Clean-up on Aisle Bored!

If you could had the choice between hiking and grocery shopping, which would you choose? I'll bet you a figurative dollar that nine times out of ten the answer will be 'hiking'.

Now give me that dollar. I didn't. On a retreat the other week, I was given the option of hiking or going into town to restock our kitchen. Never let it be said that I am a thrill-seeker; my decision was made within a matter of minutes. I chose to go with a few friends to the store while the rest of the group spent the day climbing rocks and admiring vistas. The trailblazers looked at our group like we were insane. What kind of person voluntarily chooses to look at food when all of the forest is before you? Friends and acquaintances temporarily shunned me - or begged me to be a normal teenager and come with them. Tall tales and inside jokes would be in abundance when they came back. Treetops and idyllic joy. Teenagers and instant jaw-droppers. As tantalizing as it sounded, I still refused. Do I regret my choice? Not a whit.

Hiking, hanging out, goofing off - I'll be the first to admit that these things can be a blast. But I also know that there are times when I need quiet; need the relative normalcy of a simple shopping trip. That was what I was expecting when we left. A nice, staid, low-key scavenger hunt for the items on our list. Wrong.

Honestly, I can't remember when I've ever had more fun in a grocery store. Two of my friends took half the list, and a leader and I set out to find the other items. I can't adequately relate the frustration, panic, and uncertainty of choosing one type of cake mix over the other. Seriously: you have to figure out how many mixes you need, then choose a brand, and then a flavor, and then a flavor within that flavor (who knew there could be so many types of vanilla cake?!). It's cake, people! Neither can I satisfactorily portray the look on my leader's face when he saw how many different types of chip dip my friends had gathered. There were no fewer than eighteen varieties. I think we're a little spoiled if we have that much dip to pick from. The traffic jam we caused, guffawing over the ridiculousness of the situation, took two or three tries to clear up. The process of selecting ice cream took a good ten minutes - enough time for one of my friends to pick up lots of new, unwanted admirers. Lesson, dear readers - don't wave at strange middle-aged men. Ever. Deciding what was absolutely necessary and what could wait left everyone breathless. Cap'n Crunch is apparently more important than orange juice - go figure. Eventually we purchased what we needed and vacated the premises. At the end of the day, we weren't as tired as everyone else (though I'd say we got the same amount of exercise, running around the store, wouldn't you?) And I'm fairly sure that, out of the entire week, our little expedition was the highlight for all of us. That store will never be the same again.

What made it fun? Maybe it was the fact that everyone was a tad delirious from a week of going to bed at 3 am. Maybe it was because the four of us were doing something no one else wanted to do. Maybe it was that we were determined to have just as much fun - and more - as the hikers. I think it was a combination of these and one thing else: when you're with a group of people you love spending time with, anything and everything can turn into an adventure. Even cake mix and dip.

En Garde!

Funny thing. I make all kinds of jewelry, but the only type I'll wear are earrings. Necklaces tend to make me hunch over, bracelets get in the way, and don't even get me started on rings. So it's not surprising that I have a jewelry box filled with earrings (and the other random flotsam and jetsam that winds up in there). Unique pieces are my favorites. I have a pair of clock earrings (no, they don't work, unfortunately) that my mother bought me on a family vacation; I absolutely love them. Some women go for flashy bracelets or strings of pearls. While these things are pretty, I've chosen the road less-traveled - and that has made all the difference. Blown glass, intricate details, vintage brass, even chain maille - if it's unique, I'm going to want it.
Just like I want these earrings.




No, I'm not someone with multiple piercings, nor do I consider myself a punker, rocker, biker chick, rockabilly, whatever-you-want-to-call-it. But the idea of sword earrings strikes me as delightfully ironic. I believe women are stronger than they look. As Eleanor Roosevelt said, "A woman is like a tea bag - you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water." Jewelry is considered incredibly feminine; swords are the tools of warriors. When the two are combined, it feels like the wearer is saying "I know how to defend myself - and look good doing it!" Though, that could just be me.

White Collar

White Collar, USA Network's amazing show, premiered Season 2 last night. I couldn't be there (and, now that I think of it, can't be there) because of my commitments. Oh well. I plan on being at the computer every single Wednesday morning, glued to Hulu.
All this to say: I'm so ecstatic for White Collar's return! My friends stare at me in dismay, wondering how on earth I could possibly love that show as much as I do - and then they remember that it's me, which explains everything.
Truthfully, it would take me a long time to answer why it appeals to me so much. Maybe it's because White Collar is a show about (surprise!) white collar crime. Not that I condone it - but this series is so different than the others. Criminals actually think, bloodshed is minimal, and...okay, fine. Neal Caffrey is cute. I said it. The world can read it, now. Anyway...White Collar is a show that forces the viewer to buckle in or step to the side. Doze off and you'll be hopelessly lost. It's frustrating at times, but I'd rather watch something that forces me to think outside the box than a stale half-hour diversion (I'm not going to mention Spongebob or anything like that because, well, that would be just cruel to those poor, deprived viewers, wouldn't it?). I realize the show has its faults, but I'm going to overlook them and just maybe have fun with a few constructed fabrications. Working for the FBI with a character like Neal wouldn't be half bad...

Chirp!

I have a confession to make. I am not an animal person. Dogs and cats and birds and fish are all cute in their rightful places, but given the choice between being responsible for an animal and collecting caricatured figurines, give me the silent little shelf-takers. Glass birds have always captured my fancy. I grew up watching my mother's glass hummingbird ornaments spin on their threads, and now I've determined to collect as many of the tiny chirpers as I can. As of now, I have about eight. All named. Pretty sad - but very pretty!