A picture of the new living room

Today, I vacuumed it for the first time.

I used the brand new Pet Hair Eraser vacuum we bought in light of the new carpet.

And the vacuum broke!

After I was done vacuuming but still.

So Dane took it back.

Anyway, I meant to post a picture with the new carpet post but never did. So here you go.

A nothing-to-do Saturday

After a long week of sickness, slogging through work and overall just fighting through it all, today is extra nice.

It's a Saturday with nothing to do.

Sure, we need to go to the store. We're out of things like half and half, contact solution and wet cat food. But none of that is particularly urgent.

My voice is still shaky, though maybe a bit louder than yesterday. And I think Dane isn't feeling the best, though he is still asleep.

The sun is out, though, and I have hope that it won't be so bitterly cold today. I may even try to run outside.

I'd like to read my book, too. Maybe today will be one of those days where we make time for ourselves.

Right now, Rye is happily playing with the toy castle he got for Christmas. He has just locked the king up inside.

I love watching him play on his own. "He can hold a sword," he just said, as he pushed a plastic sword into a soldier's hand. And joy just now as he found the king's coat, which had been disastrously lost for about two minutes.

We've eaten breakfast and now we're just here.

The coffee tastes a little better this morning.

Retraction

To everybody I e-mailed earlier today saying I was feeling better after violent stomach flu/food poisoning the last few days, scratch that.

I now have a fever, chills that turn into feeling way overheated that turns back into chills, muscle aches, a head ache and the beginnings of a sore throat.

It gets better.

Today, Dane discovered that our washer has been leaking water all over the floor underneath it for months. We've got a nice little colony of mold, too! He learned all of this 20 minutes before he had to go to work ON A SUNDAY.

So now, only days after basking in our new carpet/couch glory, we have to crawl on top of the washer and dryer, which are pulled out into the hallway, to simply get to our bedroom. There are wet clothes and blankets draped randomly around the house. This takes all the fun out of the new stuff. Not to mention, we're sort of running out of money.

One more thing that's pretty much the icing on the cake: Rye has a very pink, watery, green-and-yellow-matted eye!! That means we can't go to daycare tomorrow, and I already missed work Friday while puking. Not to mention, he's nobly telling me it doesn't hurt, but it looks so sore and itchy, it obviously does.

When it rains it pours, it never ends, and all those other little sayings we use to muddle through are appropriate here.

This, too, shall pass. I know. (There's my bit of optimism).

Still. Come on, already.

new carpet

It's amazing what new carpet does to a house.

Maybe it's just that seeing what's underneath carpet when you rip out the old is so disgusting and awful that anything put in on top of it would be better.

But I think more so it's that the new carpet is really nice.

And it's in our house.

I sort of can't believe it.

My stepdad said over the weekend that it was like we were getting a new house.

Not really, I thought.

And it's still obviously not a new house.

But when the basement is done being refinished (not soon enough) I think it sort of will. More so than not anyway.

We still have much of our furniture crowded into our kitchen and dining room. Right now, I am sitting on the love seat staring happily out onto a sea of beige in our "new" living room.

I'm liking it.

I'm guessing it will be even better when I actually feel like I can walk on it without damaging it.

Apparently, Rye refused to walk on it at first. And as far as I know only one of our four cats has yet to set a paw on it either.

I guess it's just that new.

Maybe one day we'll even put furniture on it.

Could it be?

Perhaps Donnie Wahlberg wasn't lying after all.

It seems that the unthinkable may be happening.

New Kids on the Block might just be getting back together.

The ledes on the news stories I've seen have all been sort of lame. Things like: "They won't be new and they're certainly not kids anymore ... (ha, ha, ha), but New Kids on the Block might just be getting back on the block."

Oh. My. God.

At first, I thought it was a terrible idea.

But then I went here.

And now I'm completely sold.

Bring them back.

Bring them back now.

Small world

About six or seven months ago, a new baby started at Rye's daycare.

She is known in our household as Baby Leona.

The other day Rye told me how Baby Leona had pooped out of her diaper and onto the carpet. He thought that was funny.

I had never met Baby Leona or her mom because Baby Leona gets dropped off nearly two hours before Rye does and she gets picked up almost two hours earlier, too. Her mom, I was told, is a teacher.

So tonight I was early picking Rye up and Baby Leona's mom was late.

I was happy I would finally get to say hello and at least have a face for every fellow daycare parent.

I walked in, said hi and wiped my shoes on the mat. Then I looked up, walked a few feet to where they were to get Rye and stuck out my hand to Baby Leona's mom.

"Hi, I'm Veronica," I said.

"I know," she said. "We went to high school together."

I stared hard at this woman.

Yes, we did go to high school together. And jr. high. We were in many honors classes together. She dated my friend for a while. I had even thought of this girl a few weeks ago when someone else I knew had an emergency appendectomy. She is the only other person I can remember knowing who had to have an emergency appendectomy.

We weren't close friends, but it was still nice to see a face from the past, especially one that recognized me right away.

To make this whole daycare "family" thing a bit stranger, another one of my high school friends uses our provider's sister for her daycare.

Since we can't really go back to Grand Junction, and Omaha so often feels so big, I'm happy to have moments like this, in an otherwise anonymous place.

The letter might go something like this

Dear fellow graduates of the class of 1998,

In the 10 years since we've graduated high school, I've really thought of you very little.

With a few exceptions, of course.

Still, for some reason, I really want there to be a 10-year reunion. It should be this spring.

Last week, I thought about it and decided I wasn't sure if I would go.

This week, one of you sent me a MySpace message asking if I'd heard anything about it.

I hadn't. So I called a woman involved with the Fremont High Alumni Association to find out who was planning it and when it would be.

She said she had no contact for the class of 1998.

That means none of you have stepped forward yet to plan it.

I'm not surprised.

And none of you would be surprised to hear that I felt compelled to think about organizing it. I guess I still can't help it.

I asked more questions: Was she sure nobody was planning it? Is it possible for someone to be planning it without notifying the alumni association? How do you go about getting a list of addresses?

I contemplated getting the list (it costs $20 and would not have married last names or current addresses). But then I thought why exactly I would do such a thing.

I haven't thought about many of you since high school. I certainly haven't thought about many of you since my last summer at Ronin Pool when I got married and moved away.

I've got an awesome family now, a good job. I run races now and sometimes do well. I'm much more confident now. I care not nearly as much what you former popular people think.

I wish there was a way to get just the people I am curious about together. Can't we have a cross country reunion? A track team reunion? A journalism staff get-together? A student government or drama or German club reunion? A you-were-once-my-friends-and-I-miss-you reunion? That would be nice.

Well, in the end, I decided not to spend my time tracking down lost addresses and lost people, despite my curiosity as to how some of you turned out.

I do hope everyone's doing well.

And maybe there's still a chance someone else will pull something together.

And maybe I will go.