Most of the weather during the visit was chilly and/or rainy (chilly meaning in the high 60's, to put it in perspective). However, we had one absolutely beautiful day we chose to spend at the beach. It was gorgeous. And fun.
My dad, stepmom and brother (the oft-mentioned Matt) came to visit us for a week. Stellan wasted no time putting them to "work" on their first night. Here is a video that you shouldn't feel obligated to watch all the way through, but you will enjoy if you're the doting grandparent/adoring Stellan fan type.
As you may know, dear readers, Kevin is wrapping up his thesis (OK, he's pretty much done, but FAU is dragging its behemoth leaden feet) and job hunting. If you weren't already sending positive energy out into the universe, praying, offering sacrifices to the employment gods or some sort of combination of those, please start. Because Kevin said that if he has a job offer before the show leaves town on March 21st, he will buy us tickets (and not the cheap seats) to Wicked. Which we have never seen, in case you're the fanatic type and you wish to decry us (and I know some of you Wicked fanatic types read this blog!).
So in the name of Broadway in Miami Beach, hope Kevin gets an awesome job offer. Oh, also so we can get that washing machine and dryer I keep dreaming of.
I know what you're thinking. Shoes. Whoopee. You may recognize that these are, in fact, new shoes. But what you may not know is that this is the first pair of new tennis shoes I have purchased for myself since high school. We won't say how long it's been, since I already gave you a clue to my ancient heritage in my last post.
So, yeah, I bought new shoes! This is a big deal for me. A really big deal. I've been very satisfied with my sisters' hand-me-downs for all these years, but now I'm far away from my sisters. And all my other shoes have begun to show signs of not just wear, but of extreme distress. For example, there was the day the soles of both shoes of a pair completely separated from the upper section of the shoe, leaving my feet to flap around like talking Muppet shoes. Or the pair in which the tread was so far gone that I slipped three times in one day on the tile floor in our house. (Which is quite a feat, considering how dirty/sticky/scuzzy most parts of our tile floor can generally be found.) Or the shoe that tore itself in half one day as I tightened the laces.
The worst part is that I still wore each of those pairs of shoes a few times even after the said calamities occurred.
Kevin used to mock me for having so many pairs of tennis shoes. But since the obliteration of my healthy stock of shoes, he felt so bad that he got me a gift card for Christmas to buy shoes. New shoes. For myself. (I am famous for being very willing to buy nice things for others but extremely cheap and unwilling to buy stuff for me.) Which I did with great jubilation. Any bets on how long I can keep them looking new?