on some things that I couldn't exactly dedicate an entire blog post to, but feel the need to mention anyway...
1. I've started running again. Except that I apparently felt invincible last week and felt the need to do my 2.5 mile run four days in a row, which has rendered my calves completely useless. I tried going out for a run this morning, thinking that the three day break would have healed my ravaged body, but was horribly wrong. I arrived home today (after running/walking/staggering for about forty minutes) looking like the blond equivalent to Amy Winehouse after a long night of binge drinking. Plainly put, I was a hot mess. (But I like to think my hair was slightly more attractive. Just saying.)
2. For the last couple weeks, whenever "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" by Perry Como starts playing on my iPod, I haven't been able to turn it off. That song feels like a hug. I don't care that it's only June; I love me some Perry.
3. The TV show Dexter owns my life. (The fact that it is probably feeding my paranoia of being murdered then chopped to bits is aside the point.)
4. I wonder if my husband will ever stop acting surprised when he finds half-empty bottles of wine in the fridge. Because, seriously. I have no shame, and he should know that by now.
5. Speaking of my husband, he told me that he was at the film festival meeting yesterday, and someone mentioned my blog. To which I responded, "WHAT. That is freaking awesome. I kind of like these film festival people a little more now. Also, I love that yet another stranger reads my blog more than my own husband." So, this is my little shout-out to the peeps over at the Newport Beach Film Festival. Next time I see any of you, I'm totally going to wig out, because I'll wonder if you've been reading my blog, and I'll be all, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" (But in a good way.) Also, thank you for not making me deal with another Australian Peach incident this year at the festival. Much obliged.
6. And to continue speaking of my husband, I love days where my husband is the sexiest thing in the entire world to me, and I get those same giddy feelings I used to get back when I only dreamed of being able to hold his hand. Those days? Well, let's just say that they are the best. And they remind me of why we got married in the first place, and how I have no doubt I'll be with him until I'm old and gray and probably a little crazy.











30 wrote me a note:
Thoughts? Questions? White cheddar popcorn? Do share.