The Monkey Chronicles

LEAVING BLOGGER FOREVER

2011-02-17T23:33:00.001-08:00

Sorry there isn't a redirect option - I looked into it, but of course, to edit html code I need the Layout tab that no longer exists.

SO... I've gone to:

http://summerv.wordpress.com

Please update me if you follow this blog in any way. LUV U GUYS!!!

S L O W...means more than you think

2011-02-17T17:42:00.000-08:00

Blogger has lost its mind, so I'm having to type this in instead of cut/paste. Stupid thing...

We went to Seligman, AZ a couple weeks ago. The pics still aren't ready and my schedule changed twice since then - I'm still trying to get reoriented. It was a nice weekend hop, cruising Route 66 and stopping at all the odd little places along the way. Stopped in Hackberry to take pictures; if I ever acquire an old GMC truck from the early 60's like my folks had, Hackberry is where I'd go for parts. We did the Grand Canyon Cavers tour, made that much better by our odd tour guide, Bob. Seligman is a jumping classic car mecca in the summer months, but in January when it's cold, half the town is closed. I suggest West Side Lilo's Cafe over the Roadkill Cafe and a visit to the Return to the 50's shop for an alien driver's license. Visited Keepers of the Wild in Valentine, AZ on the way back - lots of tigers and video of emus doing the unmentionable. It was deeply necessary to get out of town for awhile; I'm feeling that way again actually...

I went clubbing for the first time on the 7th for my roomie's birthday bash at Marquee. I managed to pull some strings last minute and get us a table and comped bottle. Honey, I and our friend Jodi shut the place down at 5:30am. I was sick for the next three days; she was sick for two. Honey drove me home and was fine. It was a lot of fun, but the aftermath was horrific and I probably won't be going to that level ever again.

We bought a couch. It brings the place together and makes it look like someone lives here. Not to mention it was a steal at $80 for a two piece sectional. The studio has been resurrected and is ready for business. Hopefully today an ad will go out.

Besides that...I'm still settling into who I am. It seems ridiculous it should take nearly 30 years to figure out what I am, what I really want from life, what's important and what's not, but that seems to be the way of it for me. I'm slow, but also slow: everything is easy going, mellow, relaxed, no stress - that's the groove I'm getting into. There's more room for my brain to think creatively, more sense of the right now around me, and it harmonizes with my inner rhythm. I guess my inner hippie is winning the day. And it feels good.

Sunshine and Butterflies

2011-01-12T13:18:00.001-08:00

I've had some excellent inspiration for this blog recently, but also haven't been anywhere near it to communicate them. The caliber of people I've been meeting at the gallery is improving - they're not all art buffs, but the conversation is stimulating. Met Gregory from San Diego who has dreadlocks down to his waist. I had a long phase (for lack of a better term) where I really wanted to have dreads, so we chatted about that. I gave him the website for the blacksmiths where he can get a hair staple like I have (whose site is currently down, but it's www.poundiron.com ); he gave me the site for some excellent hair care products. We also talked about tooth whitening and shared our pain stories about 'Zoom!'.

Borrowed an excellent book from the shop called The Four Agreements, that I'm hoping to put into practice. Been researching methods and materials for my version of the pouf mentioned in previous posts. Had French toast at 2:30am two nights ago and some great conversation with my husband - he has excellent advice for navigating the complicated work scene.

I'm trying to remember some of the light bulbs that went off I wanted to share....
One was a quote posted in the office at work, that I swear was just for me. It reads:
The trick is what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same. - Carlos Casteneda

Another thought was that when asked what my career goals are or what my career is, my answer shall now be "Happiness". Or better yet, that I'm working towards being a professional bum. I've broken the spell finally that says my career defines me. I don't define myself by my career, because ultimately, taking everything into consideration, that would make me miserable. From the perspex of others, I'm an interior designer wasting her talent in an art gallery. Before this gig, I was the designer wastinger her talent in a lighting showroom, which usually produced that long drawn out, pitiful "oooooo"; which used to offend me because part of me believed it, saw it the way they did. Now though...Eh, followed by a shrug. What and who I am has nothing to do with where I work; also has nothing to do with my success in this life, or my happiness. That great book I mentioned earlier talks about making agreements with yourself that ultimately define your inner truth, and what I've gathered so far, only being two chapters in, is that my truths up to this point have been provided by others (so have yours) and I chaff against them because they're not true to what I am: a happy free loving spirit. My soul doesn't want all this fuss, all this pain and frustration; it wants sunshine and butterflies and all things to be right in my world - the hippie motto, if you will.

I can have it. So can you. I'm not going to listen to any feeble arguments you have to the contrary either. :)

Anyway, daylight is a-wasting. I'll start jotting down those bursts of inspiration... Until then.

Finding my way...

2011-01-01T23:04:00.000-08:00

I’ve been meeting some interesting folks at the gallery. Had a Ted Nugent look-alike confuse me to death with some shpeel about the Native Americans’ solution to the white man destroying their lands, which apparently was a 5 x 10 block piece of graph paper colored in primary colors. Yeah.

Today I met some nice gentlemen from Etna, California, population roughly 766. They’ve been living in a “wall tent”, off the grid, for 9 months and counting. See wall tents here. I think that’s fantastic. Now if I could just figure out how to become a vagabond myself…

Let’s see: pay off car, buy small caravan OR build little house on wheels. Sell or donate just about everything I own. Find portable, location-independent means of earning a living – that’s where it gets hard. Well, challenging. I haven’t come up with a brilliant answer yet, but I’m working on it.

I’m also working on creating my own version of this very cool poof. I already have someone who wants to buy one from me if I’m successful.

Just trying to find my own way in a sea of meaningless chatter and chaos. The boys from Etna mentioned how coming to Vegas is sensory overload compared to how they normally live. I wouldn’t mind a bit less of that myself. Change the way you see the world and it will change the way the world sees you. My oft-used line about being forever disappointed I didn’t run away and join the circus was answered today by an EMT from Chicago, who said “it’s never too late, if you really want it.”

Yes sir, you are indeed correct.

The Chess Game

2010-12-20T23:20:00.000-08:00

I’ve been neglecting this blog, but with good reason. Got a new gig, with half again as much money; worked 11 days straight, racking up the OT, before a head cold caught and stomped me. Two weeks with people too sick to stand but still at work because they need the money.

Been there.

So far the new gig is great. Been feeling everyone out and playing the chess game that is new employment, everyone jockeying for position. We’ve got all highly educated people, for better or worse, some who need to be in front more than others. My goal is to be the ‘butler’ – the one who knows all the dirt on everyone but doesn’t appear a threat to anyone; the unassuming problem solver who you turn to when you killed someone. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I work in a conceptual art gallery now, so there shouldn’t be any actual death. But we’ll see. Once someone starts selling the stupid expensive stuff ($71k)… Check out this site - that's what I work with.

I realized a glaring hypocrisy while driving home on the freeway the other night: people complain about how violence on TV/video games/etc is damaging to our children, yet the parents are the ones slowing down on the freeway when they see flashing lights, craning their necks, hoping to see a mangled body in the wreckage. Think your 2-yr old doesn’t see you doing that nonsense? Just saying.

Christmas is this week. Yeah, I’m not ready either. I work that day till 7pm anyway. It doesn’t feel right to revel this year. So many people are scraping by, barely, or worse. I still have a roof, a car, and the one I love. That’s enough for me.

Genetically Modified Food

2010-12-07T00:56:00.000-08:00

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when I say “genetically modified food”?

Can I get a resoundingly unanimous WTF?

I just finished watching a documentary – one of the scariest I’ve ever seen – about everything that’s happening to our agriculture these days. Quite frankly, I feel like a lab rat. All sorts of atrocities are taking place in this country, spreading to other countries against their wishes, and being skillfully not mentioned by the companies perpetuating and profiting from this madness.

I’ve never felt such sadness and been so fucking livid at the same time. I don’t want to eat anything – possibly ever again, because my government has allowed a bunch of crazy scientists to manufacture bacterial viruses, and other funky stuff into my food, and feed it to me without mentioning their meddling. I have never been so disgusted in my life – and for those that haven’t hear the story of my family – that’s pretty fucking disgusted. They are doing gene warfare and forcing the splicing of things that would never have normally blended together in Nature to create crops that need herbicides to grow. Oh yeah, and it’s patented.

For God’ sake, you should not be able to patent a living thing! That’s in God’s hands and last time I checked, every sinner on this planet was coming up a long way short of being on the same playing field with the big guy. But they are; they’ve patented seeds. And everyone with a thimble-worth of sense who could and should stop this insanity isn’t doing a damn thing. They’re taking a fat paycheck from the corporations running the whole mess. Its corn, soybeans, wheat, and cotton. It’s being exported to contaminate and eventually crowd out diverse species of these crops all over the world. It’s not labeled and you’re eating it without even knowing. Unless of course, you’re one of the ones whose had a severe allergic reaction and was rushed to the hospital.

I can’t believe we’re standing for this. There should be protests in the street. Every parent in the US should be camped on the White House lawn demanding this madness be stopped for the sake of our children. But they’re not…and won’t be anytime soon, because these giant corporations contribute hugely to government. They work for the government, the EPA, the FDA. They bought the rights to attempt perfecting Nature via compaign contributions and lobbying.

These big corporations are trying to sell us that “bioengineered food” will save the 800 million starving people around the world.

It won’t.

We already over-produce food, enough to feed all those starving people. Wanna know why we don’t feed them? They don’t have money to buy that food, and of course, we all know that nothing happens anywhere without a dollar being exchanged.

Not only will we be our own demise – we richly deserve all the suffering we get. We are a pathetic excuse for the “superior race”. We won’t even feed our own starving people because we’d rather ask “what’s in it for me?”

Check out this vid on Hulu for yourself. Don’t know about you, but I’ll be shopping organic and heavily taking up gardening as soon as humanly possible. And possibly moving to a country where the protesting people are being heard and that 'GM' crap isn't being allowed.

To anyone who reads this blog, please spread this far and wide. The optimist in me still has hope that our voices or a catastrophe will interrupt this madness.

The Cost of Education

2010-12-05T18:09:00.000-08:00

I just read a Yahoo! News story about student loan debt. I'm a bit torn about the whole thing. The girl in the story is 23 and spent $200k to earn a sociology degree. Hers aren't all federal loans either - they're private and subject to a balloon payment, which as of Nov 2010 jumped from less than $900/mo to $1600/mo. That's like having a second mortgage. Part of the agrument featured in the article is that everyone believes a higher education is the gateway to a successful economic future...when these days it's more of a gateway to a lifetime of debt.

I come from a family where higher education is valued, coveted, and expected. I have a bachelor's degree. I make less now than I did 3 years ago and am lucky to have a job. My husband, who is a high school drop out and a freelance photographer (in case you haven't visited the link and know this already) makes anywhere between 6-10x what I make an hour. Someone please explain to me where I went astray.

At the bottom of the article many people left comments: some are in the same or an equally sinking boat, others are...haters, for lack of a better term. They think she should have taken a different path, or chosen a different school, that she was a sucker for a supposedly 'big reputation' university, etc. I think they're projecting their own feelings of being a sucker on someone else. Everyone still thinks they're somehow 'less' if they don't have a college degree. It's still the big dream, and reality usually doesn't come into play - and perhaps shouldn't - when planning the rest of your life. Personally I'd like to know why the cost of education is going up, yet the quality and weight of that education is going down. My bachelor's means just as much as my mom's from 1970 (or thereabouts). I guarantee she didn't pay as much as I am.

So I'm torn. I would never borrow that much for education - in fact, wasn't supposed to borrow any - but that's beef between me and Mom. But my Mom is in the same boat - you can't do much with an archeolody degree unless you get a doctorate - she's not using a hard earned education. Expensive school doesn't equal more valuable education. I'm trying to tell a good friend of mine that - he's going to be attending the school I went to, paying private school rates, and racking up hugh loans...basically for the same education I got, one I'm not technically working in because it's flat. So follow the dream? Yes. Get student loans? Not unless you have no other option, not just it's the easy option. And what to do now, for us poor souls who owe hugh sums of money we cannot pay? Support each other. Don't hate. I know it sucks - I'm there. Pay as much as you can while you're working/in school. Owe as little as possible when you get out.

Other than that? If I had that answer, I'd write an e-book and be living the good life. :)

Parkour

2010-11-29T20:50:00.000-08:00

It was bloody cold today - the weather man lied. Cloudy and windless is what we were promised; cloud free and gusty was what we got. We did the planned photo shoot anyway. Two models dwindled to one; four parkour guys down to three...due to a ridiculous hang over, so I heard. I took some shots with the G-10 - that thing is so smart I'm starting to think I have skills... Here's a sampling:

Before I insert pics, let me just say Blogger freaking sucks!!

Ha ha! It's more work but outsmarting Blogger ultimately makes life easier. Amazing finished images should be up on Honey's website soon - http://www.felixgphotography.com/ - for those that don't know it already.

In a Word

2010-11-26T23:29:00.000-08:00

I've finally thought of how to describe myself in one word: classic. In two words: old soul.

I had a job interview for a company where a friend of mine got hired; I was advised the company wanted to know how we would describe ourselves in one word - who we are off the resume, so to speak. I obsessed about it, took a poll of all my friends, and ultimately didn't get asked the question. But Honey and I just finished watching a 20/20 special on Hulu about plastic surgery - the interview with Heidi Montag and how she now regrets everything she did - and I feel a certain sense of loss for humanity. Maybe loss isn't the right word, but we've lost some integrity about how humans are supposed to live. Wrinkles, people - we earn those through years of laughter and tears! You shouldn't be getting breast implants at 17. You should have a network of people teaching you from age 2 that you are perfect just the way you are, and that no amount of ignorant teasing from schoolmates will make you ready to kill yourself if you don't get D cups for your birthday. It's sickening to me. I think back to the 50's and how woman cared about their appearance, but in a different way: they dressed to flatter whatever figure they had, always did their hair, and enhanced with minimal cosmetics. Referencing strictly that portion of that era, we've lost something...acceptance of ourselves.

A friend of mine told me once I was born a decade too late. He's probably right. I don't relate too well to people my own age - some of them are so blatantly ignorant I can't stand it. The younger generation is one of want and self-righteousness, entitlement. Basically if you're under 30 and feel that by your mere existance I owe you something...I want to punch you in the face. I also won't respect you if you wear white base, blacked-out eyes, and black lipstick to an interview. Nobody gives a shit that you're channeling "emo"; they just think you look like a bad clown and need to grow up.

Do I sound like an old lady yet? Can't help it. Older than my years warrant. And with that I'm taking my decrepid ass to bed. :)

Daily Wisdom Nov 19

2010-11-19T22:38:00.000-08:00

You must learn to be still in the midst of activity and to be vibrantly alive in repose.
-Indira Gandhi

Life is Good

2010-11-19T22:21:00.000-08:00

As it turns out, the Fates are finally smiling on me - and it's about bloody time - because I have a shiny new job. One using my widely varied skill set, education (that stuff needs to start paying for itself soon), not to mention a pay raise and a shot at those coveted health benefits. This is one very happy girl who is moving up and moving on...whilst not burning the bridge she just crossed cuz you never know. Yay for me!!

16 decorative balls, fishing line,

a decapitated Xmas star and Presto!

There's been an injection of art into our house the last couple days. We both had the same idea for a creative new use for those decorative balls everyone puts in bowls on tables - we made a mobile out of ours. If I can find the picture I'll post it. We also got creative with an old school overhead projector and custom painted some graphics in the dining room -those I do have pics of - and it looks awesome. Texture is a pain when doing detail work, but we managed.

Turkey day is coming! I'm quasi-prepared... I don't have an official head count, or all the ingredients. I'm making a dish I've never made before and cooking for roughly 12. But I do have all the recipes (two were missing for awhile) and did some of the shopping today. We need more silverware... it'll get sorted eventually. It'll be madness between now and then, with new hire paperwork and another trip to the "talent center" to sign forms and get my picture taken (really freaking early in the morning), plus early baking and last minute "oh crap! I forgot to buy..." moments.

And I managed to go through the dreaded family photo CD without crying or getting terribly depressed. Life is good.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!

I was born under a wandering star...

2010-11-12T21:59:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xnbiRDNaDeo

I feel old today. Probably just tired...seems to be my natural state at this point. But, in better news and by the grace of God, we're still kicking. Seems we find what we need just in the nick of time. I'm calling it Divine Providence because frankly, I'm not that good. Believe what you like, but someone is watching out for us.

I went to a job interview last Wednesday. Oddest one I've ever been to. Try to show personality while answering a strictly work-related question. Just one question. I don't know if I dazzled or blew it. And their "oh you should know either way in a day or two..." email hasn't come yet. I'm assuming holiday interference.
Fingers crossed just the same.

It's an odd feeling I have about life in general these days. I'm not where I expected to be, or planned to be, or dreamed of being. Several steps from there in fact. In the same breath, where I am has a certain 'rightness' to it. We've been much worse, survived with much less, and suffered more; we're struggling now but it's not the same. I don't know how to describe how simple everything becomes when you're homeless. There is no rent, or utilities. We were fortunate enough to be working at the time so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. In truth it was more freeing than I expected. Call me crazy, but part of me wants to do it again. Just shuck all this and drive. I'll have to pay off the car first and they're a bit nastier about the insurance laws these days, but still. The feelings don't take that stuff into account. I would go backpacking in a heartbeat. Doesn't matter that I'm out of shape and have bad knees. I feel sometimes like life is passing and I'm not living it, that I could be doing more. The problem seems to be I'm letting this traditional shackling get in the way. Why do I need a house and a car? Why can't I just hop a bus or plane and go do? I can hear the bullshit rattling in your head as you answer that question for yourself. Think of it like a child - simple. How do you put a giraffe in a refrigerator? So...how do I live the life I dream about, gypsying where the wind blows me? Pack my shit and go. Simple.

Sort of.

There are other people who love me dearly who have other plans. Career-minded, professional plans that don't include dropping back to what seems to them to be the bottom rung. I'm becoming so anti-stuff it's starting to worry those loved ones. I don't want to own anything. Feels like that stuff equally owns me and I don't like it. I just want to go and see and experience. I had a dream the other night I shaved my head and took to wearing all those hats I like so much but never wear. I don't think it would be a particularly flattering look for me, but that's beside the point. I think a work commune would be awesome. That's all I really need. That and a pair of good shoes...

The possibilities are endless...

Me and Alethea

2010-11-05T22:50:00.000-07:00

What I look like after a 20hr day...

Paco the Taco and Hippie Priestess

2010-11-05T22:46:00.000-07:00

I worship the Taco!

I so want that gargoyle!!!!

What # are you?

2010-11-05T22:37:00.000-07:00

Quote of the Day:
Wabi is like the feeling of the evening sky in autumn, somber of color, hushed of all sound. Somehow, as if for reasons one should be able to call to mind, tears begin to flow uncontrollably. - Kamo No Chomei

I took a quiz of sorts today asking a range of questions where I was supposed to rate myself on a scale of 1 to 10. It's an odd feeling. How do I convey what I think about things if the answer is anything other than 1 or 10? For example, one statement was "I believe that the phrase 'the best things in life are free' is a myth". I don't believe it's a myth, the best things in life are free: love, friendship, happiness...they don't cost money but that doesn't mean you don't work your ass off for them. So the answer is "if you're talking about money specifically, then no...". What number do you think covers that?

The move is done. One roommate out; another in. I'm exhausted. 14 hrs. Today has been cleaning, collecting missed items, and trying to get situated. Not done. Found an excellent little burger joint, the kind we can introduce our "white" friends to - they'd never go on their own.

Working on endeavors to change a few things in my life. Fingers crossed...

I've joined the masses

2010-10-28T19:28:00.000-07:00

I've finally taken the plunge people - I've joined Facebook.

Up to this point (and even now) I've been more in line with the view taken by Stan from South Park: FB is the monster that consumes your life. And no, I won't tend your virtual farm. But as a free marketing tool, even I have to admit it's pretty good stuff. Everyone I know, for example, who thinks Honey's photography is cool, knows people who know people who know people, and all those people are potential business. I'm basically doing this under duress, but even my cheap ass has to admit nothing trumps 'free'. So....

If you're in Las Vegas this weekend, the Fetish & Fantasy Ball is on Saturday at the Joint inside the Hard Rock. We are working the photo booth, so if you'd like to be photographed whilst strapped to a whipping rack, come see us. Costumes are required! Most of my life will be consumed by that for the next 3 days - I will post costume photos of us afterwards.
Luvs

Hodge Podge

2010-10-08T21:49:00.000-07:00

Last night I gave paper bag curls a try. If anyone hasn’t seen the video on YouTube, here it is. Mine didn’t turn our nearly as well as the cute Asian chicks. See evidence below.

Creature from the Bathrobe Lagoon

Right after twisties were removed - with mixed results

Approaching '80's scariness

Not going out looking like that, I had to take a shower,which in turn made us nearly late for our corporate gig today. That didn’t go as planned either. They couldn’t get the occupancy certificate due to some incorrectly installed scaffolding; even the VIP party was moved into Sephora’s main space, so we showed up, took pics of the space for an hour (+/-) and left. We’re getting paid for the entire day, thanks to the gracious understanding by Make Up Forever. We love them. So 6 hrs worth of money for 1 hr worth of work. I love it!

Oh yeah, proof that my Cinnabon rolls came out nearly awesome the first time. Told you there was evidence!

Yeah baby!

As always things in our lives are in flux. We’ll need a roommate soon…OR we’ll be getting an RV and moving to Idaho…OR we’ll be getting a small apartment and starting a photo biz. It all depends really. Strange things happen and we’re just kind of rolling with it.

OH! Remembered what I was gonna blog about in the first place. Watched the movie Invictus. Very moving. We looked up the poem the movie takes it title from - very inspiring. Read below.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Cinnabon Drag

2010-10-04T22:28:00.000-07:00

Cinnabon. Is there anything better really? I don’t think so. Unfortunately Cinnabon has basically disappeared from the Las Vegas valley – if it’s out there, I haven’t found it. What I found instead was a recipe claiming to be ‘the clone’ of Cinnabon. I’ve made it three times so far with varied success. The first batch was the best though we cooked them a bit too long (Honey’s fault) cuz they didn’t look done. I have a photo somewhere showing how beautiful they can be. Second batch was a disaster and got trashed. Last one still isn’t quite right but definitely edible. It’s a very sensitive recipe. Try it yourself here.

In other news, I got to rub down a hot guy with coconut oil for a photo shoot. Yeah, just let your mind go with that.

Ran into someone I used to work with when I was a proper interior designer. She gave me the “Ahhhhh” full of pity when she found out where I work. I wanted to slap the makeup off her face. She’s doing finger painting to deal with her stress. I guess it evens out.

Speaking of make up…if you’re interested, I found an excellent demonstration of drag make up on youtube. This woman has skillz.

I can only breathe through one nostril at the moment. Whatever is blooming is kicking my butt. Allergy meds not helping. Stuffy head going to bed.

READ THIS!!

2010-09-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

It's IMPORTANT
http://www.farbeyondthestars.com/real-secret-of-success/

Monday, Monday

2010-09-20T20:33:00.000-07:00

It's Monday. That's almost enough said, isn't it? With my current schedule, Monday is actually my Wednesday, but it hasn't taken as much edge off as I'd hoped. Today was a good day. I'm working on a bid for a big corporate client - $7k in light bulbs if you can believe it - but it's been a lot of running people down and nagging until they help me. If I had access to their systems I'd do it myself - it'd probably save us all the headache.

We stayed out pretty late last night, what seemed late to me anyway after two nights up being up till 2am, and then got up at 6. That was rough. I'm doing this to keep my eyes open long enough for the laundry to finish washing. It would not be appreciated if I strolled into work tomorrow naked or in my pajamas.
Anyway...off to it.

Ms. Twitch

2010-09-18T19:56:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit twitchy just now. Got out of work late due to some stragglers. Had a good day, but have stopped moving and realized how tired I am. Sounds a bit too familiar really. If I were smart - and I'm not saying that I am - I would go to bed now cuz I've gotta be up in 2 hours for a red carpet event. I just hate that I don't get to see my husband...except right now I'm making him nervous cuz I can't sit still. Weird. Me.
Off to it, I guess.

Two Faces

2010-09-17T08:59:00.000-07:00

I ran across a blog of someone I've met in person and my brain is having a bit of a hard time with it. See, her blog presents a completely different person than the one I met. My tired brain is trying to mesh the two perceptions together and it just doesn't fit. I met this girl at one of the photo group meetings we no longer go to. She's a white chick with dreadlocks, which I was fascinated with at the time, so after the meeting during the mingle/network session I went to chat about hair. She struck me as not overly friendly; even on a subject she was obviously into (the locks) she didn't light up and get all conversational. I asked if I could touch one - one of the discussions Honey and I had was what those things would feel like in bed next to him if I got them - and her response was to ask me if my hands were clean. She gave off this vibe that she thought she was better than everyone else and I was pretty sure we wouldn't be friends.

Now, all that being said....I visited her blog yesterday. She and her hubby have taken the plunge many of us talk about but can't quite pull off for one reason or another: they've given up their house and become full time RV'ers traveling the country. Her blog is inspiring, full of hippie chick stuff, green living stuff, 'unschooling', and nice photos of their adventures. She comes across as a warm, open person, a gentle spirit trying to enrich the lives of her family, and make the world a better place. Quite a bit different from the person I met.

So, the part of me that still insists people are good says maybe this lifestyle change has changed her. What would I be like if my days were filled with a relaxed unending roadtrip? Another opinion that was voiced was that she's an extremist (mostly of the environmental sort), that her presumed feeling of superiority applies to anyone who doesn't think the way she does, and that this persona she's presenting is to curry favor with the blogging community (she has some 200 followers). I don't know about all that. I just know she's living one of my dreams, the one that's gonna be on the back burner for awhile, making room for something else. I haven't got a big house to sell to fund my expedition; I also haven't got family across the country to support me. In the same breath, I don't grudge that she did/does.

I'm just gonna go with the positive in that her blog appears (from a brief glance) to be a rich resource for lowering one's impact on the planet, dashing bravely into the world, and living life to it's fullest. It goes nicely with the quote I got in a Dove chocolate candy last night: What would you attempt if you knew you would not fail?

The Sickie Train

2010-09-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

I need to eat something. I've got that kinda icky feeling where my head is starting to hurt and my stomach feels kinda sour. The blood sugar is dropping. PB and toast are in my future.

Today has been a challenge. One of my customers from work was causing grief for the other guys while I was off - pretty sure she's more trouble than she's worth. Anyone who saunters in and demands/expects a discount offends me. It's a discount store already; everything is 50% off or better. That's not good enough for you? (Seriously?!?) Ended up having again what's becoming an old argument. I didn't win, as expected. Had a lady get mad at me for not giving her the fan blades she wanted. I tried to explain to her that the fan she chose came with certain blades, and no, I can't just swap them for the ones she wants. It doesn't work that way. She started tweedling, asking why not, and who's gonna know... People don't seem to understand that I'm not jeopardizing my job so they can get something for free.

.............................There's been a long unpleasant gap between when I started this post and now. I never did get that toast. The joke that's becoming my reality is this body is a delicate flower. She's easily upset and has a vicious right hook. The guys ordered sammies from the pizza joint to go with football and I managed to eat half of a half, forcing it down. I'm an undiagnosed hyopglycemic; the warning signs are as follows: headache, stomach ache, and nausea, which worsens over about 30 minutes. Eventually the smell of food with make me vomit, and by then I'm going to be very sick for the next two days or more. When it gets that far, Honey has to worry about me passing out in the bathroom in the middle of the night and throwing up on myself. Charming, isn't it?. Unfortunately, some days the pattern doesn't stick - everything goes sideways and I'm just freaking sick all of a sudden...like today. So I was rapidly heading in that direction earlier , and went to lay down with a cool cloth on my face, hoping a little quiet stillness would derail the sickie train. It's been probably 3 hours and I can finally sit up without swaying. That was a serious WTF moment.

Back to bed, I think.

It's Always Sunny

2010-09-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

Did I sound depressed in that last post? It wasn't my intention, cuz I wasn't, but I was run down and feeling it. Not every day is a great day, and on those not-so-great days I try to keep my mouth shut. I'm a closet angry person and though watching me self implode might be entertaining, I'm trying not to inflict negativity on the masses. I've been told that I'm text book 'depressed', undiagnosed of course. I have parent issues, anger issues, weight and lifestyle issues, and some days I wake up and just hate everything... which is neither healthy nor productive and makes me hell to be around, so I try to talk myself out of it before talking to anyone else. But being aware that I tend to "get the blues", now I'm paying more attention and trying to get my happy on. I used to be a very happy child; the world was my oyster in fact. I had the biggest dreams, hundreds of giant dreams, and I still want all of them - my head often gets in the way of how to have those dreams. Every hear the one about the different answers you'll get if you ask a child vs an adult how to put a giraffe in a refrigerator? An adult with tell you, of course, that you can't, with the size of neck and legs it's impossible. A child will say you open the door, take the giraffe by the neck, and put it in. Simple.

So why aren't I happy every day of my life and gone out to achieve all those big dreams? I'm still trying to convince my adult mind that I can put a giraffe in a refrigerator.

For the record, today was awesome. Any day I can wake up without an alarm qualifies as awesome. Got my groove on, had some Chipotle for lunch, went and helped beautify a house - I have mad cutting skills with a paint brush btw - watched a cheesy/cute movie over frozen pizza...good stuff.

Fumes

2010-09-08T23:04:00.000-07:00

I'm having something of an odd day. I over slept a bit - taking Tylenol PM generally leaves me feeling like I'm clawing out of a pit trying to wake up and keep my eyes open - work was good, I sold a large amount of stuff, the newest side job is going well. I even watched the new Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory on the Disney Channel...it's just that when I tried to work on my creative project... just blah. I'd say it was an overall good day, but not an amazing one. I don't have any reasons for this, but my theory is that I'm going thru the motions on a rationed energy supply. I haven't slept really well for about 3 days. The Tylenol is a last resort - I wake up groggy and retarded, the later being a lingering effect. So basically 'mediocre' is the best I've been able to do. From recovering over-achiever to accomplished slacker to average mediocrity. It's a shame really, that last part.

In the spirit of that mediocrity, I'm going to give up on this post and go to bed. Luvs gang.

Get your Turtle on

2010-09-07T21:35:00.000-07:00

We need to slow down.

I support hard work and enjoy it; many people could benefit from putting in a little more effort, but that’s not how most of us live. We live in frenzy, too many tasks, too few hours in a day, nothing done with any care. Never enough time, not even for the things that matter. Rushing, rushing... I just finished reading a Dean Koontz novel titled The Taking. One of the lines that struck me was about forgetting the past and forsaking the future to live in the now, in the ‘still point of the turning world’. We could all benefit from such wisdom. It also chronicled how Satan, mistaken as alien invaders (like from Mars), would come to Earth to collect people who had become too accepting of murder, which was basically everyone except children under a certain age and a handful of adults who would die to defend them. The lead-up events were ironically congruent with everything that’s happening right now.

Anyway, I’ve had three recent encounters, two with complete strangers wandering into the shop, that have touched my heart. One told me I was an old soul and to hold on to that quality. She’s 65 and our perspectives are remarkably similar. I gave her the above mentioned book after a bit of conversation and it brought tears to her eyes. She said it meant more than I could know and asked me to at least sign my name inside the cover. I gave her a hug and she hugged me back like we were family. The second, in the same day, after hearing that my given name is Summer Velvet, told me I was a hippie born 20 years too late. It made me smile. I’m all for peace, love, and happiness, flowers and rainbows. I believe people are inherently good, despite the repeated evidence to the contrary, and that there shouldn’t be nations or color or religions – all the nonsense that produces hate – none of that matters anyway, to me at least. And the third was Manfred. He’s 81, remarkably spry and cognizant for his age, and a philosophical hippie at heart, an old-school gentlemen whose worked in show business his whole life. His business card, which he told me, was very old and the new one was designed by not printed yet, reads “philosophy, poetry, choreography”. He had amazing stories of working with Fred Astaire and an encounter with Liberace. He said I was very open-minded. Then he asked me if I knew the definition of ‘soul’. I said sure, it’s the essence of who you are, pure energy. He said yes, it’s all that too, but it really means Spirit Of Unconditional Love. I smiled; I like the sound of that and it’s probably true, just our minds and hearts get in the way. Then he told me the most beautiful phrase, one that distills into a single sentence everything Deepak Chopra and all the other wise men are saying, one that resonated with me:

Divine Almighty Oneness, Infinite Soul Beingness

I leave that to your interpretation, but I wrote it down. There was urgency in my head, an understanding that it was important to remember that phrase.

My main goals in life are to work for myself, step off life’s proverbial treadmill and slow down, take better care of myself, and find / maintain inner peace. Doesn’t sound like too much to ask, does it?

My birthday roses

I need to add a few links to my inspiration list; this minimalist lifestyle has my attention. I’m exploring it, but I’ve found two blogs that I like very much. See the sidebar for new links.

Bad Parenting 101

2010-09-06T01:23:00.000-07:00

It's long after my bedtime, but I have an overpowering urge to say my peace on this one. If you have a baby in a casino anytime after 10pm - more specifically at 12:30am, who is wide awake and running around the race and sportsbook - you're a bad fucking parent. End of discussion.

Why in the world would you take a baby to a night out at the casino? That's our future, people.

Happy Weekend

2010-09-04T19:49:00.000-07:00

I did it finally: cleaned out the cavern that was my closet. There are four rubbish bags waiting for the donation truck. It was quite liberating. I tried everything questionable on and if I couldn't wear it comfortably (ie not breathing or couldn't get past my thighs) out it went. I also managed to buy a few things that do fit, which was nice. It was getting rather desperate around here.

It's been a wonderful weekend. Redbox movies, frozen pizza (and yes, I really said the tag line, "it's not delivery..."), a little shopping, and an adventure at the Tropicana Theater ($1.50 theater). We've been gloriously sleeping in till 11am or later, staying up till 2-3am, and generally doing whatever we please. I miss living just the two of us. On the other hand, I appreciate this house, which is outside of my budget. So there you go.

My brain isn't really coherrent just now, so I'll leave you with a thought: would you rather be dirt poor and happy or hideously rich and utterly miserable?

Pumpkin Crisis

2010-09-02T12:08:00.000-07:00

This is the second Thursday in a row that I've stayed up far too late (that's not the unusual part) and gotten to sleep in till I'm good and ready to get up (or food and bathroom necessities require it). It's awesome. This is what my life used to be like and I miss it. I've got another 3 weeks of this utopia before Mom comes home. Honey's pretending not to hear me but I keep dropping hints about how he should get his license by the time she gets back so he can drive her; I've paid my dues in that department.

Did anyone else know that canned pumpkin had some sort of health scare and is hence bloody hard to find? I have a recipe (a much coveted and therefore secret recipe) for this pumpkin dessert and went to four stores the other night looking for pumpkin, which is a standard pie filling, and couldn't get it. Needless to say I was considering donkey knockers for the Yukon as a form of stress relief. I managed to borrow a can from a lady I know with a ridiculously large pantry and so have averted this crisis for the moment, but the quest continues.

In some interesting cheapskate news, we've been let in on the secret of the closest thing to the $1 theater: the $1.50 theater. I went to the movies all the time as a kid because of the $1 movie theater. Even the concession stands were cheap. Granted, it was a dive - the carpets were stained and the floors often sticky, they had those rough fabric seats and none of the seats reclined (like they do every other row now), but I loved it. Got to be really good at Time Crisis (for a girl anyway) and learned to movie hop (which is ludicrous, I know, when the flick is a dollar). I also perfected looking natural carrying a purse full of goodies the size of carry-on luggage. They were good times. So now, in our recession squeezed economy, my grown up movie outtings are a thing of the past. The last movie I saw in theaters was Avatar (granted I saw it 3x) and since then a slew of flicks have come out that I want to see, but have resigned myself to waiting until Redbox has them. Now I have a middle option, a little wait but still the movie theater experience, at the $1.50 theater. Where is it you ask? Good question. Let me holler at my hubby.....
It's down in the ghetto on Tropicana and Pecos, right in my neck of the woods. I don't mind sharing this novelty with the masses - the success of places like this land squarely on the shoulders of the lower class (that's basically everybody who makes less than $600k a year so don't be offended), and frankly a reprieve from the stresses of the present, however brief, is well worth it. And at a buck fitty (that not a typo, that's humor) who can say no? I plan to waste an entire day there...

Wanna Solve a Problem? Eat CAKE

2010-08-27T20:17:00.000-07:00

Wasn't a very happy post this morning, huh? Well I've moved on...to cake. Was watching Bobby Flay's Throwdown show earlier and he decided to take on the "Cakeman" from Cakeville Cakes in NY on the subject of red velvet cake. For a long time I thought red velvet cake was basically white cake with a lot of food coloring in it. Not so! It's also not chocolate cake with a lot of food coloring, though there is cocoa powder in it. I found a recipe on Food Network closest to what the Cakeman did (who rocked it by the way) and am linking it for you here. HOLD THE PHONE!! A little further diligence on my part and I found THE recipe by Cakeman. See it here. Haha!

This weekend has been heavenly - aside from the financial stress-freak-out of this morning (the juggling was successful, by the way). I've been sleeping, got some one-on-one time with my hubby (whilst NOT working my butt off in the sun), Mom is out of town so no 6am wake up calls for me (Thank you Lord), and I've got brownies to take to work on Sunday so the boys will be happy. Oh, and I started jotting down ideas for that project that had such a bad start the other day. I'm feeling much more optimistic about it now. :)

So my new mantra comes from a Nickelback song: "we barely get by, but have the best times and hope it never ends". Now if I could just find that damn fine tequila at a reasonable price...

Also I've noticed (or had pointed out to me) that my due diligence has been a bit lacking as far as our adventures lately. For example, I breezed over our stay at Rumors, though it was awesome - some of it probably shouldn't be trumpeted to the world, if you catch my drift - but we had a great time and it's a great resort for you non-kiddy people (21 and over only), especially after the sun goes down. I had a total of 3 complaints during our entire stay: 1. not a single towel rack, so my wet bathing suit spent the night dripping into the sink 2. pricey food, the tapas (think appetizers) were $12 a plate and that's not enough to feed one person 3. check out is way too damn early (11am) if you've taken advantage of the 24-hr pool and stayed up way too late. On the positive: the staff is hella cool (we're friends with 2 of them plus we know the chef), there are hammocks that make a few cocktails feel really good, the pool is perfect temp at about 7pm and the spa is gi-normous, tops are optional and we appreciate anyone who would like to let the twins out for a bit, and probably the most important: it doesn't feel like the Las Vegas Strip. Oh, and there are these triple chocolate gourmet M&M's at the front desk that are divine for that after-dinner choco craving (any nobody said anything when I went up there with a napkin and took two handfuls to share with friends). The official grand opening isn't until September so it's a little lean right now. Anyone who's in the neighborhood and wants a great place to party all night - check it out.

Second thing I've neglected: we went to see Vinnie Favorito at the Flamingo the other night. It's a comedy show based entirely on the audience, so it's always evolving. If you're a bit sensitive about race, age, sex, usual stereotypes and so forth, you might want to skip it, but we had a great time. The guy makes fun of everyone including himself. My sides hurt when I left. Also check him out if you're in town; it's a great show.

Now it's off to a long night of waiting for wanna-be celeb's to show up for their own media events. Luvs

The Sorry State of Things

2010-08-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

I've just woken up, and not for the first time, to a check that's not enough to cover my bills. Honey will be proud of me that I'm not freaking out; I'm just resigned to more juggling. It's sad that I bust my ass every day for a company that doesn't give a damn about me, one that demands performance and results but can't afford me the basic cost of living. I don't think it's right to tell employees the recession is over and berate them about sales numbers, and yet keep a wage freeze in effect for another year or more. I've said it before: there's got to be a better way.
Short of giving up my car (and the transient freedom I've become accustomed to), there isn't more fat to be trimmed. We don't have any luxuries. Cable? We don't pay for it. Internet? Necessary for Honey's photography business, as are the phones. Storage is the only expense I can see that could be eliminated, and that's a big 'could'. It's full to the roof and the door, not entirely with our stuff.
Another thought would be to pick up a roommate... Not sure Mom would go for that and we'd have to pretend we didn't - pretty sure it says in our lease we can't sublet. BUT it would lower everybody's rent a bit, I'd prolly have to share my bathroom, and there would be no more naked time. On the up side, I'd have a little more wiggle room at the end of the month. I'm all for banding together so we can all make it through, and this is a 4 bedroom house. Honey's still sleeping, I'll have to run it by him when he gets up.
*sigh* It's sad really that this is what it's come down to. Remember when a man could own a house and put his kids through college working at a gas station? We've digressed quite a bit since then.
Well I better go get my juggling hat on... I know I'm not the only one in these shoes, but standing here anonymous and alone right now...sucks.

Writer's Block and Tequila

2010-08-25T22:44:00.000-07:00

I tried in vain just now to write something else. I got about a partial sentence and then petered out. I took advantage of a little ‘alone time’ while Honey went to play darts with the neighbors (he even drove himself, for 2 minutes, but still) to tame my bathroom and do a little *throat clear* grooming. I tried to start another project after that, one that involved peace and quiet, focusing of the mind and a concerted effort to make my fingers move on the keyboard…and then Honey came home, long before the usual 3am drag-in time. I got one tentative sentence typed, a partial one at that, before the spell was broken. *sigh* Try again another day…

I realized while scanning my live feed tracker that my last post was right before our stay at the new Rumors Boutique Resort across from the Hard Rock. There were 20 rooms comp’ed, a 24-hr pool, alcohol flowing like a river, and eventually naked bodies, though I crashed out before that. I discovered I like really good tequila and it likes me back – Honey calls me a tequila snob now. If you’ve never tried Milagro Resposado Reserve… Patron Silver goes down rough in comparison. Yeah, it’s like that.

I realize I’m not making a whole lot of sense just now. Yawning like a grizzly. Luvs.

Caffeine, Sugar, Repeat

2010-08-14T23:35:00.000-07:00

Again with the late and burning eyes. Two hits of Starbucks today. Just applied for a job with a company I've wanted to work for since I got out of school - the position isn't the one I want, but I'll take a foot in the door where I can get it. Hopefully I'll get a call back on that one...now that I'm thinking about it though I'm pretty sure my phone number wasn't included. *sigh* Fingers crossed anyway.

I've been reading this blog about the minimalist lifestyle. I want to go for it. I have a dream in my head I want to go for too - I dream about it every night in fact. It's time to make time for what matters most in life, which for me isn't all this clutter and material crap. I don't think I'll have a hard time shedding it; I think I'll have a hard time explaining to others why I dumped bottles of perfectly good perfume or donated an entire closet worth of clothes. (Because I bloody felt like it!).

Gotta get through this week. It's something like the week from hell. Nothing like 'no choice' to get the blood and the backside moving, eh? Morning will come sooner than I'll appreciate, so I'm off to it. Luvs

Typical Friday in my Life

2010-08-14T00:24:00.000-07:00

It's after midnight. My eyes are burning. Why am I still up, you're asking? Starbucks, grande caramel macchiato. It's been a very busy day. A friend summarized it as we go from one job to another job to another job... I paid bills today, ordered a roasted pig, went to the chiropractor, laid stone for 6 hours (+/-), and then went to a carpet that got a slow start and lasted 3 hours. Oh yeah, and laundry. That's multi-tasking only a woman could do. Don't be fooled people - I am the brains behind this operation.

I still haven't got any toothpaste. Getting some was part of the today's game plan but it wasn't to be; the fates conspired against me. Resorting to scissors in the morning.

Since I'm up, might as well get some nookie before I crash out. :)

Domestic Midnight

2010-08-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

It's late. I feel gritty and desperately need a shower, but it's not gonna happen tonight. I've been using Honey's deoderant for two days - my underarms revolted against something, became all splotchy red and sore, and broke out into what I think is a heat rash. Charming, I know. So now I smell like a man during the day and stink at night - not a marked improvement over the deoderant rock, which I love, but my theory is the bad aluminum is also lubricating to a certain extent and therefore keeps the chaffing down in extreme heat. Had planned on trying baking soda and corn starch - the gnomes stole my cornstarch - and plain baking soda made the already aggrevated skin burn till I washed it off. I've had an incident of burning arm pits before (back in Portland when I used Tom's Natural deoderant and had an allergic reaction) and like I said then: burning arm pits are funny but only when it's happening to someone else.

My home life is being neglected. I got beautiful roses for my birthday, but I'm never here to enjoy them. I'm planning on taking a few pics before they die, if they haven't already. Also, I'm out of toothpaste and hair oil all a sudden. My excellent intentions of clearing the closet clutter...haven't materialized yet either. The good intentions are there and waiting, I'm just never here. Hopefully pretty soon that will change.

I'm going to bed. Hopefully there aren't too many typos in this post. I don't normally write directly in the box provided cuz it doesn't check the spelling for you. What little I have to say should be well versed and spelled right at a minimum. 12:00am. Nighty night.

All about STUFF

2010-08-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

Had one of those mornings where the first thought was “Fuck you, alarm clock.” I don’t know if the solution is more sleep or less – seems I do less a lot more often than I do more – and I’m tired all the time.

Spent a good portion of yesterday jousting with a scammer’s automated email replies about a job posting on craigslist. I get two emails from different folks at the same company; one wants me to upload my resume to “the most popular online networking site”, the other wants me to take an IQ test – the first question was ‘how many months have 28 days’ – and which charges money to your cell phone bill. So I started sending replies asking for clarification and eventually flat refusing to follow instructions (I’m not going to an interview with my credit report in hand for their consideration, company credit cards or not). It started to get comical. I’d always get a response from ‘the HR Manager” who had no name or contact info, always from a different .com address. The phone number listed lead to an automated message telling me to follow the email instructions. I emailed them I wasn’t a vegetable and said things that would have definitely offended a live person. Instead of being told to step off, I’d get an email that basically moved me to the ‘next step’ in the hiring process. I posted a reply post on craigslist warning of the BS. Pointless and frustrating, I know. The next part of my plan is to spam the shit out of those addresses with free porn.

My poor underarms are not reacting well to the insane heat we’re having, or the conjunction of my deodorant rock and the insane heat we’re having. My skin doesn’t want to touch itself, I look kinda splotchy, and they hurt…? Who knows. I’m going to try a baking soda/cornstarch deodorant replacement experiment and see how it goes; some hippie girls online swear by it. Found a site saying you can wash your hair with baking soda too, or if you’re really hard core, you might consider the ‘no poo, just water’ approach. Not sure I can do that second one, but exfoliating with baking soda is awesome and dirt cheap. And if the hair thing works…I can probably get a 50lb bag of soda from Sam’s Club for $10-15 bucks. When my shampoo runs out, I’ll give it a go. Embrace the hippie chick!!

Ran across an article in Yahoo Finance where a woman pared down her abundance of stuff (big apartment, two cars, etc) to a 400 sq ft studio and 100 personal items. Total. That includes clothes, shampoo bottles, pots and pans, plates, furniture, and it would have included the car, if she’d kept it. She says it’s awesome. I believe her. I also believe I could do it. Honey, on the other hand, would lose a large portion of his allotted ‘100’ to camera equipment. I told him we better work out something close to it, cuz when we downsize to our little house, there won’t be much room for more than that. Once the house is done, I won’t need all the camping equipment, the bed frame will go, the desks will go (in favor of wall mounted, collapsible versions), and in theory, all the tools will go too. Honey may say otherwise about that last one. J I’m really not interested in having a storage unit for the rest of my days though. Let’s just say I have an aversion to stuff. I am anti-stuff, and if you’re stuff comes near me it may find itself in the donation bin while you’re not looking. So in the spirit of that, and when I have a weekend not otherwise booked to the hilt, I’m tackling my closet full of clothes I never wear. I’ve lived for 20 years holding on to things that “I’ll someday fit into again”. Yeah, that’s not happening and it’s bloody depressing. I live entirely in two loads of laundry that generally live either in or on the dryer anyway. And you can’t fit a T-shirt into my closet unless you wad it up and throw it on the bottom. It’s time. Besides, then I can go thrift-storing for stuff that actually fits me.

And I need some sort of change. There’s a certain amount of buckle down and suffer with the whole recession – I’m coping fine with that – but it feels again like I’m chaffing and stuck. So I’m gonna change me. It’s free. It’ll definitely make life interesting and that big distance between where I am and where I want to be will get one step shorter. So, watermelon and charity donations, maybe even a yard sale, opening those boxes that have been sitting there for 4 months…you get the picture.

Look out stuff, here I come!!

Masks Everywhere

2010-08-08T21:29:00.001-07:00

For whatever reason, today is the day I noticed how disillusioned I am about people. People in general I suppose, but also some people I actually know, or at least thought I did. Ever wake up one day and realize your oldest “friend” isn’t someone you’d associate with today if you met on the street? I get people change, some take it too far and others not enough, but mostly I want to know real people. Maybe I’ve gotten spoiled or more stubborn living with my hubby, who tends to be himself regardless of the consequences, but I respect knowing exactly what I’m dealing with. Even if I’m trying to get in your pants I don’t have the ambition for head games or the desire to play any. In those instances I think more like a man, which means zero in on getting the tail into the sack. The point being: be you and let that be enough.

I’m doing my damnedest to ground and center myself, to be a better person for me which will in turn make me a better person to be around; hence I want to surround myself with people like that. Unfortunately there are damned few. That leaves me wandering in a sea of self-absorbed fake people who don’t even see me unless I impact their lives somehow. Sad, really.

Happy Birthday Monkey

2010-08-06T12:39:00.000-07:00

First and foremost: Happy Birthday to ME!

I'm trying not to get stuck on the fact that I'm getting older, cuz we're all headed the same way and an OMG-I'm-almost-30 crisis is unneccesary. Unfortuantely, circumstances don't permit much celebration. Mom took me out to breakfast at my favorite pancake house, but soon it'll be time for work. As soon as Honey gets back from the hardware store, it'll be more brick laying in the backyard of the project house. The boys are out front valiantly trying to remove a stubborn tree stump. There's a deadline you see, a non-negotiable, fast approaching one, and regardless of the suffocating heat, how tired or sore we are, it's gotta get done. Period.

I found this work-from-home thing online today. Can't tell if it's a scam or not, many of them are. All I know is neither of us is up for too much more HARD manual labor - we played too hard as kids and are now semi-broken down adults. The body can only take so much, and my own aching back leaves me wondering - isn't there a better way? You know, smarter not harder?

My whole dream in life is to travel, needing less materially and having more spiritually. I want my little house; I want my dog that I can't own in any rental property in Vegas because it's "vicious"; I want wind chimes and the open road. No debt, no time clock, no giant crushing bills I need to juggle every month... I want it simple, good, and ultimately peacful. Don't think I'm asking for too much and don't care if you disagree. :)
There should be backpacking to exotic places, 3 month getaways to places like Bali, Italy, Austria, eating amazing food everywhere. There's not time in there for a 9-5. Part of me really wants a legit work-from-home gig - it's really the perfect fit for the life I want. The trick is finding one that's real and actually pays and doesn't require 18 hours of my day (that kinda defeats the purpose for me). The other option, which I haven't a clue how to pull off, is to put a large enough chunk of money into a high yield account and then live off the interest. Seeing as I don't have a large chunk of anything (not even cheese!), this may be difficult.

For now we do what we must - even when it's sweating my tail off in 107 degree heat on my birthday - in efforts to eventually realize the dream. Every small step brings us closer...

*Totally off subject, but I noticed how much nicer my posts are when there's pictures...but I'm not at home so you'll have to wait until next time. :)

Meet the Craftons - a true inspiration

2010-08-04T20:56:00.000-07:00

I had one of those rare conversations with my boss today that rounded out the wild wandering thoughts I’ve had lately. He’s got tons of well-off family in Hawaii that’ll provide him with a place to stay and help him get work. He can surf everyday and go fishing, laze about on the beach, and enjoy that classic Hawaiian slowness. I asked what the hell he was still doing here. If it were me, I’d be on the next flight with only a duffle bag.

I’ve had several things re-spark my wander lust lately…our trip to Utah, hearing about a that 28-day trip in the previous post, looking almost daily at the tiny house we plan to build and run away in, and now this story on a family of 5 sailing the world for 7 years. I’ve found their story again to share with all of you. Read it here. It’s beyond inspiring. And my boss has a valid question when he asks: “there are people all over the world doing it [running off and fulfilling their dreams], so why can’t I? But how do I do it?”

I’ll be adding some links soon for indie travel and an excellent reference for anyone serious enough to go backpacking. There are all sorts of sites for work-live farms and couch surfing, ways to live cheap and have a great time. If I were prepared right now, I'd be gone tomorrow.

The bottom line is: what’s stopping you? Decide what your dreams are, get your shit together (making every step one in the direction of that dream), and go. You only live once. :)

The 14th Amendment

2010-08-04T20:04:00.000-07:00

If you’ve been reading the news at all lately you’ll have noticed the 14th Amendment is up for debate. It’s the one that says if you’re born here then you’re automatically a citizen. And it’s producing outcry from all sides for different reasons: it’s no small matter to alter the Constitution, which has stood as the pillars of our society for 234 years. Most of it is political, some of it is Americans who think immigrants are taking their jobs (except none of us wants to wash dishes for 25 years, etc), and others think the public assistance programs are being bled dry by immigrants who don’t even pay taxes (none of us have 8 kids and work for minimum wage…). The article I read estimated over 10 million illegals here; we all know that “securing our borders” and all the woo-ha in Arizona lately is part of it too. The example given for even considering changing the Constitution was ‘a woman from Brazil coming here, having a baby, and flying home’. That was political fencing – we all know the largest numbers of immigrants aren’t from Brazil. Politicians were considering the very large number of Hispanic voters and their future careers. I’m sure it’s some, if not all of that, and way more complicated than any of it. Since everyone has an opinion on it, I might as well throw my two cents in. I have a slightly different perspective than most, seeing as I married a Mexican immigrant (he’s legal by the way) and I run into more illegals than other people I know.

Those guys from Cuba who made a pontoon boat out of an old pickup truck and 50-gal barrels – freaking amazing. That’s the kind of ingenuity and drive we need in this country. They want to be here.

I know two guys from El Salvador, David and William, who spent 28 days walking and hobo-ing on trains to get here. They lived entirely on canned corn the entire trip and used cardboard to keep warm. That’s in the neighborhood of 2236 miles.

Have you ever wanted something so badly? Would you walk 2236 miles for it?

I don’t think anyone aspires to be an illegal immigrant with the threat of deportation hanging over them. And remember, all our ancestors – unless yours happen to be full-blooded Native American – were immigrants who came here looking for a better life. That’s all everyone is doing. Unfortunately the systems in place are bursting at the seams. America has billed itself as the most prosperous nation in the world – has anyone read the plaque on the Statue of Liberty lately? ("Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses longing to be free..."). We have no right to be surprised everyone wants to come here.

I’m not defending illegally crossing into the US; I understand and believe we are having a population explosion that as a nation we can’t afford. I’ve gotten plenty of email blasts about all the benefits of coming here vs say crossing to China (where you’ll be shot by the way), how we’re all paying for millions who aren’t contributing to the good of us all (taxes), so on and so forth. But does anyone have a solution? We’ve all got plenty to complain about, self righteous folks on both sides, but no one has a realistic solution. Do we close the borders altogether? Easier said than done, but possible. Do we start making citizens out of permanent residents who’ve been here 10 or 20 years? They already pay taxes just like citizens, so might as well. Do we start asking everyone who looks remotely foreign about their immigration status? They’ll be mass uproar everywhere, not just Arizona. But really, what do we do?

The argument I hear the most is that the government provides all these services: healthcare, education, food stamps, housing, and so on to illegal immigrants. The catch is that the children of those illegals are citizens with every right to those services because they were born here. Hence the attempt to change the 14th Amendment.
All I know is the illegal immigrants I’ve met are some of the most humble, hardest working, and openly friendly people, who will share what little they have with a smile. They’re doing anything in their power to work, raise themselves or their families, and stay here. Those are the people who could better our country if the circumstances were right.

Monday Traffic

2010-07-24T23:13:00.000-07:00

Today has been plagued by a general insistence by everyone on driving 35mph regardless of the speed limit and for everyone else to ignore the implication of the music being cut off in a retail store (it means we’re closing now and you should check out or get out). I left work 30 minutes late and the mad dash began. It’s what I do.

The last week has been rather uneventful, at least for me. If it was, I don’t remember much of it. Sunday I got to go swimming and eat lobster for the first time (it doesn’t take like much to me…?), now all I want to do is go swimming. I’ve found a new author that I’m itching to delve into; he’s dead but the reviews say he wrote several psychological thrillers. I haven’t read any of his stuff yet, but they’re making movies out of them soon so check out Stieg Larsson’s “Millenium” series if you get a chance. Honestly I can’t remember what else has been happening…the internet was down and I did gloriously little on Thursday. The shop damn near fell apart while I was camping (the other guy lost his temper and yelled at the boss, said “I don’t trust you!” and other bad things), the boss took today off due to stress, and now we have an installation company we’re supposed to push who charges twice the rate of the freelancers. I sold my first installation the day of the meeting (my day off) in my beach shorts and flip flops. Yeah, I’m that bad ass.

Much of my free time will soon be spent on trying not to be so bad ass in retail. I’m shopping positions in my own field, which is interior design for anyone who doesn’t know. Retail has altered my perception of the general public, not for the good I’m afraid. People suck. And people have taken the adage of “the customer is always right” to include situations where the customer is being a complete and utter jackass, trying to get something for nothing, and/or needs someone to blame besides themselves. Case in point: we are closed for inventory. A lady comes pounding on the door, demands to be let in because the fan she bought from us was missing the cotter pin, her ‘handyman’ installed it anyway, and it fell from the ceiling, demolishing a coffee table and damaging the floor. Somehow this is our fault. Does anyone not see how retarded this situation is? If your shit is missing parts, come see us and we’ll give you one. If your handyman doesn’t know he shouldn’t install something with missing parts, then you got what you paid for. This woman expected the company to replace her fan, buy her a new table and pay loads of money to fix her floor. Oh yeah, and be seen and waited on on a day when we are closed. Just cuz the lights are on and you see someone doesn’t give you the right to pound on the door and demand service. There’s a reason the door is locked (to keep crazies like you out!!). So I no longer think people are inherently good. I think people are sanctimonious bastards who need to realize the world doesn’t revolve around them, it’s not that fucking serious (whatever it is), and I don’t owe them shit! And that’s at the start of my work week.

I have a new dream plan. It’s been occupying my head space for the last week, basically since we got back from camping, and yes, I’ve been mostly useless the whole time because of it. Maybe that’s why I can’t remember what’s been happening….? Anyway, I don’t want to spoil it, but check out this website for a hint. (Insert devilish grin here)

Check in for the gig I’m waiting on isn’t for another 40 minutes, which means carpet arrivals aren’t for another 70. These little bastards better be on time. “The Wolfpack” has a whole new meaning now which has nothing to do with the University of Nevada, Reno. Any Twilight fans reading this blog? I’ll reserve the next comment for myself. But you get the idea.

This Friday is my girls’ day out. I’m really excited. Haven’t decided what I’m doing yet, but whatever I F’ing feel like comes to mind. There should be a pool involved somewhere if possible.

I think I’ve run out of witty things to say for the moment. I’m getting tired though tonight is a long way from over. After this carpet drags on, I’ll go home and attempt to post my camping blog and this one, just for you. So feel special – I’m losing sleep over this.

Camping in Utah

2010-07-24T23:06:00.000-07:00

We made it back alive! Based on the weather we’re having today, however, we shouldn’t have come back at all. 108˚F with 20% humidity. Gag and then pass out.

So we planned this camping trip with friends, they were all gonna carpool and share a cabin, rent a boat for the day, see Bryce, so on and so forth. Then everyone canceled on us, couldn’t get days off, whatever, and what not. After being temporarily miffed, I was ok with that; decided we were going regardless and gonna have a good time.

So we canceled the boat and the cabin, got a camp space instead with the logic that despite money being tighter than a drum, we needed the trip. (I weighed my reactions to being broke when we got back vs. not going at all, and that settled it). Two days before we leave, the friends wander back into the picture, asking about departure times and if a German Shepard will fit in our car with two more bodies and our entire collective camping gear. The day before departure, we picked up two more. So now we’re a ragged band of 6, all arriving at various times after dark to set up tents half way up a mountain in Utah. We arrived first, with a borrowed tent we’ve never seen or set up before (ours finally died after the last trip), and using our Yukon’s headlights for light (her name is Winnie the Strong, by the way), spent an hour fooling with it, trying to get it to stand on its own. Once we finally got the thing constructed (nicknamed “Bitchy and Complicated”), we realize we’ve killed Winnie’s battery and she won’t start. She wouldn’t even try. Normally this wouldn’t be too big of a deal: we’re not out in the boonies by ourselves; we’re in a campground full of fancy RV’s owned by a couple of rascally Brits – somebody’s got jumper cables. We are, however, parked right where our friends need to set up their tents…and it’s the middle of the night. So then we wait. It’s rubbing up against 11pm Nevada time and still no sign of our friends, neither of whom have ever been where we are or driven that winding mountain road in the dark (when every deer on the planet comes out). I gave up and went to bed. Honey had a plan to push Winnie out of the campsite, across the road, and outta the way until morning. I figured he could handle it.

All our friends made it in about 30 minutes apart and even found the campsite. They woke me up enough to hear Winnie’s engine turn over under her own power, which amazed us both. Our car is smarter than we are, apparently, and hence the moniker “the Strong”. (Her name is Winnie because my license plate ends with ‘WNY’).

Our first day in the beautiful 75˚F weather was spent collecting firewood and frogging about in Dixie Forest, visiting our ‘love tree’ where we carved our initials back in 2007, eating too much at the Bear Paw Café, and playing chess. I had a lapse in judgment and sat in the sun in my underwear without sun block for probably 45 minutes; and yeah, Irish girl that I am, burnt to a crisp. My nickname was Burnie McLobster from then on. We tried to catch the amazing sunset from our favorite spot (called North View) but all the wind was kicking up dust and making it hazy. When we came back, the 7th camper had showed up and we moved down to his site for the campfire – there was a family reunion on both sides of our camp, so 20 people where sitting around their fire, drinking and singing ‘La Cucaracha’ to some questionable guitar playing.

Day 2 we lost two campers (they had to go home) and tried shore fishing. Honey got frustrated pretty fast and we opted to rent a boat after all. We got a small pontoon for five people and two dogs. I caught a fish, but broke my line before I could get him in the boat…which is when we realized we left the net in the car. Nobody even got a bite the rest of the day. I’ve never had good luck fishing there, no matter what bait, lure, or junk I throw in the water.

Day 3 was check out. I thought for sure the other couple would head for Bryce Canyon, since she’s never seen it and it was part of the original plan. They headed home after breakfast instead. We headed back the way we came, trying to avoid going into Zion the back way and being charged for passing through. We went back down to Cedar City to top off the gas, and then took a gamble that paid off a 100-fold. We took an unpaved track called Kolob Reservoir Road. Like Honey said, it’s not really one of our trips until we do something like that – wander off the beaten trail and go exploring. It’s where we’re most comfortable, just us two out frogging about. It was gorgeous beyond belief. We stopped and took pictures in several spots and came out behind the lake, which is only a short hop down to Spingdale right outside Zion’s front door. We went to Oscar’s Café, as is tradition, and had the green chile pork burrito. Did a little wandering in the shops close by to walk it off a little before heading out. We stopped at the apple orchard place, which we’ve driven by probably 6 times, never when they’re open, and bought ginger peachy butter (which I could gladly eat from the jar with a spoon).

We made it back. Winnie did awesome. And I’ve discovered a handful of things: 1. I want to dabble in metal arts like wind sculptures and chimes, cuz my budget isn’t flexible enough to stretch around $500 worth of perfectly tuned Pacabel chimes nor will it be anytime soon, 2. we’ll have to find ways to road trip despite the recession – it’s therapy I can’t pass up.

3 Jobs

2010-07-02T21:26:00.000-07:00

I’m going to start telling people I work three jobs. Cuz ultimately, I do: my day job, Honey’s photography gigs and assistant, and side work, like I did all weekend. I am a ridiculously busy and tired woman. Somewhere in there I need to find time for me, to eat well and exercise a bit.

I had something of an epiphany last night – I’m in the very unique and enviable position of having a man who loves me for exactly who I am, not the body I live in, not the money I can bring to the table, not contacts, connections, or any of that nonsense; just for me. I could weigh 100lbs or 400lbs; it wouldn’t make a difference. I could go bald, lose a limb, become blind, deaf, or severely disabled, and he’d love me just the same. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how lucky I am, and how I don’t know anyone else who can say that. Honey supports me, whether I want to work out or not, have a career or specialize in doing nothing, play Suzie Housekeeper or keep it to the bare essentials of sex and laundry. As long as I am happy and it doesn’t hurt me, he’s happy. I should be the happiest woman in the world…and I will be more often, as soon as I get my own head out of the way.

We went out with friends the other night, most of them the fit skinny types, and though everyone accepts me just as I am, I start comparing me to them and (of course) coming up short. It’s a neurotic thing I need to squelch ASAP. But having thought about it for two days, I’ve realized several things: 1.) I won’t ever be them – my body isn’t built to be a size 4 no matter what I do, 2.) that’s a good thing, because curves are rare these days, 3.) like Connie and Carla said, “tall, short, skinny, or fat – worship that body! It’s the only one you’ve got.” 4.) and maybe most important, I need to love me no matter how I am, cuz hating myself won’t be solved by changing dress sizes. The other thing I realized is that no matter how great this new HCG stuff sounds (who wouldn’t wanna drop 40lbs in a month?) I don’t want to count calories (500 a day? Seriously??). It’s also right in there with diet pills, fad diets, and surgery – I think that’s cheating. I don’t grudge anyone who has success for however long with them, I just don’t think that’s a permanent solution or requires much effort, and in the case of surgery, it’s very extreme and not bloody fair. I love to eat and don’t believe making food the enemy is a solution for weight problems. All bodies are not the same, yadda yadda, etc, etc. My opinions only, take them as you will. Anyway, at one point I was really excited [about HCG]; now my inner hippie and wanna-be naturalist is stomping her foot, telling me how much better I’ll feel and better the results will be if I do this on my own, just for me, and for the right reasons (i.e. health and energy instead of crushing vanity). My inner me has a point, as she often does when her head is screwed on straight. Another important thing, one that should keep the neurotics down to a minimum, is it’s not a race and it won’t happen overnight. I’ve lived most of my life carrying more weight than I’d have preferred and all of the best stuff, the best stories, and crazy adventures have happened just the same. Happiness will not be found on a bathroom scale for me, so I can just let that one go, don’t you think?

So if I can get all this wonderfulness to stick in my stubborn ass brain for more than a day, I should be fine – no, not fine (remember the Italian Job and the definition of ‘Freaked out Insecure Neurotic Emotional’?) I’ll be alright, relatively normal, less psychotic than usual, even-keeled, and so forth.

I've got work in another 30 minutes, so I think a few minutes of well-deserved 'nothing' is in order. Luvs.

The Bennies?

2010-06-28T22:06:00.000-07:00

Honey mentioned tonight how it might be ok if I lost the gig as sales associate and underpaid grunt at the lamp store. He said I’d have more time to help with photo stuff, read the books and filter out the good bits, and though he didn’t say it, help with side work painting houses like the good ol’ days. I’m not, as far as I know, in imminent danger of losing the job. But, the other guy and I have noticed a certain level of neglect, of the building and equipment that has us concerned. The roof leaks every time it rains, the display on the main printer has been blank and unreadable since I started, and we’re babying everything else – the whole place needs to be rewired (properly), the phones are so ingrained with grime that we can’t clean it off, and in rotation usually at least one A/C unit is down (but more often two). A third of the merchandise they send us is damaged to the point we can’t sell it, so our damage costs are always high. They won’t let us do inventory – long story and stupid. The district manager let it slip when they changed the hours to seven days: we’ve got a year to make more money or they’ll close the shop. So basically, sometime around the end of March next year is D-day.

I haven’t really got a plan for that scenario even though I can see it coming. Based on the numbers I track from the registers everyday – we’re not making it. So I started looking for work, somewhat half heartedly. It’s always easier in my head than reality. I applied for 8 or 10 or 12 spots, some in my field, others not. Haven’t heard a word. We’re being fed a lot of BS about how things are getting better (at the shop especially, right before they give us shit about our sales numbers) but talking to people I know personally, it’s bad out there, maybe more so than it was a year ago. I heard the Hard Rock fired all its upper executives and offered to rehire them at lower salaries. Ouch. At this particular moment, I’m not worrying about it. Days prior I have, and I’m sure at some point later I will again. It’ll do about as much good then as it did before (none). Just do what I can and hope that God’s plan is not for us to be homeless again.

I had one of those completely random thoughts earlier: I miss having the leisure time to sit down with a good book, one I can actually hold in my hands and turn the pages. I have several books in .pdf format, but it’s not the same and my eyes get tired faster. Gonna have to start increasing the font size like a little old lady soon. The peepers are starting to burn now actually. I noticed earlier in the bathroom mirror how bruised I look under my eyes – that means I’m tired and its showing. Time for bed before an early morning. Night all.

Last Long Night - Yea!

2010-06-27T22:27:00.000-07:00

So you may have noticed a subtle change on the blog lately. I decided it was time to inject a little funk. The hippie swirls will be around until I get bored again. Let there be color!

Tonight is long night #3, but thankfully it won’t be as long as the previous two. My bed times have been midnight and 1am followed by work the next day – I am half past slightly retarded, I think. We got out of the later gig and I got out of helping caption, so depending on how long I spend chattering at all you folks…I might actually get some sleep (gasp! What is that??).

I met Honey in the press area of the gig today – I can’t believe I got where I ended up without someone questioning me. I walked right into the room where the news crew was interviewing winners of the Emmy Awards (Chubby Checker and the Spinners walked right by me) and no one said a word, not even the people wearing headsets and carrying clipboards. I asked at least two security guards for directions on the way in and nobody asked for credentials. Honey got grilled for credentials and he was wearing them! (He also got mistaken for security, twice). Here in a minute I’ll go downstairs and get my camera out of the car, and do my best with whatever software is on this computer, to post the pictures of him in his suit. He looked so handsome!

I noticed last night at Mandalay Bay: women who are all dressed up don’t actually see anyone who isn’t. If you’re not wearing heels and a dress they can compare themselves too, their eyes slide right off you. I saw some things last night that made me embarrassed for the person wearing it. I told Honey if I ever get thin enough to wear a dress and heels out, he better not let me make a fool of myself in my excitement.

Alright kids, off to bed!!

Long Night #2

2010-06-27T21:40:00.000-07:00

Tonight I’m sitting in something similar to a college desk in the race and sports book at Mandalay Bay. I can see the Lion King Theater from here. It’s not bad – padded chair, desk for the laptop, close to the restrooms, and with a nice view of the scantily clad booty parading by. Aside from being really early, I’ve got no complaints.

Tomorrow will see Honey decked out in his version of Johnny Cash’s classic attire. I’ll be doing my damnedest to get photographic proof and posting it as soon as possible. (Insert evil grin here).

I was just having a very serious conversation with a girlfriend about her relationship – the serious part being whether or not she should bother continuing with said relationship. I’ve been married longer than most people my age, and to a rather difficult man at that (Honey when you read this, don’t be offended - you know you’re my only brand of madness), so I can give some basic relationship advice, but after that it’s up to her. Indifference is a terrible thing to try to recover from. Also found out I’m missing out on a “girls night bbq” tomorrow night, which reminds me that hanging out with those girls can be very frustrating if I let myself believe any of the touchy-feely stuff means anything. For a girl like me, those are seriously mixed signals. Anyway, live and learn.

I’ve just discovered the downfall to my spot: I’m right inside the sign that says ‘No Smoking Beyond this Point” and a show just let out. Bring on the second hand smoke. 

The camping trip is booked. Trying to make it three days instead of two and a half. I’m super excited and can’t wait. Honey’s been telling me I don’t use my camera enough, so I will be making up for it on this trip.

--there are 7 black guys here all trying to hit on two white women, who claim to know all the lines. It’s rather pathetic. Proof pictures are being taken for something that never happened. Haha!

Oh! Oh! Oh! My money hand is itching!!!! Rub that baby like a genie bottle…come to me, sweet Benjamins…

I’ve been town-bound for too long. It’s starting to show.

Long Night #1

2010-06-26T20:05:00.000-07:00

Back once again at the Palazzo. Still not my favorite place, but upgraded from the bottom of the list, which is now occupied by City Center (last time we were there, my SUV, a limo, and a cabby all tried to share the same space – not fun). Three events in 5 days have turned to six events in three. It’s going to be a very long night.

I rode a bicycle last night for the first time in nearly 12 years. (No, I didn’t crash). I forgot how much fun it is, how freeing it feels. While marveling at how awesome the guy was who invented the contraption, we rode 5 miles. My butt hurts, so sitting on these chairs by the bathroom, and later the slot machines, won’t be too pleasant. Also our plans to ride every night are dashed for the short term future.

Our BBQ was awesome. We had maybe 9 people show up and cooked for 20. It was outrageous until 3am, when everyone suddenly realized they had to work in X number of hours and should probably go home. As always, the coleslaw was a huge hit. I’ve found the mother of all coleslaw recipes, one that has successfully made both Honey and I now hate our once-coveted KFC slaw. Plus people are really impressed that I make my own coleslaw; they feel special. So dazzle your friends at the next potluck with the following recipe:

1 bag coleslaw mix (usually about 10 oz)

1 cup mayonnaise

1/4 cup vinegar (it calls for white wine, but I use whatever I have and it’s fine)

1/4 cup sugar

1 teaspoon celery seeds

Salt and pepper to taste

Whisk everything together and pour over coleslaw mix. Combine, refrigerate, enjoy.

In other random news, I learned and perfected the tying of the Pratt knot on a man’s tie. Should you need similar information, I recommend the following link.

I was reading on Mother Earth News the other day about a good ol’ boy that’s perfected putting tractor engines in full-size pick up trucks to drastically increase gas mileage. I’m sure the manufacturers of said tractor engines never intended their products for that purpose, but logic has it that a tractor weighs as much as a car so… Anyway, the guy believes the gas mileage hasn’t improved on American cars in the last 40 years because the car manufacturers and oil companies pay for the political campaigns of most of our elected officials; and unless the American people stand up together, nothing will change. I watched the video of him driving a Ford F-150 onto the highway and back – it sounded like an angry beast that needed to eat something, but it worked. He’ll sell you the plans with color photos for $50 bucks. See him here.

Of course, my first thought was “I want one”. A way to keep my big SUV and get nearly triple the mileage? Hell yeah! Unfortunately it may be easier to have a diesel engine put in and find that book on making my own moonshine, which is basically ethanol without the added gasoline (they did that so people wouldn’t drink it). Neither option is in my budget at present.

I’m with a lot of people: the budget can’t get much tighter. I know several folks who don’t have jobs, are out of unemployment money, and very soon will be out of options. I suddenly feel very fortunate for my $10/hr job. But what do we do? I was really waiting for the massive roads project to put thousands of people to work across the country, similar to how FDR did with the Hoover Dam, and drag us all up by our boot straps. Hasn’t happened. I don’t have the answers. I know that everyone is unhappy with what’s been done, unless they happened to work for the banks and car companies that got bailed out. I thought it would be just as well to let them collapse under the responsibility of their own mistakes. Change, more often than not, has to be violent. I just know it can’t stay the way it is nor go back to the way it was. If we can get past the greed, we might have a chance.

I’m listening to the people around me…grown ass women all dressed up with their friends reverting to their childhood, squealing and blowing whistles in public. Other women wearing clothes that I wouldn’t leave my bedroom in, and all of them gibbering about some drama amongst their friends, that when viewed against the bigger picture, doesn’t mean a damn thing. Between this and working retail for the last year, I’ve discovered that I hate people. The majority haven’t got a clue about anything outside themselves and their little bubble. The destruction that’s inevitably coming is well deserved. Statistically speaking, smaller groups of people, like tribes, don’t have the greed and problems that plague larger society. So in a nutshell, there are just too damn many of us, and we all want. You do the math.

Finally Made it to Print

2010-06-22T23:23:00.001-07:00

This is my fourth attempt at this post – and it’ll stay an attempt until I get it posted – but I’m hoping to dash home and get it up before passing out. It’s currently 9:23pm, I’m sitting in front of a pay phone right outside the ladies room at the Palazzo (reference: shock-creted hell and the only garage I’ve been kicked out of to date). I didn’t get kicked out again, it’s just too empty down in the basement so I figured air conditioning beat arguing with the minions in yellow. And it also beats sitting alone like an abandoned child on an under-stuffed, non-ergo couch in front of a storefront featuring pink bulldogs and overpriced men’s wear. Instead, I’m sitting under my own personal spotlight (kinda like an interrogation room) on a bar chair too talk for my short legs, staring at the continuous scrolling of this pay phone, telling me to “please lift receiver” and asking if I’m “calling collect?” I probably look rather strange to anyone paying enough attention to notice me – after all I’m staring into the smallest cubicle known to man.

Anyway, my first and second attempts at a post were left unfinished while stealth camping in the cargo area of my SUV. I decided if I had to be anywhere besides bed at midnight two nights in a row, I was going to do my best to sleep. Didn’t work out too well, unfortunately. It’s too hot still. The first night I had just a sleeping bag for cushion and got rather sweaty. The second night I took the couch cushions and it worked better. Both times, right about as I was dozing off, Honey would call and say he was done. It just takes too long to settle down to sleep after jamming down the freeway trying to make sure Honey isn’t late. And it’s a little weird every time someone walks by the car, oblivious to my presence…I feel a bit like a stalker.

I forgot my next thought…

Oh yeah, we’re doing our damnedest to go fishing next month. It doesn’t matter that the sensible thing to do would be save the money (who wants to be sensible after all, when the alternative is a day on a boat in the glorious sunshine?) I’ll be sensible another day. I need to get out of town or I’ll go stir crazy. We haven’t gone anywhere since they took the boat away, which was further back than I care to remember at the moment. We are overdue for a little time to mentally say “fuck absolutely everything” and take a breather from the drama that is inevitably life, as much as we try to prevent it.

As a side note: this mother just slapped the crap out of her whiny little kid for hitting her. It was awesome. Unfortunately, now she’s running around the reception area. An ass kicking is coming…

*sigh* there is a reason I will never have children. It’s probably child abuse.

Anyway, I made laundry soap successfully (finally) with a recipe I found in the comments section of Mother Earth News. I’ve been talking about it for a month or so though I haven’t posted to mention it to anyone. I opted for the dry powdered version, since most recipes are basically the same with varying amounts of water. Instead of 10 gallons of liquid, I made 1 gallon of dry, which will probably last a year or so in our house of three. I spent $15 bucks and won’t need to buy soap or worry about plastic container pollution or my skin freaking out until this time next year.  I am one happy hippie.

Soap Recipe:

1 bar Fels Naptha soap, grated

1 cup borax

1 cup baking soda

1 cup washing soda (not the same thing)

1 cup oxygen cleaner (think OxyClean, but I bought the generic for half price)

Put all ingredients into a food processor and run until a fine powder. Use 2 tablespoons per load. Everything but the baking soda is available in your grocery store laundry aisle. I went to Smiths. Three bars of soap and one container each of the other stuff will make three batches with ingredients to spare. I now have a gallon paint can on my shelf and my laundry room smells like the naptha. My clothes smell like clean water instead of perfume. Eventually I’ll be experimenting with bars of body soap and I understand it makes a lot, so anyone who loves the smell of lime like I do might get soap for Christmas.

Looks like the red carpet finally started. I see flash bulbs. We have three more here in the next 5 days. I found the other entrance to the parking garage which shoots you straight into the basement, avoids the Strip, and is a lot less crowded. Also found an elevator right by this night club where all the carpets are held. It’s still my least-favorite venue, but at least it’s bearable now.

Thought Found!

2010-06-12T17:50:00.000-07:00

I remembered that thought I had...it was that I should introduce the three people who read this to Mother Earth News (see hyperlink to your right). I menitoned once that I was part hillbilly, part hippie - this is definitely my kind of site! Check it out if you have a few minutes. There's a couple recipes for DIY laundry soap (I will be experimenting soon), tales of homesteading do's and don't's, and an excerpt from a book that I'm still trying to find in person that has a recipe for moonshine (yes I'm aware it's illegal - do you see the devilish glint in my eye coupled with the mischievious grin?).

I'll also mention the new TV show called Dual Survival. Cody Lundin (pronounced "lun - dean") is the hippie, no-shoe-wearing, naturalist with hair longer than mine. I like him. :) You can check him out here.

Good Thoughts Gone Missing

2010-06-12T17:40:00.000-07:00

I’ve had several good thoughts since my last post, but finding the time and energy to articulate them…hasn’t worked out so well. Frankly, I could use a nap right now.

One of them involved a statistic quoted on the radio about how different men and women respond if their spouse works more than 60 hrs a week. Men won’t change a thing; women will quit their jobs to help pick up the slack of keeping kids and home. I explained to Honey that I wasn’t surprised and that we [women] went about it all wrong back in the day when we said we wanted to go to work. Our jobs at the time were to keep the house and have dinner on the table by 6pm. The guys took it as we wanted another job, so now we’re expected to do both. The men who’ll trade for housework when their wife is a power woman are few and far between.

There was another one but it escapes me just now. I feel slightly retarded. More when my head is hopefully more together.

F$#@ing Gnomes!

2010-06-04T21:30:00.000-07:00

It's the continuous bane of my life...my stuff keeps going missing. I swear we have gnomes. I also swear that when we moved to this house nearly 3 months ago, the gnomes had a family reunion and most of them stayed. More stuff is going missing than ususal. It's not just the occassional stray sock or traveling hair brush, now it's important paperwork, all my measing cups and spoons, a fairly large bag of flour, and now my exercise band. I'm not just saying that to get out of exercising either. I'm just bloody frustrated that I'm limited on changing up my workouts due to still weak joints and a less-than-fully stocked 'gym', aka our office. Bad knees don't like an hour routine of jumping, if you follow me.

Tomorrow is the beginning of another week following a too-short weekend. Story of my life.

Short Update

2010-06-01T22:22:00.000-07:00

I'm allergic to something, probably the Woolite laundry soap I'm using. I'm randomly breaking out in these...lesions for lack of a better term. They're somewhere between a zit and a bug bite; they're mad as hell, tend to appear in inconvenient places like waistbands and bra lines, and go away in their own sweet time regardless of what I do or don't do. I guess the irony is I'm realizing this while the washer is running with next week's work clothes. I think I'm just gonna make my own laundry soap. There are a couple of good recipes online, one each for dry and wet. All I need now is to find someone who'll loan me a food processor....anyone??
Off to bed. It's late (for me, having been up at 6am, albeit breifly), and as much as I'd love to stay and chat, I'm too tired to be at all eloquent. :) Night.

No Big Picture

2010-05-30T21:29:00.000-07:00

I’m stashed next to one of the cages, as far from the MGM Grand as you can get and still be in their parking lot. It’s mayhem. Fight night is the worst time to come down here, ever, but with two carpets to work tonight, here we are. I’ve seen the same security guard twice; he hasn’t seen me. And I’m about spitting distance from the exit, so around 2am when we leave, it should be a breeze.

Honey saved me one of those Dove wrappers with a cute saying on it that pretty much sums up my life. It says “it’s okay to live without a ‘big picture’ in mind”. And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the simplest explanation for my crazy life. I haven’t really got an over all plan. I’ve mentioned before how well planning works for me. Planning might be considered overrated if it weren’t so wrapped up with dreaming. I want many things while I’m here, but I wouldn’t consider any of it part of a cohesive plan – my stuff is all too random and contradictory.

***Minion in fluorescent just rode by on a bike two cars over from me. Holding breath and cursing softly…so far so good. With this many people, this place is crawling.

I wish I could sleep, but these seats don’t recline far enough. I tried the backseat one time, since the tint is darker back there, but it was awful. Nothing worse than waking up sore and cranky, more tired than when you started. With two carpets in a row and these diva UFC fighters taking an hour stroll through, I could easily be here until 2am. It’s gonna be a long night. This would go so much faster if I could surf the web…

Pre-Fight Night

2010-05-29T19:20:00.000-07:00

I just walked thru the MGM Grand, amongst all the plastic, mini dresses, and stiletto heels, to deliver Honey’s forgotten phone wearing no bra, pajamas, and Honey’s spare tennis shoes. Am I a rock star or what? I have got to start wearing clothes to these things! Random inconvenient shit keeps happening.

My mind has been on a rollercoaster the last few days. I’ve decided I want a camel; you know, to ride around the neighborhood the way most people do horses. Her name will be Jezebel. I read an article on building a self-sufficient homestead; the house had walls 12” thick made from clay and straw, was in the middle of Amish country, and had no electricity (well, solar panels - and I'm not the Summer referenced). It all sounds awesome and a bit hokey/extreme…unless you watched the movie The Road recently and can definitely see the bennies of being in the middle of nowhere and not needing anyone (think cannibalism). People can be freaking scary.

I met a guy who used HCG for weight loss – like 40 lbs in a month weight loss – and as awesome as that sounds (you know me, the one who wants everything right now), I more than likely can’t afford it. If you get the doctor’s personal cell phone number to call anytime, assume you’ll be paying thru the nose for it. I’ll just have to settle for my P90x and getting my eating habits together.

Oh, and I knocked a giant bottle of Red Hot out of the pantry today, nearly on my foot, and though I’ve cleaned up, vacuumed, and mopped the entire downstairs, there are still glass fragments as far away as the backdoor. If you see glittery little diamonds anywhere, don’t step on them.

And we shot a custom Merc today for the next cover of Sunday Slacker. Since I can’t show the pictures as of yet, just trust me that it is an over the top work of art and very beautiful.

*sigh* I’m tired. It’s hot. I have to work tomorrow and straight thru the Memorial weekend. Penalties of retail I guess – we get to be closed 3 days out of the whole year – because I am absolutely sure that instead of barbequing and having fun with your friends, who are all off on Monday, you’d rather dash out and buy a lamp from me. I predict crickets singing the whole day. Or, they may in fact be barbequing with their friends too…I may bring my book of DVD’s to the shop that day.

Me and Death

2010-05-27T11:08:00.000-07:00

What would you regret if you died tomorrow?

It was after 11pm when I was asked that question. Tomorrow was so close. My heart spoke up in a voice clear enough to cut through all other bullshit, like a giant bell silencing all other sound and forcing itself on your senses. Tears began to well. Surprisingly there was no concern for my life's accomplishments or lack there of; what I'd done or hadn't done didn't matter. That from a worldy perspective my life thus far has been an utter waste, mediocre at best...none of it mattered. What surfaced was a sadness. Life is a beautiful gift and I've spent mine being the worst enemy to myself that I've ever seen. My attitude is self-defeating, negative in the extreme, and constantly pouring bitterness in my ear - but it's only about me and only towards me. I'm hell-bent on defeating my own happiness, which is more sad than I can express in words. And the thought of having to asnwer to someone (or thing) about it...to be asked directly with no means of escape "why would you destroy your birth right of happiness? Why would you fight your natural state and by choice be miserable your whole existance?" Not only do I not have an asnwer of any kind that would suffice (because there is none), I feel like a sorry excuse and a failure. I feel stupid.

The advise I was given, with the preface of it being for someone 'like me', was to get comfortable with death. Because then I would understand just how short life really is and wouldn't waste another second on self-pity or anything else. I picture myself in a little coffee shop, similar to the Java Jungle in Reno, sharing a table in the corner with Death and us getting to know each other. It's not my time yet, but we're sharing our perspectives like college intellectuals, sipping coffee, and watching the people dash about their busy lives. I imagine us becoming friends, an understanding being established, so that when my time does come it'll be a reunion with an old friend I haven't seen in a long time. A joyous occasion.

That's how I plan to get past my many issues with me and learn to live the life I was meant to.

Possum Living

2010-05-23T20:21:00.000-07:00

When I left for this gig I had keys in one hand and a bra in the other. I only put on pants cuz this is the only garage I’ve ever been kicked out of, and I was lucky enough that time to be wearing clothes – I’d hate to have a repeat in my pajamas.

Right before we left I was reading a book excerpt – I wish I had it for reference cuz I’m not sure I’ve got the title right – it was called Possum Living, How to Live Well Without a Job and (Almost) No Money. Honey was not surprised when I exclaimed “I want this book!” Anyone who knows me wouldn’t be surprised either: I’m part hippie, part hillbilly. And ironically, it ties right into the discussion we were having earlier about how some people need stuff and some people don’t. Mom needs stuff. She has almost an OCD need for stuff, even if she already has one (or two) of whatever it is and it will live in the darkness of some closet or cupboard. I don’t need stuff. I so don’t need stuff that I’m working on having even less of it. Possibly because I was raised poor, though I didn’t know it, and the only sets in our house were Mom’s china and their bedroom set, which I think they bought when they got married. Everything we had was mismatched and a yard sale find or hand-me-down. Not to mention I lost a storage unit once with everything I loved (I still cry about my blender), and now it’s all seen as material luggage. Can you imagine my delight in an instructional manual for living without a job and hardly any cash? It also might have something to do with the mention of skinning rabbits and homemade moonshine. Don’t make that face! Rabbits is good eating.

Uh oh. I see a flashing yellow light. The minions are close. I wish the backseats would recline so I could hide where the tint is darker. Even though I found a space on the main floor (never happened before) it’s busy in here tonight. The sign said levels 2 and 4 were full. Fingers crossed everybody.

Among my obsession with Avatar, my fascination with Farm Girl, my enthusiasm for A Year in a Car, and now possum living…there may be home grown potatoes and overalls in my future. Nothing appeals to me more than simplifying my life down to the bare essentials. I want to live well – and I realize for many that statement and the one before are mutually exclusive. Maybe I should say I want to live cheap and therefore well. I want a home of my own, but not a big expensive sinkhole of a house. I want to travel, but not first class, not even economy class. I want my ideals in life, not necessarily all the luxuries in between. Possum Living made reference to Diogenes, who famously gave away all his possessions, lived in a wine barrel, and ran in the same circles as the highest of society. The paradox is fascinating, don’t you think? Have nothing and have the rich and worldly jockeying for position next to you. I would like to be the champion not only of “have not” but also “want not”. Don’t get me wrong – yesterday’s post with all the fire of wanting my own business and taking over the world didn’t suddenly vanish. I like the choice of working for myself or not at all; it appeals to my teenage inner-rebel screaming “fuck the system!” Not only that, but a certain part of me hopes we screw ourselves back to the Stone Age. Ok, maybe not that far. I don’t wanna say “oog” and be dragged around by my hair. I’m not sure how to express what would be a happy balance –

…About here is when Honey got done, I got distracted, and we went to the bar to see some friends before they spend 3 weeks in Hawaii. Very glad I brought the bra…

Recovery is Slow

2010-05-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

It’s been a rough couple of weeks… Honey threw his back out pretty bad – he called me from the patio floor, half laughing half crying, saying he couldn’t get up. He lived on the living room floor for nearly a week and has been slowing progressing back to health via crutches, his dad’s old cane, lots of pain meds, stretching, and liberal sessions with my chiropractor’s tens unit. Needless to say, that whole ordeal was pretty stressful for me. And of course, with all the wind we’ve been having my allergies got outta hand and became a head cold that I’ve been fighting for the last two weeks. Note: no days off and basically no rest, especially while my hubby couldn’t move. I think my nose has scabs in it. So this is the first sign of energy and opportunity I’ve had to blog. And once again, I’m stealth parking in a hotel garage.

Earlier today was a trial of my good manners and patience because it took 5 hours to purchase my new laptop, which I am not currently typing on because it doesn’t have a word processor yet. Mom bought my old desktop so the new one, which is exactly the same as this one, only cost me $150. Can you see me smiling? Nothing better than getting a steal of a deal and streamlining efficiency – for those that don’t know, my old desktop has been having some issues: there’s speculation that it was inherently male when I bought it and inadvertently got a female replacement hard drive, which I’m sure everyone can understand, must be very confusing. My new one, named Monkey, is fast as lighting and sporting Windows 7, which thankfully isn’t quite as annoying as Windows Vista (don’t even get me started!).

That’s really the only big news. I’ve realized that my life isn’t that exciting, on the outside anyway; inside my head is a circus/nightmare/fairy tale/laboratory of sorts. Come to think of it, I should blog about some of the crazy dreams I have….this girl does not need acid, that’s for sure.

Just as a side note, I love to watch people wandering about looking for their cars. Two older ladies in ridiculously tight clothing were over by me and found their car two rows over in a corner. And just now this European guy was looking in the window of the Jeep in front of me and checking the license plate – I say European because no one else wears plaid shorts, the shirt collars turned up like Elvis, and sports bleached spiky hair all at once, or it’s more likely I know jack squat about fashion, he’s fabulous and I look like a bum. As you like it. I just try to not make any sudden movements – the last thing I need is someone getting startled and screaming bloody murder for security.

OH! Life isn’t quite as boring, and how could I forget already? I went to the Hospitality Design Expo yesterday with my crazy Canadian friend. LOVED IT! I now remember why I owe the government so much money, everything I love about design, and my plans to take over the world one décor at a time. Honey said my text messages had fire in them. Needless to say, my brain is now swirling with all sorts of plans on establishing my brand, settling on a name, marketing…and to be honest, I’m really hoping God is listening when I beg for certain ventures to pan out and launch me, catapult style, into the design world on my terms. And as corny as it may sound to anyone who’s not superstitious or what have you, I’m going to use the possibility of the world ending in 2012 as an excuse to do some very crazy, risky, and otherwise nonsensical things. If it goes right, Ill be basking in the success and my own prowess as a designer; if it does wrong, I’ll probably be picking up the pieces and have to settle, at least temporarily, with the comfort that I gave it everything I had. Really the only thing more tragic than failure is never trying at all….which is where I’m currently sitting. Reality check and ouch, already did it.

Hopefully I can get back to my ass-kicking yoga and other P20x adventures in the following days. I’m starting to feel human again, at least as human as I get. We watched Avatar again and it still makes my chest ache. I want to be 10ft tall and blue so bad it hurts!

They're all blending together...

2010-05-09T00:14:00.000-07:00

I am exhausted. We both are. My eyes are burning, my head hurts, and I’m more than ready to be outta these clothes and shoes. It’s nearly 10:30pm; I’m camped in the garage at Caesar’s Palace. Unfortunately this whole place is lit up like an emergency room; don’t know how stealthy I can be under banks of fluorescents, but on the positive side I’m right by the elevators. Fingers crossed. The car next to me has giant cookies in its door pocket…they look like peanut butter…might be work breaking in…

The lead girl from the Pussycat Dolls is here tonight. She’s supposed to walk the carpet at 11:30pm – does that give you an idea of when I might get to bed? – and then perform at the nightclub. We got to go see the band Train in the same place and I thought it was an awful venue. Just because you have a stage doesn’t mean you should hold a concert. It’s standing room only and if you’re short (hello, down here!) you can’t see hardly anything. I had trouble with the strobe lights (migraine instantly), and had to go out and all the way around to the lady’s room because the one inside the club is right next to the stage and good freakin’ luck getting through the crowd. That’s where my poor Honey has to go (to the stage, not the bathroom). He’s beat too. He was up until 3am this morning captioning all the stuff from yesterday, then he went to work with me to bbq, which was excellent. Straight from work we went to the baby photo shoot (finally found all the backdrops – folded nicely in a fan box at the front of the garage). There’s been no rest for the wicked or anyone else. I suppose it’s better to be worked to death than not work at all.

I’m limping more today. Ask me to do anything besides walk around slowly, like get in or out of a car, sit in a chair or get up, etc and there will be a lot of wincing and groaning. I’m probably doing P20x right now and that’s the best I can do. Tomorrow we go again.

If anyone can help, check out this link for Nashville…

Friday 3 events

2010-05-07T21:26:00.000-07:00

It’s become apparent that my usual plan of sneaking in the car during red carpet events will soon have to come to an end. No, the minions in yellow haven’t found me again, not yet anyway. It’s just bloody hot in this garage though I’m in the shade. Pretty soon temp’s are gonna climb into the 90’s and 100’s and then me and the equipment will melt. I may have to go in soon today anyway. I’ve seen two minions in yellow already (why always on bicycles?) and there are enough people walking around I’ll probably get noticed soon. This is the first of three events today – good thing I didn’t have anything going, huh.

So I managed to get up early this morning and work out before all the madness started – ya’ll should’ve seen the mad dash we just did: waiting for Mom to get outta the doctor’s office while check-in time ticked ever closer, dashing home to get gear (cuz someone didn’t listen to me earlier when I said we should get it now) and finding a flooded toilet (why do they do that at complete random?) and dashing out again. I got him here within 5 minutes of check in, so we’re good. This garage is damn near full though; I got lucky when a guy left.

Speaking of my work outs…I’m way more outta shape than I thought. Granted I’m doing P90x, which is some seriously hard core stuff, but I can only do like 5-8 reps, I’m drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and my face turns all red. Right now I’m doing 30 minutes of the usually hour-long workouts. It’s a start. I don’t wanna get all gung-ho and hurt myself. You should hear my bones popping! I’m putting Rice Crispies to shame. Still I persevere. My legs and butt are protesting loudly, I’m limping cuz the muscles are so tight, but on the plus side, I’ve been charging thru the day and I woke Honey by demanding sex as my reward for not being a lazy slacker. Guys dig it when you initiate. ;)

Screw this, I’m going in. It’s hot.

Later…

We’re onto event 3. I’m running outta gas. It’s now 7:30pm and I’m enjoying a rather nice view of the south end of the Strip and the planes leaving the airport. I’ve opted not to join the madness inside – apparently New Kids on the Block still have a large following. This is the first time I’ve ever had to park on the 3rd floor of this garage (same venue, but other garage this time. I’ve never seen minions in this one). I’m parked next to a lovely classic Cadillac with white wall tires. Hoping Honey won’t have to stay for the whole thing. First Friday is tonight, we still need to find the damn backdrops for tomorrow’s shoot, and go to the grocery store cuz Honey’s going to work with me tomorrow and grilling out back to celebrate the final departure of that useless worm, the temp. It’s a trade-off though; we get the new guy while the manager is off. The new guy, Bill, is an electrician – which makes me feel a bit better about me and all my expensive education hanging out at the lamp store. At least I’m not alone. :)

There won’t be any work out tomorrow cuz I just can’t find a time to fit it in. I work all day, then dash with Honey to a baby photo shoot, then a red carpet at 11pm. I’m not sure I’m woman enough to get up early for it. Security might find me snoring softly in the front seat come tomorrow night if I do…now that I’m thinking about it though that might be good, the getting up early part, cuz then I don’t screw the rotation and I get Sunday off of working out and to sleep in cuz the shop opens late. Hmmm…something to consider. Right now I’m considering a nap.

For Real :)

2010-05-06T20:41:00.000-07:00

After I wrote the ‘5 days’ post I sat there feeling helpless/disgusted/pissed off for another 5 minutes. Then I got up (off my dead ass), got the P90x DVD’s outta the closet and did 30 minutes of “xtreme yoga”. And they weren’t kidding either. Anyone who laughs at, pokes fun at, generally makes jokes about or says yoga is for pussies – ain’t never done yoga. I’ve done two days in a row now (go me!) and feel like I’ve been beaten all over with a stick (probably by some Japanese Zen master who knows what he’s doing). I feel like hell but feel better about me, if you follow.

So the ‘Get Moving’ campaign is officially started. There’s going to be some juggling – for example Saturday is gonna be a complete loss, with work followed by two photo shoots ending sometime around midnight (that’s now my Saturday nights folks). The schedule is supposed to be 3 days on, one off, 2 on, one off. I’m starting with the two days first because right now I can’t really move. I took today off and tomorrow morning I go at it again. So anyone who was waiting for me to lead by example – I’m doing it. Now it’s your turn.

I’m off to a hot bath, which I may regret.

5 days

2010-05-04T20:53:00.000-07:00

I should be happy. Happy should be my natural state, despite all the dramas, crisis, and other madness that happens, but right now I'm not. I've realized that 5 days have passed since I resolved to get moving and take charge (if not control) of my life. Why is it that once I decide things, big life-changing things, we suddenly get really busy? I'm staying up too late, getting up just in time to be dashing madly from one place to another, trying not to forget anything important...and not having time to do what I need to do. It's frustrating...more so because I'm exhausted. I guess the solution is learning to live on less: less sleep, less food, less stuff to do. That last one sounds lucacris even to me.
*sigh*

Post Red Carpet Notes

2010-05-03T21:41:00.001-07:00

Just as an FYI, no one walked the red carpet Saturday night. The place was mobbed after the fight, a fight broke out, security lost control, the crowd stormed the club. Word was at least three people got tazed. So P. Diddy and Eva Longoria bypassed the red carpet altogether - which meant three hours of standing around for nothing for my poor Honey. :( Off to bed for me.

Fight Night

2010-05-03T21:39:00.000-07:00

This is last Saturday's post. Life happened between now and then. Here it is finally...

It’s been one of those weird days. Bad things have happened to good people. Not bad things have happened to bad (or at least severely annoying) people, for which I’m truly disappointed. I started out going thru the motions – earlier when I was thinking about this post I was going to say “desperately trying to wake up” but I wasn’t really. I rather prefer going thru the motions on autopilot as opposed to the harshness of desperately trying to wake up. That makes it sounds like I need all my faculties for something important, which considering my current job and the mental capacity of the temp, I don’t. Nothing bad against my job – it’s a job I’m happy to have and happier still it’s not a stressful one, but nobody appreciates needless drama. Besides, at the time I was prepping for a very trying day, one that started at 8am and wouldn’t end until 1am. Things have changed a little since then. The baby photo shoot got postponed a week – anyone who’s ever moved knows weird shit happens…we’ve managed to misplace most of the backdrops and the ones we can find smell heavily like gasoline. (WTF??). We, in our professionalism, didn’t think that would be appropriate for a 3 month old.

So instead of the mad dash, I got to go home, eat dinner (sitting at a table no less), chat with my hubby about the crazy nonsense the temp kid jibbered about, have a little private time, and read two chapters of my current book before heading out into post-fight mayhem. And yes, I’m pretty sure ‘jibbered’ is a word, even though my spell check is freaking out. It’s usually reserved for ghouls if my vocabulary serves me (it might be off today, you never know). Carrying on. I learned my lesson from the garage trolls last night. I’m wearing real clothes, parked in the middle of a row with other cars, away from the lights (so it’s bloody dark in here and I’m doing this by feel), and with the windows barely cracked open in the hopes of not attracting attention. I even dimmed the monitor. Fingers crossed.

So the temp kid poses this hypothetical scenario: what would you do if you knew the world was gonna end today?

I said I’d get the hell outta the shop and go home. He says obviously, that’s a given. I’m not sure if he’s smart enough to insult me, but he’s been dropping little digs like this all day and it’s brought my hackles up another inch. So I say, “ Well how long do we have? Two hours or twelve?” He says ok, midnight tonight the world is gonna end. Then he drops this fabulous one-liner: would you go steal stuff from the mall? My co-worker and I are slightly stumped and ask why (since logically you’d only have it for 6 hours anyway, what’s the point?). He’s talking about robbing a bank, getting all this money and stuff. Said he’d have his Bentley for a minute. – I’m beginning to notice a materialistic pattern here. I say I’d get in the car and just drive. He makes this condescending face at me, and says “what’s the point of that?” I ask “what’s the point of having money if in five minutes we all go up in flames?” Then he says the aliens are coming to abduct us all.

- picture me with an are-you-freaking-retarded look on my face.

Then he starts talking about that movie Will Smith did called I am Legend and saying things like ‘what if I’m the last man on Earth’ (when in point of fact, Will wasn’t the last man on Earth in the film) and ‘I could rob a bank’. (Again with this senseless greed…). I stumped him when I asked who he’d pay with all his money if he were the only one here.

God, we sound like twelve-year-olds bickering, don’t we? Gag.

Anyway, I was telling Honey about it later and before I said what I’d do, he says “ I’d get in the car and just drive”. Remember that line from Shrek about “our minds are already becoming one”? Yeah, we’re there.

So this is the bad part, and I’ll condense. Do you know someone who was more than likely intentionally given genital herpes? I do. And I don’t know how to comfort someone in that position. That’s serious life-altering shit. That’s a crappy conversation that will probably ruin most chances at getting laid. What can I possibly say that might make that remotely better? If you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears. By the way, I’m told that in the US, 40% of sexually active people have herpes. Just FYI.

Booted from my Roost

2010-05-01T09:04:00.000-07:00

I was about to start this post when security decided to kick me out of the parking garage. Not only is under the Palazzo shock-creted hell, it has minions wearing yellow. Thank God I’m not wearing my pajamas and slippers tonight; I’m extremely underdressed nonetheless. So now I’m camped on a bench on the retail level in front of two legless mannequins, one of whom is holding the leash of a rather grumpy looking, entirely pink bulldog. They have no faces, but they’re staring at me anyway. They’re dressed better than I am too.

I did a self-acceptance move this weekend (my weekend now being Thursday/Friday, pay attention) – I went to the thrift store and bought pants that actually fit the current size of my ass. A number of people would consider that consent, or at the bare minimum, giving in. But let’s be frank: I don’t want to spend every weekend uncomfortable or join the Sausage People. I’m a grown woman and can admit my dress size gracefully. I’d rather hate myself for succumbing to size 20 and look decent for my size than pretend to still be a 16 and look desperately squeezed and constipated. It’s a trade off I can live with.

There’s elevator music. Why are pink ties so popular all of a sudden? I’m looking at a whole storefront of colors no reasonable straight man would wear. Those legs on 4” heels that just strutted by weren’t bad either. Damn. Not only do I dream about legs like that, now I have to dream about strutting with them in stilettos. I think 4”s is becoming the new norm. I read an article recently claiming that economic hardships bring about the creation of taller high heels for women. We wore flats up until the Great Depression, which spurned the 2-3” babies I wore to prom; now we’re in the “Great Recession” or whatever they’re calling it these days, and 4-5” are pretty common. You know how tall I would be in 4” heels? Nearly 6 foot. And probably limping like a lame duck. Very sexy. Besides, I think it looks funny for a tall man to be dwarfed by his Amazonian lady friend, who eventually will be waddling like a penguin because her $400 heels are killing her.

Very sexy indeed.

Well, I’m ready to go. I’m yawning, plan to get up early tomorrow and get moving, plus I’m facing a ridiculously long day: work, baby photo shoot back to back with red carpet shoot. I might see my bed sometime around 12:30am Sunday. I picked a helluva week to get my life together.

The mini dress is back with a vengeance. What do you think the symbolism is behind a huge tattoo of a blue buffalo head on a woman’s arm? If you come up with anything good, lemme know. I’m stumped.

Thought for a second I was gonna get WiFi in here, but alas, the stingy bastards have security on everything and what I can link to doesn’t have enough juice to let me online. There’s a lot of shrieking coming from somewhere…? I guess I post after we get home. It’s been 20 minutes; this thing should be over by now. Wonder what’s taking so long. I’ll bet the handful of change in my purse that if I lay down on this lovely bench to catch a cat nap, the goons in yellow will be immediately alerted. Better not chance getting thrown out of the hotel and the garage on the same night.

Move

2010-04-29T21:53:00.000-07:00

It was my friend’s birthday yesterday. The one I’m so critical of (in private) for being lost. And it occurred to me…I’m pretty damn lost too.

Not for the first time, I ask myself what happened to me.

I used to have such fire for life. Futile and often misguided fire, but loads of fire nonetheless. I was opinionated, head strong, knew exactly what I wanted in life. So what happened? I’m a different person now and not one I’m particularly proud of. Compare the me of now to the me of 16 or 20 – it’s like we’re not even related. The things I wanted have all changed: career (or wanting one at all), my ideas about relationships and marriage, from wanting a big house to craving the nomadic lifestyle… I’m starting to doubt if I even know what I want – there’s one thing I’ve “wanted” for 15 years and haven’t achieved yet or put much effort towards, so logically maybe I really don’t want it. ???

I feel like I’m not my own person, more like an assimilated version, a watered down version of the me I could be. It’s no one’s fault but mine. Too many trips down the path of least resistance, letting myself slide, not being honest with me when I needed it (always). I’m frustrated, chaffing in the part I’m playing, wondering why the hell I don’t do something about this mess. Aren’t I always saying if you’re not gonna do something about it, stop bitching? Of course I am. I have no sympathy for anyone who won’t help themselves. Don’t worry; I have no sympathy for me either. This new policy I have about always being brutally honest with myself isn’t a sunny walk in the park. Its humble pie served in huge slices, no whipped cream.

Starting right now, I’m gonna stop talking about all the amazing stuff I’m gonna do, and just start doing. If I don’t move, this will be the rest of my life…and that would be tragic. I’m more, so much more than I’m putting out there. I’m so fucking lazy it’s pathetic. I’m just hanging out being miserable and envying people who have what I want, not doing anything about it and wondering why nothing ever changes. Short answer: because I’m the same. Sucks, but true. It really is all about what’s wrong with me. I’m slacking my way thru my life and now that I can face and admit it – it’s not acceptable.

Get moving…

Thursday

2010-04-29T18:01:00.000-07:00

I feel a bit like I’ve been beaten – too many days of staying up too late for mischief and getting up too early for work. The chiropractor says my knee is twisted (it clicks/grinds whenever I sit, which is usually most noticeable first thing in the morning when I have to pee); his tweaking on it didn’t fix it, not yet anyway. I’m exploring alternatives to steroid-based allergy meds. Right now that means my nose is rapidly getting raw due to me blowing out all the crap the Netti pot loosened up. Fun fun.
Neither the weather nor the gear is cooperating. Parts are on 3-week back order and the wind is strong enough to tear giant holes in the driving range nets. Two hundred foot poles are swaying in the wind like saplings. I wonder if one of them fell, would it crush this house?

We went to watch the movie Date Night after a day of running back and forth across town for errands. It was really funny, though I have to say it’s based on the fears of many married couples: being together so long that you become really good roommates. Things are fine and boring. Scary.

And I'm still waiting for the headline: Purse-toted chihuahua mauls owner's face off.

Balancing Act

2010-04-25T09:32:00.001-07:00

Earlier today I was standing on the top of a 16 foot ladder; in one hand I had a scraper hose-clamped to an old broom handle, in the other a Vulcan death grip on the nearest rung. It snowed dry paint flakes into my hair, down my shirt, all over Honey at the bottom, and made a professional-grade mess. It got expertly messy once the pressure washer was employed. And just think I could have spent a snail day at the shop.

I have a new challenge. This one is for me… and anyone else like me, but not everyone. I am notorious for having what my hubby calls no ‘middle ground’ – a world of extremes, all or nothing, miserable or ecstasy. My dad called them mood swings like nothing he’d ever seen before (which is funny cuz I got it from him). It tends to make me very literal and hell to argue with. It also can make me hell to be with.

So my challenge is to find balance.

If you’ve read my previous post about challenging yourself (and did something about it) you may know the predicament I’m in. I decided to tackle all my flaws at once. My list varied between eight and ten things I wanted to improve; the problem was I didn’t really know where to start or even how to go about fixing it all, especially something as elusive as being angry, which I am way more than is good for me. Since I’m a focus-on-one-thing-at-a-time kind of girl when it comes to life-altering stuff, you can see how I wasn’t getting very far. Knowing what I know about me, we came up with a plan to achieve what I want by playing to my strengths (maybe more correctly, strength): focus on one thing with everything I’ve got – and put that focus towards the pursuit of balance.

I can be peeved without blowing up or happy without letting a little hiccup ruin it. I can stop being defensive every time someone questions me, and remember my very good line about not being a doormat. Evening the keel will help in all the areas I agonized over for a week. Ultimately I’ll be calmer, happier, mentally healthier, and more flexible about life’s insanity. The more level I am the better everything will be around me: my marriage, my work environment, myself in an empty room. (Try being with yourself in an empty room – it might drive you crazy).
(I hate to quote a line from a show I won’t admit I watch because it’s full of real people I despise, but I will anyway because it’s so fitting…) And so it is.

Cracked...Gently now

2010-04-23T20:47:00.001-07:00

Sometimes the answer is no.

Sometimes the answer is simply you can’t win. Doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do, try or don’t try, things come out wrong. Not specifically wrong, just generally wrong. Conflict inside breeds conflict outside. The head and the heart can’t agree, logic and illogic take up the usual stances; it all feels old yet the topic has changed. Or maybe it hasn’t. Maybe it’s the same battle as always just fought a different way on a different day.

Does it matter?

There’s discord; the ever-struggling balance for harmony has been disrupted. I feel old and tired, frustrated and sad, and very much like the foundation of all I know is cracked. Dangerously cracked. Do I patch like hell or risk tearing down altogether and starting fresh? It’s a much heavier decision than it sounds – I can’t afford to get it wrong. The cracks are never from just one thing either; it’s usually four, or six, or nine all at once, demanding priority and all being equally important. Time doesn’t heal all things; you have to work at them over time. Big difference.

So what if there is no time?

What if you need years of healing in a week or less? I’d say you need a little magic and a lot of faith. Maybe a week of free time to focus on nothing else. To not think and just do, to change who you are, down to all but five things, and become someone better. Right now.

Expectations are terrible things; they breed monsters in the night. I know many a good thing that’s been shattered by someone’s overblown expectations. This situation could be no different. Delicacy is definitely required.

One of my recent fortune cookies said not to let unexpected situations throw me…I’m still working on that one. Among many others.

Tickets are Toast

2010-04-20T08:55:00.000-07:00

I give you an example of perspectives…

The background:
Last night (Saturday) a client came to pick up her chandelier. She’d just come from the Montgomery Gentry concert out at the air base, where she’d gotten to go backstage, take pictures with the singer, and been given 6 tickets to the final Brooks and Dunn concert tomorrow night (Monday). She gave two of them to me. I called home real quick to make sure Honey wasn’t working that night and we could go. We were all excited.

My (rather overwhelmed) perspective:
This morning I go to work and get a call from the client. She’s all in a panic; some story about her mother took it upon herself to call the sister and got the sister on a plane to Vegas thinking that she has tickets to see this concert. Those would be the tickets the client gave me. And she wants them back. She says she’ll make it up to us, take us out to dinner, but OMG she’s gotta have those tickets back. So I tell her fine, no big deal. I send Honey a message saying tomorrow night is canceled, long story, she wants the tickets back.

Honey’s black-n-white perspective:
She gave us tickets; they’re ours now, Hell No she can’t have them back. Indian giver!

Me: What am I supposed to do now? I know this is gonna get ugly – these are not the kind of people who take ‘no’ for an answer. So I call the client and say look, I should’ve talked to my husband first, he doesn’t want to give them back. As expected, she breezed right past that like I didn’t say it. She said we gotta have those tickets, we’ll go to the house and pick them up – for the record, I was smart enough to say flatly I wasn’t giving them my home address – and of course she was right down the road from the shop and was headed to see me. She wants me to explain everything to my husband, all the back story and make this happen; I call home.

Him: No! It’s not our fault or our problem. I’m gonna burn ‘em.

Me: Really, what am I supposed to do? These people are coming to my work expecting to get their way, I can’t leave and I don’t need a scene right in front of the counter and possibly customers. Besides, this is personal, not business. I’m on the phone with Honey in the back office when they arrive. By this time the tickets are ash in the bbq out back, a bombshell I’m not man enough to drop, I’ve spoken to both sides at least twice – I’ve omitted a lot of the yelling swear words for this post – everyone is pissed off except me (my turn comes later). I say a small prayer and step out front. I tell them the most expeditious thing would be for them to speak to my husband directly and privately. I take them into the office, close the door, call home, and let all Hell break loose.

Him: hehe, bring it. (I think).

Me: Honey spoke to her. Once he said he’d burnt the tickets she passed the phone to her husband, who had already lost his temper, and at a certain point said he was an FBI agent and would call the venue to have the tickets invalidated, if we wanted this to get ugly.

Him: Would you like their number?

Me: Dear Lord, here we go. I’ve been staring at the wall with a blank expression this whole time. The husband loudly says, do you want this to get ugly? I say, are you talking to me? He says yes; I say no. He says I better talk some sense into my husband and hands me the phone. I say hello very sweetly, knowing there’s no sense to be had from this mess. I hand the phone back; shortly after it’s slammed down and they storm out. I say ‘I’m sorry guys’, to which the husband snaps: no you’re not, if you were you’d do something about it, and slams the door in my face. In all honestly, my very first thought after that was: you don’t know my husband.

Deep breaths. Call home.

Him: That went well. His voice tells me he’s smiling. If you’re going to argue morals, remember you gave those tickets away and they are property of someone else. The morally correct thing to do would be solve the situation by buying replacements – basically the exact opposite of everything you just did. You don’t ask for gifts back (that’s ballsy at best), you don’t get nasty when the answer isn’t what you wanna hear (rude), and you definitely don’t try to strong-arm me into doing what you want (go fuck yourself!).

Me: I spend the next hour on the phone. The client called twice. Between those calls I was on the phone with Honey. They want to bring back the three amazing fans I found for them and the chandelier from the night before and they want it all credited to their Amex. (In theory to punish me for not bending to their will). I paused, momentarily considering how wise it would be to tell them about our “all sales are final” policy, if that would be poking an angry bull with a stick, and went for it. I said they could get store credit or exchange them. Her husband said he’d contest the charges with Amex. I said ok, or he could take it up with the manager on Tuesday, it really wasn’t up to me. He made some snide comment about how that wasn’t up to me either, how convenient. We hung up. By this time Honey is practically giddy. The tickets were free - easy come, easy go - and he made it so they couldn’t win, which is more infuriating than losing. I’ve been cool as a cucumber since the angst was deflected off of me and I’m starting to see the clear picture now. These people are shitty. The client calls again. She’s a little friendlier and conversational now, almost chatty, and she’s trying to figure out my husband’s irrationality. They don’t believe for a second that the tickets are burnt. I say if he says he burnt them, I believe him. Now she says her husband isn’t gonna do anything, there was a little more discussed confusion on their side, and we hung up.

I call the manager so he’s not blindsided if they come storming in on Tuesday.

Later that afternoon, having had time to think things through, now I’m pissed off. When you give something away it no longer belongs to you, nor do you have any claim to it…possession being nine-tenths and all. There are two of us, Honey and me, in this marriage so if I say yes and he says no and we can’t compromise, then we stick together whether we agree or not. They think that because they gave them to me and I said yeah sure you can have them back, that his opinion means nothing. Or that I’m gonna stomp my foot and say “you will” and override my husband because they want me to. (Haha, nice try). I realize I’m younger than them, which automatically equals ‘kid’, and they’re so used to throwing money and weight around (possibly doing the flip-flip to other people with the so-called FBI badge) that they’re used to getting their way, but they’ve never come across someone who truly doesn’t care. That would be Honey. And they’ve never had to fight irrationality – that will make you crazy if you think about it too long.

So Honey was right. I couldn’t see it until I was basically removed from the situation. He said I was thinking about it from a customer service standpoint, which I was, but the truth is if they bring everything back…I lose about $14 dollars. So live and learn I guess.

I am not a door mat; you will not walk on me.

Personal Challenge

2010-04-18T09:32:00.001-07:00

If this keeps up I’ll have to rename the blog “Parking Garage Confessions”. I’m currently in the rat maze known as the Palazzo parking garage. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. There are pillars where there should definitely be none, spaces tucked in between pillars and in tiny corners, and very few signs. I drove in the same circle three times, exited once (by accident), got back in (luckily), came to a dead end (charming), and finally found the ramp into the basement, where very luckily someone was just leaving (Thank you Lord). This is shock-creted hell – the whole place feels like a very large afterthought. At least there’s soothing music playing.

So I have a challenge for you: look yourself in the face, admit your most hideous flaw, and accept the consequences. Now spend the next 23 days doing everything in your power to correct that flaw.

Sounds simple right? How bad could it be? Well that depends on your acceptable level of human decency – most people’s is pretty low. I figured, at least until last Wednesday, that just about everyone else on the planet is a hypocrite - why should I be the only one going against the flow? Because I should. Because being a hypocrite shouldn’t be accepted as part of the natural order of things. Because we all hate other people when they do it, then we turn around and do it too, but somehow that’s ok.

Maybe you can admit your flaw. The twist is accepting the consequences. Most consequences involve harm of some sort to someone, usually your significant other or the people closest to you (i.e. family and friends). Since I’m using hypocrites as an example…it means you won’t do what you expect others to do, which implies you’re somehow better than them, and it breeds resentment faster than rabbits or dust bunnies. Hence the consequences being people think you have a superiority complex and don’t want to hang out with you. It also means you have to acknowledge and accept that fact as no one’s fault but your own. Not so easy after all, huh.

In theory, 23 days is how long it takes to develop a habit, good or bad. So if you can be conscious of your hypocritical self, and correct that behavior at every turn, in 23 days it should be second nature and viola! You’re a better person.

I will be the first to tell you this exercise sucks. When done properly, it’s an emotional rollercoaster with a lot of steep drops, too many to comply with the laws of physics. But nowhere is it written that there’s nothing wrong with you. We tell each other and ourselves that all the time, but it’s not true. We’re flawed, damaged, savage creatures that are excellent at pointing the finger and blaming someone else. You can be better than that.

Still too easy? Try admitting your flaws to someone you love, whose good enough not to argue with you or try to comfort you in any way. Once you’ve conquered one, do another, and another. Better yet, do them all at once; make a list, get in touch with how shitty you really are, and then change, become a better version of you.

Maybe I’m onto something…or maybe there’s no air down here and my brain is slowly cooking. Your choice.

Quack

2010-04-11T22:22:00.000-07:00

I got into a high school argument at work today. The temp kid stole a sale, I called him on it, he responded with some smart ass remark, and I lost my temper. I did manage to get the brain-to-mouth filter back in place before saying anything really damaging, but there was swearing involved and now I want to punch him in the throat more than ever. With any luck, he won't show up tomorrow. If he does, I'm gonna have to apologize for losing said temper, mostly to make myself look like a better person than I am to my superiors, not because I'm sorry in the least. Honey told me never to argue with an idiot - you can't win and you have to stoop to their level. The duck theory worked great until then. If anyone should happen upon a woman muttering "quack" under her breath, don't panic, that's me.

Sunny Las Vegas

2010-04-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

It’s been a tough day. Coming off a great weekend of partying hard: riding horses (Belgians no less, no small feat), dinner out, a day trip to Death Valley, and then dragging into work this morning to hear that everything went sideways while I was gone was not a great way to start the week. Clients with self-righteous attitudes, people who out and out stole stuff (they’re claiming they thought it was paid for, surprise, surprise), two people being promised the same merchandise… I’m not sure I’m one of those people who could work the same job for 30 years. My tolerance level for bullshit and being treated like crap seems to get lower every job I work. And no matter how great the job, eventually there are days that rank up there with the doozies; the ones where you should go back to bed, get up, and try again. Seeing as I work in a service industry, I try to truly be of service; unfortunately I seem to get the clients who imperiously expect you to bow to their every wish and feel grateful for the opportunity. Like the guy I’ve been bending over backwards for who tells my boss he thinks “I’m not all there”. Right at this moment, I hate everyone. People suck and they have no redeeming qualities.

Do I feel better after writing all that? No. I keep trying to be like a duck. Unfortunately it took me until 2:30pm today to get my quack straightened out. I was so mad and couldn’t express it well enough (safely) to let it go. I called Honey for a pep talk; he said nobody’s going to give a shit that I’m upset. Have you ever heard of it ruining someone’s day to know they offended the lady at the lamp store? Me neither. It sounds easy to think ‘well if they don’t care about me then I won’t care about them’ if you’re the last one to get stepped on. *sigh* live and learn, I guess.

There’s an alright view from about the 8th floor of the Venetian parking garage. Tonight my role is chauffeur - they don’t let assistants play with the paparazzi on the red (or sometimes blue) carpet. I look like a homeless person in a really nice car; the pajamas are not helping contradict that image. My whole plan was to be in bed by 8:30pm, considering how hard it was to get up today, but it looks like it’ll be closer to 11pm. Good thing we start an hour later tomorrow.

The Death Valley trip was good. We left later than planned and didn’t get to see everything on Honey’s itinerary, but we all had a good time. We arrived just in time for one of the last tours of Scotty’s Castle. The road construction was awful, Ubehebe was closed altogether, and we lost a lot of time waiting for one-way traffic. Oh, and next time we’re taking the other route in.

So I’m thinking I need a little more “fuck it” in my system. According to Kat Williams, that’s what pot does for you. Not only does he make me laugh, sometimes I think he’s onto something. Nothing is really that serious. There’s very little that is, but I know I for one get my non-panties all in a twist just the same. I need to learn to not give a shit and just have a good time. So the temp kid is dumber than a rock and making my job harder - he’ll be gone in a week and confused about it. So I got a whole grip of payments now when a month ago I had nearly none – I’ll be paying somebody for something every day of my life, at least I have the nice things to show for it. And when all else fails – it’s always sunny in Las Vegas.

---Pictures of the trip coming soon...

Frustrated...slowly approving insanity

2010-04-01T22:46:00.000-07:00

I just want to throttle something.

My computer is revolting against me and trying to cook itself. We think the fan died; now there's a desk fan blowing on the harddrive to keep it cool. I had to have Honey get to Blogger and log me in because when I touch it, Nermal (my computer) just sits there. Nothing more fun than watching the spinning hourglass.

I hate the wind. I become irrationally irritable and twitchy when the wind kicks up. It's not helping that there's a pollen tornado out there and my allergies make me feel like there's a brick in my face. My head hurts, my nose is raw, and the next person who says anything close to "haha, I don't have allergies" is gonna get punched in the throat.

My friend from out of town is here for two weeks, half of which has already passed. She was all excited to see me for two months prior, but now that she's here she can't seem to be bothered. I've seen her twice, all the effort being on my end, and all the fun things we planned have been forgotten. She tells me she can't leave her sick child at home with her parents (he's 3); I go to visit and she's gone to see an old work friend, leaving her sick child at home with her parents, on the same day she said she'd have time to see me.

I'm trying very hard not to snap at anyone, bite anyone, or eat ice cream continuously like an emotional loser. I'll keep you posted on how all that works out.

What? No Giddiness?

2010-03-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

Something inside me doesn’t want me to be happy. If When I find it I’m going to squish it with an evil smile on my face. Maniacal laughter shall follow. I’ve earned happiness, today especially. Today I bought myself a car - a really nice car, with an affordable payment, a Bose sound system, and a showroom-ready engine…crappy credit and all. I just told the recession to shove it. Strange thing is I haven’t celebrated yet. I’m not currently giddy-happy, which I reasonably should be. Maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet; tomorrow when I bring it home it will (insurance paperwork is a pain). The part of me that really really hates payments had to bite her tongue. As Honey pointed out in his classic black & white fashion, I’m gonna be paying someone my whole life. Not a single thing is free anymore, maybe it never was. As he also pointed out, I don’t take any joy in my success. Somehow I manage to find something to worry about or pick at and there’s no giddiness. “Thou shalt do the dance” hasn’t happened yet. And damnit, when you make a third of what you once made and just bought a luxury SUV there shalt be dancing!

And it was all me. The angels get their credit too, especially the short one I know personally.

So the morals of today’s story: “in the pits” is partially a state of mind. Widen your view. Sometimes you need to lose to gain. You are exactly where you are meant to be.

Relapse of sorts

2010-03-22T15:30:00.000-07:00

I read my latest blog post to my husband the other day and he asked why I've been getting easily overwhelmed lately. And it's a fair question: why am I worried about...anything really? Has worrying ever helped anyone? Does it help you find the answers or make the questions harder? In my case, it turns me into a twitch.

So no more twitching. I know these things, like worrying doesn't help and often makes it worse, that you must show affection or your partner becomes furniture, that your parents don't decide who you are...but sometimes those things sneak up on me and I don't realize I'm doing it. It's frustrating, especially when you know.

I was doing so well.

The morning after Where The Wild THings Are

2010-03-21T11:37:00.000-07:00

Life seems strange to me right now. I’m trying to determine what I want, what I really want out of all this, and so far I’m getting conflicting answers. The two sides are starting to argue loudly and making decisions…leaves me second guessing myself. It’s very hard to plan for the long-term while the short-term won’t is misbehaving.

That doesn’t make much sense, even to me.

Let’s try again. I have several dreams, a couple pretty big ones, the paths to which seem to cross, therefore making decisions to move towards one leads me away from another. So the crux is: what do I really want. Or in the have-cake-and-eat-it-too sense, what do I want first.

I want to travel; roam the Earth like a nomad until I’ve seen enough, which may be never cuz I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl, be free to try anything that even tickles my interest, and effectively escape the mundane 9-to-5 career-based life that works for everyone else. We can start in the States with a travel trailer and graduate to backpacking everywhere else, or vise versa.

AND I want to have a little mini-house out in the mountains somewhere where I can live off the grid, grow all my own vegetables, and embrace the slower, much simpler, rather hippie lifestyle. I want goats cuz I like the milk and I think they’re cute, in a destructive sort of way, and a dog without a lease or a yard. I want solar panels and a wind turbine, a compost barrel and to pay nearly nothing in taxes because I’m self-sufficient.

Hence the inner struggle on what to work towards. Then of course there’s the issue of logistics. Even when the dream is to live simply it requires funds of some kind, funds requires a job of some sort, and I’m generally against those, for one because I hate paying taxes, and for two because you have to devote 40 hours a week or more to earn scraps. It’s defeatist from my point of view.

So how do I have the dream of being a nomad while being tied to a job in order to pay for it? Short answer is I need to work for myself, doing something that’s not truly based anywhere, or more directly, is based wherever I am. I haven’t got one of those in my back pocket, not yet anyway.

So all that is battling on the inside. On the outside I’m dealing with life in front of my face, which includes “biding my time” at a job I’ve been at for nearly a year, tire issues, trying to sort my life out of the many boxes Honey haphazardly packed it into, and needing to buy my own car soon, which is a whole other tangle – do I get an economy car for in town or a truck to go camping/fishing with even though I no longer have the boat, how am I going to afford it, how much do I have to put down, is there any way I can avoid going through a dealer and still get something decent that won’t break in 3 days????

There’s not much room left upstairs for anything else, so please don’t ask me anything hard. You’ll likely get a dumb stare.

We watched the movie Where the Wild Things Are last night, which struck several sensitive nerves. I cried for far more of it than was probably necessary or normal and had very confusing dreams I don’t remember on top of that. None of which is helping me get oriented or going this morning. A dream interpreter would need therapy after a week with me. Anyway, I’m gonna get some food and try to roll with the many waves instead of fighting them all.

Plan? There is no plan.

2010-03-10T19:39:00.000-08:00

I’m surrounded by boxes. I had to move boxes to get into this chair, but I have no idea what’s in them. What is all this stuff? I know I don’t have this much stuff!

The boxes say otherwise.

In the midst of all this chaos it has occurred to me that for a very long time nothing in my life has gone according to plan. I’ve gone from having the plan that covered my whole life, or what I thought was my whole life, seen in terms of a career and not much else, to shorter and shorter mini plans as events continued to do other than I expected. Life deviates and after awhile I just got tired of rewriting the script. To those who say “life is what you make of it”…I obviously have no idea what I’m doing. On the up side, I’m getting more comfortable with the randomness of things and just treating them all as a sort of ongoing surprise. It keeps it fresh, to say the least.

Being a sales clerk at a lamp store wasn’t real high on my list of life goals. Neither was falling madly in love (at the time when I bothered to have a list of life goals). There are blessings in both. Finding love brought my face up off the books and made me realize I’m my own person before anything else, especially a mindless drone of the career-only mindset or someone's puppet. It completely changed my perspective and my path; so did quitting a good/bad job just in time for the economic downturn.

Its funny how all your decisions lead down the path you’ve walked and yet you feel as though you’ve had no say in your life. I don’t feel that way – I’m not in control of much, if anything, and I’m sure all the decisions I’ve made, big and small, have lead to this moment…just don’t ask me which ones.

Two days from now we start again. In a sense it’s a new life. Enough things will be different I couldn’t reasonably call it a continuation of our old life, but its still us living the best we can, so – your call. I hope things will change for the better, that we make progress towards our dreams, which is all I really go for these days anyway. Know what you want (that’s key) and work towards that dream, hold on to it like the shining sun on the horizon, something you can see even in the darkest dark or deepest pit, and always maneuver towards it. The journey will be amazing and one day you’ll reach it.

Or you won’t. Sometimes you can’t have what you want. But better to spend your life pursuing a dream than not. :)

Quickie Update

2010-03-05T21:46:00.000-08:00

Ok, here’s a quickie update, cuz the madness has reached a new level of fever pitch and the next post may be a while…

We went to an MMA event at the Orleans Hotel; all amateur bouts. Honey got to be ring side; I sat in the back row – it would have been nose bleed seats if there was any elevation. There was a lot of blood – see below – and during the one heavyweight bout, the guy who'd been easily winning for the first two rounds got his arm broken in the third. Good times.

We attended the St Baldrick’s charity event hosted by Circus Couture at the Palms Hotel. There was a bidding war over a carved block of Monterey jack cheese and a Beatles painting. The majority of the donated art was purchased. There were fashion shows and circus acts. A girl shaved her head on stage (St Baldricks has shaving events where they donate money for every person who shaves their head) and there was a dwarf: a very small he-man in a speedo and a shoulder harness/feather collar thing. Awesome.

The after party at Ghostbar was…intresting. The dj was awesome and then the music would die for the live band – it wasn’t a good transition. I found a place to sit on one of the speakers closest to the wall. Lemme just say…anyone who’s seen the movie Private Parts…the song The Devil Went Down to Georgia…yeah. I didn’t get all spread and leaned forward or anything, but I couldn’t stop giggling. Enough said.

The next ten days are going to be a free for all. Wish me luck.

Explanation

2010-02-27T08:47:00.000-08:00

I debated back and forth about writing on this subject. But it’s been bugging me since yesterday (Thursday) so it’s probably better to get it out. Have you ever had someone you know, who knows you well enough to know better, assume something terrible about you and just run with it? Hurt feelings follow, assumptions are made that lead to a tangle of other assumptions, and at the end of it all there’s a 300lb gorilla in the room I didn’t know about. It feels awful, but worse than that. There aren’t enough adjectives…

I think I jinxed myself. I wrote a post mentioning I’d only offended one person. Now I’ve done it again. Technically it’s still one cuz it’s the same person, but I want to make it clear to that person in particular and everyone else in the world who might stumble across this blog:

I don’t write to hurt you or anyone.

I’m not an angry, malicious, secretly vicious, or otherwise nasty person. It goes against my inner, happy hippie nature and my theory of go along and get along. I’m the one who doesn’t retaliate because I don’t want to stoop to that level, plus I’ll feel shitty about it later. So it shocked my socks off that this particular person thought I was stabbing at him via the aforementioned post, when in truth and aside from the first paragraph, it had nothing to do with him. When I said life wasn’t about pleasing people and ‘you’ weren’t on the list anyway, I meant ‘you’ collectively, including everyone on the planet. Here’s a little further explanation if it’s still not clear:

I was raised as a pleaser. Making my folks proud and receiving affection became based on how I performed at school or on the soccer field. A ‘B’ in math earned a frown and a ‘C’ in reading was unacceptable. They tried to stage an intervention when I got a ‘D’ in college calculus, despise my having been in the hospital for a week during that term. I became the one who could always be depended on to work overtime even if I had plans. You can’t always do what makes others happy, and you shouldn’t do things you normally wouldn’t just for that reason. It turns into a huge mess eventually.

I’m 28 years old and I’m just now becoming my own person, realizing that I have a right to set boundaries and say ‘no’, and that people who would rather hurt than help, or refuse to respect my happiness have no place in my life. That’s what I meant when I said life wasn’t about pleasing people.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me being the first person I need to please either. That’s not selfish, and if you (anyone) disagree we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point. I’m not out there getting my jollies by stomping on the dreams of others. Pleasing me doesn’t hurt anyone. I deserve to be happy, and for me, a lot of that is an internal struggle with old, very deeply rooted issues.

This blog is helping me with some of those issues, especially the ones about expressing myself. Not all my thoughts are cute bunnies and fluffy clouds, but what I wrote is how I felt at the time and I needed to get it out. There are too many emotions careening around inside and damages are imminent if I keep stuffing them down. I won’t apologize for having thoughts or feelings that offended someone, because I had them, ugly or not. But I didn’t post them to hurt anyone and I’m never going to post something intentionally hurtful in the off-chance that the person might read it. That’s too grey. If we have issues, rest assured I’ll be contacting you (anyone) to discuss them directly.

Anyway, that’s the general jist. If I’m still not being clear, please COMMUNICATE that to me.

WTF

2010-02-25T08:06:00.000-08:00

Picture me heaving a huge sigh, possibly shaking my head, cycling through a myriad of emotions…sadness, anger, frustration. One voice in my head says “just be done with the whole mess”. Another says “why can’t you just say what needs to be said?” A third says “those two are practically one and the same”. The last one says “this sucks”.

I’ve had a friend for 18 years. Well, let me rephrase…I’ve known someone whom I’m friendly with for 18 years. The count for actual solid friendship is several years fewer. We walked nearly identical paths for a long time, and then mine did the veer and hers came to a dead end at a race track.

She’s stuck. She’s miserable. And I think she’s broken.

I’ve been slighted, ignored, avoided, and dismissed. The part of me that’s just getting the hang of enforcing abuse limits is starting to chatter in my ear, asking what exactly I’m doing here. Because I’m a great friend. The kind who’ll bail you out of jail or come to the rescue when your car breaks down (distance not withstanding); who’ll let you crash on my couch indefinitely so long as you help with groceries, and has been known to loan out underwear in extreme circumstances. You call, I’ll be there.

There are limits. And I’m rubbing against them. I don’t think it’s the least bit selfish to expect something in return. Not only am I not getting near what I give, I’m not getting anything, and that includes the time of day. I am playing second fiddle to a 6-month old relationship involving a de-virginized Mormon who’s hell-bent on marriage at the first opportunity. He’s her world, because there’s control. I get the logic: when you’re whole life is spiraling beyond your grasp, you hold on to what you can control, fiercely. The problem is he’s not helping her get a better grip on anything else, he’s just distracting her so she can pretend reality’s not happening.

And as you can imagine, the few occasions I do get time with her they inevitably include him. I can’t stand him. He’s the least informed and most opinionated person I’ve ever met. My dad, being the most opinionated person ever, at least had the decency to do his research. This one is something else. And he whines. Constantly.

The dilemma is: how do I get time with her without him; closely followed by: is it worth it, considering I’m the only one fighting for this relationship? When I’m angry, the short answers are “don’t waste your time” and “no”. There’s a soft spot somewhere though (damnable soft spot!) that reminds me we’ve known each other longer than anyone else (outside of family which is a whole other cluster fuck) and there’s history there. It should be as simple as talking about it.

It’s not.

In my experience with this particular person, talking is harder than it has any right to be. Mostly because everything said could be the one thing that ends it all. She likes truth far less than she likes reality, and the people around her have found it easier to sugar-coat things or simply let them go. No one is attempting to break the cycle, not even me, though I’m beginning to feel that the consequences would be worth it. I’m a Leo – it’s impossible for me to hide when I’m angry. Anyone who’s actually looking at me can tell what kind of day I’m having.

Earth to Friend: Look at Me!!

She wanted to get together tonight. I blew her off. Two months without a word, then a weird chipper message about $4 pizza deals. My door’s always open, anytime she’s free to get together. No response. I can’t even get penciled onto the calendar cuz something better might come up. I’m not gonna beg for anyone’s time.

I don’t feel better. I don’t know what to do…whether I should fight for 18 years of history, be it patchy in places, or let it slowly fade into nothing. I miss my friend, the person she was when I was worth her time. I guess she’s not that person anymore.

Let's Be Honest

2010-02-21T17:00:00.001-08:00

I was thinking this morning, for some unknown reason, about the one time (so far) that someone was offended by my blog. I had an opinion and someone I know had … an adverse reaction to it. I pulled the post down; retrospectively I shouldn’t have.

I guess it’s a result of too much time with my hubby, the man who sees all situations in simple black & white. Grey makes things muddy, confusing, and unnecessarily complicated; black & white cuts through the bullshit. I’m learning to think this way – it’s a double-edged sword though. It minimizes the drama, helps decision-making become easier, and simplifies many things. It also shows people for what they are, not how they’re trying to be, and everything becomes about truth, not perception. It’s blunt, hard, sometimes cold, yet simple and quite honestly, refreshing. What’s all this mess with feelings everyone insists on having? I say, yea for the happy feelings and screw the rest. Nowhere is it written that your life must include misery, conflict, and sadness, so I’ve decided to pass on those as much as possible.

Anyway, the point is now I’m blunter than I once was. I say what I mean, as opposed to a sugar coated version someone else can swallow easily, and it’s not always received well (shocker!). Life’s not all about pleasing people. There are only two people in this world that I’m interested in pleasing, and one of them is me. So if you’re offended, keep in mind you weren’t on the list to begin with.

There was some other point I was going to make and I've since lost it....another time perhaps.

Bad Juju

2010-02-19T18:45:00.000-08:00

I was getting it together finally. The holidays last year were the first good ones I can remember since leaving home all those years ago. There was no depression, moodiness, crying for anything/nothing, or feeling like an abandoned waif one second and a raging bull the next. I’d said my peace – a letter full of my very small voice choking out what needed to be said, probably falling on deaf ears. We were better.
.
.
.
.

Then the box arrived.
.
.
.

It felt a bit like our first road trip with the Rover, when I could see a rock coming at us like a javelin but couldn’t avoid it. It made such a big chip I jokingly called it the ‘North Star’. So too, when the most unlikely messenger came waltzing into the shop saying she had a box for me – I could see her coming, knowing it could only bode ill, but helpless to get out of the way. I accepted the box, shouldn’t have. She said it’d been mailed 2 years ago to my old address but I’d moved. She left, leaving me with a deep sense of foreboding.

I almost didn’t open it. I knew who it came from, there was no one else, and a wicked bitterness welled in my stomach knowing it was all my fault. I should’ve talked to Honey, should never have made that phone call, or agreed to meet. Should’ve known no good could possibly come from it. Should have left well enough alone. Now, the door I had been trying for so many years to keep chained and later to slam completely was open again.
.
.
.

*sigh* Live and learn I guess.
.
.
.

I opened it. Confusion was the name of the game for the rest of the day. There was no note, no explanation. My high school diploma, old prom pictures, a couple year books, some blurry photos from middle school of people I don’t remember…a stuffed reindeer I’ve had forever and haven’t seen in about as long, a framed photo of an old soccer team. And at the very bottom, two scrap book pages, I’m sure made by me, with old Polaroid’s of my parents wedding reception, the animals I loved now gone, me kissing a rabbit and looking lanky and slightly like a Wild Thing, holding a soccer trophy in the front yard.

I don’t know the purpose of a package like that. The few happy memories were ruined by the black noxious cloud that clings to everything surrounding the sender. The woman is evil, I know it, but in that subtle, passive-aggressive way that’s so hard to spot and harder to combat. You don’t realize until later that she’s insulted the hell out of you to your face.

I called home. Afterward I felt worse, the whole scope of how bad this could get sinking in like poison. The postmarks said March ’09, the delivery confirmation signature had been removed, and the forwarding sticker from the post office was on it. It was addressed to ‘Ms’ and in my maiden name. (Our 7th anniversary is next month). I have no idea how the messenger got it.

I took the diploma to file with my taxes and one prom picture, the only picture in the box including my husband. And I Fed-Ex’d it back. I included a short note asking that no more boxes be sent, that I wouldn’t accept anymore packages from her messenger; I had no use for the contents so she could do with them what she wanted, trash or keep, and I didn’t want anything from them.
.
.
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The things I once wanted are lost forever, spoiled with a legacy of bad juju.

5 Rules to a Great Relationship

2010-02-14T17:10:00.000-08:00

Let me start with the disclaimer: I don’t know everything, nor do I claim to, take it all with a grain of salt, or write me off as crazy and do it your own way…

But I’ve been with the same man for 11 years, neither one of us is dead as a result of the other losing his/her mind, and we’re happy. It’s a happy that’s evident to people who spend time with us, but without the over-the-top displays of public affection and sucking face that make most people gag. So here are my tips for a lasting, loving relationship:

1. Spend more time with your partner than anyone else.

2. Whatever you love to do, do it together.

3. Learn to argue well – that means without being needlessly vicious and reaching a resolution as expeditiously as possible.

4. Support each other, always, even if it’s insane.

5. Be as crazy/infuriating/frustrating as your partner – it creates balance and you’re both in it for equal amounts of BS.

Now, go forth and be romantic on this Valentine’s Day. Or you could do what we’re doing, which when you really think about it is an awesome alternative, going to a strip club and buying each other lap dances. ♥

Let them read CAKE

2010-02-09T20:22:00.000-08:00

Also please note the updated link for the Cupcake Blog by Chockylit. If you have a sweet anything in your body - tooth, toe, every hair on your head - this blog is for you. It's like a dirty, slutty, sexually charged romance novel about cupcakes, made of things you've never dreamed about...bacon, toffee, chocolate anyone?

New Color!!

2010-02-09T20:06:00.000-08:00

So how's everyone feeling about the new color scheme?

I've been stirring a few things lately on the blog, seemed a good time for a color change as well. This one is easier on the eyes.

It feels a bit like there are lots of things waiting to be done, but I don't know what they are. The complete collection of Sherlock Holmes stories is overdue by about 6 days. I folded some laundry. The issue with the printer has been reconciled, temporarily anyway. Do you think its bad form to go to the bar on your work-Monday night? Before you start speculating on my downward spiraling life, keep in mind that I don't drink and generally go to bars to look at hot women, who may or may not be sloppy drunk, and to laugh at my friends while they get drunk. Who says designated drivers never have any fun?

The humble abode is down to three, which I like better. If I'm going to clean up after someone, I'd prefer it was someone who acknowledges they've made a mess and appreciate it was cleaned - instead of someone who feels that's how it should be: a magically clean space for them to destroy repeatedly. That's for people with children, not me.
I heard on the radio this morning that in Europe somewhere they’ve published a study saying people who own cats are usually more educated than people who own dogs. Their reasoning behind this remark was that cats require less time, which is well suited to people working longer hours and with farther commutes…which of course is a requirement for anyone with a degree. I started laughing. The radio show also said it was looking favorable for Howard Stern to take Simon Cowells’ place on American Idol, not that anyone cares about that, including Howard Stern so Honey tells me.

I really miss fishing. I’m really gonna miss my boat the next time I go fishing. It seems crueler to take away a fishing boat than it does a car. I’m emotionally attached to the boat. *sigh* I’ve tried to explain it before, about fishing; how it’s not so much about catching fish, but getting away from everything else and spending long afternoons basking in the glory of nature and its tranquility. Nobody seems to get it. Too much television creates the need to constantly be entertained. As much as I love the internet and Tivo, sometimes I wish the whole thing would just crash. I hate to say it, but my dad was right: TV turns your brain into pudding. Just try holding a conversation with me when I’m watching Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives (my favorite food porn), you’d think I was dumb or something. Books do me the same way, except they feed the brain and turn me into a walking dictionary for my husband.

I’m gonna go get ready for the bar… :)

Wabi Sabi quotes...and a beautiful direction for a long journey

2010-02-08T20:10:00.000-08:00

Language...has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone.
- Paul Tillich

The secret of contentment is knowing how to enjoy what you have, and to be able to lose all desire for things beyond your reach.
-Lin Yutang

Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius - and a lot of courage - to move in the opposite direction.
-E.F. Shcumacher

Be content with what you have, rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.
-Lao Tse

Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.
-Epictetus

Then and Now

2010-02-07T13:14:00.000-08:00

I was reading a blog the other night, got re-directed to another blog, and subsequently discovered the person in stewardship of the first blog is what I would consider, at first glance and by one post, a completely self-absorbed bitch. Needless to say, I abandoned the desire to be a guest blogger. On the basis that her 800+ followers wouldn't go for me since I definitely don't go for her. More power to her and her lemings, but they're not for me.

Besides, I write for me. Because it's therapuetic and puts things into perspective, not because I have anything dazzling to say or because I think I'll gain friends. I've never been very popular - maybe that's why it's not one of my main life goals.

I made the mistake (again) of reading old journal entries to see where I was, mentally, on any given day. March 23, 2009, for example. That day in particular I was prepared, calm, and waiting for movement so I could move in turn. What ultimately happened: I got fired. So there I sat, 1000 miles from home, no money, no job, in an apartment lease 11 days old, and an overwhelming desire to tell a supervisor how poorly he'd handled supervising. I remember thinking how all the stars had aligned for us even to pick up and move to Portland, how in 9 days I'd driven 3000 miles to, back, and to again in order to start work on Monday. And how it all fell apart in 5 weeks, which didn't make sense to me at all.

Then, like now, not a lot makes sense. Maybe it's not supposed to. That's what they say, right? It's all part of a huge ineffible plan and we mere mortals aren't meant to understand. Well, I don't. I'll admit it so the rest of you will comfortable. For once, the entire world is in the same boat and just "doing what you can" is actually acceptable. I appreciate that.

Still chasing the dream. Dreams. Seems some days I want everything and I want it now. Making a living seems secondary to making sure my life is worth living and a good time. I'm skewed, what can I say. But I'm not wrong. I want to thrive, not just survive, which is what I've been doing most of my life, and probably you in yours. I'm taking it down to the basics of survival: food, water, shelter. Everything after that is a 'want', not a 'need'. I'm looking forward to donating everything I own when the time is right.

A model just asked me if I was a writer. After a pause, I said Yes with a smile. One step closer to one of many dreams...

Your Attention Please!

2010-02-03T20:27:00.000-08:00

Two things need your attention.

First: 2010 5th Edition of Canon Editor's Choice.
This is an excerpt that briefly explains what Editor's Choice is all about. Read the full article here.

"The idea behind Editor’s Choice is a simple one: a few times a year Canon photographers can submit their images for review by a leading photo editor. The guest editor then makes a selection of the best images, which are showcased on CPN with the reasons behind the choices explained. Sure, there has been the odd holiday snap or picture of a pet, but there have also been some outstanding work generating a huge amount of interest in the worldwide ‘Canon-using community’.

One of the 13 photos selected by this editions' editor belongs to my husband. See her presentation and explanation here. (You have to scroll down a bit and click the red "presentation" link; I can't link it directly, tried). There's a lot of content; be patient.

Second: Don't Tell Mama's
There is a piano bar in the East Fremont district of downtown Las Vegas and it's bursting with talent. All the employees of this hole-in-the-wall heaven can sing and/or play the grand piano. And I mean sang. It's also open mike, so if you can sing, you're welcome to and they'll play background for you. It's horribly under-promoted, but now that I've found it, I want everyone to know what a gem it is. If you're local, please stop by any day after 8pm and enjoy some local flavor.

Another day in Paradise

2010-01-31T14:07:00.000-08:00

I passed up a beautiful sunny afternoon wandering with my camera in Nelson for this. Instead I'm transistioning from one soft surface to another, listening to my butterball cat chatter like a 5-yr old in a very annoying voice. I'm managed to get from bed to the dining table to the sofa so far today. In my current world that's a fair accomplishment.Still trying to convince my insides they don't hate me and that yesterday's epidsode was entirely unnecessary, even if they did have some quarrel with me.

I was reading a blog recommended by another blog I'm quai-following. The writer has made it a point not to reveal anything about herself: name, location, etc. It left me wondering, aside from withholding "Hi, my name is ______ and I live in _________", how does one not reveal anything about themselves while blogging? Some of the posts I've read are more telling and personal than if we'd sat down together for coffee and talked for two hours.

Oh boy. The umpa-loompa music is blaring again. That's almost enough to make me sick again. It's just too fecking happy and I'm exhausted. Another nap may be in order...

Farm Girl

2010-01-28T22:28:00.000-08:00

I'm a hippie in training I guess, because this woman has me beat by about a mile. Her blog makes me smile and gives me a great goal to shoot for as part of the bigger dream (which I'm keeping under wraps on principle). She's been added to my "Inspirations" list, probably without her knowledge, so please check her out of you get a minute.

The Dilemma of the Moment

2010-01-28T21:14:00.000-08:00

I've stalled off posting the last two days due to an absolutely shitty attitude. I didn't think it was necessary to splash all over you good people.

Today, however, leaves me in an ironic position: trapped somewhere between wanting to champion the fat girls and having a small Asian woman assume I'm pregnant. I'm not, by the way. Let me explain.

Last night we watched the movie The Invention of Lying, which turned out much better than I thought, considering I was still in that shitty mood when we started. It's based in a world where everyone tells the absolute truth (brutal or not), not because they have morals or anything but because they physically can't comprehend saying something that isn't true. They don't even have use of the word 'true' or 'lie'. The point being that if someone thinks you're a fat loser, they tell you to your face without a second thought. And much of the dating interaction involves determining whether or not someone's genetics are good enough for you: i.e. pretty enough, making enough money, etc. The nerds end up with the nerds, the fat people with other fat people, and the hot attractive people - a club I've never been in due to my dress size - end up with other hot attractive people based solely on their hottness. Kinda like Hollywood. And they only judge based on appearance: overweight = loser, period. It all ended well, the fat man got the hot girl, and the whole thing left me somewhat dumbfounded. I was shocked at some of the brutal comments, which was a large part of the humor, but at the same time completely true out here in the real world. We all do that: judge people and assume that anyone overweight is lesser somehow. I felt like I needed to be all I could be at my size, and for those of you who don't know me, that size ain't 6.

So I go to work today, like any other day, and right before my shift ends this very small Asian woman comes running in, grabs a hand basket for herself and her husband, and starts buying half the store. At the end of the whole thing, she takes all the bags from me and won't let me carry a thing, saying something in very broken English about 'pregnant'. She thinks I'm pregnant. Now any woman will tell you there's nothing worse in the world than someone assuming you're pregnant when you're not. For me, this is the second time. The first time I was gearing up for my senior prom and I responded with hurt indignation and called the guy a few nasty names, as most would. This time I started laughing. I joked that if she wants to spend over $1100 with me, she can call me pregnant all day. I'm sure however that its messing with me on some deeper level; I just haven't acknowledged how deep.

Now here I am, debating: do I go out and be a damn, happy fat girl or get my ample buns in the gym so no one mistakes me for pregnant ever again?

Choices, choices.

A light in the dark

2010-01-25T21:47:00.000-08:00

I've just been reading a new blog I'm considering following. It's not particularly happy: the mental wanderings of a woman with depression, dealing with work stress, dirty laundry, and finding the will to live through morning tea and oatmeal. It makes me, with my comparatively small parental issues, seem grounded and normal when I've known for years that I'm not. We all do what we must, and since I've conquered a small part of my many issues, I thought maybe I couldn help...rather ironic. My support group mantra was "get over it". It was harsh and insensitive and brutal to hear and I hated it...and exactly what I needed, repeated for 5 years before I had the courage to dig inside myself and let it go. I don't claim to be "cured", if there is such a thing, but I can talk about my folks now without bitterness. It is what it is; the only difference is I can accept it now and move forward. I hope everyone can find their way out their own darkness.

Let's be Honest

2010-01-20T20:15:00.000-08:00

I was chastised just now. A reward for my whining that there’s no time: for the gym or my blog or guesting on someone else’s blog, which sounds great before the ramifications hit me that I need something to say, something dazzling and intellectual to impress an audience other than my own and that I haven’t been able to produce that for my own blog of late. It’s a bit daunting. All these things I say I want to do, that I’ve said for years I want to do, but I don’t. It leaves me feeling raw. I have this grimace on my face when I think about it and a sour taste in my mouth and that sickening feeling inside when inescapable truth arrives. If I lead a dull existence…that must be what I wanted. Action requires effort. Effort requires desire. And without desire…well there you are – there I am, sitting on this horrible lumpy couch, guilting about my tightening slacks and the huge brownie in my hand, wondering as I have since I was 13 or so, while attempting to become my own person in a household where it was discouraged if done outside the accepted lines, wondering why haven’t I done [fill in the blank as appropriate] yet? I’ve come to hate the word ‘why’ almost as much as ‘should’.

Despite that and the rawness which I’m forced to face, it’s a valid question. Truthfully, it’s so much more than a valid question; it’s the only question of my life, possibly everyone’s life. The answers are always excuses, cop-outs, or generalized bullshit to shield myself from the truth, which may be that I’m lazier than I realized. It may also be that I don’t want what I want. Maybe I don’t want to be svelte and healthy nearly as much as I claim – hello, more than 10 years of saying I’m going to diet, gym, sweat, whatever is necessary until I get there and yet here I am, probably 10 lbs heavier than I was 4 months ago and farther still from my long-standing goal. I’ve been saying I wanted to resume piano since I left college, also more than 10 years ago, and yet there’s no piano in this house. My chest aches when I hear those keys; the most appealing and comforting sound to my particular ear and inner whatever-you-call-it, yet I don’t play. And maybe too, it’s a comfort thing. I already know…how to behave or respond or judge in relation to my not-so-happy little rut.

No matter how I look at it, how many ways I turn it, how I try to pretend and sugar-coat my own hypocrisy, the truth is: I have no excuse. I sleep too much. I eat too much. I eat junk when the better option is just as available. I let other people’s needs outweigh my own. I don’t try, and when I do, it’s not hard enough. Where is the zest? Where is the spice? Where is that damnable person who told me I had too many big dreams, that I couldn’t have them all, and that I’d have to chose and just let the rest go, so I can punch him right in the face?

*Deep breath*

I have no excuse. You don’t either. Go chase your dreams; I’ll be out there with you. I don’t know about you, but I can’t face myself knowing that I had so many opportunities for a novel-worthy, freaking amazing, always-with-a-great-story-to-tell life and did nothing about it. Can you??

I am approaching drunk. I think.

2010-01-10T20:34:00.000-08:00

Seems like a good time to advice everyone else on the finer points of life which I'm sure you're all missing.
First: Soup is good. I could live on soup and breadsticks very happily for the rest of my life. I am reminded of this every time I eat at Olive Garden.
Second: Mashed potatoes are better with garlic, too much butter, and gravy of just about any sort.
Third: You should have more sex. Well-sexed people are happy, mellow, slow to anger, easy to laugh, and more positive than their less-sexed neighbors - proably because no matter how bad things are there's always more sex coming soon.
Fourth: I haven't thought of a fourth yet.
Fifth: Good life lessons can be learned from reading everything about Sherlock Holmes. When I'm done with the book I'm sure you can request it from your local library.
Sixth: Terry Pratchet is awesome. The man created his own world, that rides on the back of four elephants that stand on a giant turtle that floats through space. Like I said, freaking awesome.
Seventh: Canadian whiskey is quite pleasing when accompanied by Coke and lime. I'll keep you posted as to whether headaches are a problem.
Eighth: The word eighth has too many 'h's.
Nineth: I've decided that the best way to grow eyebrows is to shave them off. Think about it - it'll make perfect sense.
Tenth: Feeling like Gumbi is not an entirely unpleasant feeling. Perhaps this is my unique reaction to alchol?

In closing, I would like to direct your fascinated attention to this video on making curls with paper bags.

No fun undone

2010-01-06T22:14:00.000-08:00

So…at present I have the most energy I’ve had since probably…I was 10 years old. It comes on me in fits and spurts and this particular spurt is slightly inconvenient. It’s 10pm pacific time – I’m game to run a marathon right now. Unfortunately my couch-potato hubby is becoming annoyed by my incessant nagging that we should dance, drink, fornicate, do bad-ass cardio, run (on foot) to 7-Eleven, or otherwise burn insane amounts of juice so that I might be able to sleep tonight. So far he hasn’t jumped at any of my suggestions, for which I’m slightly put out. Usually I’m dragging major ass after a day of waiting on indecisive elderly ladies and want nothing more than to sit undisturbed for 10 minutes and slink off to bed. Tonight though, even after a day of being a man down and at least one exceptionally difficult, indecisive elderly lady (and her footman), I’m ready to take on a small army. It might have been the burrito, the fruitcake, or the other cake – I’m not sure. Anyway, the bad part of this whole thing – if nobody joins in or worse attempts to tone me down to a reasonable level of eccentricity…most of the fizz drains away in disappointment. I’m approaching that level at this moment and it feels somewhat like an opportunity wasted. I’ve been instructed by a higher power: leave no fun undone.

So I’m off to create a little madness on this otherwise uneventful evening. I hope you all do the same, because ultimately my favorite question and motto: Why not??

Food for thought

2010-01-06T08:55:00.000-08:00

A few anecdodal lines that sum up the complex world of relationships...

There comes a point in your life where you realize:

Who matters,

Who never did,
Who won't anymore...
And who always will.
So, don't worry about people from your past,
There's a reason why they didn't make it to your future.

Mental Meanderings on a Tough Day

2010-01-06T08:48:00.001-08:00

Uncertainty pervades these days. It’s all new and shiny, this new year of unparalleled opportunities, and yet the undercurrent is the same: impending tragedy hovering in the wings. Standing at the precipice with toes gripping the edge, holding the breath and praying whatever looms doesn’t descend. We’re all there, in one way or another. Times are hard - ask anyone.

Yet…we smile; we laugh. We leave hard decisions for another day and pretend all is well. And for a little while, it is. We pretend some more. Too much is attached to so little and yet we know no different. Those with little are poor; those with much are rich. Even as I know the truth of it, I’m afraid. That hungry beast may cast its evil eye this way, ravenous, unstoppable, and unforgiving. Leaving us only with what is truly ours.

The day comes when the big decision will wait no longer, now not so big after all, almost simple. So simple it decides itself. Move through life as if it were scripted to the last act, pretend you have no control, and the fault lies elsewhere, anywhere.

Yet…there is choice. There is always choice. One option often too terrible to consider and ruled out off hand. It simplifies and agonizes. Consider any direction as a path, even a circuitous one, and move. Action on one’s own behalf changes perspective, which could change your world.

Smile. That could change your world too.

When Inspiration Strikes...

2010-01-02T08:47:00.000-08:00

There’s something to be said for inspiration.

You stride through the world with even the winds at your command, or conversely you wander, taking leisurely strolls, stopping to smell flowers and enjoy sunsets… and yet, when inspiration grabs you, you realize in a flashing, humbling moment that you haven’t really been paying attention. Suddenly everything is alive with color and deeper meaning, like you've never seen it before.

It comes from surprising sources, always there but often where the eye does not see, and then – its thrust to the front where it won’t be ignored and takes your breath away.

I read two authors recently that by the shortest of paragraphs pulled my heart out where I had no choice but to see it. To gently force contemplation or longing is truly a gift, one which I have often failed to give my readers. Please take a moment to become acquainted with Meditations in an Emergency and Birdykins: Fly, Crash, Repeat. You won’t be disappointed.

Have a Holly Jolly...Day of the Dead?

2009-12-28T14:55:00.000-08:00

Christmas this year was awesome! This may be the only year I've ever received what I asked for; in this case a Canon G-10 camera. My hubby is far more sneaky than I thought... So now you'll be seeing snapshots taken by me - not nearly the photo quality of my husband's, but in a much more timely manner. And as you can imagine, I photo'd just about everything from Christmas day.

This pie didn't get eaten; in fact I fished it from the trash to take this pic. A bit like foam rubber, I thought.

We got up so early to open presents (Honey was kicking me out of bed at 7am) there was a lot of free time between present elation and prep for dinner. I think we watched Nostrodamus 2012 (by the way, I'm now pretty convinced the world as we know it will end or just literally end. But even if I'm wrong its a great excuse to recklessly go after your dreams) and Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian, which I didn't care for nearly as much as the first one. Honey helped me start the pork wellington - it came out devine even after too long in the oven. Get the recipe here.

This is before the oven. This is after carving.

This is some of my holiday sparkle. Photo taken by me with the help of a mirror.

Alethea and Darrin joined us for dinner and an impromptu Day of the Dead photo shoot. Alethea was also kind enough to bring some of the most heavenly mac 'n cheese ever and guid-moc-shoe - it's a veggie dish covered in bacon, even my husband ate it. Here are some pics of the make-up session and resulting spectre.

One big happy, albeit strange, family. Unfortunately the pic with Darrin in it was blurry, but he's family anyway :)

The Ol' Days

2009-12-23T18:54:00.000-08:00

I was thinking when I went to bed last night: about this time 8 years ago Honey and I were living out of a Lincoln Towncar in snowy Minnesota. We were so broke we lived off the McDonald’s dollar menu and camped at the construction site where Honey worked. On pay days, we got the cheapest hotel we could find to shower and do laundry. We were cold, hungry, and completely free. I may have been quoted as saying, “You know if we had a van and it wasn’t wintertime, this would be great.” I know for me it was a huge growing experience: I spent most of my days scribbling in journals; we lost everything in a storage unit we couldn’t pay for (I’m still upset about my VitaMix…), the alternator died on the Lincoln… I didn’t have a choice but to suck it up and become stronger.

And then the pendulum began to swing the other way.

Honey got his ‘break-in’ job at state line, then his gig at the Rio. I went back to school and got the gig at Wynn. We were making what we considered ‘bank’; we had the house, a fancy car, the fishing boat…

And here we are now: getting pretty close to the freedom of having nothing to worry about. I can’t say I’m upset by that. As hard as it was in MN, it was also simple. We could all use a little more ‘simple’ in our lives.

If you’re in Vegas any time soon, swing by O’Shea’s on the Las Vegas Strip and check out Acoustic Soul. They’re the only ‘jukebox’ band I’ve ever heard that sings solely by request and they rock. However, there website pics kinda suck – we’re hoping to help them with that.

Got to see Train perform not to long ago. Pat Monahan has recovered from the bronchitis that caused them to cancel performing at Bite of Las Vegas, and they sounded awesome live. The venue though, Pure Nightclub at Caesar’s Palace, totally sucked: standing room only, $9 drinks, and zero access to the bathroom due to stage placement and the crowd. Not a good choice to host a live band.

Anyway, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas. Enjoy it in whatever fashion you can manage. Remember it’s not about the stuff, but the memories and time well spent.