Sorry (you’re welcome) for the absence. I can’t seem to be consistent with this weblog. Story of my life.

But it’s Wednesday: my recent life (somewhat) in pictures.

***

I had the opportunity to realize a dream last week.

Can you see?

Here’s another view, closer.

If you still don’t recognize this, you are pretty much dead to me. Pretty much.

I read Stride Toward Freedom in my first year of college, and it changed my life.

The Lorraine Motel is now the site of the National Civil Rights Museum. Highly recommended if you’re ever in Memphis.

Across the street, the window is still open.

I did as directed and did not take photos inside the museum. It was extraordinarily difficult for me to refrain from photographing the balcony spot at the point in the museum where I was about two feet away, on the inside of the window. Closer than in this famous photograph.

***

In other news, I sent the GMBOA off to Ailene.

Anneke helped decorate.

Kieran’s about to get braces. Well, really, a spacer for now, on the way to braces. I can’t imagine why.

And finally, the three glasses-wearers in my family took really creepy photos so we could try on virtual glasses.

Goodbye.

Yesterday’s comment winner (drrrumrolllll)…

Rainyday!

***

Let me tell you a little story.

I am in Bowling Green, Kentucky. This is the sixth time I have been here for work. Because I am very smart, I chose to go with the method of weather prediction called “Bowling Green is usually 20ish degrees F cooler than Austin” when selecting my wardrobe.

I brought two pairs of pants, bulky sweaters, and undershirts (including one turtleneck). I felt very smart because this meant I did not have to pack a coat. I don’t really wear dresses, but I threw in a dress and jacket because I needed three days’ worth of clothes, and I only OWN two pairs of work pants right now. (I just ordered some items from the Interwebs, but they did not arrive until the evening after I left.)

As you can imagine, Bowling Green currently is experiencing highs in the high-80s.

Lest I combust (not to mention look like a complete and total fool), I decided pretty quickly that I not only would have to wear The Dress, but wear The Dress TWICE (I’m visiting two separate groups of people, so I can do this without looking like a complete and total and DIRTY fool, which would be an accurate descriptor).

This morning, I pulled The Dress and jacket out of my suitcase and IRONED them. I don’t know if you all are familiar with the appliance of which I am speaking; I have very little experience myself. I felt it was important to present myself as tidily as possible, though, given that I was going to be wearing these clothes two days out of three.

And… I burnt my boob, people. I whacked my naked boob with the corner of a hot iron.

I wish I were kidding.

But wait. There’s more.

After the boobscortch incident, I got into the shower to shave my legs. I should also point out that I don’t really do this either. That is to say, I DO NOT SHAVE MY LEGS. At any given time, I probably have anywhere from four to six months of hair on my legs. I shave them when I have to (e.g., to don a dress in a professional situation), and that’s about it. I don’t have a real feminist disdain for doing it (although, yes, of course, I see no point); I just do not want to spend any more of my limited lifetime engaged in this activity than I have to.

I got about halfway through my right leg when I felt my razor (a Mach III, not some crappy pink generic) start to… bounce. I’d pull, and it’d bounce on my leg, kinda like it was spring-loaded. With Mach razors, the cartridges attach to the handle, so I assumed the cartridge had come detached somehow. I pushed it into the wall to reattach it, and the right side connector snapped. The cartridge’s right side hung down from the handle; there was no way to fix it.

There also was no way I could NOT shave my legs at this point. I mean, I had to wear The Dress (and I’d already ironed it, plus my boob). I could have gone hairy (but I wouldn’t have), but I definitely could NOT go MOSTLY hairy minus one half of one leg.

I dragged the broken razor against my leg two or three times, before the other side snapped.

I ended up shaving my legs holding the cartridge between my (slippery, soapy) fingers. Kinda like a straight razor, but without any semblance of a handle. My legs don’t look great, but I didn’t sever any major blood sources OR slice any fingertips.

I call it a WIN!

Please tell me you can top this.

What is your clumsiest, most pathetic story?

***

This post is part of my giveaway of Whimsy’s Golden Minion Box of Awesomeness, or GMBOA.

Each day this week, I’m asking some sort of question. You can respond with as many comments as you like. I’ll announce my favorite response (and possibly a runner up, depending on my MOOD) the next day. Then, Monday or Tuesday, October 18th or 19th, I’ll randomly select a winner for the GMBOA from my favorites this week.

Remember: Per GMBOA guidelines, this contest is open only to Minions of The Creamery. For instructions on becoming a Minion, check this.

(For more information on the GMBOA itself, you might start here or here.)

I’ve been trying to post GMBOA Day 4 since last night, and it’s not working. I’m in a hotel with wifi that keeps going out, so it’s taking me forever to respond to yesterday’s comments (and then re-respond because it loses my responses). I want to respond to comments before I announce yesterday’s winner and post a new question, so here’s what I’m going to do.

I’ll post Day 4 this evening and leave it up through Friday. I’ll post the last day, Day 5, this weekend and leave it up at least through the weekend, maybe through Monday, depending on the comments it gets. The GMBOA winner will be announced Monday or Tuesday, October 18th or 19th (again, depending on the comments that come in this weekend).

For your patience, anyone who leaves a comment today telling me about their most frustrating hotel or technology experience will earn one free entry! Woot!

I finally uploaded the pictures that had been accumulating on my phone to flickr. Every time I do that, I remember all these ideas I had for blog posts along the way, posts that never happened because I never uploaded the photos I wanted to use.

Today, in no discernible order, I give you a quick taste of things I’d planned on doing better if I’d done them when I’d planned.

And TOMORROW, I will give you a contest update. (TLDR: Contest coming next week.)

1. School started for UT Austin. I hate it when school starts because it means 50,000 people (predominantly rash, immature, shortsighted, 18- to 22-year-old people) invade the city. They clog the streets, create parking space competitions, talk on their phones, tan their bodies, and just generally annoy me. This video was taken on the first day of classes (notice the Tower bells playing “Let it Snow”). I was walking to get lunch at the Union, and was just generally horrified at the number of humans I had to wade through. (Note to self: Leave for lunch 15 to 30 minutes early the first week or two of the semester, before all the kids have stopped attending classes. The normal five-minute salad line takes 35, and you’re forced to listen to conversations that make you want to barf.)

2. I want to have friends like this.

3. As a result of a complete last-minute fluke, I drove with a friend to Dallas for the first show of the Guided by Voices reunion tour. They’ve always kinda annoyed me, but it was pretty damn awesome anyway.

4. This guy walks. It is a tiny bit cute. Just slightly.

5. School skating event… Look at the awesome PVC contraptions they have for novices these days!

6. Archer was sick. This is what he did all day when I stayed home with him.

7. Kieran has been obsessed for years with learning the dances on the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory DVD. He’s finally passing on the love.

End of post = end of days

Wait! Are you sure you don’t need any spicy hot chubbies with that?

I am playing Three Truths and One Lie with Whimsy and minions this week.

We are now at the point where I tell you the stories behind each of the truths/lie from Tuesday’s post. Numero Tres:

“The first time I crossed the border into another country, I got picked on by Canadian border guards who refused to believe someone from Texas didn’t carry a gun.”

So, this is the lie. But it’s kind of a weak little fake lie because it’s only the first part of the sentence that makes it untrue. It’s true that the first (only) time I drove into Canada, I got harrassed because of my Texas license plate, but that wasn’t the first time I’d been out of the country or through a border crossing.

I’ve been out of the country three times. When I was 17, I went to Russia and the Baltic republics with People to People.

When I was 21 (literally, my birthday was on this trip), Brad flew up to New York to drive with me from college back to Dallas for the summer. We took a detour to Niagara Falls and then drove through Canada for a few hours. I got harrassed at the border and asked multiple times if I had guns. And then I had to surrender my mace for IMMEDIATE DESTRUCTION. And they laughed. Stupid Texans.

Then, 12 years ago TODAY (as I’m writing this, August 10th), Brad and I left for our honeymoon: 10 days in Paris, Munich, and Venice. (I hate sharing this because I feel like it makes us sound like pretentious assholes, but REALLY, it was just because we were young and dumb and thought we could move to a new city without jobs because we were so smart and, you know, college graduates and all, and before THAT, we could take a trip to Europe. Because yeah. Really smart.)

And yes, I live less than four hours from the Mexican border, but I’ve never been to Mexico. Not sure how I’ve managed that one, but it’ll be rectified at some point.

So that leaves Number Four:

“I used to fake my piano practice logs every week and then win the trophy for practicing the most every year.”

Yeppers. True.

I hated pretty much every minute of the eight years or so I took piano. My teacher required us to log our practice minutes every day, which meant that, every week, on the drive to piano practice, I’d be recording my fake minutes. I practiced at least 20 fake minutes six days a week (260+ hours) every year. And every year, at our annual awards ceremony, I’d get the tallest trophy. I never MEANT to benefit from my lies lies lies. I just wanted to not get the wrath of the piano teacher (who I’m sure knew I was a total liar). But instead, I got big trophies. Awesome.

And that concludes our game for the week. I hope you have enjoyed. :)

I am playing Three Truths and One Lie with Whimsy and minions this week.

Of these four things, tell me which one you think is the lie.

(And someone please play because it will be very sad – but also funny, so maybe you shouldn’t – if I am talking to myself.)

Okay.

1. I cook meals for Brad and the kids about once a year.
2. I can pop my back and pelvis by squeezing my butt muscles.
3. The first time I crossed the border into another country, I got picked on by Canadian border guards who refused to believe someone from Texas didn’t carry a gun.
4. I used to fake my piano practice logs every week and then win the trophy for practicing the most every year.

Anneke, ‘Cation 2010

Joy today brought to you by Fossil Rim.

Ostrich

Kieran thought you could buy them for the amounts listed on their tags.

Narcissistic blogger discovering a great self-portrait angle.

Hello.

Beautiful.

Rectangular pupiled weirdos.

So, in general, I decided this weekend that I’m no longer any good at photography. But I really love this one.

I’m at a conference in Denver. I had dinner, alone (liberation!), at an okay Thai place. Two-for-one drinks, but the food was just meh.

I’ve had a headache since I got here, possibly from the altitude, possibly from anxiety, possibly from the cab driver who not only charged me fare for three passengers (long story… $122.40), but also dropped me off at the WRONG HOTEL.

I remember now that I hate conferences. I remember now that I can’t stand people who think they’re very important. I remember now that there are A LOT of very self-important people at conferences.

The whole idea is stupid. I mean, 10 years ago, when I went to these conferences as a graduate student, people collected papers. You’d go listen to a paper presentation, and then you’d go pick up the paper that went with it. It was almost a game, like collecting baseball cards. But now… who wants a freaking stack of papers?! Email it to me, please, and I *might* read it. It’s just arcane. And at a conference that focuses in part on new technologies…

That said, there are some REALLY smart people here. I live and work with some really smart people, but I don’t ever really engage with them in the way that one does at a conference like this. It’s nice. It makes me want to be better.

I don’t feel like I’ve ever really done anything well or deeply. I have such broad interests – I realize when I come to a conference like this – that I don’t ever become expert at anything. It’s taken me a long time to be okay with that. I’m almost 34 years old, and I’m finally okay with myself.

I know this is scattered… I had two beers, people. What do you want from me?

(I really wanted to put that “kidding” disclaimer in the text of my post, but then I thought of all the horror and heart attacks I might cause.)

We traveled to my aunt’s house about three hours away for Easter this weekend. Today, for your edification, I have chosen to answer a formspring question that became even easier to answer after our travels.

Are you going to have more kids? – submitted via formspring

No.