the ocean

So I was going through my Amazon order history just now trying to remember what brand of fly trap I had purchased (not Venus, which seems like a missed opportunity) when it occurred to me that Amazon order histories in isolation are kind of random and hilarious. Or maybe it's just me. But I had honestly forgotten some of these buys and they brought back a lot of (mixed) memories:

We've been living in a construction zone for the past few weeks, since we are having my home office built out to fulfill my childhood dream of having a library like the one from Beauty & the Beast. (Seriously, I'm even getting a wholly unnecessary ladder on the bookshelves.) It has been a lot. I swear they led us to believe it was only going to take a few days to install, since they actually built all of the cabinetry offsite over the last couple of months. But no, it's still going on. Friday was kind of a low point when the painters showed up at 8 in the morning just to tell us they were working on a different job that day instead of ours and wanted to take all of their equipment. Also, the wallpaper guy is apparently very much in demand? I mean, he's no Pedro Pascal, but still.

Ian has been handling all communication with the crew, which is good, since I am somewhat scared of craftsmen. By and large this has gone well. There was an incident where they asked to use the microwave and Dolly flew into a rage at this gross indignity, but she was clearly just itching to bark about something. Ian also sent a rather sassy email to the project manager at one point in which he used the phrase "I am trying to manage a household," as though someone was trying to commandeer Tara to use as a field headquarters, but surprisingly that just resulted in them sending him flowers. Always pays to channel your inner Karen, assuming you are white and middle class.

Allegedly everything will be wrapped by the end of this week. We'll see. I do tire of working at the kitchen table, but on the other hand the proximity to Chex Mix is appreciated. 

So the last leg of the bachelor party last weekend was a trip to the Weird Al concert at Ravinia. Like many of us, my friend who is getting married grew up with Weird Al's musical output and even performed it for a talent show, which the other kids were absolutely wrong for not realizing was very cool. So he had a yen to experience "Eat It" and "Amish Paradise" live and in person, which I was absolutely not going to prevent. Mother nature, that bitch, had other ideas, though.

You see, there was essentially a hurricane in Highland Park last Sunday night, even though Ian gleefully reported to me from Chicago that there was not so much as a cloud in the sky. It was so intense that even though we were sitting in the pavilion, it felt like it was raining in there because the wind blew it in at essentially a 90 degree angle. Not that I am complaining, given that the people on the lawn and all of their many and varied belongings got completely drenched. And, of course, no rain had been in the forecast, so most of the crowd showed up with candles, card games, snack tables, and arrays of cheeses but no umbrellas or ponchos. My mom, my sister, and my nephew were among the unfortunate lawngoers who had to make a mad dash for the parking lot through six inches of accumulated rain. And that was my nephew's first concert; I'll wait until he's older to tell him just to lie and tell people it was Sabrina Carpenter or something.

The show itself was pretty solid. He did all the hits, as well as the themesongs he wrote for not one but two animated shows I did not know existed. There were costumes galore, including Star Wars outfits for "Yoda" and the fat suit for "Fat," which does in fact hit different now. And although I can't claim to be an expert, I thought the accordion playing was pretty strong. More than worth the hypothermia.