Frog and Goat

Yesterday morning I woke up with hives. Apparently, in addition to being allergic to Penicillin, I am allergic to sulfa drugs. Did you know that if you take two Benadryl you can not lift your head off your desk? It is physically impossible. The back of the box states “may cause marked drowsiness”. Yeah, no kidding. I’ve cut back to one at a time.

My sister defends her dissertation today. Hopefully she’ll be officially known as “CRT, PHD” by the afternoon.

The better-half went to court this morning for the car crash and was given driving school but no fine. I guess plunging down an embankment and having your car totaled is fine enough.

We participated in the Reveille 5K this morning. We finished in 54 minutes which is about average speed for me…at least that’s what the treadmill tells me. The better-half wore his sandals and the illustrious City of Richmond recently top-dressed the route. We had to stop several times to shake out rocks. If there is one thing I despise is top-dressing instead of real paving. I thought though it was a thing that only rural areas did. I’m glad to know that ritzy neighborhoods have to contend with flying rocks too.

We had two motivators during our walk. One was a kid in a stroller who was screaming–kind of like a dinosaur and the other was a group of people talking about “carving out Sunday afternoon time” for sex. A couple in the group just recently had a baby and apparently they don’t want any phone calls on Sunday afternoon. Again, the things I overhear.

The walk itself was splendid and for a good cause.

My friend was manning the Stephen Ministry booth so we stopped by to say hi and hear her pitch. Sounds like something we should consider for the MIL.

It is my brother-in-law’s birthday today.

Happy Birthday P!

I can’t believe I haven’t written about this before. I thought about it last night but I had already shut off the computer and it is about 5 years old and way too slow to start up again at 10:30pm.

One night last week while enjoying a lovely meal we happened to hear the conversation of the two men sitting behind me. Actually I heard it because of proximity. Anyway, it started with the one directly behind me asking the water server if her name was Cheryl (the waitress). That always pisses me off when customers act all chummy with the waitress especially men over 40 and in a beach town. It seems slimy. When Cheryl approached them she was professional and took their order. Here’s where the freak show started. I found out the two men were brothers and one lived abroad for most of his adult life. He talked about eating wild boar. I guess it is true that you are what you eat. And, to top it off he is a pet psychologist.

They talked about money which I despise–in public. I also found out that Mr. Pet Psycho has a son who is starting at UVA (no, I refuse to call it The University). The Pet Psycho and his brother were rediscovering America. How nice. They were headed to Myrtle Beach later. Naturally, they couldn’t imagine why Cheryl wanted to live where she lives. She set the record straight that she wouldn’t live anywhere else, originating from the Midwest, because despite its appearances there is quite a cultural draw in the little town. She plays the violin and is/was apparently a successful violinist. She named one band in particular that hails from the town that is internationally known. The Pet Psycho and brother were impressed. Stereotypes–some times they are worth shattering and other times they are there for a reason.

The better half and I do talk to each other at dinner but I can put money on it that the only thing other tables know about us is that we drink wine with dinner–and we drink the whole bottle. I’m continuously amazed at how much personal information people just let flutter around strangers. Perhaps, I need to use my powers for evil and take advantage.