Spazzmanda

It really isn’t the hokey-pokey?

Nope. This is love. THIS is what it is really all about. I’ve finally uploaded T’giving pics to my flickr, check them out.

Last minute can sometimes be amazing. I’m going to a very fancy-schmancy event to represent the old workplace tonight. I have to go stag and wearing dress a little too big for me, but I think it will be fun or at the very least interesting.

See? See- that’s just the fun just waiting to happen. Yes that is my bra. It doesn’t fit either. But it is the best I can do with only a few hours notice. My Mamama would say I needed a “pin.”

The Christmas decorations in the background are courtesy of my mother who said “no, you can’t skip decorating this year just because you don’t feel like it.” Well way to piss on my bah-humbug party. So now I have two trees. Both dinky. One new one considerably larger than the last. (Thanks Momma.)

So she did the decorating thing on Thursday while I sat by (and waved) from the couch.  I’ll have you know I didn’t just sit on my ass, no, I also took care of that wine surplus problem that our country is currently having, seriously people, I can’t drink it all by my lonesome.

I went to the Knitterz Christmas party today too. They are such fun gals (and one awesome dude). Best part is that I got to keep the handspun yarn Shari made for the gift exchange– not from any strategy of course but because after years and years, I’ve finally perfected my pout. (I do think I might have cried if it had gotten stolen during the white elephant swap.) In fact, I’m possibly the worst strategerizer ever (oh, other than George Bush…) And I ate some sweets today! Lord have mercy, I was bouncing off the freakin’ walls as I tried to find a last minute date tonight. I had enough raw sugar to induce a diabetic coma-ginger snaps, fudge, ricotta cake, a little debbie gingerbread man, half a petits fours and two chocolate truffles. To say I am a bit wired would be an understatement.

On that note, have a fun night. Will report on the hob-nobbery and elbow rubbing, if indeed there is anything to report at all!

I snuck away if only for a moment… but even in my sneaky place (a.k.a my grandpa’s computer with the RIDICULOUSLY large screen and typeface) I can not avert attention. I am here. With my dad, my stepmom, my grandma, my grandpa, my auntie, and my uncle and my other auntie. I am maxed out with some Krollsteins. And Liquor. For reals. The only peace I get is the 2 mile walk I take every morning that is an absolute necessity because of all of the eating. The FOOD, you guys, I can’t even begin to describe it. I would try but the last time I did something greasy in this keyboard knocked out half a paragraph, so I won’t even attempt to remember what I said. It is bliss. Liquid, spicy, squooshy bliss and the backspace key is locked up with only what can be described as some exquisite residue from one of Dida’s former meals.

Okay, ew.

I forgot my camera, which sucks. I’m supposed to obtain some great pictures from my stepmom, so that is a relief. In this mix is a picture of an impossibly small dog (Puchacho) some impossibly drunk relatives (yes, I come by it honest) and photographic evidence of the moment where I somehow started a story about something tragic and scientific and tried to stop but was coerced into finishing and somehow said the word “erection” in front of my grandmother– as well as the look on both of our faces.

Update:

I suppose I have to elaborate on that later. If I even can do it justice, I must. I have enough material to last this blog a long, long, long time.

Tomorrow we’re going to the BEACH! Flagler? Daytona? I care not, I’m squooshing some sand in my toes and I can’t wait! Have a bitchin’ week and a Happy Thanksgiving y’all!

I’m going to see the Florida Krolls tomorrow! The excitement of actually going on a trip with my father is starting to be replaced with a feeling of unease. Imagine a dark house (the security shutters are down 24-7) an overabundance of delicious food (my grandmother isn’t happy unless you have to unbutton something after eating) and the bickering. Fun loving, married  million years, two people talking to you at the same time chatter. I’m so glad their relationship is still spicy. The parentals are going to stay in a hotel room due to an alleged “cat allergy” and I alone will be marooned. Marooned with Ernie and Marion.

Actually, I can’t think of any place I’d rather be. Sounds like… family. This is what the holidays are all about. Suck it up baby, time for togetherness, food and love.

Good news:

1.  I get to be all smooth and secret-agenty as I t take Florence on the airplane, or at least I’m going to try. I’m adhering to all TSA guidelines (as well as a few SNB ladies suggestions) but you never know when someone at security is going to have a crap day and view your knitting needles as deadly weapons. Oh, did you know that yesterday was national “Have a bad Day” Day? Who’s idea was that to tell people that in the morning? Idgits.

2.  I might actually, once and for all learn how to make my grandmother’s (and great grandmother’s) tamales. A family tradition and secret. Now that I have the capacity to understand the nuances in  their preparation, this may be my golden familial culinary education opportunity.

3. I get to see lots of family, dad, stepmother, grandparents and my aunt and uncle might be coming in the last day we are there.

4. The ocean. Flagler Beach is very near to where they live, I’ll take my running shoes and hijack someone’s car for an hour or so and go for a run on the beach, absorb some of the ocean air through my skin and lungs. Aaaaaaaaaaah.

Have a happy holiday! Oh and pray that Florence arrives in Daytona tomorrow around 11AM unscathed and unmolested!

I had fun on Halloween (but let’s face it, I always do.) Check out my photos at flickr- it is sort of a hodge-podge of the events that spanned over two days. On actual Halloween I tagged along with the boys to witness the debut of this:

Yes. That would be the tiniest storm trooper costume ever made. He was very cute. Er- I mean- scary. Storm troopers are BAD guys so he was fearsome. Yes. very, very intimidating. I was quivering in my Ziggy Stardust boots (I threw Ziggy together at the last minute because I didn’t want to wear my other costume yet and to see if I could.)

Here is my costume from Saturday- I was Jackie O. (My hat is a padded oatmeal box because that’s how I roll.) Mom helped me sew this last week.

There were many other good costumes this year. I saw two girls dressed as Richard Simmons (?) and my mother made a Cher costume.

Could you die? How funny is THAT?! Yes, my pop was Sonny complete with furry vest. I could go on and on about this, but I won’t. Being pressed for time and all.

Oh, so that brings me to the scary news. I’ve heard through the grapevine that my gym is closing. Wait! It gets worse! My gym is closing and merging with another gym nearby AND the teachers of the classes I love can’t teach at the new location because they don’t provide Les Mills classes. Which is a load of crap, but whatever.

Wait! If you can take it, it gets even worse. A certain unsavory individual that I have been fortunate enough not to run into (…yet) I believe is a member of the gym where mine is expected to “merge.” My biggest fear is that there will be much hair-pulling and potential blood shed if I am ever faced with a scenario where I would be confronted with her, particularly while adrenaline is pumping. I would like to think that I could rise above the situation -folks, it would be much more likely to end with an eye-narrowing contest- but the part of me that is still royally pissed (the part that believes I’d be fully justified in whooping some ass) would rather simply avoid the situation all together if at all possible.

I have no idea what sort of rights I’ve signed away or what this merging will ultimately mean to me, but I do know that the gym has been my sanctuary and I will not risk it being tainted by having to submit myself to the presence of… well… someone icky. Any creative ideas for getting out of a gym membership? I know they charge my credit card monthly and I can simply cancel the card and be done with it but I’d prefer to be released from my contract free and clear. I might have to go to the doctor and develop some sort of “condition.” I sure hate to lie but I may be without options here.

So, ever feel like you just “can’t” do something? It’s too hard… I’m not strong enough… I’m too tired… It’s too far…

Try making incubating a whole new human while simultaneously performing for a crowd, oh and do it with a live snake around your neck. My friend Fox is an artist/teacher/photographer/dance instructor/business owner/wife/mother/evil crafty genius and one of the best people I know, and here she is, 8+ months preggo and bellydancing this past weekend.

That’s hot. That’s why she is my hero. Send out some good vibes to our mommy to be, I just can’t wait to meet the new spawn in a few short weeks!

I have come home from paradise and things are much like I’ve left them. No, things are much better. This trip was a much needed escape from everything, it was heaven on earth with the most wonderful beach companions I could ask for. We rode bikes, ate seafood, oreos and ice cream sammiches, floated on noodles in the ocean and I enjoyed a peace the likes of which I haven’t known since (CONTENT DELETED SINCE I’VE GROWN UP A BIT.)

This is what fishing looks like:

And bike riding

And the house:

And my favorite girl:

OH! Of course, AND my finished shawl (I did manage to get my windswept photos of my finished stormwater shawl.) I wore it to warm me from the air conditioning and here on the beach, it is a very good wrap. I didn’t knit a stitch, but I read two and a half books and floated and sampled many daiquiri flavors…

I’m ready to return to the land of the living now, some minor post-vacation depression was nixed by a lovely, relaxing visit with my mother today. I’m good to go.

I’m at the beach. Y’all, it is be-yoo-ti-ful here. I started my day today with a bike ride to the end of the island. They’ve finally installed a bike path all the way to the state park on the end of the island. It was hot, for certain, but simply delightful. I spent the morning with my toes in the sand and my nose in a book. The afternoon by the pool. And the later afternoon with Margaret, contemplating another bike ride into “town” but ultimately polishing off four beers while Randy played guitar in the tent on the beach.

Have I mentioned the beach?

And my room (look closely, this is the only time you will see the bed made.) Yes, that is a purple kimono, gifted to me prior to our exodus yesterday.

 Yes, that is a Virgin of Guadalupe candle on the dresser, I’m a latina, that’s how I roll. So, day one is complete, I am utterly relaxed and looking forward to the week. I predict much floating, reading, sand squishing between my toes and just a tad of liquor. I may not ever come back… seriously. Have a lovely week, you may not hear from me for a while…

You know, I’m of the mind set that life is too short. Too short to knit with crap yarn, too short to quit eating cheese, too short to keep waiting, waiting, waiting for the good stuff. Patience is a virtue? Not necessarily. Maybe not for me anymore.

Life is too short to not live happy, like each day is your last ever.

Lucky for me, “Ike” is heading west. Not so much with the lucky are the Texans. But they grow them butch and rough-and-tumble (and armed) in Texas, so I have no worries about their fortitude to survive such a storm. Thank you Margaret for being our “Hurricane Central” and head cheerleader for operation beach blast off 2008. I’m so out of here next week. This will be my first vacation this year and I’m leaving in three short days. And I will be HERE.

I think it is the understatement of the century to say that I need this trip. I don’t just need this trip, I’m solely surviving presently because this excursion is so eminent. I finished the shawl. I packed three books, a large bottle of vodka and four swimsuits that are all too big in the boobs and the butt. I got my car serviced and washed. I finished painting the main part of my apartment and have all my crap put away. I have someone looking after the kitties and strict instructions at the office to call me at the beach only if someone or something is ON FIRE. I am all set.

All. Set.

Except for this T-shirt. I really need this t-shirt from snorgtees.com but I just don’t think I have the time to ship it for the trip. Oh, well. The vodka will have to be comfort enough.

Guess who did a radio interview this morning?

Yes Ma’am. That’s me on a local Christian station talking about work stuff. Pretty neat, actually. I’ve never done anything like that before and it was a 30 minute interview so I just kept on talking. (It wasn’t very hard at all.) Look closely at the FINISHED stormwater shawl. Yuppers. I finished and blocked that beast last night, I just couldn’t wait one minute longer. (More to follow.)

So you had better do as you are told.

You better listen to the radio.