Here are a series of pics of me seemingly squishing other people's heads. I quite like them.
This weekend was nice. We had a few plans and then they changed...As plans sometimes do. I ended up taking The Guy out for Thai food on Friday night and then we went home and watched Fellini's La Strada. I hadn't seen it in 20 years, and I didn't remember it being quite so sad.
Even young children aren't safe...
On Saturday morning, we got a lot done around the house. I finally finished painting the trim in Coadster's old room and The Guy got almost everything out of his storage space. Sure, things are a bit crowded in our garage right now, but we'll get it all whittled down and put away or taken away. It's just nice to have it all at home for The Guy to easily work on now.
In the afternoon, our friend E. came over and The Guy took us out on a trail run. We went all through Hickory Hill Park and then out the other side and ran for however many more miles. We estimated that we ran around 8 miles altogether. Which is about half of what we're going to be racing in the middle of March, but it was nice that we knew we could at least do that.
In the evening we met back up with E and our friend Eggo and her husband at The Mill for pizza and beer. After running off about 900 calories, we figured we could load up a little. Around 8 we headed over to some other friends to play a game called Mad Gab. Of course, the kids who were there, were much better at it than any of the adults.
Oh, squishing heads can make some people so sad.
Sunday was another beautiful day. I wasn't feeling very well and was a bit migrainey, so I didn't get much done in the morning. I did run again, for about 4 miles in the afternoon. The Guy rode his bike for a couple of hours in there too.
In the evening, The Guy went to play pool with his friend Bry and I hung out at home and read my book. I'm currently reading The Marriage Plot, by Jeffrey Eugenides. Right now it takes place in 1982. It reminds me a lot of what I thought college would be like from reading too many writers' experiences in literature, but never was for me.