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All right, I kind of hate recapping. Don’t you? It’s fine and dandy to blog about the day, what just happened, or what you think might happen tomorrow, but filling in the blanks (Saturday we did ex, and then Sunday we did why, Monday was zee) is plain ole boring.

So I’ll be quick. The Indigo Girls rocked the house, in a big way. Amy’s voice has always been strong, but raw. That was part of her allure. But her voice is insanely great now, and their harmonies are something else. Oh, I get so happy listening to them, especially outside, on the water, under swaying palm trees and a shooting star or two.

I’ve never lived in San Diego, but sometimes I feel as if I have. I was sitting with my friend T and her wife, and in the row directly behind us were L and her wife. I read in T and L’s wedding seven years ago. I’ll give you a second to work that out. Okay. Uh-huh. And now, everyone is either friends or at least cordial (I made the whole trip with an ex of mine), so it was the typical everyone knows/has dated everyone else kind of night in southern California (and I live in the north).

It was a relaxing weekend. T and E live in my dream home. Really. I wonder sometimes if E doesn’t mind my co-opting her house so much. It’s what I’ve used for my main character’s home in my novel, and I can nap on her couch in the front window and dream my character’s dreams. It’s nestled in Hillcrest, an old craftsman, and it’s painted the best shade of orange. They’re involved right now in redoing the guest bathroom – placing the tub up in an arched window and laying tiles in art deco patterns on the floors and walls. There are little nooks all over the house, clean and organized and lovely. I wander around when I’m there, just dreaming. Kind of annoying, I’m sure.

We napped a lot. We ate a lot (oh, San Diegan Mexican food). Then we boarded a plane (hopped an earlier flight – it was the first time I’ve ever walked into an airport and right onto a departing airplane), and I sat next to a young guy whose fear rolled off his body in palpable waves. He held a tiny prayer card in his hand, crossed himself repeatedly, and whispered the prayer for the first twenty minutes of the flight. I relaxed. He was doing all the work for me.

I’m usually really good about keeping myself to myself on flights—I hate that whole polite chitchat thing—but at one of his more elongated gasps, I had to ask, “So are you a little nervous?” We had a lovely talk. He’s 23, in total complete love with his girlfriend of four years (he wrote her a love letter in between prayers), is buying a house (good for you, kid), and was all smiles once we started talking. We talked all the way down, and he barely noticed the landing. I actually really hate to fly, and it’s only alleviated by someone being MORE scared than I am. If I have to (or choose to) calm someone else, I’m fine. I remember all the statistics (you’re more likely to die by being kicked to death by a donkey than in an airplane crash) and I don’t mind the bumps.

But I’m glad to be home. Bethany’s on the couch watching really crap TV (From Justin to Kelly or something just as awful) and I’m doing laundry. Back to work tonight. I love having a job that pays the bills and allows me to write, but that I don’t have to take home or prepare for. I just show up. Man, I never even give work a second thought when I’m not there. I just realized how lucky I am to have that….

Back to knitting Cromarty. I’m a happy gal.

San Diego was awesome (except for security check-in woes — today it was the guy who held my driver’s license and said, “This is expired.” Yeah, since my birthday SIX DAYS ago. “Do you have another form of ID?” “Here’s my police ID.” Grimace. “Don’t you have something more official? Like a Costco card?” I could do nothing but gape).

I’ll tell you more tomorrow. I swear. I’m just too sleepy right now. Must turn computer off again…..

But I leave you with a public service announcement. (That’s not very much fun, is it? But it’s important; please sign the petition!)

In less than 48 hours, Congress will vote on an amendment to the U.S. Constitution that would permanently deny marriage equality to same-sex couples. This is unprecedented — never before has our Constitution been amended to take away anyone’s rights. We’ve got to fight back.

Okay. Deep breath. That wasn’t so bad.

Actually, her face WAS a little horrified a couple of times. There was a point at which, and I swear this is true, I considered sweeping all my papers off her desk and into my arms, and running away as fast as is possible with shin splints. Throwing over my shoulder as I left, “Psyche! I didn’t want to buy a condo anyway!” Or better yet, yelling it out the car window as I sped away.

But I didn’t. I stuck it out. And it got better as we went along. She realized that my insanely high student debt was from a school that just charges a damn lot, and she saw that my credit card bills, while high, aren’t totally crazy. I’ve got money, stuck though it is, in a state 401K and deferred compensation. Give me about six weeks or so, and I’ll be poking around Oakland for a cheap little condo. And I do mean cheap, and I do mean little. With our market, we’re talking easy $225,000 for a 500 square foot place. And I would have to leave my new sweet wonderful huge apartment and garden (thank god I left everything in pots). Ack. That would break my heart. But only a little piece of my heart would chip off, and a whole ‘nother part of it would grow, because it would be MINE. Mine and the cats’, that is.

Oooh. Orange walls. Hmmm.

It’s all up in the air. I’m finding myself to be in a fabulous place, actually, because if I buy a little place, I’m thrilled. If I can’t, I love my present home. It’s all good.

(whispered…. i really want my own own place, though….)

On another note, Very Big News. Astounding phenomenal news.

The Koigu has landed from the WonderBoys. Remember the *more Cr0marty I was making? This gal?

And then I ran out of yarn because I’m a dumbass when it comes to calculating my crazy yardage, and this is what I got from the next dyelot?

Welp, Rob is magic (but you knew that) and he had the Koigu divas dye this just for me. (Truthfully, this is the original Koigu photo, from back in February, but no one would ever know. It’s the darn same.)

I have to sleep with my Koigu again.

AND, it’s flying to San Diego this weekend. So am I, for that matter. I have a date with the Indigo Girls at Humphrey’s on Sunday night. Well, this time I’m not actually going to get to hang out with Amy, like last time (sigh….) but I’ll be dancing in the early evening sun next to the ocean and singing along. You dance and sing, too, okay? I’ll be back Tuesday, brown and happy.

https://rachaelherron.com/okay_deep_breat/

No time to “really” post today. I’m off to talk to a woman about a house. Well, I’m actually off to discuss financing a teeny-tiny condo. She will most likely laugh me out of the office. Listen for her — you might be able to hear her in about half an hour. Even you, La Brainy.

I have high debts (school and credit). I have no savings. (I have two very darling cats and lots of yarn, but somehow these aren’t treated with as must respect as a, say, down payment would be.) And people still say, eh. Go see what she says. Okey doke. Watch me roll. At least the meeting this afternoon is free.

Dear Reader Allison asked me a great question:

I have a question for you- though it’s actually about running. I saw in your earlier posts that you started recently. The thing is you make it sound like so much fun, but when does it become enjoyable??? I’ve been doing couch to 5k from coolrunning.com. I’m on week 4 and my brain is still screaming “stopstopstopstop” the whole time. How do you get from there to running in the pool because you’re hurt but want to run anyway? Sorry if this is a weird question to ask a knitting blog. 🙂

First, this ain’t no knitting blog. Had you noticed? (Anne killed me a couple of days ago: “Knitting content: I have been knitting. Ok, now on to other things.”) I’m so knitting, I swear. I’m almost done with another pair of socks. I’m almost done with that Brick Joy, the cabled Debbie Bliss hoodie. I’ve just lost all motivation to photograph yet another sweater in progress. Here’s what it looked like, here’s what it looks like now, two inches longer. I actually enjoy seeing this progress on other sites – I just bore myself silly with photographing such activity.

Where was I? Oh, back to the excellent question. Allison, I’m not sure WHERE the craziness that inspired the running came from. There’s never been anyone more anti-running than me. Completely unable to hide my disdain, if someone said to me, “I went running this morning,” I would howl in disgust. “Why do you DO that? How awful! Are you all right?”

Then I woke up one day and wanted to run. Quite literally, my body said, RUN. Not from anything, there was nothing I was avoiding, it just wanted me to move. I called Marama and told her I needed her help in buying running shoes, and she said, “Wanna run the AIDS Marathon?” I said, “Okay.” WTF?

My body screams “stopstopstopstop,” too. Loudly, in an annoying whine. But one day when I was going around the lake, I realized that it was full of crap. Shin splints aside, I don’t have to stopstopstop. Even though I felt like I was gonna DIE, I just kept running and eventually I forgot about that voice for a minute. I just tuned that part out and starting thinking about my writing, or what I wanted for dinner. I’m not saying that I’m not terrified to do the marathon. Actually, I’m terrified to do the seven mile run this week, since I skipped the six mile one last week so my legs could heal. Aargh. It’s kinda like when I quit smoking. I would throw myself on to the couch and absolutely Know For Sure that I was going to die if I didn’t have a cigarette. Then I would forget about it and have an okay evening. All mental, baby.

Thanks for the question, Allison.

And might I add, I was right. I’ve gained five pounds. Don’t anyone tell me that’s muscle weight or nothin’, because I know it ain’t, it’s all the ice cream I’ve suddenly felt much more free to eat. Well, I’m running a marathon! Pass the cake.

Sheesh.

Whew. I had a marvelous birthday weekend (the celebrations rolled all the way over the three day weekend) and now I’m exhausted. On the fourth I went to a great barbeque up in the Berkeley hills at my friend Christina’s house, and we had a little impromptu knitting party — here are Amy and Christina.

We watch the fog roll closer, and then I went down the hill to a party in Jack London Square, where we stood on the roof and watched the fireworks in the harbor. Then we turned around and looked into the heart of Oakland, E.14th Street, and watched the same size fireworks, none of them sanctioned by any city manager, and therefore MUCH more exciting.

I’m ready to go back to work, just to get a rest. Bethany’s in town, too, house-sitting a coworker’s house, so we’ve been playing. Yesterday she and I drove out to Marin where we did a little yarn-fondling at Dharma Trading, followed by clam chowder on the deck of Sam’s in Tiburon, watching the boats rock and the fog bank swell over San Francisco. It was a gorgeous sunny convertible-top-down kind of day. Followed by a fabulous dinner with both sisters and friends, and Baskin Robbins sundaes for desert, who could ask for anything more?

Here’re some of my favorite parts of my haul – Christy framed this strip of photos we took, and it was perfect, one of those things I had completely forgotten about and that utterly delighted me when I saw them again. And Bethany got me real Shaker yarn (and a color card, she’s no dummy). Look at these edible colors! Whoo hooo!

Today is devoted to getting ready to go back to work – things like laundry and grocery shopping. Ew. And I’m throwing in a little pool running, with Bethany. I’m letting my muscles heal, giving them a good ten days. I don’t like it, but I have to quit being stoopid about it. I just worry that when I go back to my pace group on Sunday I’ll be so far behind them in the training that they’ll all laugh at me and leave me crying in the dirt. Well, I don’t really think that’ll happen. But it’s a midnight fear.

Bother. My head will not cooperate with the rest of my body. I’ve just been sitting here, staring. I’ve got the second load of laundry in, but I’m going to have to skip doing the sheets today, because the kitties are on them, refusing to let go. Of course they’re sleeping now. They weren’t at 5am, but now? Sure, out like two little lights. Usually I like to wash the sheets and put them right back on the bed, since I only have one set I like. Oh, it’s worth sleeping on the second best set, I suppose. They look so happy. In a zonked out kind of way.

I am so hopelessly boring today. Post-party dullness. Yawn.