Spazzmanda

One of my oldest friends Jen (of SugarChef fame) was on TV!  She looks so good… and so smart… and with such pretty cakes- check her out HERE. Um,  “Jade” didn’t seem to be paying very much attention. I noticed that my girl Jen had to repeat herself several times (I hate that.) I’ll bet Jade could use a session with my therapist on active listening techniques and not just waiting for her turn to talk, you know?

I’m mostly teasing. Jen rocked. Because she is a culinary rock star you know. Not many in the world so yes, I’m proud.

Of course I do like cake. Making them, not eating them. And reading about making them. Oh, and watching shows about making them.  Ace of Cakes is still my guilty pleasure show on the food network, mostly because I like to watch them flip their shit out over deadlines and cakes falling apart and then the stoner/cake designer/fix-it-man “Geoff” swoops in with his monotone voice and his bag of tricks and manages to always save the day just barely before the bride/client/celebrity/birthday boy walks in. Or it could be edited to heighten t.v. drama, I dunno.

No. Not really. I was going to try to come up with a clever story about the gym as per request, but I’ve got nothing. I didn’t slip on my own sweat in step class (although I have done so once and nearly turned my ankle in the process.) No more men asking to help me “count” or anything. I am going to try a cycling class this week for a new challenge, we’ll see how that works out, it may be injury-inducing and therefore funny! Hang on to your hats!

Um. Nothing new to report here. Having a grandmother night. Going to drink (and probably will need it.)

Peace, love, chocolate and homemade pie to you on this glorious fall day!

I’m having a lot of work and not a lot of anything this week. Catching up sucks. I did go to Rachel’s birthday party last night, THAT was fun! I got to play with her beh-beh and eat chocolate fondue.

So, yeah. Working very late and sleeping not enough. I’d say I would be looking forward to sleeping in on Saturday, but I’ve got to get to the gym, for reals, it’s time to get reacquainted.

So, my horoscope today (sorry, I don’t have much to report right now and I’m desperate for content)

Gemini: The obstacle between you and your goal doesn’t have to be overpowered. It’s amazing what defenses you can bring down with your persistent softness. You’re like the water that turns mountains into sand.

Hurumph. What the hell does that mean?

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 Jeff brought the bunny boiler into our life. In a word, it was perfect. Thank you John Olin and Barbara for bringing me, once again, on this beautiful family vacation.

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.

I’ve had a “sad” day. It happens. It sucks. It sucks donkey balls. The only thing I had to look forward to today was an aerobics class (I know, even I’m embarrassed to admit that one) until I spoke to Jenny and have been recruited to help her with her “Baby Bobbi Bear Butt” at the Starbucks tonight with Arnold (it’s a knitterz thing.) So I have two things to look forward to. It’s just a non stop party for me.

I’ve been moping something fierce today. I want my life back. But there is no “back” so I’m stuck with what is. Quite frankly, what “is” is enough to make me want to slice open my wrists with something dull and rusty. Today anyways. But probably not tomorrow. I think I have a vague inkling what serious depression actually feels like now, no desire to be productive, no desire to move, feeling like a zombie. I’m not at that level, I’m just saying I have the ability to relate to that level of sinking and see why people seek meds. I want meds. Good thing my Doctor can’t give me any, ‘cuz I’d take them by the fistful on days like today.

I didn’t really get to take a full lunch break today due to more work stuff that even if I did talk about it here, I just don’t want to (it goes back to that dull and rusty scenario so let’s not.) I decided to go to the Dollar General (where things generally cost dollars) and stock up on some stuff for the beach, the beach, the beach beckons and is only 9 days away. So I wandered. I bought deodorant in a double pack, some motrin, some benadryl and dove soap. Needed some laundry detergent. Neat. All has a perfume free version. Bought that too. While pondering the purchase of a “Dora the Explorer” kite that looked sort of rinky-dink for the wind gusts in St. George (particularly during hurricane season) and there I saw it. And it stopped me in my tracks.

Yes. That IS Alanis Morissette’s “Jagged Little Pill.” But it’s special, its acoustic, it was 5 bucks. It whispered to me, buy me. I’ll make you feel better. Everyone can remember the song that was positively an anthem for wronged women everywhere, but this time it is softer with a hint of Indian sitar just for flavor. Could it be that Alanis (and I) have matured somewhat? I remember the original counterpart of this slice of rock n’ roll history the summer before my freshman year. I had just busted my then boyfriend smooching his “room mate” - but honestly, I was probably going to break up with him anyways since he was a. too old for me and 2. I was about to go to COLLEGE and c. who wants a boyfriend at home when they are in COLLEGE when there are man feasts aplenty? - Holy cow. I had totally forgotten about that. See, I have been cheated on before! I remember now. His name was Mike Manly- and no I’m not joking- and her name was Jennifer something or other. She actually wasn’t a skank though, she was pretty nice except for the liplock with my man and all. Weird how music triggers dead and buried memories.

Alanis’ lyrical stylings made my heart sing with “Yeah! Men are all dogs and they do all suck!” Little did I know that six months later I would be wanting to gouge my eardrums out because every.single.girl.in.my.freakin’.dorm played this album on a loop.

The lyrics are still enclosed with the CD. Oh, Alanis, as if we could ever forget.

I still have my concert T-shirt. I know what I’m wearing to bed tonight.

Woah-oh, living on a prayer.  Not a bad song to have stuck in your head at all. Especially because we’ve made some serious strides in finishing up operation apartment do-over.

That is half of a finished apartment. Windows painted, patches where painters tape pulled off the paint fixed, furniture moved back (and vacuumed), new curtains courtesy of Momma (thank you again P.S. and by the way) and art work hung.  We stayed up late. I had a smidge too much wine, but it was all well worth it. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful living room that can actually be lived in. (This might actually get me out of bed.)

Now. As far as the other half of the apartment…. not so much… yet… but there really isn’t very much painting left. I’m feeling pretty good about all of this. We watched “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” last night (yes, again) because musicals and whores, what is better than that? They do look so happy being whores, singing, dancing, hanging out with Dolly Parton. I asked my mother if she actually wanted to ask a local singing, whoring individual who shall remain nameless if she enjoyed her work half as much… I think I might still have her number here somewhere from the last time she called me and got all white trash on my voice mail (I might have touched a nerve with the old blog here…)

Oh, in other news, two of my college roommates delivered baby girls yesterday! Beth had her second- Sara Kate and Nicole had her fourth- Vivian Lauren. Way to go with the birthin’ ladies, the last two weeks have been all about the new humans coming into the world, I couldn’t be happier for all of you guys!

Have a great holiday weekend- I’m retreating to the mountains again, it should be fun… ish. We’ll see.

Nope, still not painting and the house is a disaster, but I don’t care. (Well I do but there is only so many hours in each day so I’m just not going to care and continue living in the bedroom until further notice.) I do seem to be making progress on my stormwater shawl.

The colors in these photos are crap because it is raining and I needed a surface to spread out, which was the bed so the lighting doesn’t really show how pretty the silk really is. The good news is I only have a twee little bit yarn left! The bad news is that it is two balls so that amount is really doubled.

(There’s the trusty quarter…) I think I can complete this in 17 days. Crap, I have to block it too, but I’m thinking a pin and spritz will do nicely maybe rather than a full on submerge. Any thoughts fellow knitterz?

So, I had dinner with grandmother last night. She says such colorful things. Like she wants some brunswick stew but not the “fake” kind that mother and I made her last time.  She said “Use the recipe that was my husband’s, your grandfather’s, you know what’s his name….. Jim.” Funny stuff.

I played “hookey” today. (Actually, I told the powers that be that I would be taking a mental health day and that was just fine for everyone concerned.) I started rather early this morning with a cup of excellent coffee and a vigorous walk with my Mom. We then had massages and facials at this really awesome little spa in Roswell. After that we had lunch at Nieman Marcus and splurged on some new make-up followed by getting our hairs did. Here is my new “do”.

Ok, so not devastatingly different, but still a happy change. We ran some apartment-improvement errands for my currently war-torn abode (I still prefer to live mostly in the bedroom.) Then I hung some art work for her because, let’s face it, that is something I am quite good at. I suppose when she birthed her little half-Mexican baby over 31 years ago, she was entitled to a little “Manuel Labor,” so I shimmied up ladders and put my foot down on aesthetics so that her newly-painted living room looked just right.

I’m home, exhausted, and preparing for my radio interview in the morning. It is a little local radio station and I’ll be talking work stuff (which I don’t discuss here) but I’m still fully stoked to get to do this.

UPDATE: Due to technical difficulties at the radio station, interview postponed until Friday, September 5th. I’ll write more on this later.