Things I Learned This Weekend

(Just a few things I learned as I'll write more about weekend happenings later in the week. As well as all the other things I keep saying I'll write about.)

It's possible to love my blanket in public.
It only took me a lifetime of owning the thing, and 7 years of consistent travelling, to figure out how to discretely hide my blanket so I can put my favorite corner to my mouth in public. This could change everything.

Adding text to photos in Photobucket is fun.
They took away my ability to collage photos, but at least I can add fun text. Or, well, if not fun text, at least just text. And just in case the above photo wasn't obvious enough.

Work from home days are great, but work from home home days are even better.
I left for NC on Thursday evening and worked from home home the next day. There's something about doing my job in the room I spent my high school years studying myself crazy, that's kind of nice/weird.

There's no such thing as eating too many Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
I may have eaten 6 Krispy Kreme doughnuts in 10 hours. This may not be remotely close to my record. (What we call the "Krispy Kreme Incident of '07," when I ate approximately 9 doughnuts in a few hours after returning from London. I only remember the first 3; the rest are just a blur.)


A quick meal and shopping with mom during my lunch break is way better than sitting at my desk and eating while working.
We went to my favorite Mexican place, Torero's, and then mom bought me pretty things at Target. I would have been happy just to ride around town with her, but don't tell her that, I also like the Target stuff.

My sister and I really should wear tiaras all the time.
While waiting to try on bridesmaid dresses at David's Bridal, we had a little photo shoot with some tiaras. We think our brother's fiancee should let us incorporate them into our wedding day attire.

  

Cleaning out papers and junk from the room you lived in from 5 to 22 is fun and weird and sad and happy.
Even though I cleaned out the majority of my room when I moved to DC, I kept a lot of books out and a lot of stuff in my closet. While looking for some clothes, I decided to clean out the rest of my closet. More on this later. But first, a glimpse of a report from my 9th grade computer class. On e-mail. That was done with a friend. That we only got a 98 on. I'm not happy about this.

My Dad is awesome.
He got a knot out of my necklace, took a bunch of my papers to the dump, lasted longer than 5 minutes in Ulta, got us Bojangles on Sunday morning, bought a great computer that I now want, and he makes me laugh.

My Mom is awesome.
She brought me Krispy Kreme and a Pepsi to the train station at midnight. She just wants to go shopping with me and have me fix her Pinterest. She lets me go around her house and pick out stuff I want. She got more excited than me when I told her I was going to make a t-shirt quilt. (More on her day later.)


It is possible for me to sleep on a train. And "The West Wing" really is just the greatest show ever.
I managed to sleep for a few minutes on both train trips. This never happens. Even though, on the way back, I was watching "The West Wing" and missed half an episode. But that's what DVDs are for.

The absolute worst way to end a long weekend at home is with an all-day meeting on Monday.
I got in at 8 last night and had a meeting downtown today for work. This can be good because my commute is only 15 minutes and costs me less than $2. But it can also be bad when it's raining, I'm running late, my metro train is off-loaded due to the fact that it's smoking, I have to run to the meeting in the rain, alternating sidewalks on opposite sides of the street due to construction, making it with just 5 minutes to spare and only enough time to switch into my grown up shoes but not brush my hair.


And that last graph should explain why I'm not going to spend forever fixing the wonky spacing in this post or care that there are, yet again, too many commas. I'm tired and just want to curl up in my queen-sized bed with my visible baby blanket and watch C.J., Sam, Josh, etc. do their thing.

What's a girl to do?

Earlier this week, I woke up in the middle of the night to find my blanket wrapped around my throat. Yes, my baby blanket tried to strangle me. After 25 years of love and devotion, it tried to kill me.

As it is now practically nothing but the binding, the day I have been dreading for years is fast approaching: what to do when my blanket disintegrates into nothing. Obviously I will have to take the day off work, lie in bad with the curtains drawn, with a warm compress applied to my forehead while sobbing.

Right now I am Googling "1983 sesame street baby blanket," but so far nothing that resembles mine. Of course, I don't know exactly what mine is supposed to look like so I will have to consult some pictures, but I think I'll know it when I see it. (I'm not sure I would though since mine was reconstructed by my Mamaw circa 1989 and had the binding replaced an infinite amount of times by my mother.)

I've had it since the day I was born. I lost it the week before I left for college, an already trying time, and thought I was going to have a breakdown. Aside from my first trip to Europe, it has been with me through every phase of my life. I sleep with/sit with/walk around with my favorite corner over my mouth, so that now, if I'm at work or anywhere else and need comfort, I'll put my sleeve over my mouth to replicate the feeling. It is the first thing I grab when I'm sad or mad or have the mean reds.

There was an episode of Oprah I saw years ago where they discussed people's comfort objects. One woman in the audience stood up to say that every night she kissed her husband goodnight, and then her blanket. No husband on the horizon to kiss goodnight, but at least for a little while longer I'll have the blanket. I hope.

I'm going to start carrying my own apple juice

An ad for Starbucks I saw in a metro station. I have a "blankie;" Starbucks is nothing like a blankie. I've lost track of how many times I've gone into one this fall for a caramel apple cider, only to be told they don't have any apple juice. My blankie never lets me down like that. Shame on you, Starbucks, you are no blankie.

(This post brought to you by Bonnie's fatigue, bitterness, and lack of caramel goodness.)

Day 331: Seriously, almost home.

The little kid in Mr. Mom.* Linus in Peanuts. This woman on an episode of Oprah who said every night she kissed her husband goodnite, then her blanket. Am I scaring you yet? In case it's not obvious, these three, and I, all have one thing in common: we all have security blankets. Mine, like me, is almost 25 years old, and has been with me through every phase of my life.**

Today I had my luggage at work, ready to make a break for HOME in the afternoon. Before doing so, however, I decided to make putting my blanket on my lap at work for 15 minutes, my new thing. Needless to say, it was the best 15 minutes at work ever.

And soon I will be HOME, which I need, more than even my blanket.

*I'm a drama queen, but I'm not being one when I say I seriously can't watch the scene where they burn the blanket. It distresses me. And it's why I'm still wary of Michael Keaton.
**Ok, so not that first trip to Europe, but you know Europeans, they could've taken it and made it their next big thing. Ernie's not ready for that.