There's an App for That

Six of the most annoying words in the English vocabulary:

COULD NOT ACTIVATE CELLULAR DATA NETWORK

I am unabashedly, unequivocally IN LOVE with my iPhone. That's right, iHeart my iPhone. Despite what that "other company" says about AT&T's dead zones, or lack of service area (or whatever they're calling it in their ads this week), I rarely have issues connecting to the server. And my phone is now over a year old, rendering it antiquated and nearly obsolete in the world of cellular electronics.

That, my friends, is what makes the last hour of my time with my beloved smart phone so completely frustrating. I was away from my PC for a mere hour and a half, and felt completely lost (that kind of says something about me, doesn't it?). Don't get me wrong, I can float away from cyberspace (with only slight detoxing side effects) for hours and hours, but this weekend, I will be leaving Big Daddy and the kids to fend for themselves for four days, so there are many a plan to be finalized and all that. This is no time to be unplugged. Unnecessary anxiety has set in.

What's wrong with my phone? What if it's broken. What if I don't have a phone over my weekend away?

I have tried to connect no less than 1,000,000,000 times over the past hour and five minutes, with those same God-awful words popping up every time.

Let me try to distract myself with something else.....

You know how, "they got an app for that?" Most (all) of my apps are FOC, just because I don't have time or $$ to invest in the fancy stuff. Many would accuse me of not fully reaching my iPhone potential. Call me a simpleton. I still have my favorites. Here are some top-billed (free) apps in Aleighopolis:

Words Free (Words With Friends) - my new favorite. My Sis-in-Law got me started in this virtual scrabble game, and now we're in constant battle - me in Philly, she in Ft. Worth. She and my nephew are the only people I engage in wordplay with, and I have yet to win a game. Although, I have to say, I WAS winning one round, and mysteriously, it disappeared. Never to be heard from again. I smell hijinks (which would make a kick-ass triple word play).



ESPN ScoreCenter - most fervently used during the fall to keep track of the Indianapolis Colts and the Philadelphia Phillies post-season play.

Shazam - musical voodoo at the touch of a screen.

Notes & Voice Memos - great for quick citations. Remember when we used to have to write notes on paper?!? How archaic!

I realize these aren't the most titillating of iPhone applications, but they serve me well on a day to day basis (and I suppose I would be remiss to leave off facebook mobile for obvioso reasons). If you want apps that would incite a riot (or at the very least, make a middle-aged mama squeal with delight), how about creating one of these:


The Carpool - At the tap of your screen, coordinate with your entire contact list to determine who could drive whom when and where, thus avoiding endless emails, texts, and phone calls with said network.



Copperfield Dinner - type in your random on-hand ingredients (mine would read 2 cans of chicken, a sleeve of saltines, a jar of green olives and ranch dressing), and feast your eyes on a delectable gourmet recipe, complete with calorie, fat, and carb count.

Personal Trainer (from Hades) - This app would work on an interval training schedule, alerting you to various cardio and strength-training feats throughout your day. One may find themselves shopping in Target, when "Personal Trainer" demands they "drop and give him two sets of ten!"


Extraordinary Excuses - Keep this one on page one for quick reference when asked to chair the next fundraising event at your child's school.

Grocery Getter - This app acts as a liason between you and your favorite, local supermarket. You input your grocery list and debit card info, and the store has everything grabbed off the shelves, bagged in recycled totes, and waiting for you curbside as you do a food drive-by.

And how about one more....

Because I'm the Mom! - this would be random comebacks to your children's most annoying questions and requests.

Tween Daughter: Mom! Why can't I go to the Katy Perry concert?

Because I'm the Mom: Because I said so!

Wait - I could create that one myself on my voice memo app!

So what's your favorite app? What's your dream app?

By the way....crisis averted. Very few iPhone problems CAN'T be fixed by simply turning it off and turning it back on.

Kind of like Big Daddy.

One Down. Eleven to Go.

Wow! My mind is 1/12 freer. Not kidding. I am on my way to a clutter-free cranium!

My apologies for not being much of a motivator for the Project 12 Rooms in 12 Months, but BIG THANKS to all of YOU for motivating ME to complete my first project in the first month. Accountability, people. I made you a promise, and I kept it. And here is my reward:



You know what I love? I love when one of my kids tells me they need a blue erasable pen for school and I can say, "mudroom, bottom right drawer" without hesitation. That's power, my peeps. Check out the big "OM" on my unitard - "Organized Mommy."

If you're wondering what's in those boxes up top, the answer would be, from left to right, top to bottom:

Pictures
Pictures
Fancy present toppers
"Extra parts" for "stuff"
Gifts
Gifts
Gifts
Gifts
Bows & tissue paper
Gift bags
Gifts

The biggest accomplishment in the laundry room was getting all of the clothes upstairs in the proper closet. Claustrophobia cured! My itty-bitty laundry room now feels cozy instead of cramped. Note that I still keep the kids' team uniforms hanging here on the right. Again...

Them: Mom! Where are my baseball pants/shirt/vest/belt/socks?
Me: Laundry room. Hanging up on the right.

Organized Mom saves the day AGAIN!


You know what else feels roomier? This petite little mudroom closet. The over-the-door shoe rack is still filled with all kinds of things - from hole punchers to screwdrivers to fancy empty boxes to packing tape. I find no reason to disturb the organized chaos happening here. But check out the closet innards.....













And now, the piece de resistance....







Surprise! I had my powder room turned into a little jewel box! Isn't it adorable?!? I have a love/hate relationship with wallpaper. I hate "their" wallpaper, but I LOVE MY WALLPAPER! Actually, this is only the third time I have had wallpaper slapped up in my house, and one was a neutral textured paper, but I was looking for a bold, modern floral and this is it!





**DISCLAIMER: Project 12-in-12 is not about spending money on redecorating; however, if it is on the to-do list, "git'er done." **

Voila! So there you have it! My first of twelve rooms (which was actually three rooms rolled into one), is complete! And for my next trick - the living room:



I get a lot of compliments on this room, and at first glance I can understand why. It's trendy, but tasteful...well-balanced...warm and inviting. But, as the owner of this living room, trust me when I say it kills me (that's right, my LIVING room KILLS me).

Look at those 25 cubbies. Shelving units are our best friends and our worst enemies. Three words: Purge. Purge. Purge. And even though this room has been put together over time...pieces purchased for other rooms in other homes, brought together here, it still feels a little "Rooms to Go" to me. I need to edit and add in order to produce a more eclectic vibe, which is more my style.





This corner has always posed a problem...since moving in. It's a great hiding spot behind the foyer closet.




I have a bad habit of this, too. Propping "soon to be hung" items up against the wall. These were "soon to be hung" when we moved in 2 years ago.



And this closet needs the same TLC I showed in the mudroom...




One more thing. Take a look at what used to be a fabulous second-hand find for the "I love me some vintage furniture" shopper girl.




It's a liquor cabinet. Check out how it becomes a server bar. This little number has seen many a wild party in it's heyday.




Why is it lopsided, you ask? That happened Saturday night. No joke. Just two days ago.

Big Daddy was out of town this weekend. ZuZu had a friend stay over Saturday night, and the boys asked a couple of neighborhood friends to spend the night, too. As they were all having a dance party via Comcast On Demand videos in our family room, my neighbor (the boys' mom) was graciously inviting us all down for Belgian waffles and bacon the next morning. Lovely. We continue our chat, which suddenly veers a little off topic.

She: Do you guys have a hamster?

Me: Yeah. (she doesn't read my blog, but I thought she knew this)

She: Is he black?

Me: Yeah! WhyyYY?!? (escalating with realization) IS HE OUT?!?

She: Yeah, he just ran under the couch.

Me: ZUZU!!!!!

At this point, I do a vertical leap somewhere between 6 inches and 6 feet, and my bum comes crashing down on top of this liquor cabinet, which proceeds to make a crunching sound as the wheeled leg is forced through 60-year old rotting wood and slams onto the foyer floor (me, sliding off, running into the kitchen and jumping onto sturdier, more stable Quartz countertopped kitchen island).

The kids have made a barrier across the room, and my friend urges ZuZu to go get the hamster. She's frozen with fear. I JUST NOW find out that Scooter bit my son on the first day we had the stupid hamster, and ZuZu has been afraid to hold him ever since (TOLDYA SO! TOLDYA SO! TOLDYA TOLDYA TOLDYA TOLDYA TOLDYA SO!)

My neighbor's son finally captured the rodent without further incident, and he was placed back in his cage with the non-secured hole NOW taped closed. You all told me it was just a matter of time. Luckily, he was lost & found all at once. In fact, he was kind of found first. He was found, before we knew he was lost.

Freakin' hamster.
Freakin' ZuZu.

p.s. Mudroom Before & Afters will be in an album on my Aleighopolis facebook page.

Flashback Friday: I am an Extrovert. Deal With It.

FYI, my MO is to OA (over-analyze). Oh...you noticed? Yeah, I know. This week's posts have been a tad dramatic, eh? A little lame. Self-absorbed, even. Humor me a smidge longer. It's time for (cue the reverb) FLASHBACK FRIDAY!!!




Back in the fall of 1992, Big Daddy and I were engaged to be married. Just a couple of crazy kids in love....fresh out of college...starting our careers...ready to take on the world. We were being married in the Catholic Church, and therefore, participated in Pre-Cana classes with the priest.





"Slick"ipedia has this to say about Pre-Cana:

"Pre-Cana is a course or consultation Catholic couples must undergo before they can be married in a Catholic church. The name is derived from John 2:1-12, the wedding feast at Cana in Galilee, where Jesus performed the miracle of turning water into wine."

(oh, that's kinda cool. see, even God knows a good marriage requires good wine.)


"Approaches to Pre-Cana vary among Catholic dioceses and parishes. Often six weekly sessions will be led by a priest or deacon with support from a married Catholic couple. Common topics include: compatibility of the couple, basic principles of Catholic marriage and family life (namely theological meaning of marriage), conflict resolution within marriage, rules the couple are expected to follow."

So, fine. Topics included child-bearing and child-rearing, finances, gender roles, etc. For the most part, Big Daddy and I were on the same page. No big surprises. But the most valuable part of the 6-week course proved incredibly insightful.

Father Bob: A, would you consider yourself an introvert or an extrovert?

Me: Have you MET me?

Father Bob: Right, you're an extrovert. And you (turning to Big Daddy) would consider yourself an introvert, am I right?

Big Daddy: Yes.

Father Bob: So what do you think that means?

Me: Is this a trick question? I'm more outgoing and social. Big Daddy is more reserved and shy in big crowds.

Father Bob: It can mean that, yes. But what you REALLY need to remember as a married couple is that you, as an extrovert, make decisions EXTERNALLY. You need to talk your way to an answer. You pose both sides (or many sides) to the question before coming to a conclusion. And you (Big Daddy), as an introvert, INTERNALIZE everything quietly before reaching your conclusion. And then, and only then, will you give an answer.

Me: (squints eyes) Uh-huh.....so who's right?

Of course, Father Bob went on to explain that neither is right or wrong, but that it would be necessary to remember this as we navigated through life as a couple. He warned me not to get frustrated and think that Big Daddy wasn't listening to me just because he wasn't chiming in. And he explained to Big Daddy that as I'm working through my problem, it's not his duty to solve the problem or come to the conclusion FOR ME and blurt it out definitively at the end. Indeed, I may still be talking my way through the issue. Good advice. We still remind ourselves of this lesson often.

Do you see where I'm going with this? This week's posts have been my "out loud decision-making 'to blog or not to blog' extrovert-on-crack-kind of discussion. I've written about my personal hang-ups, discomforts, and even annoyances in the Land of Blog. And judging by the public and private messages I've received on the subject, it seems I'm not the only one who views those traveling awards as the blogosphere's equivalent of an e-mail forward promising that your wish will come true by morning if you just say the prayer and forward to seventy-two of your closest friends in the next three and a half minutes. But if you don't, you will have fourteen years of bad luck. And you will never get a book deal. And your dog will die. But for the most part, bloggers pass those awards on. To be nice. And because they want to be published. And they don't want their dogs to die.

More flashback:

Sonny Crockett: Are you going somewhere with this or just running laps?

Me: Thanks for asking, Sonny. It seems even though I haven't declared who I am as a blogger, or proposed a purpose in my writing, I have filled a niche of sorts. Many of you from the beginning have encouraged me to keep blogging. And this week your words have been especially kind. Thankfully, those who don't care for my writing haven't told me to bug off. There's really no need for that in the blogosphere. If one finds Aleighopolis a bore, a snore, or a chore (like this week), they can simply split town and never return. And for those of you who do enjoy visiting...as always...we'll leave the light on for ya.


p.s. Father O' would be doubled over in pain that I used Wikipedia as a source for Pre-Cana rather than the Catechism of the Catholic Church. My quick 1am search for the Catechism online resulted in nada.

Blog, Interrupted

So, two months and 25 blogs later, I would say I have established myself as a consistent blogger. Fairly reliable. Showing up nearly every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (albeit loosey goosey with the hour of day). I may be voicing my opinion (on all things frivolous); issuing a challenge (yes, I WILL have "after" pictures for the Project 12-in-12 challenge on Friday's blog); or sharing a sappy, sentimental story (a study is currently being commissioned to see if said stories correspond with monthly female hormonal happenings). My personal favorites are usually the anecdotal accounts of my everyday life. Those are the ones people seem to relate to on a deeper level. And by deeper, I mean they feel my pain. Whether it's dog dying, hamster buying, or bats flying, we've all "been there, done that, bought the t-shirt."

On Monday, I returned after a week and a half hiatus with an excused absence slip. The slip said something like, "Big Daddy is home, and when Big Daddy is home Big Daddy demands my attention and Big Daddy deserves my attention." It could have also read, "Damn! After eleven baseball/lacrosse games, eight Zumba classes, three track meets, two girls' night's out, two parties to attend, one sacrament to celebrate and entertaining out-of-town guests (yes, all within ten days) - Mama is just too tired to type!




All of this is true, but there are a couple of other reasons why Aleighopolis was under quarantine...

First, I give you blogger's remorse. Why am I spending my days writing fluff for no apparent reason other than entertainment (most, of which, is mine)? I touched on this Monday, and many of you came to the defense of blogging, and eloquently commented on the needs of us to do so. Blog. And comment. We just do. Okay...good enough for me.

Secondly, truth be told, I became frozen stiff in cyberpeer pressure. Short story long, one of my blogging buddies is a real-life buddy who happened to have a real-life career as a writer in a real-life newspaper. Think Marley & Me with no dog. Well, actually, there IS a dog, but he wasn't the constant focus. I digress. She has been blogging for awhile, and has come into contact with many fellow writers. It's natural that writers would find a home in the blogging world. They trade insights and inspirations all of the time on their posts and comments. They use jargon like WIP's and queries. They hold contests for judging critiques and do guest-blogging at each other's sights and so on and so forth.

What the ?!?

How did little 'ole me with no focus or purpose get mixed up with this astute cluster of scribes?!? Don't get me wrong. These people are FABULOUS and I enjoy them immensely. I "follow" several of them who have caught my fancy. I am giddy with delight when one finds their way to Aleighopolis and takes the time to sign my guest book (leave a comment).

But there's this other thing that austere bloggers do. And here's where the pressure got to me.

They give out awards.

Lots of them.

For best doodle and sweetest remarks and prettiest handwriting and all kinds of things.

They give out awards, and if you receive one, you're expected to pass it along. Like a chain letter. It all seemed very sweet and encouraging in the beginning, but then it took a peculiar turn. It felt a bit gratuitous. And then a little incestuous.

YIKES! Now I've done it! I've offended the cool kids! They'll never let me sit at their lunch table again!!!!! What was I thinking?!?

Lucy, let me 'splain...I get that we're all just sharing the blogger love. Helping to promote each other's sites and their subsequent works in progress. Keeping things real, all the while rosy. Please.
I am a former cheerleader who's favorite tv show is Glee and all kidding aside, I truly love my life. Positivity is a daily goal of mine. A splash of sarcasm and a love of dirty dancing are the only things that keep my skin from glowing like a neon pink sign. Rose-colored glasses? I got your roses.

But the passing around of clip art awards was wearing me down, peeps (may I still call you peeps? do you hate me now? the cheerleader past was the nail in the coffin, am i right?). I am still trying to understand blog etiquette (is that a mushroom cloud above my head where a light bulb should be?) It was feeling like a "you scratch my blog and I'll scratch yours" kind of deal with the followers and following and contests and giveaways and awards and acceptance posts. I blame no one but myself for these overwhelming considerations. Again, it was just that kind of week. General chaos leading to....well...you know...blog, interrupted.

I needed to catch my breath.

I have.

I needed to remember why I bother doing this.

Actually, I still need to FIGURE OUT why I'm doing this.

I think I'm just having a conversation, one-sided as it may be.

I'm hanging with friends and family. And with you. If you're still there. Hello? Are you still there?

I wish I had a WIP.

My Mayonnaise Jar Runneth Over

Often times when people find out that I have a blog, they respond with one question:

Them: Who has time to blog?

Me: Uh.....

I'm sure they mean no offense, but truth be told, it feels like an insult rather than a question. It seems to imply that I have nothing better to do with my time. That I'm not as busy with life as them. Or that I choose to waste my time on meaningless rants and raves while they do much more worthwhile things - like watch reality television or shop. Not that those things aren't incredibly important.



I mean, God forbid we put Snooki and "The Situation," out of work due to poor ratings. And certainly we can all do our part to ignite this country's sagging economy by purchasing last year's Coach wristlet from the Poppy Collection at your nearest outlet store.

For most, discretionary time is a luxury. Those minutes come few and far between. And how one chooses to fill that time is their business - and they should own it. When people ask me why I blog, or what I blog about, I tell them it's a creative outlet for me. As my facebook page states:

"Apparently, couldn't get enough of myself on facebook, so I started a blog. How original."

I like to share. Sue me. Some people get a kick out of me. Sue them. Some people don't give a crap what I have to say. Screw them. I mean - c'est la vie (even though it doesn't rhyme).

My time to blog is usually late at night, after the kids are in bed, and often times when Big Daddy is out of town on business. In fact, that is EXACTLY why I have not been spending time in Aleighopolis, or on anyone else's blog site lately. Because Big Daddy has been home for two straight weeks. Not straight like, 24-hours a day; but fourteen straight days of no business travel. And no business trips again this week. I don't think he's spent three straight weeks in his office since we moved here over two years ago. I am enjoying turning the computer off by 10pm and spending some QT with Big Daddy. See how one must sometimes choose between leisure time activities (when in doubt, always choose your big daddy).

I have missed Aleighopolis. I have missed the other blogs that I visit often. I hope to get caught up this week, all the while remembering the story of The Mayonnaise Jar. Thanks to my friend, K, for sending this to me recently. Words to live by. (you know what other words you can live by? words like snooki and poppy. those are fun words. that's why i blog)



The Mayonnaise Jar

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle,
When 24 hours in a day is not enough;
remember the mayonnaise jar and 2 cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class
and had some items in front of him.

When the class began, wordlessly,
he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar
and start to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured
it into the jar. He shook the jar lightly.
The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls.
He then asked the students again
if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand
and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else
He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded
With an unanimous 'yes.'

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table
and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively
filling the empty space between the sand.
The students laughed.

'Now,' said the professor, as the laughter subsided,
'I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.

The golf balls are the important things - God, family,
children, health, friends, and favorite passions
Things that if everything else was lost
and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the things that matter like your job, house, and car.

The sand is everything else --
The small stuff..

'If you put the sand into the jar first,' he continued,
'there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.
The same goes for life.

If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff,
You will never have room for the things that are
important to you.

So...

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.
Play with your children.
Take time to get medical checkups.
Take your partner out to dinner.

There will always be time
to clean the house and fix the dripping tap.

'Take care of the golf balls first --
The things that really matter.
Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.'

One of the students raised her hand
and inquired what the coffee represented.

The professor smiled.

'I'm glad you asked'.

It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem,
there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend..'

Amen, Professor. Amen.

Color Me Coral

I have absolutely no time for anything today, other than teaching my three Zumba classes and preparing for my daughter's Confirmation on Friday night.

So, I shall blog about ZuZu's Confirmation! (don't tell Big Daddy I'm blogging today. he'll start his speech about time management again)

Family will be arriving from the midwest in approximately 27 hours to witness and celebrate my daughter's Confirmation, a sacrament in the Catholic Church. The introduction to the Rite of Confirmation states:

"by the sacrament of Confirmation, (the baptized) are more perfectly bound to the Church and are enriched with a special strength of the Holy Spirit. Hence they are, as true witnesses of Christ, more strictly obliged to spread and defend the faith by word and deed."

In other words....MY LITTLE GIRL IS ALL GROWN UP!

It seems like it was just yesterday that we were cutting lace and trim off of my wedding gown and detachable train to embellish her First Communion dress. It was four years ago, to the month. Time flies. And without getting too religious or spiritual or philosophical, I'm happy my baby will be aided by the Holy Spirit to get her through this world.

Speaking of dresses....that was our mission last night (yes, three days before said event). We had a backup dress, but it was black. We wanted something more springy and Holy Spiritish. The Holy Spirit would imply red. But CORAL seemed a little more the season.

Behold, the dress of ZuZu:





I know, right?!? So cute! And it pretty much lays on her exactly the way it does on this hanger...slim and straight.


.

And it's got this beautiful little detailing on the hip with this satin bow and rhinestone clasp doohickey. Which is why we MUST find a pair of sandals with rhinestone accents! Of course, a coral pedicure will then be in order. Lucky thing the dress was on sale!









As was the necklace. $2.40 at Boscov's, to be exact. Holla!




















Funny thing hit me as I was propping up the dress for the photo op....coral has been a go-to color for special nights for me and the ladies of my family. My mom found a beautiful coral suit with pearl and rhinestone buttons to wear on my wedding day. I was wearing a stellar coral dress and jacket on the night Big Daddy proposed to me. And now ZuZu will wear it as she professes her faith and experiences a rite of passage (yeah, it will be under a big white robe, but still).

Coral is the color of ocean reefs. Alive and vibrant. Bright and cheerful. Crisp and fresh. And apparently, nostalgic and sentimental.

So other than the whole cleaning the house and washing the linens and stocking the fridge and wrapping the gifts and finding the shoes and meditating on the signifigance of this special day for my daughter - I'm good to go!

Good thing I didn't waste time blogging about something meaningless today. Right, Big Daddy?!?

Home Alone (Wishful Thinking)

Many people abhor Mondays. People with jobs they hate. People who don't spend the entire weekend trying to catch their breath (and a sandwich) running from baseball fields, to lacrosse fields, to track & fields. People who are awakened before sunrise, and remain trapped in their own home with tiny minions that need constant diaper changing, feeding, and attention.

I am not one of those people.

Monday mornings, my house empties by 7:40am, and I am alone. At peace with my coffee, my computer, and my to-do list (insert "happy dance" here). It's my prerogative to either deal with the list, or not. I may find a good movie "on demand." I may camp out in front of my computer, bouncing from website to website. I may even get a phone call from a long-distance friend and spend an hour or more catching up. Don't judge me. I've paid my dues.

None of that is happening today. Today, I have a gentleman here to wallpaper my powder room. After two years of being "a work in progress," it's time. Summer is just around the corner (we refer to it as, "visitors' season"), and I'm thrilled to cross this project off the list. And since neither Big Daddy nor I have skills in this area (obviously....not even good at getting the stuff down, let alone, back up), we have hired out the job. The gentleman came highly recommended. He does great work, is quick, and is cheap. SOLD! However, he likes to strike up conversations with me as he works. UGH!!!

Don't look now, but he's about 12 feet behind me, preparing a strip of paper. I'm good for the 10 minutes he's in the powder room, but just as I'm about to get my mojo rolling, he comes back to cut another strip and the small talk begins. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, and I'm the Queen of Small Talk, but IT'S MY MONDAY! MY DAY! MY QUIET, PEACEFUL, DO WHATEVER I WANT DAY! And I don't want to explain what Zumba is or discuss how the neighbor with cancer is doing or hear about where his daughter goes to college.

Help.

So this is it, people. Here's my Monday blog. If I had a laptop, I would retreat to the deck (out of ear-shot where it's sunny and mid-60's) and be a little more creative, thought-provoking, or entertaining. But alas, I do not. So, instead, I will grab a book, my iPhone, and an iced coffee. I'll be close enough for emergencies....far enough for some privacy.

Monday sucks.