New Year's Resolutions 2014

In keeping with tradition, here are my resolutions for the coming year:

1. Dress with more style
2. Keep house better (such as by cleaning)
3. Pray the Rosary . . . more
4. Go on one retreat
5. Become a better dancer

I should probably go back and see how I did on my resolutions for 2013 as well, but I'm sure it was fine.  :)

Here is a post

Here is a post about a Saturday night, spent at home with my roommie, hanging out watching tv, crocheting, listening to her play the saxophone, random friends coming over, now they are gone to get pizza and a hard drive full of movies . . . and supposedly doing homework?  :)

Getting Told by a Four-Year-Old

We were at the pool and I was French braiding my hair when I noticed McKenzie looking intently at my armpits.  Finally she asked, "What are those things?"  Correctly divining that she meant the 2 mm stubble that I had been too lazy to shave, I replied, "What, you mean hairs?  Those are hairs." "Why?"  "Well, because I didn't shave them."  "Why?"  "Um, because . . . I just didn't get to it today."  Silence.  Then, "Can you put your arms down? I don't like to see those . . . hairs."

Group Email Hilarity

I am planning a trip out to some mountains to do 14ers this weekend.  Naturally, I start up a big group email about the subject--and it gets crazy.  WHY does it get crazy?  Is it me?  I am reminded of other group email threads I have started that have quickly gotten out of hand; maybe it's my fault somehow.  I still find it amusing, though.  One person just replied with a preference to hike something other than a 14er on Saturday!  Um . . . :)  Yesterday someone else replied wanting to go to a beer festival at Keystone--I am all for beer, but really.  People.  Let's just bag some peaks.

Vain Post about Sun Exposure

I wish I could just tan my legs ONLY...my arms are already pretty brown, but my legs pale in comparison.  Literally!

Dancing

Let me tell you about dancing.  Some people think dancing is a socially intimidating activity, something arduous, the result of lots of hard work, and even then something for only now and then.  For weddings.  Or flash mobs.  But here's what dancing really is: it is a drug, and the more you dance, the more you want to dance . . . more.  You've got those happy feet.  The head teacher in the classroom I'm an assistant in said in her end-of-year note to me that I brightened everyone's days with my jigs on the playground--yes, it got to that level!  It intermittantly stays there, the more I dance, like sugar, or coffee, but sooooo much better.  So right now, I want to dance.  Yeah.

Go Figure

So the woman I'm going to babysit for over the summer has everything I want: a labrador retriever, an adorable 4-year-old, an attractive husband, a place in Denver . . . and yet, oddly, she wants to pursue a career, complete an advanced degree, and leave her kid with someone else as many hours as possible!  Weird but true.