On Sunshine, and Cardboard Desks

Yesterday was one of those perfect spring afternoons in Portland. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and every bar and restaurant was overflowing onto the sidewalks with beautiful hipsters. It was one of those days where, when your cousin texts and asks if you want to go out for drinks, dinner turns into hastily made mac and cheese, which you wolf down before walking to the nearest bar, where you enjoy mason jars filled with the some of the most delicious mixed drinks in Portland (I’m talking about Swift Lounge, Portlanders, and you’re missing out if you haven’t been).

So, definitely not an evening for Gwyneth-inspired dishes. I am, however, researching butchers and fishmongers, to try to figure out where I can get the best possible deals and products. I’m warily eying a couple of the more frightening recipes, as I feel I should try to tackle one of them soon, to give myself some confidence. Not sure if I’m ready to stab a lobster in the face yet, though. Or shell out $100 for one home-cooked meal. Ugh.

In other news, I have, with the aid of a few cardboard boxes, transformed my office desk into a standing desk. Because what’s the point of eating healthily and exercising all the time if you’re going to spend 8 hours a day with your big ass held up by a chair? The cardboard boxes and lack of a chair may make me look like a homeless lunatic (or possibly an eccentric genius? Let’s go with that one), but standing all day makes me feel less like a worthless office slob and more like an accomplished hero. I’m standing on my feet all day! Just like nurses, or firefighters! Plus, it lets me walk around the office like an entitled jerk, which is what I always dreamed I’d grow up to become. I can’t say one way or another if this trend of being as healthy as possible (please ignore what I said earlier about the mac and cheese and mason jars full of alcohol) can be entirely attributed to Gwyneth’s influence, but I’d like to think she’s partly responsible.

Is this post coming across as smug and self-absorbed as I suspect it is? It feels like I just wrote an issue of GOOP. Maybe I should start publishing DOOP.

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7 Comments

Filed under Non-Gwyneth

7 responses to “On Sunshine, and Cardboard Desks

  1. Clair

    When I went from a walking-around job to a desk job, I also raised everything up so I could stand and work. I got lots of odd looks and a few quips (I was likened to Laurie Partridge playing the keyboard) but it saved my sore ass (which is still small) (so there).

  2. Winona

    I’m still not convinced that lobster is more delicious than crab, but perhaps that is Pacific Northwest snobbery. Looking forward to your lobster showdown šŸ™‚

  3. Crabmommy

    Danny,
    Good for you. I love me a good GOOP-Off. I no longer maintain this, but for several years I was a professional mom-blogger–well, my blog was mostly a ripoff of mommyness– and Gwynnie-pops featured prominently in my GOOP Off! series. Check it if you feel like it.
    http://crabmommy.blogspot.com/2008/11/goop-off.html

    Best of luck. This is clever-clever. Cleverer than even clever ripoffs of GOOP. Danny & Gwynny is a movie waiting to happen. If only that self-important twit had the humor to take it on…but she won’t because she duzzint–not when it comes to investigating the inner aspect of her own smuggy self.
    (I started Gooping off here, on the now-defunct Cookie magazine, in case you are interested….)
    http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/parenting/crabmommy-gwynnies-got-goop-308251)

    Best,
    Crabmommy

  4. Crabmommy

    p.s call your blog The Danny/Gwynny Project. From one writer to another, it has a better ring to it.

  5. reading this makes me miss my blogging days (it still exists, but so do my infant & my toddler) and I’m looking forward to mode tales of improvisation (toilet paper) and triumph (chili looked great but cilantro is evil).

  6. (*more tales, not mode. my manhands don’t fare well with iPhone typing.)

  7. I have a colleague that stands all day at his cube… but he has a back problem. You sir, have no excuse.

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