dianaschnuth

Garrett, a stranger whose blog I frequent, is giving away many coveted Gmail accounts. All you have to do is donate $5 or more to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, then forward your confirmation e-mail to Garrett, and you will be entered into a drawing for one of at least 36 (people keep donating more every day) Gmail accounts.

I don’t know that I want a Gmail account, but I donated ten bucks to the MS Society, anyway. I think you should, too.

Feeling kinda funky. I think I ate too much low-carb ice cream. I hope it goes away, though, because Aaron and I haven’t gotten it on in a while, and… ahem. TMI. Anyway…

Yesterday was my ten-year high school class reunion. It wasn’t too bad, all told—I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in years, mainly from choir and band. Matt was my main friend of the afternoon, although I tried really hard not to obviously follow him around like a puppy dog or anything. The only thing that was particularly disappointing was the fact that I still had a bit of a cold, and my hacking cough came back to haunt me multiple embarrassing times in the couple hours we were there. But, all in all, no one’s changed too much (physically, anyway); most people are married and most of the married (or divorced) ones have a kid or two or three; a few people do have jobs that one could consider… worth a college degree, I guess. Sonya’s a surgeon, Garrett’s a pilot, Theresa’s a operations manager for an advertising firm, Serafina’s a teacher. I didn’t catch what Jessica does, but Jim’s in the seminary, Matt works for his dad’s ATM business, and I work for a bank. But I’m happy, dammit. And that’s all that matters.

Oh, and I didn’t mention Atkins at all, because that would have required me to admit that I got really fat and sloppy over the past few years. I’d rather them all think I look almost the same as I did in high school, and leave it at that. 🙂

Today, Aaron and I hit the Crosby Festival at the Botanical Gardens. Lots of great artists, awesome photography, neat sculpture, and nifty “plant rooters” made out of blown glass and copper wire. I almost bought one, but figured the cat would destroy it wherever it lived. I also discovered the Photo Arts Club at the Botanical Gardens. I’m definitely planning to join up—their next meeting is in October, though. Sounds like the kind of thing I need: pros and amateurs participating in discussions, outings, and informal photo contests on a monthly basis. Hey, Erk, you with me on this one? I could sure use a photo buddy…

Well, in preparation for tomorrow’s Buckeye High School Class Reunion in beautiful Medina, Ohio, I felt the need to run some errands this evening. First, put a few bucks’ worth of gas in the Contour (aka the running-errands-while-the-spouse-is-at-work car). Second, get money out of my checking account (preferably at a Sky ATM). Third, purchase some stuff from Meijer, including:

+ Jones soda (picnic is BYOB)
+ thermometer (one of those things you don’t think of until you’re sick)
+ more Meijer Non-Drowsy Severe Cold (you only get, like, two days’ worth of meds!)
+ AA batteries (for the digital camera, noich)

This mission I accomplished with the navigational assistance of my husband, who told me before he left for work where I would need to turn to get where I needed to be. So, for the benefit of the Toledo-savvy (Sheryl and Aaron), I successfully went:

+ up South to Byrne to the Citgo on Byrne and Airport
+ up Byrne some more to Glendale, right turn, to the Sky Bank at Glendale and Cass
+ up Glendale some more, knowing Reynolds was up there somewhere, left turn toward Meijer
+ up Holland accidentally instead of Reynolds to get home, but it’s just as well, since that’s how I go home from work anyway, and I avoided the weird construction.

Amazing how simple things like navigating your relatively new hometown can bolster your self-esteem.

Yeesh. I really need to do something about that self-esteem, then.

There comes a point, when admiring one’s friends and their happiness and well-being, that one ceases to be happy for one’s friends and begins to be unhappy for oneself.

Or, to put it in the vernacular: Damn, I’m jealous.

That is all.