This is NOT, for the record, how I feel about going out in the snow today

We are REALLY TIRED of the Disney parks’ jazz-hands-oppressive anti-choreography-on-the-rides policies so we left the parks and came back to our room to chill

Also because I need to conserve my 50-year-old resources and turn in early so I can win the half marathon before the sun comes up tomorrow. But still.

Make like a tree

While I will always hate fall—because it signals the death of summer and portends the hellscape of winter plus it somehow compels everyone to talk about pumpkin spice, which is neither delicious in anything nor funny in jokes—this tree is kinda pretty. Plus the weather was kinda perfect for a run just now. Plus I ran three miles at an 11:19 pace, which is faster than I’d mentally budgeted for.

Now I’m off to shower and work up a sweat anew at Elf dance rehearsal. Which also—but in a charming, jazz-handsy way—portends the hellscape of winter. But I choose not to think about that.

Oh, I am TOTALLY an Arthur

(Plus I totally made this meme. Send it forth into the world if you wish.)

This is me in ten years

This was hidden away among three generations of surprises in my grandmother's attic when we emptied the house -- which was built by my great-grandfather -- after her death in 1984. We have no idea who these people are, but we assume they're ancestors so I hung this picture on the wall of my first house for seven years because NORWEGIAN GUILT. I have to say, I clearly get my smoldering handsomeness from the woman in the picture because aside from her dated middle part, the resemblance -- not to mention the eternally sunny disposition -- is uncanny. Assuming that even is a woman. And it goes without saying that I get my boxy, poorly drawn hands from the man.

A needle in the haygurl

I am fully aware that the "people you may know" Facebook feature is not a poor man's Match.com. Nevertheless, I persist at treating it as such and I greedily swipe through it every time it appears on my feed in the hopes of finding the one local age-appropriate reasonably athletic show-tune loving human non-sequitur needle in the cliché-loathing haygurl who I know Facebook will deliver to my screen if I look just THIS ONE LAST TIME.

But Facebook keeps showing me in random order the same people I clearly after all this time STILL DON'T KNOW: local women, long-bearded undergrads who live 45 miles away, guys in Venezuela I share one friend with, and people who use Nell Carter for their profile photos. Plus my psychiatrist from Chicago who I had to leave for a different psychiatrist because not only was she mortally opposed to the very existence of Diet Coke but she didn't inform me of this fact -- and, granted, she didn't yet have a reason to -- until I brought a large McDonald's Diet Coke to her office and after I learned she really didn't want me even having it in her office I reached over to pick it up so I could pour it in her little office sink but instead I bumped it and spilled it all over her couch, throw pillows, artfully draped pashmina and carpet and neither of us had any way to clean it up except for the box of Kleenex on her table and the sweaty gym clothes in my bag and I was dying by fiery degrees inside as I simultaneously struggled to clean it up, apologized profusely, and marveled at the sheer liquid volume of seepy, drippy horror that a larger-than-I-thought container of delicious carbonated chemicals could inflict in mere seconds across the entirety of this poor woman's office furniture, décor and feng shui. Needless to say, I could never face her again and I began the hunt for a new in-network, geographically desirable psychiatrist almost as soon as I got in her elevator. So yes, Facebook, she technically IS a person I know. Score one for you! But under the circumstances, she is currently a poor dating choice for you to repeatedly offer me in the poor-man's Match.com you so misleadingly call "people you may know."

Oh -- and aside from any oblique references to show tunes or spilled liquids, the attached picture has almost no relevance to this post. I just thought it was funny. And you should find me a boyfriend.