Over doing it

First foccacia
Originally uploaded by riblet.

Tonight we have a potluck to attend at Ira's school. I decided to cook up my go-to potluck dish, which is a mediterranean-style quinoa salad (thanks to HH for the awesome, vegan recipe). So I made that up last night and this morning, I'm thinking, kalamata olives, scallions, garlic...kids are going to scream in terror when they see this, but the parents will love it. So in an effort to please the children (come on, you know how cruel they can be), I tried to bake the fastest loaf of foccacia that any one has ever tried to make at 6:00 a.m. Sadly, it did not work out for me. While I was able to get a great initial rise, I forgot that this recipe requires a second rise and a 30 minute bake. There was no way I was going to get out the door by 7:30. Instead of collapsing into a heap of tears (which is what I really wanted to do), I tossed the dough in the fridge and hope to come back to it later. So the children will hate me, but I'm going to have delicious bread later. Neener-neener.

P.S. Guess what I'm wearing today? LEGGINGS.

Me and you

Me and you
Originally uploaded by riblet.

Leon on leggings:
"Just to let you know, those are not pants."

Well, someone had to tell me before I got out of control. I admit to coming to the leggings party quite late. I'm not much of a trendsetter, in case you didn't notice. However, I'm making up for lost time. It's time to work out, where are my leggings? My legs are too pasty for this skirt/dress, where are my leggings? I'm home from work and can't wait to get out of this "state worker outfit," where are my leggings? It's time for bed, where are my leggings? You get the picture.

Love to Leon, the unlikely but much appreciated hero in my fashion rut.

Who are you calling a cat?

Cousin Roxy
Originally uploaded by riblet.

Eventhough it happened a couple of weeks ago, I'm still cracking up about this cat-caller I had: a guy in a motorized wheelchair, carrying a chihuahua in his fanny pack. Maybe the catcall came from the chihuahua? I couldn't really be sure. Woo-woo! Maybe it wasn't intended for me anyway. And while I won't say this is typical of the attention I get from guys on the street (remember the dudes who told me to get a smaller purse?), it's just as boring. Leon was the coolest guy to tell me I was pretty so I married him.

Futher, is this a trend with the dog as the motorized wheelchair accessory? Because I've been seeing it a lot.

Cry like a baby

Neon family portraits 2009
Originally uploaded by riblet.

Sometimes riding the lightrail is the physical equvalent to a random Internet comment thread. People can be combative, rude, pushy or just plain troll-like.

The worst was the other day, when I boarded the train. I spotted an empty seat, but some dude had his foot propped up on it while he was speaking loudly on his cell phone. He made no attempt to move it until I asked if I could please sit there. He moved his foot and i sat. He finished his conversation and then proclaimed sarcastically, "I just love being crammed like sardines in a metal can." Oh, dear. Then don't ride the lightrail at rush hour! You wont be crammed anywhere and you can put your feet wherever you want.

So when someone actually stood up to give an old man a seat the other day and then they both carried on one of those civil, almost jovial, "life is not so bad" conversations people do to grease the social wheels, it totally brought me to tears. Right there on the train! Prepared mother that I am, I pulled a Kleenex from my bra and dabbed at my eyes.