Friday, June 30, 2006
I also think I managed to attract the only two lesbians on the whole beach. Out of all the people lounging around and walking by, the eye of the big man-woman on the beach chair next to me did not leave me or my body for one second; and she was with someone. OK, granted, not someone as cute as me, but still.
Dammit. I guess the haircut IS too short. Either that, or she just really wanted to see my pretty pink toes up close.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I read about them in a local magazine; how they had been in Southern Living and Gourmet magazine and even garnered an appearance on The Food Network. Boy, they must be good.
I ordered the Pulled Pork (hand pulled, apparently) with a side of beans and slaw. I was expecting food from the Gods but I have to say, I know I'm no Rachel Ray, but my experiment on how to eat on $40 a day was just a bust. I mean, I came in under budget, but I didn't have the oh-my-God-that-was-the-best-sandwich-I-ever-had-Rachel-Ray-experience type of experience. I just wasn't very impressed by the food. I'm sad about this fact because it's supposedly the best BBQ in all of Alabama. Now, I haven't tried all of the BBQ in Alabama, but still.
Granted, us Yankees don't do what they call "BBQ" down here, so I guess I don't know from good smoked meat. But I do know good food. In fact, they actually use "BBQ" as a noun, not a verb here in the south; as in, "Wanna go get some BBQ?" or, like my friend Lynn said today, "I like me some good BBQ." Don't they know that when you barbecue something, it means you are cooking it over hot coals or on a revolving spit or over some other source of heat? It doesn't become barbecue. Barbecue is the method of how its cooked.
If you have spent even one minute in the South, you will realize very quickly how serious they take their BBQ. In The Brick Pit, they had bumper stickers around the place that said, "This ain't no Dream, it's the real thing" which I think was a slam on Dreamland BBQ, another place just up the block from them. Hmmm. BBQ rivalry?
Only in the South.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Mom: "Which of the dogs, Leo or Wolf, had puppies?"
Me: "I don't think either of them had puppies."
Mom: "Well, I came across this picture of a box of puppies in our garage and I'm thinking that one of them gave birth."
Me: "Well, I don't really remember that. And if they did have puppies, it wasn't because they made them with each other; they were both boy dogs."
Mom: "No, I don't think so. I remember not wanting Leo in the house because she had her period and I didn't want her to get blood all over. I think she was a girl."
Me: "Well, that's just disgusting and I'm pretty sure Leo was a boy dog. And the dogs were never in the house, Mom."
Mom: "Oh yes."
Me: "No, Mom, they were not. The dogs never came into the house. Besides, Leo was an outside dog."
Mom: "Well, they were in the house. Wolf used to sleep in the garage and I remember them being in the house because Wolf used to hump Nannie's leg. I remember my father trying to get him off of her because she was so tiny and he was afraid she'd get hurt."
Well, yes, I can see how my grandfather would be concerned that the dog was humping his wife. In public, no less. And that's about all I needed to hear. I stopped listening at the point where my mother detailed how the dog used to hump my 4' 11" grandmother's leg. Do I really need to know anything more than that?
When I called my brother for his take on the story, he immediately said "Uhh, no, they didn't have puppies. They were both boy dogs."
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Later in the afternoon, on my way back to Mobile, I stopped to tour the beautiful Bellingrath Gardens. I got there just before the rain started, so I was able to take a few pictures before the sky got really dark.
This beautiful place was made possible by Walter and Bessie Bellingrath, who created this beautiful sanctuary on 65 acres, leaving behind a wonderful story. Please read about the history of the gardens on the Bellingrath website to get a real taste of these wonderful people who contributed so much to this area with their kindness and generosity.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
During his teen years, the article stated, he earned a dime a bag carrying suitcases at Union Station. Joe Cuhaj, co-author of "Baseball in Mobile," said "Paige had devised a method of carrying several bags in his arms at once. The other porters noted, 'he looks like a walking satchel tree.'" That is how he got the his nickname.
In addition to being what Joe DiMaggio called, "the best and fastest pitcher I've ever faced," it seems that Satchel also had, what I am coming to find out, is a special type of simple, Southern wisdom. I read one of his quotes and the question he asked hit me really hard.
Satchel's question was...How old would you be if you didnt know how old you were?
This is such a great time for me to explore this question but my brain has been in a frenzy trying to come up with an answer; I didn't think it was going to be this hard.
I thought about all the ages I would like to go back to when I realized, as I was typing, that it's not about the age I would like to be but the age I think I am right now. Did you follow that? If someone asked me right now how old I was and I didn't know what year I was born and had no indication of age, what would my answer be?
So, I think I would say, twenty eight. That's the very first number that came to mind. And when I thought more about it, that's the age most people think I am when they guess anyway. Perhaps I just give off that "under thirty" vibe.
In any case, I now have a couple of years before I hit the big three-oh. Yay! My thirties are going to be SO. MUCH. FUN! Most people dread hitting thirty; I am going to revel in it.
Wow. I feel so much younger already. Kinda twenty eightish. Boy, this is fun.
How old are you?
Friday, June 23, 2006
This historic cemetery dating back to 1836 was never segregated. Slaves and servants were sometimes buried in the family plots of the families they served. Blacks could also buy their own plots; many of their graves are concentrated in one area. The cemetery contains the graves of 78 US Colored Troops. The Confederate square 13 also includes the remains of black soldiers.
The brochure describes the cemetery "a masterpiece of Victorian history, funerary art and the beauty of the Alabama Gulf Coast. A journey through the past; beautiful 19th century cast iron, hundreds of unique tombs, crypts and family mausolea, statues and hand carved monuments and headstones.""
They have many historic gravesites, including those of: a beloved 19th century Southern novelist, an early member of the Civil Rights movement, six Confederate Generals, the founders of Mobile's Mardi Gras, Native American Army Scouts, including the son of Geronimo, and many more.
The cemetery covers over 120 acres and contains some 80,000 gravesites.
The variety and array of funerary art on display are breathtaking; from hauntingly mournful angels to elaborate urns, anchors, lambs and crosses symbolizing hope, mercy, forgiveness and memory.
In addition, the many graceful epitaphs are reminders of a more eloquent and devout age. A visit to this fascinating necropolis is an outdoor experience not to be missed.
OK, I have never in all of my life heard the term "funerary art" but now that I know what it means, I just wanted to let you know - the bird on that guys head? NOT funerary art. He was a real bird. Just stopping for a rest, I guess.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Alright, whatever. So big deal, I'm like twenty years too old to be in this pageant, but I almost had you! Admit it. You know you were thinking, I knew it. She has that pageant-y look or maybe you said to a friend, see? I told you that truck driving thing was just a cover. She must get mobbed for autographs in the truck stops or maybe you're just saying to yourself, poor girl, she really is delusional. OK, so maybe I am a wee bit delusional; it could be the heat, you know.
The real reason I'm here is to do a little gig for a few friends of mine, who are audio producers for the show and I am helping them out with a few things. They have been involved with this pageant for years and are very dedicated to their part to make it a success. Actually, I think it's wrong to call it a pageant, it's a Scholarship Program. Well, a scholarship program with a talent, fitness and self-expression category. Oh, and Scholarship money. Let's not forget that.
A local magazine had this to say:
"More than 700,000 women have participated in the festivities, many of them earning money to further their education. Over the last 49 years, AJM, the country's largest scholarship source for women, has awarded $87.7 million in college assistance to high school seniors. Well-known alumnae include Diane Sawyer of ABC's "Good Morning America" (America's Junior Miss, 1963), "Inside Edition" host Deborah Norville (Georgia's Junior Miss, 1976), and NBC's "Will and Grace" star Debra Messing (Rhode Island's Junior Miss, 1986). Less well-known but equally grateful and supportive participants have gone on to success as scientists, lawyers, architects, ministers, human rights advocates, doctors, bankers and a host of other professions."
So, I will be in 'Bama until the first week in July scoping out the next Diane Sawyer and enjoying this TREMENDOUS hotel room by myself. Eddie is still in New Mexico waiting for our truck to be fixed and will have to go back to work as soon as it's done, so it's all about me.
I will be enjoying the hotel pool, the local seafood and even a possible beach or two. I've already explored downtown Mobile, while sweating my ass off in the ninety plus degree weather with a huge dose of humidity thrown in. I'm thinking I won't even do my hair tomorrow since I wind up having to wring the sweat out of it every twenty minutes anyway.
See? Told you I was pageant material. If only the judges could see me. I'd have that college money in my pocket by the end of week!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
I don't think I need to say anything more.
Well, except maybe; Now Is The Time To Fear Procreation.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Birthday: Sometime in the Fall
Birthplace: New York
Current Location: Homeless Vagabond
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 5' 8"
Right Handed or Left Handed: Right
Your Heritage: Southern Italian
The Shoes You Wore Today: Flip Flops
Your Weakness: Sephora
Your Fears: That I will never learn how to really listen well
Your Perfect Pizza: New York Made (Plain or Sicilian)
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: Continue my weight loss, still learn Italian and buy a house.
Your Most Overused Phrase on an instant messenger: OMG
Thoughts First Waking Up: What should I do today?
Your Best Physical Feature: Lips
Your Bedtime: Always the wee hours
Your Most Missed Memory: Fishing with my father
Pepsi or Coke: Caffeine Free Diet coke
McDonalds or Burger King: McDonald's (but really, Wendy's)
Single or Group Dates: Single
Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: No canned/bottled tea - EVER
Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee: Latte
Do you Smoke: Hell, no!
Do you Swear: Hell, yes!
Do you Sing: At times. And I'm not too bad (except when I'm on a microphone and other people can hear me.)
Do you Shower Daily: Yes, if I'm not in the truck. If I am in the truck, not always.
Have you Been in Love: Not sure
Do you want to go to College: No, not really
Do you want to get Married: Yes, I think so
Do you belive in yourself: Yes
Do you get Motion Sickness: No, but I did throw up on my friend once while on a ride at Spring Fling
Do you think you are Attractive: Yes
Are you a Health Freak: Not even
Do you get along with your Parents: Yes
Do you like Thunderstorms: Yes, but lightening is my FAVORITE type of storm
Do you play an Instrument: No
In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: Yes
In the past month have you Smoked: No
In the past month have you been on Drugs: Hell, no
In the past month have you gone on a Date: No
In the past month have you gone to a Mall: Yes, unfortunately
In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: No
In the past month have you eaten Sushi: Fuck no
In the past month have you been on Stage: No
In the past month have you been Dumped: Sort of - via text message
In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: No
In the past month have you Stolen Anything: No
Ever been Drunk: Yes
Ever been called a Tease: Yes
Ever been Beaten up: No
Ever Shoplifted: Yes
How do you want to Die: Around people who love me. But hopefully, not by their hand.
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: A makeup artist
What country would you most like to Visit: Italy, Romania
Best Clothing Style: Semi-casual
Number of Drugs I have taken: None
Number of CD's I own: About 150
Number of Piercings: None
Number of Tattoos: None
Number of things in my Past I Regret: Two
IN A BOY:
Favorite Eye Color: Blue or Green (with dark hair) or Brown on most anyone
Favorite Hair Color: Brown
Short or Long Hair: Short
Height: 6'0 - 6'5"
Weight: Over 225
Monday, June 19, 2006
International House Of Pancake Girlfriends. Yes, you heard me right. Although, it could also be I.H.O.P.B to represent boyfriends too.
My single friend (yes, from the last post), recently informed that what she needs in order to get her over the break-up hump, is a "Pancake Girlfriend"
Someone to go out for pancakes with? Food? What??? I was perplexed. I didn't quite know what she meant; until she explained.
"Have you ever made pancakes?" she said.
"You know how the first one is always crap? It never comes out right? You either burn it or it is lopsided and it doesn't cook all the way? It's too thin and crepe like or just a big blob of pancake dough?"
"And you always wind up throwing it away?"
"Well" she said, "that's the Pancake Girlfriend. She's the one you throw away before moving on to the really good ones."
"Ohhhhhh. Now I get it."
I think I'm gonna fuck with her head and make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
I found myself to be one of the rare "Lipsticks" in a sea of "Butches". Apparently, we are quite the commodity. Got lots of stares; I guess they liked my lipgloss and my cleavage. My "date" assured me I was the best looking girl in there, as she snuggled up to my elbow. Gee, she really knows how to make a gal feel good.
The night was fairly uneventful, as neither of us scored, but we did get to see a great band called 3 a.m. Local, with three women singers, they harmonized on some great original work and also did some fantastic covers. It was definitely a relaxed, fun atmosphere and worth the trip downtown. Perhaps next time we'll be bold enough to dance. I need to help my friend out in any way possible, right? And what better way than helping her move on?
Oh, and just for your information, and I'm specifically talking to Mike here, real lesbians aren't anywhere NEAR as hot as you imagine them to be.
Not a one.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
I bought this thinking, oh great. a wand! Wow. I can get the lip area, possibly a hair or two on the chin, maybe create a delicately arched brow. And how much easier can it be? It's a WAND.
Forget it. I might as well have poured molasses with Gorilla Glue mixed in on my face. I was a sticky green glob. Good thing this shit washes off with water! The box says that the reverse side of the wand includes a "handy" travel mirror. Who the hell would remove facial hair while moving? Do you really need a pocket sized travel mirror to remove facial hair??
I don't even see an 800 number on this box. Lucky for them, because I would call Australia in to tell them what I think of the hairy down under bitches that hawk this shit on TV.
And to think they sell something called "Naughty Nad's" for your nether regions. Do they really think I want to fashion a lightening bolt, as they indicate on the box, down THERE with THIS???
I'd wind up with a balding version of Flash Gordon; all patchy and crooked, and quite possibly find myself wondering how to get my thighs unstuck.
Friday, June 16, 2006
My boyfriend can cook. Really cook.
So far, I've heard that while in New Mexico visiting his parents, he has made Chicken Cacciatore, Chicken Pot Pie (with a crust from freakin' SCRATCH!!!), Steaks on the grill, pasta, breakfast....the list goes on and on.
I have never seen him make his own sandwich, let alone pie crust from scratch. In the truck, he can barely put a bag of popcorn in the microwave! Oh what a wicked web we weave, when we practice to deceive.
He is SO going to pay for this when I get back on the road. Now when I drive, he will be cooking!
Hmmm....I think I smell a cooking show in the works. Trucker Treats. Hey, does anyone have the number to The Food Network??
Thursday, June 15, 2006
The first thing I notice about a man is...his height.
I like a man who is...tall, witty, smart and smells good.
I get weak when a man...is a good kisser, feathers his breath over my body just right and oozes sensuality.
My favorite love song is...don't have a favorite, but I love R & B or Jazz for "mood" music.
If I could warn a man about something, it would be...that I like to get my way.
A Northern (as opposed to Southern) woman always...expects more from her man.
The perfect kiss should be...more lip, less tongue.
A kiss shouldn't be...a tonsilectomy.
The best present I've ever gotten from a man is...the chance to truly be myself.
I'd marry a man if I could find one who...would ask me. OK, maybe not just anyone.
My first crush was...Jimmy Licardi. For some reason, the overalls didn't turn me off.
I got my first gray hair at...gray hair? What is that?
The most I've ever paid for a haircut is...$60
My worst habit is...Ed said I don't have any bad habits. I like that answer. I'm going with it.
I wish I were a better...listener.
My mother always told me...feelings aren't right or wrong; they just are.
Nothing relaxes me like...a movie, a nap or Barnes and Noble.
When I'm feeling down, I...talk to my family and friends. Incessantly.
My stage persona is different than the real me in that...I will often take on hurting myself over hurting others that I love or care about.
Men are crazy about my...breasts.
I can't wait to see...my breasts. No, I'm kidding. I can't wait to see the world.
In college I was...distracted and unfocused.
I'm sorry I didn't...finish college or pursue modeling.
I need to change...my aversion to exercise.
My favorite holiday is...Thanksgiving.
My words to live by are...Laugh. A lot.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
First, we have a conversation that never wavers. It is always the same; she is very white and she doesn't tan (except she thinks she does, so shhhh, don't tell her). Every time we are sitting there waiting for our chance in the cancer booth, I turn to her and say, "Why don't you just give me your money and pretend you were in the booth for eight minutes?" And let me tell you, eight minutes is a craaazzzy day for her; usually, she can usually only stand six.
Yet she looks at me like I have three heads and I look at her the same way because I'm thinking, in the one of her three heads, she actually thinks she's getting tan.
After we have that conversation and a quick laugh, we people watch. Oh, the people there are to watch. It's amazing the cross section of society you see in the tanning salon. Men and women, young and old, fat and thin, tall and short, gay and straight and even the prim and proper to the pierced and tatooed.
I am truly amazed. I didn't think this many people went tanning. I saw an old man the other day that walked out looking like he had already been in the sun for 150 years and I was thinking, why?
But, since I'm one of them, I can't really pick too much. I just walk out of there knowing that I got my money's worth. I'm Italian and can tan from a desk lamp that's too bright.
The only pleasure I get is that the heat is over in twelve minutes and I don't have to go home afterwards and fish sand out of my bathing suit and ass crack.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
She rushed to the television the minute she saw this creature move. Her nose was so close to the screen, I thought for a split second she smelled something. Then I thought, It's a TV, it doesn't have smell. Right? Her ass was in a perpetual wiggle, just waiting for the moment to launch, catch this thing and then most likely, drop it at my feet like a big 'ol prize.
Before I knew it, she was lunging at the screen. Barking like crazy, tongue hanging out of her mouth half crazed and panting like she was really going to get something.
And to think, they said if I left the house I could leave her alone watching TV. Can you imagine what I would have come home to???
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Well, I just found out who; single women who live with cats. Or dogs. Someone that has no need for another cup of coffee.
Whether by choice or not, having a coffee machine that only spits out one at a time might just tell you something.
Either you're a Diva who hates to share or you're just really pathetic.
I'll let you know how it turns out. In the meantime, I need to go make myself a cup of coffee. The dogs are driving me nuts.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
After saying a brief word to the heavens to make sure all of the accident victims were okay, I began to take in my surroundings. The neighborhood was really cute, with a lot of little fifties looking, bungalow type homes. It was a little run down, but it had a lot of potential.
After thirty molasses slow minutes of snaking through this neighborhood, we turned onto this road:
I was thinking, what a cute name for a street, and a smile came to my lips. Then I passed by this builiding, and if you can read the sign, you'll see it says "Clown Cars Repair Shop". Who would've known they had their own shop? I wonder what kind of problems clowns bring their cars in for? "I don't know what's wrong. I used to be able to get 26, 27 people in this car. Now I can only fit 18."
On the wall next to the bay door is this sign (sorry, a little blurry):
Interesting group of names. As I passed the building, I saw an old sign for The Shriner's Circus. I wonder how Mr. Nasty and No Buns fared at those events; I'm kinda thinking it's hard to even tell the difference between the clowns and the Shriners in the first place.
Seriously, people. Have you seen those Shriner hats???
Friday, June 09, 2006
Here at my temporary digs, we have a lot of creatures in our cul-de-sac. Dogs we live with, cats that roam the neighborhood and an occassional mayfly that gets in the house and freaks me out because it looks like a mosquito on steroids.
Today I was watching the neighbor cats stalk some prey. This one, Amethyst, with the green fire in her eyes, had just captured a mole. I watched her sneak up on it, pounce and then carry it to a private area to torture it some more. She was looking around like the crazed feline that she is, making sure no one was watching. Oh, but I was. Check her out:
Then we have Frank, a pretty albeit devious one, just sitting by and watching the whole thing as I was. He was very intent on what was going on with 'ol Amethyst and I could tell by the way he continued to stare and then cock his head, that something was amiss.
Amethyst turned her back for a second, and boom! Frank moved in. As you can see, he picked up where Amethyst left off and took her prey back to his own yard. Didn't turn back, didn't show any remorse, just walked away like nothing happened.
I got a real kick out of watching this transpire. Down here in the South, I'm learning that being on the front porch makes for an interesting evening. And I'm also thinking Marlin is lurking around the corner laughing somewhere; and probably saying to himself, Boy, this chick is easily entertained, isn't she?
Thursday, June 08, 2006
The same thing can be done with people. Sometimes, you just meet a diamond in the rough. A person you know has more inside than they are letting you see. So, you carve and you probe and you buff. You find that little something special. Draw it out. Make it beautiful. Highlight it. Let it shine. Watch it begin to glow.
Even if that person doesn't know what is on the inside, if you are gifted, you can reach deep down and bring the fire out. Highlight their good qualities and minimize their flaws. Make them feel like they are worthy and precious. Cradle them in the Tiffany setting of your hands and mind and heart.
Be a human jeweler and watch how a diamond can truly become a girl's best friend.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
It was a delivery of flowers, for me! The delivery woman wouldn't get out of the van. She was afraid.
I know Trace is a Rottweiler, but how could you possibly be afraid of that face??
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
I've had several friends lately who are having relationship issues or have broken up with their partners. And now, after the fact, I have been hearing stuff that I never knew existed.
Why don't we tell the whole truth when seeking advice, telling a story or even complaining about our relationships; is it because we don't want to make our partners look bad or we don't want to make ourselves look bad? I think it must be the latter. We must wonder to ourselves, what does it say about me?
If you happen to have a mate with unfavorable qualities, a mate that you obviously chose to date, live with or marry and someone finds out about qualities in them that have never really surfaced, what does that say about you? That you can't make good choices? That you put up with unacceptable behavior? That you didn't see the signs early on that you can see very clearly right now?
I understand it's not always easy to tell the truth about these things, especially when the people you share most of these things with are your closest and dearest friends or your family members. They are already biased toward you and certainly wouldn't stand for someone not treating you as they think you should be treated.
The other person you have to worry about is yourself. You know when behavior is unacceptable. You know when you have asked someone to make some changes and they don't. You know what its like to cringe inside when your mate says or does something that you think makes you, or them, look bad. Yet, you let it happen. In fact, you not only let it happen, but you often cover up for it. You bring up all their good qualities or what they did for you recently that shows they "aren't really like that" or how much you love them and that it's okay when they have a bad day once in a while. It's not okay though, when that bad day never ends.
And then, you break up, and your view about them changes. You start to talk about all of the things you didn't like. The reasons you think the relationship ended. The things you will look for more closely in the next person. How crappy you felt because you knew it was happening and you let it. You are starting to have some clarity and you realize how it must look.
I understand that people are not perfect. That is precisely my point. It's not a bad thing to tell your confidants what is really going on, especially when you're confiding in them for a reason. If you think enough of them to even go to them for advice or guidance in the first place, you must trust their opinion on some level. Why not tell them everything that factors into the reason you are seeking them out? Tell them where your confusion or tension or ambivalence stems from. It's easier for them to guide you and it is easier on yourself if you have all of the facts before making a decision.
As it states in the Bible, "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." (John 8:32 NIV)
Monday, June 05, 2006
A girl. Friend.
A girl who happens to be a lesbian.
A lesbian-who-just-broke-up-with-her-girlfriend kind of lesbian.
Where is all of this going?
Well, today she informed me that I am sixty-percent lesbian. How she came up with that percentage I can only guess. She's already told me that I make a great wife. I have been cooking, leaving her notes in the morning for her to remember to take leftovers for lunch and even found it in my heart to accept the other woman in her life; her Rottweiler, Trace Jeanell.
Don't worry, I'm not crossing to the other side; that's all I need in addition to all the other shit my mind has been going through lately. I've already told her I can't handle being hit on by a woman right now, especially when my boyfriend is sooooo far away.
And yesterday, after we went tanning, I was planning on getting my hair cut a little shorter than it already is, but then she told me that if I did, I would be in the seventy-fifth percentile.
I guess I'll wait on that haircut and concentrate more on the hot guy who was cutting the neighbor's lawn yesterday.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Chips? Did they say chips??? She turned to me, the hurt in her eyes glaringly evident. She was so offended. Could you blame her?
This is what happens when you are socializing in a new circle of friends; they don't know you. They are unaware of your talents. They don't know that you make a killer peach cobbler or whip up amazing spinach and artichoke dip or do things with cocktail weenies that border on illegal. It makes you feel so insignificant and invisible in a sense; who is going to notice the person who walks in with chips??
What the hell is next, asking her to bring a bag of ice? Now that is cold.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
I truly feel like I'm resort hopping. First, I was staying with my best friend at her "resort" home where the cooking is so good she could win a James Beard award, sitting on the front porch is like being at Tara listening to the sounds of the South and watching the world meander by and the laughter just flows like a broken faucet.
Now I have this; a richly decorated and spotlessly kept oasis of peace, centrally located to all things important, with ice cold air conditioning and a fully stocked fridge (except here, I actually have to cook myself! lol). In addition to that, the owner is a talented artist who makes everything from jewelry and silk drapery to paintings and websites. Just amazing.
Here is a sampling of her artwork:
Either he really misses me or he's done something reeaaalllly wrong. Roses???
Gotta love him though, either way!
Friday, June 02, 2006
I dislike when people are chronically late. I am always on time.
I dislike people who do drugs. I have never tried them.
I dislike hypocrites. I am not one.
I dislike a know-it-all. I will come right out and say, "I don't know much about this, but I think..."
But then my Aunt, who I always thought was very wise, often says: "Everybody Is Everything"
Your girlfriend is being bitchy? Your best friend is moody? Your mother is a mensch? Your co-worker is a brown-noser? Your boyfriend is acting weird? Your classmate is getting on your nerves? Your husband is being an asshole? Your sister-in-law is saccharine sweet? Your mother-in-law doesn't like you?
At one time or another, as much as you think you are not any of the things you see in others, it is most likely inevitable that you are. Sometimes. Even if only once. However brief, it's probably there.
Everybody is everything.
(Really though, I'm never late.)
I whipped my head around wondering why on earth they were talking about me, as this is how I've spent virtually the past three weeks; and according to my friend, how she has spent almost all of her life.
Apparently, I've been taking on quite a bit lately and possibly have gotten crushed under the weight of it all. Now that things have let up a bit, I'm still a little dazed.
I don't know which is worse, my condition or the next guy on TV they were talking about; the one who was "stunned and badly shaken."