High heels.
Srsly, a woman of my age should be able to successfully wear high-heeled shoes all day without falling. Or having sore leg muscles the next day.
Shaving.
This is something I have been doing on a (semi) regular basis for MANY years. And yet, somehow, still I manage to miss a spot every single time I shave my legs. Now, you may be thinking, "missing a spot? meh....that's no big deal....missing a spot is a little thing that happens to everyone." If we were talking about an actual spot, you would be right. The problem comes in when I (somehow) miss the EXACT SAME spot every time. Ok, spots. Plural. As in the back of my left knee, the outside of my right calf, the inside of my left calf....you get the picture. The result of this is I now sometimes sit at work feeling really good about the spring weather and wearing a skirt without tights and while on a conference call I happen to look down at my legs and see a cluster of 3/4-inch long hairs waving back at me from my left leg. I gasp in horror, take a moment to gratefully realize my phone is on mute, then proceed to ask myself how the HECK that happened. Things to note: the above scenario has happened more than once. I have identified the problematic spot, yet seem to have done nothing about it. Is it the lighting in my bathroom shower? Is it an inefficient razor? I mean, come on!
Sleeping.
I'm REAL good at sleeping on my couch...with the tv and all the lights on. Just not so much at sleeping in my bed.
Showing posts with label couch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label couch. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
RILLA #6
Reasons I Love Living Alone: #6
I wear a retainer every night when I go to sleep. Sometimes I wear it when I take a nap.
Sometimes I like to come home from work and lie on the couch and wear my soft clothes and my retainer and watch bad tv until I fall asleep. On the couch. With the lights and tv on. And my retainer in my mouth.
You know...occasionally...sometimes...not that often....
I wear a retainer every night when I go to sleep. Sometimes I wear it when I take a nap.
Sometimes I like to come home from work and lie on the couch and wear my soft clothes and my retainer and watch bad tv until I fall asleep. On the couch. With the lights and tv on. And my retainer in my mouth.
You know...occasionally...sometimes...not that often....
Monday, March 30, 2009
What's the best way to move a couch into a new apt?
Apparently, over the railing, down to the ground, then down the street.
Fritha was moving into a new apartment that is exactly 1.75 blocks from her old apartment. She did most of the moving in a couple of trips in her car and Conan's car, over the course of a couple of days.
The largest, most awkward item that needed to be moved was her couch and it required a little more effort than the other items. When the couch first arrived at Fritha's home, it took 6 adults a few hours to get it into the apartment. Doors were taken off their hinges, light fixtures were removed, there was much screaming and crying and drinking. Ok, maybe there wasnt crying.
To get the couch (Craigslist find, sub-$100) out of the apartment, a repeat of this procedure would NOT be happening. Which left "off the balcony" as the best alternative for getting the couch out of the 2nd floor apartment.
The date was set, the accomplices were invited and the plan was formed. Fritha and Conan bought rope and Simpson and the Vegases and I formed a plan. Debating the merits of end-over-end or "seated position drop" we picked a direction, moved the couch onto the balcony and tied the ropes (one around each end to hold weight, one around the middle for steering). Division of labor: Simpson, Conan and the Vegases slowly lowering the couch, me on the ground steering and taking pictures. Once the couch was lowered, we picked it up and carried it across, the street, one block on the sidewalk, cut through the 7-11 parking lot and into Fritha's new building. We wrestled the couch up the three flights of stairs and into its new home, which is lovely.
It's in a new apartment, but I have no doubt that it will serve as a comfortable resting spot for many people in months to come. People like out of town friends, visiting family members and various others who just like to sleep there for fun (ahem...Pickle and me).
Fritha was moving into a new apartment that is exactly 1.75 blocks from her old apartment. She did most of the moving in a couple of trips in her car and Conan's car, over the course of a couple of days.
The largest, most awkward item that needed to be moved was her couch and it required a little more effort than the other items. When the couch first arrived at Fritha's home, it took 6 adults a few hours to get it into the apartment. Doors were taken off their hinges, light fixtures were removed, there was much screaming and crying and drinking. Ok, maybe there wasnt crying.
To get the couch (Craigslist find, sub-$100) out of the apartment, a repeat of this procedure would NOT be happening. Which left "off the balcony" as the best alternative for getting the couch out of the 2nd floor apartment.
The date was set, the accomplices were invited and the plan was formed. Fritha and Conan bought rope and Simpson and the Vegases and I formed a plan. Debating the merits of end-over-end or "seated position drop" we picked a direction, moved the couch onto the balcony and tied the ropes (one around each end to hold weight, one around the middle for steering). Division of labor: Simpson, Conan and the Vegases slowly lowering the couch, me on the ground steering and taking pictures. Once the couch was lowered, we picked it up and carried it across, the street, one block on the sidewalk, cut through the 7-11 parking lot and into Fritha's new building. We wrestled the couch up the three flights of stairs and into its new home, which is lovely.
It's in a new apartment, but I have no doubt that it will serve as a comfortable resting spot for many people in months to come. People like out of town friends, visiting family members and various others who just like to sleep there for fun (ahem...Pickle and me).
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
If I wore a mitt, would I be better at catching Zs?
I have this amazing couch. I bought it on Craigs List when I moved to my current apartment and I love it. It's long enough for me to stretch out, firm and springy cushions, soft fabric...just awesome. Sometimes at night, I like to lie on my couch wearing house socks and my fluffy Gamecock blanket and watch tv and play on the computer. I might even be doing that right now.
Sometimes I mix it up and do similarly on the loveseat (also purchased when I moved to current apt, good cushions, fabulous blue, not long enough to stretch out, but still great). Last night I was doing something like that (sans furry garnet blanket) when I fell asleep.
Have you ever fallen asleep on the couch and wake up in the middle of the night disoriented? Yeah, well, happened to me. Woke up a little cold and cranky and decided that rather than a) getting up and getting into my bed or b) getting a blanket from the blanket basket 6 feet away, I opted for the following: I grabbed the jacket that I had left draped on the arm of the loveseat and returned to the curled up position I had adopted on the loveseat. Swap "loveseat" for "park bench" and I'm a homeless cliche or blatantly ignoring the directive of 60s song lyrics.
And my back is sore.
I gotta work on that.
Sometimes I mix it up and do similarly on the loveseat (also purchased when I moved to current apt, good cushions, fabulous blue, not long enough to stretch out, but still great). Last night I was doing something like that (sans furry garnet blanket) when I fell asleep.
Have you ever fallen asleep on the couch and wake up in the middle of the night disoriented? Yeah, well, happened to me. Woke up a little cold and cranky and decided that rather than a) getting up and getting into my bed or b) getting a blanket from the blanket basket 6 feet away, I opted for the following: I grabbed the jacket that I had left draped on the arm of the loveseat and returned to the curled up position I had adopted on the loveseat. Swap "loveseat" for "park bench" and I'm a homeless cliche or blatantly ignoring the directive of 60s song lyrics.
And my back is sore.
I gotta work on that.
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