Could this be more boring? This is literally what I ate for breakfast.

I sometimes take pictures of things I eat.  And post them on the internet.  I don’t know why we do that.  It’s kind of boring for everyone else.

I do know that this pan of brussels sprouts and bell peppers was so pretty I was compelled to take a picture.

Chopped up veggies are so pretty.  These joined forces with pasta to become this week’s breakfast.  (Breakfast is a time, not a food.) 

A tale of five first generation iPhones and the girl who loved them

  1. I bought on craigslist about two and a half years ago. A year later, I was at the Apple store with my MacBook and its busted harddrive. Since I was there, I mentioned that my phone’s volume buttons had just stopped working. Like, just then, in the car on the way over. I knew it was out of warranty and it wasn’t a big deal, but I figured I’d ask if he had any tips for me. His tip was…he replaced it for free! Thanks, Apple store guy!
  2. I accidentally left iPhone #2 in an airport bathroom in Birmingham, Alabama. I realized maybe two minutes later, but it was long gone. Happy Thanksgiving, lucky airport stranger! Manfriend got an upgrade and I got his old one.
  3. I left a cup of coke in the cupholder in my car for too long. I tossed the cup but didn’t realize it had leaked and left a pool of coke. I threw iPhone #3 into the cupholder while I was driving and didn’t realized until I pulled it out twenty minutes later, dripping wet, that it had just taken a coke bath. Back to the Apple store for a $199 out of warranty replacement, but the cash register system went down. Another free phone for Mel!
  4. Maybe 30 days or so later, I was taking a bubble bath and iPhone #4 decided to join me. Another computer error at the Apple store. The computer spit out an invoice saying I owed zero dollars instead of the $199 I should have paid for my replacement.
  5. Happy hour. After surviving at least dozens of falls, iPhone #5 slipped off my lap and hit the floor just so.

So I finally upgraded! Joined the 20th century and now have a fancy 3GS instead of a model that came out in 2007. It has a compass.

Tumbling off the wagon

Last week, I went to Seattle for a wedding planning weekend with my engaged sister and my mom.  The good news is, we found the dress!  But while I had every intention of avoiding cheese at the get go, I did not stick the the plan at all this weekend, for two reasons:

1. My sister purposefully had stocked her kitchen with food for her finnicky, vegetarian sibling, but these were things like goat cheese, granola bars with chocolate, hard boiled eggs, etc.  I felt bad that she’d gone to the trouble.

2. Restaurants are hard.

2. I was on vacation and didn’t feel like making the effort. 

I definitely could have ordered my salad without cheese at dinner last night, but I was already giving up my weekend to sleep in my nephew’s Sponge Bob twin bed and wander around Michael’s comparing this ugly white frilly guest book to that ugly frilly white guest book.  Didn’t I deserve a little saturated fat in my life?

I’m probably not supposed to post a picture of the dress she picked, because you have to come to the wedding to see that! But I liked this one. Because it had a moustache!

Yada, yada, yada

My day ended yesterday with going for a run!  I didn’t think that would happen after the way it started:

  • Up at 4 am to go to the airport.
  • A three hour flight home from Seattle that included as many drinks as hours. 
  • A mimosa and bloody mary brunch.
  • Shower and a nap.  I resist naps because they normally make me groggy.

But I rallied!  I woke up from my nap and felt awesome so I took Harper on a run through the park. He’s a smart dog.  He now gets as excited when I strap on the Garmin as when I grab his leash.

I saw a peloton of maybe 15-20 cyclists.  After I got home, we couldn’t decide if it was BikeDenver or the Denver Cruisers.  Either way, the weather is awesome and it’s nice to see so many out enjoying it.

Triathlon in 33 days!

Nobody cares about your airport stories. I promise. We all tell them anyways.

I felt inexplicably anxious about my flight today, but what could be luckier than flying with O’Malley the Mallard on St. Patrick’s Day? 

Since I’d already punched my card for my one non-vegan thing per day (an egg and cheese breakfast biscuit as a treat since I had to get up at dark thirty this morning) I scoped out the vegan options at Denver’s airport:

Almond butter on Ezekiel bread in a baggie.

I was afraid the almond butter on my sandwich would count as a “liquid or gel” but had no hassle.  I did get my picture taken with the x-ray photo thing people used to be all in arms about.  I smiled for the camera, then felt silly, then changed my mind and felt awesome instead.  Then I ate a sandwich and felt smug about not breaking my pledge and not spending $9 on a bad vegetarian airport sandwich.

I know the airport is essentially a bus station with slightly better security (and bars!) but this seemed a bit much.  Getting on the floor is one thing.  Laying down is one thing.  Sprawling in front of where people walk up to the counter or the gate seems like more of a cry for attention than a quest for comfort.  And I suppose it worked since I snapped a photo and blogged about it.