I’m big and getting bigger. I’ve just stopped running. No hopes of running in my life right now. Yeah, yeah, I know you awesome active people looking at me with no sympathy. I KNOW. Just do it Anne, just just… Blagh. I’m too bummed and my tummy is getting bigger and so I just keep drinking more Dr. Pepper and feel happy for a second.
Okay, I’ve never been a soda addict until the last year. I mean, yeah, when we go out I’d get a drink, but never would I buy soda for the house or stop by 7/11 in between grocery days. But people, I’m a Dr. Pepper addict with the occasional Mexican Coke.
Have I already complained about Fringe to you? Fringe is not on Netflix anymore. I’ve watched all of Friends, Stranger Things, Sherlock a million times, but I just want my Fringe. I want my Olivia Dunham and Walter Bishop and sexual attraction and sci-fi. No, I don’t want some crap Gilmore Girls.
Tonight we drove around Salt Lake City. It was blue in the sky and yellow on the ground. The leaves in front of our home have turned gold. It’s the first fall in years that I’ve noticed stink bugs flying around. We spent the day driving down the street to the small toy store and grabbing hot chocolate and a caramel apple spice steamer at Starbucks.
Now about our home. We have been lucky enough to not have ant infestations or serious mold problems. Yes, we’ve heard the occasional loud sex or bi-monthly neighbor scream-outs, but overall it’s been a peaceful and (relatively) comfortable place to live for the past four years.
But the last six months has been dreadful. We have neighbors who really like hookah. For a day, it was kind of nice. It’s sweet-ish. But there’s no circulation in our buildings. And it’s taken over our house. It. Will. Not. Go. Away. I opened my drawers to get out my winter clothes and HOLY MOTHER OF HOOKAH it smelled.
I hate hookah. I hate it. I know it’s the dumbest thing to hate, but I hate it. It reminds me of the time I almost got raped. Not that it was the hookah that I blame the whole thing on, but it’s all those dumb pipes and smoke that I remember.
The best thing about living here is this bunny. He showed up when we started thinking about getting a rabbit. This bunny lives down the hill by our parking lot. He’s always chewing on something in the grass when we walk down to our cars in the morning. When he sees us, he hops off to the bushes nearby. I haven’t seen him for a week, though, but Spencer saw him yesterday. He is grey-brown with a perfect cotton ball tail.
I decided to blog today because we were at Barnes and Noble and I was reading the first two pages of a new book by Maria Semple and Regina Spektor was playing and for just a second, I felt completely me. I won’t try to explain it further. But I felt me, and I really loved me.