Another quiet few days, even after thinking I'd conquered whatever it was that was keeping me silent before! Silly me, always getting ahead of myself. It feels different this time, this inability to set anything down on paper or pixels--less feeling-numb and more feeling-boring. Pish! you say. You are never boring! That's why we keep reading! Well, thank you for your kind words, but there are indeed days where I am boring, and it's too much of a stretch to try to make it sound interesting. Wake up, go to work, come home, go to sleep. Those days. I fear not just becoming a bore, but being repetitiously boring--how many trips to IKEA or Home Depot can you stand to hear about?? I would be long gone by now.

And thus, I am silent.

It's been a nice weekend, though--Friday night was dinner at the Greenlake Bar & Grill with Dave and Quincy, then a late showing of (oh shut up, you are SO going to laugh at us) Blue Crush. We were officially the oldest people in the audience (now, imagine how that makes me feel, at a mere 22 years of age. D and Q and Boy all have a couple years on me. Heh. I should make jokes about needing walkers and wheelchairs or something.) but man. What a movie. Sooo many bikinis, so little time.

Home to bed after that, then up early yesterday to get some house stuff done--I've been slowly picking away at the Blue Room, since people will be sleeping there come Labor Day. I've finished rearranging the furniture and putting the linens on the bed, now it's just folding the spare linens for the chest of drawers in the closet and putting books in the little blue bookshelf.

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Did some laundry, poked at my plants--I almost forgot to tell you! I transplanted all my herbs on Friday night, waiting for Boy to get home. They've been in a beautiful silver planter embossed with dragonflies, but things were getting pretty crowded. The oregano was the worst offender, branching out in every direction--and once it started flowering, things reeeally got tight. The rosemary is turning into a miniature tree, smushing the lavendar; the lemon thyme is looking rather shrub-ish, and the chives were choking between them all. This, of course, is to say nothing of the basil, which had withered into a pathetic lump under the billowing oregano. So, into the ground they go, right in the front garden south of the flowers and ivy I planted a few weeks ago. It seems like a good spot for them--not too sunny, not too shady, nice brick wall behind them to crawl up (I'm talking to YOU, mister oregano. what a troublemaker); I just hope they can all survive the impending attacks by the uberaggressive (and waist-high! good lord.) mint.

Where was I? Oh! Saturday. Picked D&Q up, headed to Carnation of all places--it was the company picnick for Boy and Q, and thusly for Dave and myself as well. Lots of people, lots of kids--at one point I make the witty remark: "I feel like we're missing an important accessory--namely, four squalling brats" and later "I feel like I've forgotten where we parked the stroller", because I am witty and clever and amusing when doused with sunshine. Lots and lots of sunshine, so much so that I left the picnick grouchy and with headache--it went away after a few minutes of air-conditioned car and a Nelly song on the radio. Weird. We had a great time, though--burgers and hotdogs and potato salad and watermelon and ice cream bars and sno cones and sack races and airbrushed tattoos (I got an anchor, do you know why? Arrgh! pirates.) and of course, the ubiquitous broomball. Watching Jeff Bezos play broomball is just silly--it was like Woody Allen got a haircut, ditched the glasses and put on shinguards.

Drove home, sat down, didn't move for two hours.

Then we bought a new gas range. Rock.

Dinner, then home again, then sleep.

See? Repetition.

However, things will quickly heat up--Labor Day fast approaches, Blondie FINALLY comes home tomorrow, possibly some news about work tomorrow as well, fetish party tonight, and...more laundry to do right now.

No more silence.