Spazzmanda

Not much actually… other than spending 4 days with over 20,000 fanatical freaks, geeks and butt cheeks (seriously, it should have been called “Butt Con” this year.) I had 5 costumes to debut, but only got around to 4 of them.  Hey, there was a LOT to do! This one above was a wonderful collaboration with my mother which goes something like this:

“Mom, I want a vintage styled Star Trek dress.”  and Mom says “Ok.” And I’m all “So, if I cut out the pieces, will you put it together for me?” To which she’s like “Yup.” and a week later “poof” we have a dress. (The hair was all my jumbo bumpits used to achieve a retro-do.)

This photo was taken after the big parade, Jeff (that’s him on the left) marched with our friends’ 6 year old “B.” He was such a trooper. (groan. I know, even I thought it was a bad pun.) But I was so stinkin’ proud of this little boy, he was such a little man. He posed for photos and pointed his little blaster and put on a great show for all the fans that were positively beside themselves in the presence of teeny stormtrooper. He was the only teeny trooper in the bunch. HERE is a link to a photo of him with the whole brigade. (Is brigade even the right term here? Is there some other snazzypants Star Wars word I should be using?)

I have quite a bit more to share, but will have to follow up later. I’m nursing a wee bit of a cold and need to focus on preparing for my exodus to the beach this weekend!

So peace out, live long and prosper, and may the force be with you and stuff.

I love that my grandpa has a scanner, a computer and lots of time on his hands.

My grandparents at 1972 Square Dancers Convention in Macon, Georgia.

They met Jimmy Carter that night.

Jeff’s horse Max died today.

This picture was taken just over a week ago, he had been sick so we went to visit him out at the pasture. He had just turned 27 on June 29.  Naturally Jeff is broken up about it. Send good thoughts his way today.

So, Jeff and I went on the most perfect date on Friday night. We traveled 30 whole minutes to partake in the Big “E” Festival in Cornelia, Georgia. An annual festival exclusively for Elvis devotees, I am baffled it took me so long to make the pilgrimage. Friday night featured performances by winners from previous years, the junior level of the competition was absolutely mind boggling, and then there was this guy.

He performed for over an hour as if he was singing to a stadium and not a bunch of folks on the front porch of the Loudermilk Boarding House Museum. And he was fantastic. He was much better than that dope in Memphis that said he was present the day Elvis passed and was allegedly one of his best friends… I wasn’t convinced at all. (That dude seemed as if he’d told enough tall tales that they eventually became fact.)

I was in absolute heaven, the best cheap date night ever, live music, museum tour, shaved ice for two, it was awesome. The museum itself featured the most bizarre assortment of Elvis memorabilia, anything and everything king-related, but with a top-notch gift shop, I had to restrain myself, really I did.

Okay, I geeked out a little bit, I’ll admit.

Even though it was an almost perfect evening, I must say that I have one small criticism of the event. The lady that has shouldered the responsibility for the event seemed a little bit off. And not in her devotion to Elvis, that was spot on. Rather I’m speaking of her enthusiasm for the event itself. As she was kicking things off and thanking her helpers she also stated to the crowd that it would be the last year that the festival was at the boarding house and she was not sure where it would go to, if anywhere, next year. When asked by a disappointed audience member the reason why, she flatly stated “Cuz it’s too much work.”

It sort of put us off just a little. Yes, it was probably true. Yes, holding this particular festival in such a small town is probably a thankless and exhausting job. Maybe the city doesn’t support her as it should? The bank let her borrow the tents and she seemed to have printers support in signage, etc. I don’t know for certain the details and won’t presume to understand, but you surely don’t say something like that to your guests, many of whom have traveled from out of state to support your wackiness. It made us feel a little like she had said “thanks for coming, paying entry, shopping the gift shop, supporting the vendors, but you really aren’t worth all the trouble.”  Also, part of the draw for coming to this event is that the ticket price (a nominal $10) included a tour of the museum. As far as venues go, the front porch of the boarding house made a quaint and homey yet kitschy backdrop to a wonderful group of performers. I can’t imagine folks would want to go to this anywhere else.  It made me sad, but I am glad I got to see the 10th Annual Big E Festival in all its glory before it is ultimately retired.

Never knew you all were so easily amused. Glad since I have nothing much to report on current events I can at least supply humor through a sprinkling of self-humiliation. For the sake of humor, I suppose that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. (I have no shame.)

Thus, I am pleased to unveil MORE Bad Hair for your amusement.  I’ll never forget the “home perm.”  I think I had two, the second being the disaster. I’m guessing the home perm happened in part because it was the 80′s and we all were trying to achieve big hair, no matter our age, and it was due in large part to my mother being bored one day and thinking to herself  “Self, I need a project. Hmmm… let’s see, I think my daughter could use a new look!” So she tromped out to the drugstore for the box o’ chemicals and swung by the library and to borrow the “The Parent Trap” with Hayley Mills on VHS (because it is a little known fact that the amount of time it takes to roll and process  a home perm is precisely and exactly the same rolling time from start to finish for this movie.)  Fact. I should know. We did it… twice.

Not too bad, I suppose for a home perm. But the bangs are straight and the brows need a prunin’. (Notice I haven’t mentioned the mouth full of metal? Not going to either.) Aww, I think I had just gotten my ears pierced. Sweet.

Lord help us. Nice swatch, Spazz, it matches nicely with the dynamic black and white mini blinds in the background. I think this was the phase where I tried to defy gravity with my bangs but remained unsuccessful due to my lack of skill with a curling iron and heavy, floppy, hairspray-resistent folicles.  Is it the photo, or do I actually have sideburns here? On the upside, there do appear to be two seperate brows here, so I may have been formally introduced to tweezers (but not yet a trained tweezer samurai.)  I am not certain, but this may be the most awkward photo I have seen of myself without my cokebottle glasses. Oh braces, lovely, lovely braces. Themost unfortunate form of torture to a preteen. I already looked ridiculous! How could it possibly get any worse?

Aaaaaaah. Add a dance number. (And 5,6,7,8!)

Everything is better with glitter. Everything.

Have a lovely weekend folks.

I’m a fan of bangs… again. Seems that bangs come in and out of my life like the ebb and flow of the tide, like the waxing and waning of the moon, like something else poetic and pithy.

Sometimes bangs work, sometimes they don’t and I am the victim of a ‘bang intervention.’ Sometimes they were permed and pressed and teased, sometimes they are awkwardly short (or dreadfully long and dusting one’s eyelashes) and sometimes, friends, sometimes they were shorn by someone of ill experience. Yes, I’ve botched my own bang trim in the attempt to achieve something ‘pixie’ and ended up with a mess, but I was in college at the time and both confident as well as poor… but now I am referring to the “MOM CUT.”

Going through photos at my grandmother’s recently I stumbled across this one. I noticed the bangs straight away.

“Uh, Mom, did you happen to cut my hair as a child?”

to which she responded: “Yes. Why do you ask?”

“Er, no reason in particular.”

Exhibit A:

Like one inch of hair across my forhead, lopsided and what is that little dangling ‘chad’ thing on the left? Me thinks she missed a spot.

She didn’t get much better with time either.

Exhibit B:

I think she had a problem with the left side, what is that?

In her defense, I think she studied bang trimming in the school of her mother.

Exhibit C:

The prosecution rests. It would seem my mother executed the bang trim MUCH much better hers did so all is forgiven. But it would also appear that the left side was problematic to all.

Now what did we learn today? Unless professionally trained to do so, do not, I repeat DO NOT trim one’s own hair or that of a small, vulnerable child.

Fortunately, my hairdresser gives out free bang trims between visits to avoid just such a catastrophe.

I would say I have been busy, that is an understatement but no longer an excuse. Busy is a way of life for me now. I just had to say yes to an 8:30 AM meeting for Saturday morning because the prospect of saving myself some time next week was too good to pass up.  So there really is little excuse for not blogging other than after work, meetings, helping grandmother (who had a fall recently but is going to be just fine) going to the gym, attending birthday parties and planning for Kimberly’s epic return to Georgia, come bedtime I crash and I crash HARD. That and I don’t have much of interest to report. So in the interest in reporting on the mundane,  I got me some new boots.

Maybe I should back up and explain. I like this cable show called “Weeds” on Showtime. I don’t know if the programs are just that much better on cable rather than network television or if I’ve just been seduced into thinking that they are (and I hate commercials) but I love this show. I love the heroine, “Nancy Botwin” played by the gorgeous Mary-Louise Parker, who is a lovable yet totally messed up widow that in trying to maintain her quality of life has slipped into a line of work that is somewhat unsavory.  She sells pot. And gets into trouble. From season to season her trouble grows exponentially. But she wears the cutest cowboy boots with her sundresses and jean skirts and there I found inspiration… for my new summer ‘look.’ Is it odd to emulate a television character or celebrity’s style? Well, I never sported a ‘Farrah’ or ‘Rachel’ hairdo, never cut the necks out of my sweatshirts (but I did rock out a lace bow a la Madonna in the second grade)  so maybe now is my time.

So for this year’s belated birthday present to me from me with lots of love, I got me some cowboy boots. Now I couldn’t afford the $400 boots she wears on the show (that is just madness dropping that kind of cash on footwear) but I knew I wanted quality boots (not vinyl or pleather.) And I found them!

These Durangos are just the right shape with the right amount of non-fussy leather tooling, they are slightly distressed and slightly slouchy oiled black leather with a heel that isn’t too high, and isn’t too low. They seem to be not quite as tall as pictured, but that doesn’t bother me one bit. I slid them on and they are like buttah with fantastic arch support. They were, no joke, comfortable right out of the box! These boots retailed on some sites for as much as $150, but I got mine HERE for $105. I’m a happy, happy camper. (Best of all, Jeff thinks they are hawt so that is an added bonus.)

Le geek, C’est chic.

Take me to your leader.

It was my birthday yesterday. We had a cookout on Sunday with an alien theme, I went as a vulcan (sort of) and Jeff was Men in Black.  He grilled in a full suit for effect, THAT is dedication.

My galaxy defender.

There were a lot of these:

And these:

And this:

And green cupcakes:

By the time it was all said and done I was covered in water, bbq sauce, green icing, bubble goo and unidentifiable schmootz. In short it was a perfect day. Thanks for everyone who came bearing offspring to make 32 extra special!

(See all the photos HERE.)

I have neglected the old blog, and I’m sorry. Mostly I’m sorry, but I’m also pretty happy and busy in a good way. I’m still doing my thing, but between the new job and the new lease on life (focusing on taking care  of myself, working out a lot, reading, etc.) I”m tapped out. I’m currently reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (an early b-day gift from Jeff) it is a hysterical melding of two of my favorite things- Jane Austen books and zombie lore. I’m a freak, I know it.

So, here are some highlights from the past month.

Early in May I took a mental health day and visited Babs, we rode our bikes at the Chattahoochee River Park, turtles were basking in the sun on river rocks and the honeysuckle was blooming and it smelled awesome. We ate Mexican food and had pedicures. In short, it was a perfect day.

I started another lace shawl (because I’m a masochist) and at this rate it will literally  take me a hundred years to finish it, but I like the challenge. I knit without life lines and with a ‘close enough’ approach to lace that would probably have most knitters cursing and ripping, ripping, ripping. I’d rather the product be flawed and my sanity intact rather than focus too much on perfection. Is that crazy? The pattern is Muir, and FREE on knitty. The yarn is pretty and I’m so scattered I can’t find the label, so I just call it “Wool Awesomeness Gifted to me by the Lovely Claudia“. (the colors are much deeper than in this crappy photo.)

I saw the new Star Trek Movie with these crazy people:

Even if you weren’t a huge fan, it was still an awesome movie. I’m not sure there is anything else coming out this summer that I am really stoked about…

I hung out a lot with this guy:

And last week I did a “favor” for Miss Foxy by posing for a wicked cool picture for her. Sure I had to bounce on a trampoline in my underwear  at night while Jeff blew bubbles at me, but what are friends for? It is such a CHORE having a mega-talented artist take your photo… (that was sarcasm, did you catch it?)

My summer is off with a bang. Hopefully there are more fun things that I’ll be able to write and I’ll have the time to post more frequently.

My mom surprised me yesterday with a Mother’s Day thank you for making her a mother. (I know, gulp.) And she gave me a copy of one of my favorite photos of us together, I was about 2 here, she looks the same… almost. (Mom, I still miss your gap, it was SO Lauren Hutton.)

I had a lot of hair for a 2-year old, and some crazy brows. I’ll see if I can’t rustle up a more embarrassing photograph from my ‘in between’ years. Probably something with glasses, braces, a bad perm and a flute. It will be real nice, I promise.