I insist that the cart be fulled at least halfway with fresh produce, contain only fresh meats, at least one kind of fish, only organic/health snack foods, whole grain breads and bakery products, and cheeses costing at least seven dollars. When I go shopping with my mother, though, I end up with things like McCormick taco seasoning thrown in the cart.

And I feel compelled to hide it. Yes, I actually stop the cart and act like I'm rearranging so things will fit, when really I'm hiding the taco seasoning and wonder bread (my mother's favorite) under my organic green tea and yellowfin tuna steaks. I don't know why. I mean, It's not like I have to eat my mother's bleached-out bread, but I get paranoid that someone will see it in my cart and assume that I am going to consume it. It makes be nervous.I have no problem going grocery shopping with tangled hair and mismatched clothes, but I am afraid of the contents of my cart misrepresenting me.

Go figure.

So I've decided to start blogging again. Just about random things, like I used to. I'm hoping to avoid angsty rants. They're no fun.

I looked at luggage today (on the internet, I didn't go shopping). I don't really know why I've got this thing about luggage, but I'm convinced that a set of old-fashioned trunks (with wheels) is absolutely necessary. I don't really travel much, and when I do it's hardly for more than a week. Still, I've got this notion that me having a heavy trunk with lots of latches and leather straps is a really good idea.

It's not.

I struggle with standard carry-on. You know, those little roller bags? Remember how when you were little it seemed impossible to drag them along without them (or you) falling over? I still have that problem. I'll be briskly walking down the terminal, feeling all jet-setty with my trenchcoat and moving sidewalk stride....and then I totally trip over a bag the size of a cereal box. Not cool.

Also, trunks are kind of heavy. Now, I've convinced myself that if I get one with wheels, it'll be no problem. It'll weigh a ton, but I can just pull it along like any other piece of luggage. This will not happen. I will end up flattened under the enormous weight of my beautiful trunk, which I sadly could not control long enough to make it check-in.

My final prolem is the luggage carosel. Well, more acurately, the luggage carosel + my lack of upper body strength. As in, TOTAL lack of upper body strength. I'm the girl who is crashing into everyone as she runs around the carosel, tightly gripping her luggage, but is unable to actually lift the bag off until some annoyed businessman takes pity and helps her.

So the trunk thing is definately not going to work.

So.....I want this one.