Random Thoughts Thursday 80
- We had a nice Christmas with Steven’s dad and brother. I am grateful that they enjoy traveling out here for the holiday, and especially that they were up for it this year, with us living in a small rental house (with no cable!!!!!! <— insert cat making home alone face emoji).
Me and my boys! Even Data cooperates for the family photo!
- Ugh, but this Christmas, the amount I hate to cook was intensified by the kitchen in the rental house. GRRRRRR. Sigh. I am grateful to have a home at all. And to be renting a home that could host guests, yes. But GAWD, it would be nice to have hot water at the kitchen sink, a dishwasher that is attached to the counter top, some counter space, and cupboard space. Wah wah wah. Whatever, the food turned out good. And you guys know that Steven does 95% of the cooking, anyway (so then it must have been really bad for me to complain, muah ha ha!).
From L to R: breakfast, dinner, X-wing and Death Star ice cubes (!!!) and chocolate pudding pie. Ha ha ha, that pie. I decided to make the crust with the Aldi-brand oreo peppermint cookies (SO GOOD)… 28 of them. So we’re eating the pie and Steven’s like, “how many oreos are in this?” “28!” “No… how many are in ONE slice?” “UM… DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT! It’s Christmas!” Yeah… the leftovers for that went in the trash on Monday.
- When I was doing my long runs during marathon training, I’d just listen to my entire music collection on shuffle, instead of making a playlist. Toward the end of some long runs, as I got low on energy, I’d skip songs a lot more, feeling annoyed with what I was listening to, looking for something more upbeat. Skipping songs was obviously a sign that I needed something to pump me back up. So I put together an upbeat playlist with all my favorite songs on it for the marathon, and it worked! I don’t recall skipping any songs, and this song (below) made me feel so good, I played it once more on repeat after it came on!
I keep expecting Mad Max to show up in the video, ha.
- Each year, in the end of December, WordPress sends me an email “Your [insert year here] year in blogging” with some stats they’ve pulled about most popular posts, the longest posting streak (in days), posts with most comments, etc. It’s interesting to me that the posts on my site that get the most hits are ones I wrote 5-7 years ago. Ha! And especially interesting to me that all my top commenters (most comments left) last year were people I know in real life. This year, they are all people I’ve never met. I understand these stats mean my blog is not growing in popularity (fine by me) and that people I know in real life comment less, and may read less (also, fine by me). I write this blog for me, and appreciate any comments, ever (thank you!)! It’s not too surprising that the top commenters are new people. Blogs seems to be cyclical, and I am sure there are only so many times you can comment on the shiz I write without feeling like you’ve read it, and written that comment, before, and feel like moving on. Ha!
- I am surprised how many people seemed astonished when I told them (after they inquired) how much time I got off for the holidays at my federal job. Guys. I work for the federal government. We get federal holidays off – that’s it. I thought it was cool that Obama signed an executive order so we could have a half day on December 24! Don’t worry about me… I am very satisfied with the perks at my job.
- Noooooo, Running Times is no longer going to be published! It was my favorite magazine! I’m very sad that the issue I got this week is apparently the last (and that it oddly doesn’t mention it anywhere, that I’ve seen, in the issue, update: after I wrote this, I got a mailer telling me about it, and that my Runner’s World subscription will be extended). I had even saved a subscription card out of the issue to gift it to someone. Bummer. I guess it was a huge sign last year when they reduced the amount of issues from 10 to 6. Sigh. I don’t want to read that content online. I loved getting the magazine in the mail. Bummer, bummer, bummer.