Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

The good. The hard. They seem to be alternating so quickly that it’s almost impossible to keep track. Cycles.

So I lost my iPhone which was hard. But then the guy who found it was the sweetest, most wonderful person in the entire world so that was good.

Or: being crazy busy before going on vacation was hard but then being on vacation was good but coming back from it was depressing and nightmarish hard.

Then the Celtics beat Orlando. And then they didn’t. Never mind. Let’s do this thing.

The hard stuff

Vacation hangover.

Foggy brain. Not wanting to get back to work. Delaying things.

Plus taking hours and hours to write blog posts and then not getting them posted until the day is half over.

It was as if my whole body-mind was pleading with me to take another four-day weekend, effective immediately.

Actually, more than vacation hangover … it was something else. It was more like vacation deficit.

Like when you get lots of sleep but you’re still tired because your body hasn’t caught up from all those times you beat the crap out of it.

I have the sinking feeling that my vacation deficit is way, way, way too enormous. Sensing that my duck and I might need some serious time off soon.


Now officially added to my list of places I never wish to go near again.

Not that I didn’t madly love Lake Tahoe because I did. But if getting there means the Reno airport, next time we’ll drive, thank you.

I’ve talked before about how life as a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP) is not exactly always the most fun thing in the world.

Taking someone who is hypersensitive and putting them in a shabby, dingy airport full of earsplittingly loud slot machines with garish lights, and watching them (okay, me) completely lose it might be entertaining, but it’s not too attractive.

That incessant blooping. Made only worse by the bleeping. Oh, and the awful flashing colored lights.

I was pretty much a wreck. It sucked.

Still with the system changes.

One step forward, one step back. Still doing the systems thing.

Of course, the nice thing about clearing all the enormous rocks out of your path is that you’re not tripping over them anymore.

The annoying thing about it is that now you really notice all those pebbles in your shoe.

Ow. Ow.

I want more vacation! Wah!

Taking a long, lazy, weekend somewhere beautiful is the most delicious thing in the entire world and I must do it again as soon as possible.

Which leads me to …

The good stuff

Four day weekend, baby..

Life-changingly great.

I am determined to have many more of these. Soon.

You know what else was dreamy? Four whole days without the computer. Not as hard as I thought. And really, really nice.

Also: we (me, my gentleman friend and Selma) went hiking in national parks. And we ate ridiculously great breakfasts.

And I got to do yoga in the morning which never happens because usually I write a post right after my morning meditation. Bliss.

The wedding.

So I did have a few seconds of total bewilderment when my gentleman friend told me that his high school girlfriend had asked him to marry her. Off.

You know, to someone else.

The wedding was awesome. First of all, she’s the coolest person ever. And the guy she married is amazing. And I adored all their friends.

And they invited my duck to the ceremony.

Also, it was the first goth-hippie-punk-scooter wedding (or something) I’ve ever attended. Also my first pastafarian (you know, the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster) ceremony.

It was goofy and spontaneous and fun and moving and I cried.

The best part, though, was when some lady saw us all walking down to the sunny beach in our black dresses — and asked if it was a memorial. Nice!

Not that I would get married again, necessarily, but if I ever did, I would also want the bridesmaids to be covered in skull and bat tattoos because that was totally hot.

The eleven hour brunch!

Well, breakfast is the three most important meals of the day. Heaven.

Back home. Thank goodness

Portland! Where everything is lush and green and gorgeous and not so freaking loud.

There are so many things to love about this city. Admittedly the fact that it’s pretty good at not being Reno is one I’d never thought of … but now I appreciate that too.

Being on email sabbatical is the best thing that ever happened to me.

That’s pretty much all I have to say about that but it’s really, really fantastic.

And … STUISMS of the week.

Stu is my paranoid McCarthy-ist voice-to-text software who delights in torturing me misunderstanding me. I can’t stand him. Because he’s an acetyl .

  • “Leonard is a bard about” instead of the hardest part about
  • “to have encumbered stations” instead of having conversations
  • “That Senator business” instead of that’s none of your business
  • “What about hubby’s brother” instead of what about Havi’s mother
  • “is learning a Jersey sieve” instead of is learning to receive
  • “pig glue” instead of igloo
  • “jester direction” instead of just a direction
  • “I was Frink yesterday” instead of I was at my friend Carolyn’s yesterday
  • “I could have a magic opera cloak” instead of a magic hacker cloak
  • “not a partnership” instead of not a pirate ship

Freudian Stuism!

  • “The fear-based Alliance” instead of their fear-based lives

And for good measure … a Shakespearian Stuism:

  • “in witch I Dictate them to stew” instead of in which I dictate them to Stu

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.

The Fluent Self