I don't mind the rat race but I could do with a little more cheese.

Not much in the way of bikeyness this coming weekend, I'm afraid. Tomorrow, I have to be in Spotsylvania at 8:30am for an SCA event. I'm sure it'll be a fun time once I get there, but dressing-up-in-funny-clothes-and-spending-the-day-on-two-wheels has replaced dressing-up-in-funny-clothes-and-spending-the-day-in-a-field-or-fellowship-hall-with-my-friends as my hobby of choice.

On Sunday, I hope to go out with a girlfriend or two to see "The Woman in Black". I'm sure there will be shopping and sushi and decadent desserts at Amphora Diner afterwards.

There has been a bit of bikeyness this past week. Scott still hasn't ridden to work yet, but he's getting closer. He'd ordered a new handlebar which was supposed to accommodate a bar-end mirror. The new bar arrived this week and no dice. It was the same inner diameter as the handlebar he already had. SpokesPerson Adam proceeded to widen the inner diameter of Scott's handlebar and was able to attach the mirror. Hooray! Now I don't have to worry about my nearly-deaf honey bunches of oats being run down from behind. Well, I can still worry, but at least he'll see it coming and it won't be a total surprise to him.

As we waited for the widening and attachment (is it just me or does that sound kind of... rude?), Scott took a TriCross Sport Disc out for a spin.


Specialized TriCross Sport Disc a.k.a. buttah (but in a manly way)
He was just as smitten over this bike as I am about the Dolce. Unlike me, though, he has to weigh new bike versus new hearing aids. Insurance won't cover the hearing aids; maybe he should see if they'll cover the bike as "preventative care"...

Dude. We mid-Atlantic dwellers are going to pay so much for this mild winter. We're either going to get slammed in a couple of weeks or the bugs next summer will be horrific. Either way, I'm going to take advantage of getting in as many bike rides as possible (and enjoy the lack of stink bugs invading my home to escape winter's chill).

Scott and I still need to work out a mutually agreeable definition of a "short" ride. We rode around Sterling doing Saturday morning errands such as fetching prescriptions, mailing packages, dropping off recyclables, and grocery shopping. After a quick lunch, I talked him into accompanying me on a ride to Herndon. The W&OD was full of bikers, joggers, and families. We made it up to Elden Street where I asked if he wanted to ride around Herndon or continue up the trail. He voted to continue on the trail. I then had an idea and suggested we take the Fairfax County Parkway trail up to Route 7 and ride through Sterling to home. He was game and we sped up and down the hills (max downhill speed 30.6 mph!). The ride home was mostly uneventful but the steep, steep uphills were rough.

On one of our rest breaks -- I'm getting over a cold and am not pushing myself as hard as I could -- Scott mentioned that he was getting annoyed with slipping off his pedals and wants a spiky pair like mine. I asked if he wanted to ride to the Ashburn Spokes, Etc. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind and nixed the idea.

Scott threw his chain (first time!) midway up a hill and I was grateful for the imposed break. He was kind of grateful, too. Heh. At that point, I told him I no longer wanted to ride to Spokes. His response was a gaspy, "Good."

We got back home and Scott draped himself on the floor while I bounced around, jazzed from all the fresh air and exercise but also hungry. I called the local Chinese place and ordered for pickup rather than my standard delivery. Again Scott looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Pshaw. The place is only a two mile round trip and just off the trail! He suggested a bike intervention. I laughed as I rode off into the sunset. Okay, perpendicular to the sunset.

I enjoy my Highlander but the exterior color hasn't pleased me from day one. I miss having a red vehicle but the pamphlet the dealership gave me showed that Highlanders came in silver, white, grey, black, gold (*retch*), mossy green, and a silvery blue. No red, alas and alack.

HOWEVER, on the ride home from Memphis, we were passed by a red Highlander on I-81. RED! Much to Hubbyfink's chagrin, I started hollering, "RED! THEY MAKE RED HIGHLANDERS!!" There were some curse words thrown in for effect as well. I then tried mollifying myself with some sour grapes along the lines of "Well, maybe that's a 2009 color... It wasn't in the pamphlet."

Well, I finally checked the Toyota website this afternoon and there it is: SALSA RED.

Hubbyfink won't trade in his Prius so that I can have a red Highlander.

We're down to our last kitchen trash bag! I told Hubbyfink he would have to brave the damp streets and raving crowds at CVS to get more bags.

'Fink: We have super duper industrial bags in the basement.
Me: They're black and will clash with the kitchen decor. Plus, they're too big to fit in the trash can.
'Fink: Why do we have to put the bag in the trash can?
I point at Margie, who is transfixed at the storm door watching the snow fall.
'Fink: I'll duct tape her paws together and prop her in a corner somewhere.

In other news, strawberry daiquiri goodness is chilling in the freezer. =)

The last day of the semester is this coming Saturday and it can't come soon enough. I'm so thankful that I cut back my hours and am taking only two classes a semester; I'm sure I would've had more breakdowns by now. Hubbyfink's probably thankful too, even if he doesn't know it.

During the winter break, I'm going to tackle any and all outstanding Virginia exchequer issues and make sure that my ducks are in a row before the fourth quarter/year-end reporting panic starts in January. I'm also going to work up a class for Atlantia's February University (I'll have an email to you by the end of the week, pinkleader). And I'm going to get into the hard-core research for my new C15 Venetian ensemble.

Or maybe I'll just kick back with "Arkham Asylum", "Bioshock", and/or "Dead Space" and rot my brain with video games.

Work is being especially hellacious this week and it's only Monday. Bossman is taking the brunt of the ugliness, bless him. On the other paw, we're going to meet the 18 December deadline for getting orders in to a vendor and that's a tick mark in the positive column. One day at a time.

Hubbyfink and I are putting a plan into place so that we can spend our seventh anniversary (May 1, 2011) in Venice. I wanted so desperately to go to Venice this coming April and attend the Renaissance Society of America's yearly meeting but we simply can't swing the cost. With a year to prepare and save, though, we'll be able to do Venezia in style.

Aside from last week's unfortunate episode after filing a nail too thin, I haven't bitten my nails since November 13. I haven't had nails since senior prom (which I then bit off when I broke up with my boyfriend). I love my nails. Basilmonster LOVES my nails and constantly wants scritches. Alright, I've kicked the nail-biting habit. Now to get my weight under control, huh.

I frightened Hubbyfink with all sorts of wild ideas about home improvements yesterday. There were quick calls and voicemails throughout the day consisting of "Oh! We could do this!" and "Ooh. We need to check this first, though." His coworkers concluded that I must be very bored at work. Not really; I'm simply putting off the work I don't want to do.

I decided that I would pull the carpet off the stairs this weekend and install new treads. Hubbyfink was less than thrilled with this idea and suggested we paint the bedroom instead. I accepted his counter-offer but maintained that I still wanted to see what was under the carpet so I know what we'll be working with. I was hoping for hardwood, but suspected it would be plywood and subfloors. When Hubbyfink grudgingly pulled the carpet back on the top step, we were unsuprised to find plywood. Ah well. He's terrified that I'm going to rip up the carpet while he's at WAMW next week and has begged me to leave that project for another day when he's home. Fine.

Oh! I can paint and make some cosmetic changes to our bathroom while he's gone. That should insert a tiny icepick of fear in his heart.

I nixed painting the top of the pavilion valance this morning because I haven't decided what exactly I want to do with that space. I finished the top seam and called the tent done. Hubbyfink really likes the way the stripes on the ends of the roof look; I agree that it creates a neat, sort of sunburst pattern. Anyway, that project is done. Whoo hoo!

Eyelets on the yellow gamurra are done. I'll finish the hem during "True Blood". Whoo hoo!

Whipped up a gold-n-black giornea which fulfills Her Excellency azpapillion's request that everyone have a garment in Baronial colors for Pennsic. The outside is a strange and loose weave of black and yellow wool which I had for a few years. Thankfully, I had just enough black linen to line the giornea. One more garment on the completed list. Whoo hoo!

I feel slightly rejuvenated by having hibernated this weekend and not spoken with anyone except Hubbyfink. The poor dear hasn't had an easy time of it dealing with me lately. He never knows if he's going to encounter Jekyll or Hyde when our paths cross. I am very grateful for his support and unconditional love. I'm also thankful that he's finished repainting my trunk and will reattach the hardware this week. He made the mistake yesterday of saying that he wished I had more projects for him to work on. After giving him a wide smile and gleaming eyes -- which made him panic a bit -- I told him that I didn't have any other project for him. He looked a little relieved.

It's t-minus 20 days until I'm camping (okay, technically, I'll be camping on Land Grab Saturday, but then I come back home for a day or two) and I've decided that I need even more clothes! The proverbial bee got into my bonnet last night and I yanked out the cocoa brown and hot pink wool gabardines which have been "ripening" nicely since last September. (You did know that you have to let fabric rest a bit after it's been shipped, didn't you?)

Anyway, those gabs are destined for a hot bath this evening so they can both become cioppa, a type of Italian overdress. I think my yellow linen will also get a hot bath so it can replace the pink gamurra. There's nothing wrong with the pink dress -- it's a perfectly acceptable soft baby pink -- but my stomach does lazy flip flops when I look at it. Weird. Ooh. I could totally dye it.

After Pennsic.

Of course, I still need want need to do all the handwork on the blue and green gamurre as well as hem all my underbritches and make cushion covers and finish painting stripes on the tent (wall #2 this Saturday and roof the following weekend). Oh! And make some cuffia (Italian coifs). And work with my false hair braids for fake hair taping (I played with that a bit last night when I couldn't sleep and it actually looked pretty good).

Thank goodness Hubbyfink has agreed to take on clothes rack and repainting my trunk duties. He's a good egg.

Watching "TrueBlood" and then knocking oneself out with a shot of Nyquil.

My allergies went haywire this weekend and I felt awful yesterday. So awful that I came home early despite being in charge. (I still feel pretty bad today, but I can feel the allergy meds starting to kick in.) During one of my lucid points last night, Hubbyfink and I watched this week's "TrueBlood". It was awesome. It was then time to hit the sack with a pre-emptive strike of the afore-mentioned Nyquil.

Only rarely do I get trippy Nyquil-induced dreams. Last night was definitely the exception. I dreamed seasons three through five of "TrueBlood" plus a prequel to "Dark City" (or maybe it was "City of Lost Children"...) and... something else which has now drifted away from my memory. Of course, I couldn't remember any of the details of the cool stuff I dreamed so I can't send Alan Ball the next three seasons of his show. Ratfarts.

It's been a rough week in MelanieSuzanneville. Spent much of Sunday and Monday on the verge of tears and spent much of Tuesday trying to be in a really foul mood. Coming home to a King Cake and sharing it with friends after Alle Psallite practice really improved my mood.

Hubbyfink, of course, has been an absolute saint. I apologized last night for being so flighty and inconstant. He said it was okay; after six years of togetherness he's just about gotten used to it. While he was technically correct, that wasn't the right answer. But I let him live.

Today I'm feeling fairly fierce in my black pleather (ahem) jacket, new fitted jeans, and faux-Victorian ankle boots. Fierce. The jeans actually make my tush look good. Hee!