Sandwich heaven

There's a street corner near my office where you can see 3 sub shops within a block of each other--Subway, Quiznos and Jimmy Johns. Somebody needs to call Blimpie and tell them they missed the party.

My Last Birthday

It just hit me that I'm turning 29 this weekend, and this is my last year as a twentysomething, so I have decided that I am not going to have any more birthdays after that. I'm just going to stay 29 until further notice. The only other "age milestone" left is retirement age, 65, but what are the odds that Social Security is going to exist then to pay out for me, anyway?

On second thought, I do enjoy birthday gifts. Hmm....maybe I could just celebrate my birthday every year, but keep telling people that I'm 29. What should I do?

It's official...I have to check my luggage

This is going to make me sound like a nut, but last night I weighed a bunch of stuff on a digital postage scale to see if it's even possible to go to Europe with just one bag. I got to the 13-pound limit pretty easily, without any clothing (thanks in large part to my camera). So, guess I'll have to check something. Oh, well. (And no, mom, I'm not going to wear all of my clothes at once on the plane. Thanks for the suggestion, though.)

At least if they lose my bag, I get to go on a shopping spree in London. Granted, a self-funded one. :)

Defective String Cheese

As I thought of what I was going to write, it occurred to me that my daily life is boring. Really boring. (I have one brother living in Alaska and one in Spain...infinitely more interesting than my long days of staring at a computer screen.) But here goes, anyway.

The string cheese I brought with me for lunch today is defective. It's not stringy. It's crumbly. Still tastes fine (not exactly gourmet, but just fine for string cheese), but there's something so satisfying about peeling apart the layers of cheese before eating them. All of my attempts with this batch of cheese, though, have failed, and I end up with just a torn off chunk. Oh, the tragedy. How ever will I be able to move on?

Carryon Luggage

I was optimistic when I found out that there's a carryon weight limit on Virgin Atlantic for my flight to Europe of thirteen pounds. Yes, only 13 pounds. But I had really wanted to fly without checking any bags. I do it all the time for business travel, and I can easily pack for a week in the smallest rolling carryon size. But my hopes were dashed today when I used the postal scale at my office to weigh my purse and found out it's 5 pounds. Unless I plan on only taking 1 change of clothes, I guess I'll have to check a bag. Oh, well.

I love ebay

I love buying (and selling) things on ebay, and occasionally I find a description that's really amusing. Like this title, for instance, that came up when I searched for a rolling backpack:

Black Rolling Wheel Backpack Hiking Duffle Luggage Bag

At least they're thorough.

new red shoes

At the risk of sounding too girly, I love the fact that I'm wearing cute shoes today. I think a cute shoe day is on par with a good hair day.

Design Craziness

I'm a proponent of good design--in whatever form it may take. But I ran across something a bit ridiculous today: a plastic (and, admittedly, cool-looking) clothes hanger that costs $35 for a set of two. Two! I understand that people will pay a lot for cool home furnishings, sculpture, etc. But a hanger? Do people display these? Doesn't the good design get covered up by clothing? I'd have to permanently leave one hanging on the back of the bathroom door for all guests to see to justify the price. Here it is...

Invisible

It's only 9:30 in the morning and already I've had several incidents that make me wonder if I'm invisible to others today. Someone jumped in front of me and grabbed the seat I was about to take on the train, several people have allowed doors to slam on me, and a couple of people have cut in front of me in line (to go down the stairs, get breakfast at the deli, etc.). It's too bad that people can't see me today, too--I'm having such a good hair day. :-)

"Chi-Town?"

I read an interesting discussion on a Tribune columnist's blog today...the fact that no one who actually lives in Chicago calls the city "Chi-town." I know a lot of people who say that, but none of them live here. I'm apparently not the only one who's made that observation before.

The original article that started the whole discussion was about a guy who ended up with a tattoo that said "CHI-TONW"--a misspelling of an already dumb idea for a tattoo.