I love half day Fridays. You feel like you got some work done, then you get to go home and have the whole day ahead of you to get your personal life in order.
So I went to work and put in my requisite amount of hours. Then I had lunch with my friend StacyM. I forget that stace doesn’t like to be photographed. Here I am going to protect her rights and post a photo that doesn’t really show her face.
The other one I took is really cute, but since she seemed to be reluctant about being photographed, I’ll just post this one. Stace, shoot me an email and okay posting the other pic, woud’ya? Trust me, you look great in it.
Stacy and I had lunch at Chipotle and coffee at Peet’s (technically I had coffee at Peet’s), and we sniffed the jars of their tea selection and chatted and got caught up.
Then I went to the other yarn store (there are two in Beverly Hills within walking distance of my office. This would be dangerous except that I don’t like either of the owners and have only patronized their business in times of extreme duress. That’s right. Yarn emergencies. Like today.) to buy some knitting needles for a project in progress. I’ve only been in four yarn stores since I started up this knitting thing. Each time has been less than desirable with the exception of the one in New Hampshire from my last trip back east. The lady there was nice. She chatted with me in a friendly non-threatening way. She didn’t make me feel like she was watching to see if I would shoplift (okay, so maybe carrying an oversized bag that I dig in and out of isn’t such a good idea when in a cramped messy yarn store), she was genuinely helpful and even gave me her copy of a pattern for a cardigan. Her yarn was way overpriced and the selection wasn’t that great, but hey personality goes a long way. I’d go back and shop there again.
Anyways. I got through the other yarn store with minimal damage and only two disparaging remarks thrown my way (and the expected “May I help you?” loaded with the underlying meaning of “May I follow you around my store with my eyes on your hands like a hawk to make sure that you don’t steal any of my high-priced wool since people your age with belly button piercings are not to be trusted.” Believe me, I am not just being paranoid. She did follow me around, she did notice my belly button and remark on it. She did think that I was going to shoplift.).
I went home to be with my husband and the cats. The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. M did paperwork (cough, cough. Sorted through his coupons.). Here he is saving money so fast that he is just a blur.
I feel like this is my homage to lomos. I wish I had a decent camera.
Here’s what he looks like in real time:
Truly he is thrilled. Do not let this crappy photo convince you otherwise.
Then I putzied around the house, not quite ready to be serious about anything. So I photographed my cats. I think you would all be alarmed at how often this takes place in my life and how numerous the photos are, of really, the same things over and over again. Cats in general are not interesting photography subjects, even my little fuzzy darlings. But, well, you know…I am the crazy cat lady around here.
Ocha stretching and being long.
Next. My montage of pekoe shots.
For some reason, I like to make him sniff my hand or feet. Kind of breaks things up you know?
Okay, okay, I need to move along before I embarass myself any further. I never claimed that my life was interesting.