and a loris in a pear tree
On the Fourteenth Day of Sockmas, my true love gave to me... Raver workout reindeer, Electroimpact topper, Amazon invasion, timered lights a'lighting, a small sporting good store, nine merry monkeys, a cardio tiara, furry feline footsies, arch-saving shape-ups, sniffling date-night(!), melting credit cards, a holly jolly head cold, one sock-saucy simian, and a loris in a pear tree.
All around me, gentlemen with hair as silver as their sneakers (and perhaps as worn); dingy t-shirts rustling placidly above loose and conservative gym shorts. All about me a gentle purr of the elliptical warm up.
One of these exercisers was not like the other. My hair atop my head in a fluffy bun, bopping wildly in time to the dance-party piped into my ears alone, happy reindeer scaling up my calves to meet blue streaked capris, my lips flexing in silent(ish) song...tearing through endless ellipses at double and a half time. I like to think my youthful elan was appreciated, but I suspect the symphonic spasms may have been unsettling for my cardio compatriots.
If I keep up this elliptical machining thing, I may have to buy myself a flashier workout wardrobe. Because I'm realizing that I am getting the exercise kick of a good hard dance from my workouts. I've been putting on old playlists labeled "running" on my google play. Just fast enough for my usual running cadence, and even more cardiac-inducing when I am pushing and pulling with my arms on a low impact machine. It's the same high and the same ecstatic exudation as in olden days of clubbing. But with less awesome clothes. So clearly, my workout clothes need more sparkle.
And yes, our DINK morning began with a workout (well technically, it began with coffee, and a desultory languor on the sofa, but after that...). Kind of a parallel workout, as strayed to his grunting-man side and I kept to the middle machines today. He, of course, has decided to continue his workout and is off somewhere with a bike and a mountain. I'm back in a robe, managing the laundry and eating roughly twenty tons of food.
There eventually will be dinner and perhaps I'll hang the last string of lights somewhere in the bedroom. Or perhaps Andrew's bike. One of them.
On the Fifteenth Day of Sockmas, my true love gave to me... automata adornment, Raver workout reindeer, Electroimpact topper, Amazon invasion, timered lights a'lighting, a small sporting good store, nine merry monkeys, a cardio tiara, furry feline footsies, arch-saving shape-ups, sniffling date-night(!), melting credit cards, a holly jolly head cold, one sock-saucy simian, and a loris in a pear tree.
Meet 2013's featured ornament of the year! I figured a cute little machine just about summed up the big old 2013 changes in my newly (W)righted life. After some ordering-coordinating watoosie, this little guy made it to our happy home. He's roughly half the size of our "tree" so he's currently made his home on one of our door jambs. Luckily it's the door to the outside porch, so it's unlikely the door will be flung wide-open and our little bauble smithereened. I hope to never utter the horrified exclamation "you broke our love-bot!" (especially, not, if we have company at the time!).
And it's the final weekend before Christmasiness really heats up and does a happy samba on our hearts and souls. I may or may not have all of my gifts amassed at this point. After dropping by my mom's for a thorough review of the mystery packages upon my porch, I will know whether or not I actually am prepared for Christmas or whether there will be later-minute rushes to the nearest brick and mortar.
Speaking of, Andrew may make my gift a bit of a participatory endeavor to - horror of horrors - REI. Apparently, a water repellent coat with enormous holes ripped between seams at each shoulder (I am not the hulk, I think) is less effective or something. I will need a few cups of coffee to rev up for being in one of these physically tangible emporiums, but I've been meaning to buy some super-feet (super-feet, they're super-feety!) for my super-achey-archy feet. I hear that super-feet work wonders, so I'd like to give them a shot. I have tried to try them on before, but succumb to retail panic and fled the store at the nearest sight of a salesperson. I think I can steel myself with enough coffee to at least get a few words out this time, and besides i'm a bit hobbled so running isn't as possible!
Whatever may come, I'm sure I'll emerge with only several wrapping paper cuts and bows in my hair! Wishing you all a happy and lucky Third Sunday of Advent/Almost Time for the BIG EVENT!
On the Sixteenth Day of Sockwars, my true love gave to me... holiday alarm clock, automata adornment, raver workout reindeer, Electroimpact topper, Amazon invasion, timered lights a'lighting, a small sporting good store, nine merry monkeys, a cardio tiara, furry feline footsies, arch-saving shape-ups, sniffling date-night(!), melting credit cards, a holly jolly head cold, one sock-saucy simian, and a loris in a pear tree.
It's that weird time of year where sunset is getting later again (phew, because 4:15 p.m. was exponentially more depressing than 4:17 p.m.), but the dawn is also sluggishly later. Apparently the latest sunrise isn't until early January, in fact. Per the Atlantic, I blame it on the Earth's non-circular orbit and its tilt in relation to the sun. But per my heart, I blame it on eternal winter and the slow torpid death of the sun. Anyways, as wakey-wakey time gets further and further apart from solar emergence, it does get a tad bit challenging to pull off our own rising and shining in a timely manner. Our room needed adornment anyways, so the final string of Christmas lights are now on a timer for 5:00 a.m. Or thereabouts. Impossible to set these little timers correctly, I swear. Today the festival of lights came on at about 4:40ish or so. I changed some things around, so it may turn on at 5:10 tomorrow, or maybe 2:36... who can say?? But it will be a delightful surprise!
To carry on the holiday carousel, Andrew and I braved REI to browse things that may or may not be related to somebody's gift from a certain somebody else. The first somebody would be me. The second would be Andrew, and I pretty much picked out the gift, but I insist that it does not exist until Christmas day. Gosh darnit, I like pretty foiled packages and surprises and anticipation and I'll humor those who don't care for it as much, but only if they'll humor me back. So, as far as I'm concerned, we browsed REI for no particular reason before being horrified into browsing Fred Meyer's for no particular reason. And for nary any particular reason, Fred Meyers was far more fruitful of a trip despite having a significantly smaller and more discounted section of no particular options.
Since REI didn't open its mawing gates of disappointment until eleven, we had time to get our hair cut and finish up some groceries. And since the horror of REI blended with the soothing basalm of Fred Meyers efficiency, we were nicely finished and ready for our respective afternoon activities in short shrift. I went on a wrapping binge at my mom's house and Andrew - you'll never guess - went back onto the side of a mountain!
The tree looks far more festive now, and the shower far muddier. All is well in time for the final surreal full week of work.
On the Seventeenth Day of Sockwars, my true love gave to me... a festivus subpoena, holiday alarm clock, automata adornment, raver workout reindeer, Electroimpact topper, Amazon invasion, timered lights a'lighting, a small sporting good store, nine merry monkeys, a cardio tiara, furry feline footsies, arch-saving shape-ups, sniffling date-night(!), melting credit cards, a holly jolly head cold, one sock-saucy simian, and a loris in a pear tree.
In case anyone wonders why I prefer not to answer the door: Back on my 28th birthday, I was spending some time at my mom's house after a celebratory massage when the doorbell rang. My mom felt oddly compelled to answer it and equally compelled to call my name out when somebody asked for me. Turned out that it was a service processor, and I was personally served with a very special set of papers naming me as the defendant in the eternal car crash litigation that finally ended (or did it?? I always worry I was delusional about that whole "you're not liable hooray!" letter I finally got after several labored odysseys into legal-legal land). Darned process server didn't even try to sing happy birthday while she was there!
Anyways, imagine the ice in my ichor when another process server managed to arrive at the office when nobody else was around and ask for Adella Thompson Wright. I stared confoundedly at the seas of supboena typology sloshing about these proffered papers. Searching the case caption for any hint of familiarity. My name was not in the caption. This is always a good sign. Looked like I was also being named as "custodian of the records for the Whatcom Collaborative Law yadda yadda yadda." Ok, even better. Not me, but THE WCP is in hot water for something, right?
Anyways, turns out it has something to do with a dissolution that one of our momentary members was involved in. From what I can tell of the online search of the case file, several other WCP members were involved in her divorce at one point or other before and a little bit during her fairly brief membership. Anyways, I'm quite amused at the idea of my minutes (oh yes they want them all) being fodder in some nasty little dissolution discovery process. You've had samples here in internet land. I don't exactly veer on the abstemious side when it comes to commemorating "official" acta. Not that we don't all love Joycian Wheedon fan fiction peppered with a sparing dash of actual fact and a series of nonsensical you had to be there, but even that probable wouldn't have helped much unless you're also fairly knowledgeable yet insipid references. But well, I can't really send these without the board checking into it and seeing if this affects our legal position in any way. Of course I'm supposed to provide records by end of next week. I won't be here next week.
I'll make sure to include some holiday cards with whatever I send to the demanding attorney (either the records or an objection)!
Supplemental legal embroglios aside, my last work week of 2013 started off well. Our decision came back on the bizarro trial from last week. It was favorable to our client and, by extension (in the opinion of our office and the involved professionals) favorable to the children. The biggest point of vindication was that the other attorney did not get his attorney fees. Our theory has been that he needlessly concocted the crises that brought us to trial in the hopes that he would recover his manufactured legal fees from our client. Sure, now, the other party will owe him a debt she can never likely repay and our client with a debt he won't likely address any time too. But at least he didn't benefit personally from the insipidity. And that is one sprig of holiday holly in my world.
And on to my holiday drafting of final papers! Oh the festivity of it all!!