So as we’re sitting there in our booth talking, this dude with long blond hair and I’m-high-on-something eyes comes up to the table to announce that it’s his birthday. We congratulate him and tell him happy birthday, and then he turns to Ian and asks if I’m with him. Ian says yes, that I’m his wife, and then the dude says something about how beautiful I am. (Ian agreed with him, smartly.)

I am writing this down here because despite the fact that the guy was obviously high as shit, I’m not the kind of girl that gets called beautiful often. Shit, hardly ever. So despite his questionable mental state, I’m taking that compliment and filing it away here for the next time I’m feeling fat or particularly fuggles.

So thanks, high dude whose name I don’t remember. Hope your birthday was great.

This morning at work we spotted (from our 7th floor windows) the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile was in the Dairy Queen parking lot across from our office building, so naturally six of us took off after it. Unfortunately by the time we got all the way downstairs and across the street it had departed and was turning onto 440 East.

But it wasn’t all bad—the sighting inspired the group to head to Hot Diggity Dog, a hotdog place in Nashville that most of us had never been to before. I was especially happy because they offered not only a veggie burger but a veggie dog—something I’d never seen on a menu before. I tried it and I wouldn’t say it was the best fake meat I’ve had (Morningstar Farms chik’n nuggets are my favorite so far), but with the toppings (relish, mustard and celery salt) it was good enough.

This is going to be an awesome day. I can feel it.

While I was checking my Twitter stream this morning, I noticed a tweet from The Green Wagon saying that they had a baby goat, named Bette, hanging out with them in the shop today. Taking into account the cuteness of baby goats plus the fact that I didn’t bring anything with me for lunch today and The Local Taco is right next door to The Green Wagon, a plan was born and Jamie, Ben and I headed out for lunch and goat-visiting.

Turns out the The Green Wagon peeps have (raise?) goats, and the mother of this little gal had triplets for the first time. For whatever reason, she didn’t clean off little Bette and rejected her. But these kind people took Bette’s well-being into their own hands and have been bottle-feeding her and making sure she’s getting plenty of love and affection. That sweater she’s wearing? IT’S A WOOL SOCK. That’s how tiny she is. Like a kitten. With hooves. Who didn’t seem to mind being held, and actually nuzzled my neck a bit.

I’m sure The Green Wagon folk thought we were a little weird, three strangers piling into their shop to play with a four-day-old goat, but we couldn’t resist. Oh—Bette had just learned to jump, and was happy to show off her new skills. She also made cute little cooing sounds at one of the shop owners as she hopped around after her.

But let me tell you: When we left that shop, the gray sky, the bone-chilling wind, the crabby mood, the stressful day—it was all gone.

That cute little goat made my day.

(See all the pictures from our visit with Bette)

I thought I had uploaded this back on the 12th, but apparently not.

These are the paths created by my mouse as I worked throughout the day. The larger, darker spots are where my mouse rested. I was doing some coding that day, and when I work in TextMate I have its window on the right side of my screen, which would explain why the mouse was resting often near the left/center of the screen.

Also, that big blob toward the left apparently means I ate lunch that day. For once.

I don’t know if you guys understand the depths of my obsession with Malbecs. I cannot enter a liquor store and see a Malbec that I haven’t tried yet and not buy it. This is getting to be a problem because I frequent a couple of liquor stores on a regular basis, and pretty soon the only Malbecs I haven’t tried yet are going to be the really expensive ones.

The interstate was a mess going home from work on Friday night, so Ian and I stopped off at J. Barleycorn’s, a huge liquor store on one side and a beer store on the other. They had a great wine selection, including about six Malbecs I hadn’t seen before. I bought three, plus one pinot noir.

Ian got a couple of high-gravity beers, and then we went next door and bought more beer.

It was a mighty fine Friday night.

Sometimes you just gotta have lunch with friends at The Local Taco. And sit on the patio even though it’s cold as bajesus (hence the puffy coat). And go along with the idea that tortillas aren’t bread.

(We had water, I swear.)

On the way back from picking up my CSA shipment today I stopped at The Produce Place, a great local grocery store that carries lots of organic items and loose nuts and seeds.

I have seen this sticker on the stop sign before, but today it seemed especially appropriate. Yesterday afternoon I started to get really bad, stabbing pains in my stomach, and when I got home they only got worse. It was like someone was taking the top part of my stomach and squeezing it as hard as they could and would not let go.

This morning the pain was a bit better, but I called my doctor to explain what was going on and request a refill on a medication that I have taken before: a muscle relaxer that happens to work for both bladder spasms (I used to get a lot of bladder infections) and stomach muscle spasms. Luckily they didn’t require me to come in, and called in a refill to the Walgreens by my office.

I took one of the pills a little while ago and can already feel my stomach muscles relaxing a bit. I don’t know what the hell I ate or what I did to make them freak out so bad in the first place, but I do NOT want that to happen again.

So anyway, this sign is for my stomach: STOP FREAKING OUT!

My co-workers have become well-aware of what an Apple nerd I am, and today Bill brought me this pen that he got back in the 1980s when he first started working with Rex (my boss).

I love the colors and the font of the old logo–oh! And on the back of the pen it says “Germany,” so there must have been a time when not everything was made in China. Who knew!

I’ve been working on a project at work that required some advanced math abilities the other day, and luckily I just happen to be married to a statistician and all-around smartypants. In honor of Ian’s help on the project, today I drank out of this coffee cup that I bogarted from him back when he was in school. (His master’s is in biostatistics.)