Manifest Green

Folksy, Country Mood Music

I dunno, I guess I am just in that type of mood today.  Of course, some people might call it hippie/hillbilly music, and that’s cool too!  So, for your enjoyment, I present…

FOLKSY, COUNTRY MOOD MUSIC!

Atlanta Breaking News

 

The same company involved in this accident is also involved in today's accident.

Flippy cars and concussions

It has been one hell of a week.  Couple of weeks.  And day.  Today.  Crazy.

I slept really hard last night.  Once I was asleep, I was out.  Totally out.  Normally the alarm wakes me up and then I lay there for a bit.  Or I will wake up at the ass crack of dawn and watch the news.  Not today.  Today I don’t know what woke me up, but when I did I shot out of the bed to start getting ready for work.  I did not want to be awake.  I had to struggle to get my eyes open when I was showering.  And I totally could have taken a nap on my way to work.  Except I drive to work and I doubt the other drivers on the road would have appreciated it. 

So today went on and on.  It was pretty quiet in the shop today.  Even George, another shop manager, called me to chit chat because he was bored.  That’s a sad day.

And then….

Excitement?

One of my regulars came in with his mom and sister.  He was cutting off all of his lovely blonde locks to donate to Locks of Love (sweet boy!).  His sister was bouncing around like crazy, taking pictures of him getting his haircut.  Then she got really quiet.  She was standing behind me next to her mom just watching.  Then all of the sudden there was a gasp from Thomas.  Tashia said something.  And then there was a loud THUNK!  I turned around, her mom turned around, right as she hit the floor.  Like, this kid totally passed out and went straight down like a tree, smacking her head on floor.  Her shoes flew off her feet.  I tossed my comb and shears onto the counter and started to help her up, but her mom got to her first.  It scared the shit out of me.  Her mom lifted her head up and asked her if she was ok.  The little girls eyes were rolling around in her head and she was slurring.  I was about to call 911, but her mom told me not to (?) and said that she was fine.  Uh, your kid just fell back stiff as a board and bopped her head really fucking hard and you think she is ok?  I ran to the back and got a cup of water and sent Thomas to the restaurant next door for ice.  And the woman had me go back to finish her son’s haircut.  I was a nervous wreck, thinking, “What the hell kind of mom reacts like that?”  Tashia had it right that if she were the mom then her son would have had to put up with half a haircut for a bit.  Sometimes people amazing me, and not in a good way, with where their priorities are.  Anyhoo, when thinking back on it I believe she was standing with her legs super straight and that would be why she passed out.  I hope she is ok.

I found out also today that there was a fight outside of my complex last night.  I knew I had heard the police and ambulance sirens, but I didn’t know what was going on.  When Brett returned from his hockey game he said that some guy was laying out on the sidewalk.  Well, today  when Shane came in he told us about what had happened.  And here is the story:  Shane, his partner Chris and their roommate Matt all went out to Burkhart's (one of the gay bars across the street).  When they left they came up to the red light and, of course, stopped.  These guys pulled up in another car, got out and proceeded to start hitting their car (Shane’s car, not their own).  Chris and Matt decided to be badasses and step out of the vehicle to stop the doods.  Then a brawl began.  And at some point Chris hit his leg on something or something hit his leg and dislocated his knee.  Did you know a knee could be dislocated?  I didn’t.  Anyhoo, Shane called 911, the other guys drove off and Chris just laid on the sidewalk in pain.  I told Shane they shoulda gone over to Los Margaritas for the AID Atlanta party and then they wouldn’t have been at that light.  Shane said he wanted to go there, but they didn’t.  Then he said he didn’t even want to go out, but he did.  I want to know what the hell was up with the whole situation.  I mean, why would anyone just get out of their car and start beating on someone else’s car?  That’s just silliness.

AND THEN…

On my way home from work I am driving down Peachtree and bopping to the music:

When I see two ambulances and some police cars blocking two lanes on the opposite side of the road.  What is going on?  Well, there was one car that was up on the sidewalk.  There was another car with a crushed hood.  THEN there was an SUV….LAYING ON IT’S SIDE!  On it’s side.  The speed limit on Peachtree is 35 mph.  Judging by the other two vehicles and the SUV, someone was not following the speed limit.  Or maybe it was a soccer mom painting her nails and chit chatting to her therapist that caused the whole thing. 

It was at that point that I realized I just wanted to get the fuck home.

So I am here.  And happy.

I just remembered something that I keep meaning to mention, yet I don’t think i ever do:  I want a new job.  I want a job that I can just go in and do my job and that is that.  I actually don’t even want to go in anywhere.  I want a job where I can just be  a hermit forever.  I keep saying that as soon as I write my book I am gonna quit my job.  But first I need to figure out what to write about.  Obviously not my memoirs.  No one would buy them.  I mean, I can’t even get someone to come to this site to learn about the importance of cutting up the plastic around the 6-packs.  Maybe I could write a coloring book.  That’d pretty cool!  I could just draw pictures of flowers or something and sell the pictures as a coloring book. 

Would you buy it?

I’m not even sure what to title this

What a week, eh?  Three celebrity deaths in one week.  Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Billy Mays.  And I know several other “celebrities” also, but these are three that people know.  How crazy is that?  I wonder if all of the A-listers are sitting around staring at each other wondering who will be next…

Anyhoo, yeah.  So it has been a full past coupla days.  First of all Catherine and David came down from their mountain on Wednesday for a visit.  We took David from a level 2 to a level 10, which is pretty awesome.  I cut Catherine’s hair and hope she likes it.  I fed them and loved them.  We went out to the pool and I took some pictures.  I miss them!  So, pictures of their visit:

 

And yes, the camera was underwater.  How freaking cool is that?  A camera that I don’t hafta worry about dropping in the pool or the lake!  Sweet.

Anyhoo, Friday was a totally different story.  Brett’s grandmother died on Tuesday morning and her funeral was Friday.  I never met her, but I heard a lot of stories about her.  The service was nice.  Brett has a lot, and I mean A LOT, of family.  I don’t know how many people were there for the service, but the procession line was pretty long.  After the funeral some of us went to Ruby Tuesday for lunch and I got to see the staff freak out trying to figure out what to do with a group of 17.  It worked out.  I thought about it and wondered why food and funerals go together.  I mean, really.   After my grandmother’s funeral Brett and I stopped off and ate.  And ohmygosh I just realized we ate at a Ruby Tuesday.  I think I wanted Applebee’s, or probably just anything, but all we could find was a Ruby Tuesday.  Wow.  Bizarre.

So that was Friday. 

Saturday we drove up to Blue Ridge for his family’s reunion.  Now that was even more people.  And his family loves to talk.  I heard stories about people who died a century ago.  I heard stories about Brett’s grandmother.  I got hugged by a bunch of old ladies.  I watched one old woman handing out fivers to the little kids and wondered if she would hand one to me if I gave her a hug.  Eventually my ass started hurting from sitting on an uncomfortable chair for so long and Brett and I went ahead and skedaddled on out.  Into the mugginess.  All I wanted was ice cream.  And I don’t eat ice cream normally.  But it was good.  So was the smoothie I had after.  Nom nom nom.  I bought a cute little dragonfly from some place there, but I am not entirely sure what I am supposed to do with it.  It’s just kinda sticking out of a Bionical box right now, which is fine. 

Isn’t that adorable?

What else?  Pretty much we just walked around and looked in a few stores.  So I will share some pictures with you!

The empty building used to be a quilt shop (look at the front) and “The Pub” was just really amusing.  Like it’s the only one.  And actually, I think it may have been.  We went into a store called “The Bear Store” or something like that, and I came across these shirts that I had to take a picture of because….well, you take a look:

Anyhoo, after we left the little downtown area we went to a famer’s market type thing:

 

They sold mayhaw jelly there.  I have never heard of mayhaw.  I didn’t have a clue what a mayhaw was until just a moment ago when I had to look it up.  You wanna know what it is?  It’s a fruit.  It’s a red fruit.  It looks like a cranberry to me.  But whatever.

We ended up driving home through a thunderstorm.  Yay, rain!

So today I we had more visitors!  Chv had called to invite us to brunch, but I told him to go ahead and eat, but to come swim after.  He brought his roommate, Eric, with him.  And he brought Estes with him!  Yay!  I haven’t seen Estes in years and years.  Anyway, they swam.  I took pictures:

 

After swimming we all went to Los Margarita’s for lunch.  It was loud and fabulous.  AID Atlanta was having a dance party/fundraiser going on out on the patio and what seemed like every gay man in Atlanta was milling around the place with little drinkypoos and shaking their asses.  It was fun, just unbelievably loud. 

So I shall leave you with these little gems:

GOOD NIGHT!

Check him out!

Really, you should totally check out Sebastian.  The only reason he puts up with my shit is because he is all the way across the Atlantic somewhere in Queen's English land.  So he can't spit on me.  Or give me dirty looks.  So it's all  copacetic.

Guess What Time It Is? It's Time For TMI THURSDAY!

Queenie Lilu says:

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, "how many readers can I estrange THIS week??" TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else's!***

Oh, the grossities and nastiness.  I can’t top Lilu's frightening allegory.  Oh, no.  Not at all.  But I will tell me tale regardless. 

This is the story of why I quit drinking cream and sugar in my coffee.  Just thinking about this makes me gag.  *shudder*

Back in high school there weren’t a whole bunch of places to hang out during the non-school hours.  The choices were Arby’s, Classic Cue (guess what kinda place that is!), McDonald’s, the probation officer’s office, or your/someone else’s home.  That town had nothing going on.  I mean, everyone went to Shoney’s on Saturday mornings for breakfast because there was nowhere else.  Anyway, at some point the fashionable art of drinking coffee finally visited our podunk town and it became super chic even before Majorbucks settled there.  So the places to go and drink the stuff and act all grownup was limited to Waffle House or Dunkin Donuts.  The former being where this revolting relation is set.  So, onward!

Setting:  a booth by the window in Waffle House late at night, about 11 p.m. or so.

Players:  myself and a couple of other people, but I honestly can’t remember who they were, just the incident itself.

And….Action!:  I remember I ordered hash browns (in the ring, the same way I always order them) and some raisin toast (lots of butter)  and grits (cheese, please!) and coffee (‘cause it’s cool, yo).  And the coffee was delivered.  At this point the idea of coffee was a somewhat foreign concept to me.  I thought only adults drank it.  My mom told me that coffee and cigarettes would stunt my growth (she was waaaay right about the cigarettes).  So I just never drank it.  But now I was 17!  I was an adult, dammit!  I could drink coffee!  But I didn’t have the first clue what to do with it.  So I watched my friends.  Sugar.  Cream.  Stir.  Done!  Easy enough.  So I put in a coupla packs of  sugar.  I poured in some cream.  I stir, stir, stir (something about the sound of the spoon clinking in the cup makes you feel soooo much more grown, OMG).  And I take a small sip.  Sweet, creamy goodness.  But hot.  Very hot.  Sip of water.  Ah, that feels nice.  Chat, chat, chat.  Stare out the window.  Feel coffee cup.  Feels a bit cooler.  Awesome.  Take sip of coffee.  Great!  Take swig of coffee.  Fantas…..what the fuck?  What is….WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??????  Spit coffee back into cup.  To this day I haven’t the faintest was it was.  But I will describe it.  Yes, yes I will.

Whatever “it” was I know it was slimy.  Gooey.  Gloppy.  And I could only figure it came from the cream.  I could only assume that maybe, perhaps, someone hocked a loogie in the cream.  It had a very loogie consistency.  AND IT HAD BEEN IN MY MOUTH!

I ran.  I ran so far away.  To the back of the diner and into the bathroom where I propelled barf (such a fantastic word!) in the toilet, on the toilet, around the toilet, possibly above the toilet (though I can’t make a promise that last one happened because, unfortunately, I wasn’t exactly taking the time to look up). 

Now I will still sometimes put cream and sugar in my coffee.  But I cannot ever, never, ever finish that cup.  I think back to that incident and start gagging and getting grossed out all over again.

I only thought about this today because I made Miz Catherine my “special” coffee (heavy whipping cream, brown sugar) this morning and made a cup for myself.  Gag.

Anyone want cream and sugar?

What’s going on around here?

Earlier, when I was linking up the post about going to visit Miranda's website I got to thinking about how I wished I had someone who knew enough about how to do everything so that I could learn easier.  Then I realized that I kind of wanted to go onto her website and start customizing it, even though that would probably be wrong and not very nice, huh?  So I decided that I had better learn how to customize this (which, it turns out, it pretty easy).  Soooo.....

...this blog is going through changes.  And I didn't realize at first that everything I did was being sent straight though.

So, yeah.  If it looks a little wonky, it's all my fault.  I'm 'sperimentin'!

Introducing.....

The brand spanking new website of (drum roll, please) my dear friend Miranda!  It still has a few kinks I am attempting to work out (but we all know how kinks can be, especially in those teeny tiny necklace chains when you have to use two needles to try to get them out), namely trying to figure out why on earth I cannot get the domain name to completely take over, but at least it is totally pointing at the right place now.

Anyhoo, seeing as she is an artist, an awesome jewelry designer, a gardener and an all around wonderful, beautiful person, you should totally visit her site.  The name of it is Earth Gypsy Studio and she is just getting started on it, playing around with all of the fun stuff she can do.

Go on now!  Go visit!  

Again, it is Earth Gypsy Studio at www.earthgypsystudio.com. 

She is waiting...  

Deep Breath

I have been trying to hook up Miranda's website, but it is being stupid for me.  Alls I wanna do is forward the stupid domain name to the stupid website and be done with it.  But I keep getting a stupid error message on the stupid whois website and it's being mean and stupid.

Enough of the word stupid.

Another thing aggravating me today is passing by the trash compactor in the parking lot of my complex.  The trash has been emptied, but the recycling hasn't.  Why?  Because the City of Atlanta has decided to pick up trash every week as usual, but pick up the recycling every other week.  Which is dumb. 

 

"Hey, let's talk about greening our city and getting people to recycle!"

"Awesome fucking idea, Bob (this may or may not be the doods name that came up with the idea, I really don't know.....let's pretend)!  Come on!  We can start now!"

"Super cool!  Oh, wait..."

"What's the matter, Bob?  It's a great idea!"

"Well, the city is running out of money, so let's just cut it back a bit so we don't have to take a pay cut.  I was planning on buying little Annie (may or may not be Bob's daughters name...I dunno) a new Porsche for raising her History grade to a D."

"Oh, yeah.  That's true Bob (who is this guy talking to Bob?  We will just assume his name is Herbert).  I was planning on taking all four of my H3's to get superfly detailed this weekend and buying the yacht that my  wife, Bunny (Herbert's wife's name is Bunny.  Totally), saw in "Horribly, Filthy Rich People Weekly" magazine.  Plus Carl (Herbert's son) is still counting on becoming a Carla, so yeah....I can't get a pay cut either."

"Well, Herbert (oh finally!  He used his name!), what say you that we have recycling picked up every other week, but still pick up the trash every week?"

"Damn, Bob!  You are a smart man!  Yeah, who gives a fuck about recycling anyway?  HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Lot's of back slapping, knee pounding, and a long, loving look exchanged between the two.

And....scene.

 

It pisses me off.  Really.  Brett and I have finally gotten into the whole separating stuff to recycle and actually taking it and placing it into the correct bins (Brett does that, not me.  I totally can't get my princess hands dirty by touching an icky garbage bag).  And now they cut it down.  I don't necessarily blame Bob and Herbert.  I, because I am an ass like this, blame Miz Hurly Burly Shirley.  Yup, Shirley Franklin.  Our wonderful (I typed "wonderfuk" first...tee hee) mayor (nope, not gonna capitalize that).  This woman has not taken a pay cut yet.  In fact, she is such an a-hole that I remember years ago when she decided to cut bar closing times back to 2 a.m. she kept the bars in Underground Atlanta open until 4 a.m.  Why?  because she had (and maybe still does) an interest (see: $$$) in those bars.  And, I would like to point out, that even though she claimed on a radio show that all the stupid flowers that she wears on her stupid jackets 9there's that word again) are gifts from people, I don't believe it.  Unless...hmmmm....are they "gifts" from "admirers" that maybe are trying nudge her a little bit?  I wonder if it's like when you get pulled over and you slip a tenner to the cop under your license in hope that it will be enough to buy him a coupla boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts?  Where am I going with this?  Like, when someone "gifts" her a flower, is there a tenner under that?  I mean, she might not like donuts, but maybe....

Anyhoo, yeah.  I think that is all that is annoying me today.  Of course, it isn't quite 4 o'clock yet!

TMI Thursday-Read At Your Own Risk

As Queen Lilusays:

""Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, "how many readers can I estrange THIS week??" TMI story about your life. Or hell,bout someone else's!"

I am in no way, shape or form a good role model.  For anyone.  God forbid I ever have a daughter.  She will have one of the worst people to look up to.  Not saying I am a horrible person, just...well, lets just say I like my beer, my cigarettes (though I am attempting to quit those), covering my body with tattoos, and I have had, in the past, some questionable jobs.  But one of the biggest ongoing choices I make has to do with diets.  I have been on one diet after the other since I was 12 years old and my father's father (I don't call him Grandpa) told me I was disgustingly fat.  I think that day is one of the last that involved sitting at the table and eating with my family.  I pretty much went on a starvation diet after that, eating a Twix bar and  Dr. Pepper in the morning and that was all.  I was on track team, I played soccer, I took aerobics classes and ballet/tap/jazz classes.  I weighed maybe, MAYBE, 95 lbs in high school.  In fact, that's how much I weighed until I discovered beer and liquor.  Then I think I gained about 15 lbs, which, of course, made me unhappy. But since then (110 lbs) I have gained another 30 lbs, putting me in the proper weigh zone for my height, but also making me very, very unhappy.

I have tried all sorts of diets, along with my coworkers, including (but not limited to) the cabbage soup diet, the lemonade diet, Weight Watchers, Hydroxycut and alli.  And the last one, the alli, is where this story begins.

The way alli works is you take a pill with or within one hour of your three biggest meals.  You are limited to 13 grams of fat per meal.  The alli blocks something like a 1/4 of the fat from your food (I could be wrong about this fraction, but lets go with it for now) so that your body won't absorb it.  This causes slick poos.  Not like a horrible mess of a poo, just much, much easier to pass.  If, by some chance, you happen to eat more than 13 grams of fat in your meal then it creates what the makers of alli like to call "treatment effects" which is described as "oily or fatty stools" and what looks like "pizza oily" in the toilet.  And they aren't kidding.  I didn't want pizza for a while after these episodes.  I kinda don't want any for a while now, ew.

Anyway, if others out there are like me, then there is not such thing as limiting fat grams, period (hence the weight gain...or maybe its just because I became lazy, I dunno...).  But after the first day, nothing.  No treatment effects!  I figured that maybe it was absorbing all of the fat and I would be a size 0 in no time.  Oh, I was wrong.  I was so very wrong.

I started it the day before my next day off and in the end (ha!) it was a good idea.  The next morning I woke up, did my usual morning thing and guess what?  There was pizza oil involved.  But it got so much worse.  In fact, because I ate such fatty foods like hamburgers and pasta and all the day before, the pill had to work overtime and what it created can only be described as what looked like super dark green olive oil.  I wouldn't even let Brett see it, because it was so horribly abmormal.  The booklet didn't say anything about that!  So I started cramming myself with fruit and salad and pickles for the rest of the day.  I was satisfied that I had reversed everything, took my last pill for the day and went to bed.

Next morning, all was good.  Not horrible oil slicks or pizza oil.  Everything was normal.  So I go skipping off to work, confident that all is well.  And I was wrong.

The day went by, all nice how everyday should go, until around noon or so.  This is when I realized that something wasn't feeling right.  I went to the bathroom, figuring, you know, that maybe it was that "special girly time".  But what I found was so terrifying that I just kind of stood there and wondered what I was supposed to do.  The booklet tells women that they may want to wear a pantyliner in case of any oily spotting, but I had overcome that, right? (plus, I got to wondering, are the men folk supposed to wear pantyliners, too, or just Depends?)  Oh no, I had what people in the industry (remember WOW! Potato chips?) like to call "anal leakage" (stop reading here if you need to) and it was bad.  I didn't have gas, I guess it just slowly leaked out all day.  Man, I am thankful for wearing all black, everyday, to the salon.  This woulda been superfly embarassing had I been wearing khaki or white pants. 

Anyway, I cleaned myself up as best I could and kinda slinked out to my office.  My coworker was sitting at her station reading a magazine, but caught me looking around the corner.

Coworker-Why are you staring at me?
Me-(in a whisper) I think I need to go home for a few minutes....
Coworker-Um, ok...
Me-(in a whisper) I believe I am experiencing (makes the quoties with the fingers) "treatment effects"...
Coworker-What treatment effects?
Me-(totally not in a whisper anymore) it looks like a oil tanker carrying only pizza oil just sunk in my underwear!
Coworker-......
Me-I need to go home and wash up and change my clothes....you know, to get rid of the treatment effects from the alli...
Coworker-The alli?  Oh!  Oh!  Ewwwww!  Gross!  I am never taking that!  Oh my god!  Ew!  Go!

Yeah.

I called in another stylist to come in early.  The thought of this is totally turning my stomach right now.
Anyhoo, so yes.  After another day, I was fine.  I learned how to control the leakage, but then I was totally over eating bland fat free food.  So I stopped taking the alli.

Of course, a few months later I decided to try it again, bound and determined to do it right.
Guess what happened?  Yeah, that.  Again.

So the moral of the story?  Don't take alli.

I'm hungry!

Coming soon...

Horribleness.... Really....I'm holding out for grossiness tomorrow and some guilty crap after that. Wow. Talk about too much info, right? I wait on the crappy suff, because its stuff that makes me cry remembering how much of a bitch I was.

Everyone Is Beautiful

I totally ganked this from the Queen of the Internet, Jenny, The Bloggess.  

Watch.  Enjoy.  Believe.

This has been the hardest week to work.  I haven’t the faintest why. 

I guess I just don’t feel like being there.

In fact, I kinda feel like just closing everything off.  Like I did my curtains.  closed, so the world can’t get in.  Well, the TV is on, but the curtains are closed.  My character friends can visit anytime they want.

I think it may just be that I feel overly socialized right now.  The past month has been a lot for me, a person that isn’t a great people person unless I have a few drinky poo’s in me.  And since I tend to do most of my drinking from the comfort of my couch, I get most of my socialization at work.  And that is difficult for me day after day. 

I shoulda been a hermit.

I think it’s the questions that people ask me.  Questions that I think are rhetorical, yet I don’t think the querist believes the question is rhetorical.  These questions include:

1.  Do you feel married?  A.  Um, I dunno..what does a married feeling feel like?

2.  How was the wedding? A.  It was nice (seriously?  What else am I gonna say to this?)

3.  Did you go on a honeymoon?  A.  I feel like I need to answer this by telling them that we got it on like a virgin in a whorehouse.

4.  So, I heard you got married…..?  A.  Open ended not-really-a-question question.  “Yeah, I did.”

5.  Can you take it shorter all the way around?  A.  Why couldn’t you tell me that before I finished up the entire haircut and took the cape off!?!?!?!?

So yeah, I am just tiffy, I guess.

 

Anyway, last night was pretty fun.  Brett and I went to a nerd bar.  Yes, a nerd bar.  It is called Battle & Brew.  It’s a bar with….wait for it….wait for it….video games!  They have computers and more computers and TV's with gaming consoles, a big screen for Rock Star or The Band or whichever it was.  Seriously.  There are places like that in the world.  In fact, here is the link to the place.  And here is the link to view the photos of the place just so you can look immediately at them and know I am totally not lying about it.  I had fun.  We weren’t there too long, but it was long enough for a few beers and Brett got to play some videos games with Brian.  I am not a big gamer.  I will play some Sim2 because, well, you get to be God.  I love building the people and then leaving them to their own devices.  However, if I come back later and they have managed to screw up their lives (I had one couple that beat the crap out of each other constantly and didn’t make the kids go to school.  Child Protective Services entered and took the kids away.  No joke.) I totally kill them off.  I either drown them (get them into the pool and then pause the game, delete the pool ladder, unpause, swim, swim, swim, sw-gurgle, gurgle, gurgle….) or I put them in a small room with a fireplace.  Yeah.  I do like the Wii.  Raving Rabids is pretty fun.  I just can’t do anything that requires eye-hand coordination.  I am one of the clumsiest people known to man.  Really.  I probably shouldn’t be allowed to hold scissors at all, let alone use them on other people.  I don’t know I have managed to go so many years with out doing serious harm to my hands or others eyes, ears, head area in general.  Anyway, the gaming place.  Yeah, it was pretty fun.  And the people are really nice up there.  I can’t remember where I was going with this now.

 

Something that I am very excited about is seeing a friend that I haven’t seen in a loooooooong time.  I miss Miz Catherinia  very mosch.

Very Blurry Picture of a picture of Catherine, circa 1997

 

I miss you so very mosch, but I already said that.  We used to have good times together.  Good times.  I could probably go into some stories here, but I need to pace myself.  Just remember, not everyone can expertly roll someone's head up in a car window and not everyone could possible have a ton of Caboodles filled with more nail polish than could used on all ten toes of the peeps living in Nauru.

 

Anyhoo, I bought some glass to stain, some stained glass stain, and some Sculpey today.  I feel like bein’ CRAFTY!  Yeah, start singing the Beastie Boys.

One last thing.  Catherine gave me an award today!  For being adorable!

I feel loved.

Short, Sweet, AND ADORABLES!

I saw this on Cute Overload yesterday and I just had to share:

My Milk Toof 

It is so freaking adorable.  Each post has a different story, so follow along.  I want a milk toof!

But I want a pink peg leg!

After the fun from this past weekend I am covered, I mean COVERED, in buggy bites.  One was so bad that it bruised.  But Brett thought he would make me all nervous by telling me my leg might fall off.  Ok, he didn’t say that, but I thought it would happen.  And the reason it bruised was because I have been scratching it like crazy.  Here is a horrible coupla pictures of it (horrible because I am in no way a bruise photographer):

It hurts and itches.  Blah!

It was pretty exciting, however, to think about what kind of peg leg I would wear if my leg fell off or if the doctor would have to saw it off.  I decided on a pink one, carved near the top with flames on the bottom.  Brett said he would totally buy me a motorized scooter that was pink with flames, but it would be more ‘spensive because I would want a bike bell AND a horn that plays Dixie really loud.  And some streamers from the handlebars.  And a racing flag on the back.

Anyhoo, I went to the doctor, found out that my insurance is no longer for PPO, but now it’s HMO, which my doctor is not.  When I tried to call the doctors on the list I was told I could set an appointment for next week.  My leg coulda been gone by then!  It could have had an open wound, oozing all over my couch and bed!  So I sucked it up, called Brett nearly in tears, he transferred some dough to my account and I paid the money to see MY doctor.  Who confirmed it was not anything that would cause me to lose my leg.  Once he said that I got all depressed about it.  Because now I want a peg leg.

I can go ahead and whittle it just in case the opportunity to wear a peg leg ever arises.

The other thing I accomplished at the doctor’s office was to get a script for Chantix.  I have told Brett over and over I would quit smoking, but it is hard.  Two of my friends have had success on Chantix (well, one has, the other still smokes because it gives her something to do) so I decided to try it.  It is expensive!  Really.  Over $100 for a month.  That’s more than I spend on cigarettes in a month!  Really.

I just can’t wait for the crazy dreams. 

Anyway, that’s all I have for right now.  So I shall leave this post with a few pictures I took last night, because I totally love taking pictures all the time.

Brett making funnies with his glasses:

   

Scampi in her cozy spot between the couch and the coffee table:

  

Sadie in her cozy spot on top of the dog couch and peellow:

 

Scallop loves having her feets rubbed…she splays her toesies:

 

Scampi with a cracker in her leeps making a sprunchy face:

 

Scallop trying to hatch kitten eggs (notice the amount of Sadie fur on the rug):

A deadly sin (dum dum duuuuuum!)

After visiting with Miranda yesterday, and taking a tour of her garden (which, by the way, I thought was going to be one big plot….but it isn’t…she has several gardens all around her house, in different spots on her land….it’s awesome) I got to thinking today about how I have neglected my little plants.  Well, not neglecting, but not being as nice as I should. 

I blame the rain.  No, really.  The rain made it impossible to take care of them.  I had to keep moving them, then, of course, there is no sunlight, so on and so forth, yada yada yada (interesting…..my spell checker is telling me I spelled yada wrong, which means it doesn’t recognize it, yet it is in the dictionary….how very strange…).  Anyhoo, I decided to do something about it today.

First thing I did was water my inside “seeds” (read: bucket of dirt that nothing is growing out of).  I also covered it with plastic wrap and moved it outside into the sun, hopefully to get things going.  Then I replanted the cacti that Brett had planted.  Three of them are kind sprouting, so I thought if I put them in a big bucket it might help to encourage them to continue on their journey.  Then I remembered to water my aloe.  Whew!  I always forget about the aloe.  It’s a good thing that it likes for the soil to be bone dry before getting more water again.  Then I replanted some strange flowers that I don’t have a clue what they are (isn’t it funny that I plant seeds, fail to properly tag them, then I can’t recall what they are weeks, months, even a year after the fact?).  Then, I replanted my brown eyed susans.  Did I mention that the strange plant from last year that started getting tall this year are brown eyed susans?  No?  Well, they are.  Anyhoo, then I watered everything and took pictures.

So here ya go (not all of the plants, but some!):

Here is the brown eyed susan.  Notice how much taller it is than my nearly dead snap dragons.  I think the snap dragons are coming back, but I’m really not sure.  Remember what the little dood looked like back in March?  Quite a difference, huh?

This is my bleeding heart plant.  It still hasn’t produced buds since I first got it.  I have high hopes.  I have a feeling I may be taking him down to plant in Miranda’s yard soon unless I get him a bigger bucket.

The strange little white sprouts.

 

Some lavender  that Miranda brought for me.

Some chamomile she also brought to me.  Its a bit wilty, but looking much better than it did the other day.

 

Anyhoo, that’s what I have in the way of plants.  I really need to go buy some bigger pots and buckets for them.  I also wish I could plants some veggies out on the balcony without the critters eating them.  I mean, cayenne is great and all, but we didn’t get to eat much of it last year.  I shoulda planted some more this year anyway.  I guess it might not be too late…hmmm……..

 

While I am on here tip-tap-typing, I thought I would bring up another subject, that I have brought up before, but then after reading another great blog I realized that it was something I feel I should bring up again. 

When I first started this blog, what? a year ago I thought I was all up on my high horse and had something to say.  A huge part of it was because I thought that if I preached it then it would become easier to edge into.  And it was.  But I do realize that by gung ho-ing it in the beginning, rather than pacing myself, that I hit a spot where what I believe in has been said and can only be said so many times.  I do, however, learn new things and form new thoughts every so often, therefore I keep this blog up.  But it has definitely changed.  And I am going with the change. 

A lot of sites that I used to sign onto daily and enjoy thoroughly are gone.  And I hate it.  Not because I am all selfish and stuff, but these people had great things to say whether funny or not.  And I respected them as authors and life exhibitionists.  In the past several weeks I have found new sites to keep me busy when I should be working or sleeping (bad blog authors!  BAD!).  And I hope none of them go away. 

I guess what I am saying is that though the content of this website has changed, I will not be going anywhere.  Unless I change the url, which I doubt because I like this name.  And I am totally waiting for the dood from MySpace to offer me a gazillion dollars for the name. 

I like the name.  It’s a reminder of what I started out to do, and what I will continue to do when the opportunity shows itself. 

Otherwise, you are totally stuck having to read about me and look at my millions of pictures.  Suckas!

Miss Karissa’s Birthday Party!

It was party goodness!  And to get you started in on al the picture fun:

Driving down through Downtown Atlanta.  I love the skyline of my city!  And the clouds are awesome!  Doesn’t the third picture look like a painting in the sky?

 

Outside with the little pool and the slip-n-slide.  Wait until you see the video of Miranda trying to go down the thing with dry clothes!

 

I’m not gonna post all of the pictures of her opening her gifts.  Because there are a ton of them .  Anyway, I posted a few cute things, including the sign Miranda made for Karissa’s Garden, a picture of Miss Karissa herself, the fire in the fire pit, and Karissa and her burnt marshmallow…that she would eat…not because it is burnt, but because she hates marshmallows.  And a video of Miranda doing a little dance.

 

Anyhoo, it was a lot of fun.  I hurt my foot on the slip-n-slide, though.  I guess when I was sliding down it on my knees I musta hit a clump of grass underneath it.  With the top of my foot.  On the bone.  It hurts like a mofo.  And doesn’t look so cute, either. 

 

So this morning when I woke up I was all about getting up, making some fresh homemade blueberry sauce to pour over some yummy homemade lemony waffles.  But I just wasn’t feeling it.  I wanted it.  So much.  To taste the yummerific, blueberry-ie, lemontastic flavors….but I was too lazy.  So I watched the news and drank coffee instead.  Then Brett made hot dogs and hash browns for lunch.  So we didn’t have breakfast.  We had a kosher lunch instead. 

While the food (hash browns) were in the oven I made a fruit salad.  But not just any fruit salad.  For one thing it was made of all fresh fruits.  And for another it isn’t you basic fruit salad.  It was:  fresh papaya, fresh mango, fresh kiwi, fresh pear and fresh pineapple.  I was gonna put a peach in it, but the peach was no good when I cut it open.  I have it in the fridge so it will be nice and cold at dinner time.  I can’t wait!

And by the way, I just realized that I am wearing the same outfit in the picture of me (except for the hat) that I wore on my honeymoon.  It looks like I found my favorite not-for-work outfit for the season!  For this year, at least.

Oooooh! Can't wait!

I am in the vehicle right now headed home after a very short day at work
(3 1/2 hours) and a nice long day in the middle of nowhere at Miss
Karissa's 5th birthday party, which involved some yummy cupcakes, some
crying, some other kids ripping open her presents, a slip and slide, a
Miranda belly flop, a Stephanie bruised foot, some super yummy food, a
garden tour and an awesome fire pit....pictures to be posted when I wake
up...yeeeeeeeeee!

Why cats are evil

Just a short little jot here:

When a dog does something wrong you can tell.  The ears are back, the tail is tucked, they refuse to look at you (you know, the whole "if I can't see you then you can't see me" thing..).  Some will just be extra extra sweet.  Then you know.  And you go tearing through your home, trying, trying to find whatever it is that the dog did that was bad.  And when you do it usually isn't as bad as you had first suspected.

Well, not usually, but 50/50 it isn't as bad.

Cats...well, not so.  I do not come upstairs much during the day after I get home, with the exception of putting on my pj's or collecting art supplies to work on downstairs in front of the tv (rather than my art table, which is not near a tv, unless you could the tv in the bedroom, but that is a totally different room so it doesn't count).  Anyway, because I am not hanging out upstairs it is perfectly understandable that I wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.  And Scallop didn't let on that anything was amiss upstairs, because she is a cat.  So imagine, for a moment if you will, I decide that going upstairs to lay in bed and play on my new pink laptop(which the picture isn't mine but kinda looks like it...mine is pink and black, not pink and silver).  And imagine I plug in  my computer, plug in my cellphone, turn on the tv and set to chosen channel, go to climb in bed and then see it.  Cat hork.  A hairball.  But it wasn't a hairball.  It was a hair glob.  And it was gross.  And then I thought, "maybe she was just letting us know that we should change out the sheets and comforter, for her comfort, you know?"  And then I thought, "screw that!  What if someone peed in her litter box to let her know that they weren't happy with the goings on in there?"

So now I am sitting in a bed with mismatched sheets and pillowcases and a winter comforter.  All because the cat decided not to let me onto the little secret earlier when I totally could have washed and dried everything before bedtime.

Tomorrow will be super fantastic...

The Perils of the Kitchen

I love to cook.  Love, Love, LOVE to cook.  I get excited about get-togethers and parties and whatnot (people visiting, etc) because it usually means I get to cook.  The only bad thing is it is making me gain a whole lotta weight.  I didn't realize how much I had gained until I saw the wedding photos.  Wowza.  More than I thought.  I have managed to convince myself that I am skinny, because Miranda is a small girl and we wear the same size.  Therefore the camera is all fucked up.  All of the cameras used at the wedding are effed up.  ALL OF THEM. 

Anyway, tomorrow is Karissa's birthday party.  So I called Miranda to find out what she wants me to bring.  She said to bring whatever I wanted.  So I got this idea in my head.  Seeing as I am totally in love with purple fingerling potatoes I thought it would be totally cool to make a potato salad with them.  For, you know, color.  And I have managed to convince myself that they are waaaay better than regular potatoes (they aren't, they taste the same...but they are purple, man!).  And not just a regular potato salad, but a roasted potato salad!  So I set to work cutting it all up and roasting them with walnut oil, garlic, salt and pepper.  Then, while the cuties were roasting, I cut up some orange pepper, a red onion, some celery, some cherry tomatoes, and a couple of hard boiled eggs.  Then the potatoes were done.  And they smelled oh-so-wonderful.  And they had to sit out to cool.  But I had to taste test one to make sure that they were the right flavor and consistency, right?  Yeah, I test a few more than one.  Several more than one.  And they were good.  And then I thought to myself, "well, Self, there sure are a lot that you cut up....you can't possibly use all of it!"  So I had a few more.

Brett is expecting gigantical meatballs for dinner tonight.  And I am full.  I still have to make the pea and bacon salad for the party tomorrow.  But I am so full that I don't want to look at food right now. 

Althought that potato salad might need a few more nibbles to make it fit right in the container.

NO!

And this is the problem I have with loving food to much.  I love it so much I eat it.  And it loves me so much it decides to hang around for a while, hugging my hips and thighs, my stomach and my arms.  Bus driver arms.  That's what I'm gonna end up having.  Except I will rename them "bread and butter arms".  Or "grilled cheese sandwich arms".  Or "Alfredo lasagna arms". 

Maybe I should go make the meatballs now.

Blubbbbblahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Awesome Awesome Awesome!

Follow this link!

Big, Huge, Enormous Sigh

Today was a lllooooooooooonnnngg day.  I am not used to working more than five hours a day.  Really.  9 to 2.  That's my limit.  Today I worked *gasp!* SIX HOURS!!!!  And I loved every second of it, except for that last hour.  Even Shane was saying that I should have scheduled him and I to leave at 2.  I know, I know, I tol' him.  But I didn't.  Therefore we were stuck there together. 

We were fairly busy at least.  Or I was.  That's what I get for taking off 5 days in a row.  Well, 4, but I count yesterday because of the meeting.  I don't cut hair on meeting days.  I drag around too much.

I had plenty of people asking me if I felt married.  The answer is no.  I am married.  I don't know if I am supposed "feel" different, but if so then I don't.  I feel like me.  With Brett here.  So the only thing that has changed is I can now bitch at him and he can't just walk out.  Ha!  Sucker.

Anyhoo, nothing else is really going on.

Miss Karissa's birthday party is Saturday, so I will have pictures up from that when the time comes. 

This is gonna be a dull week, I think.

Pictures!

From the wedding and the honeymoon!

 

The guys at the cabin the night before, along with a blurry baby scorpion they found:

 

At the wedding:

 

The pool:

 

 

Walking around taking pictures at the cabin:

        

 

The chapel and all:

 

 

Driving around:

 

 

Callaway Gardens:

 

 

Hanging out in the cabin for the last night:

         

 

Driving back, with scenes of the Atlanta skyline from the south side:

 

And finally, a video I made of the fabulous Gay, Georgia-Hometown of the Cotton Pickin’ Fair!  Yeah, it’s not very good quality, and you might get nauseated watching it, but I felt the need to  make it:

 

And out of all of this, you know what my favorite picture is?  This one:

 

I can’t remember what the guys banana hammock said on the back…I heart something, I think.  But Brett’s expression is awesome!  Oh, and FYI, that big slide was $5 for two turns.  What a rip off.

 

I also meant to mention that almost a year to the day that I rescued the poor birdie I ended up rescuing another one, but not the same kind.  I think last years was a finch, this years was a bluebird:

Brett helped.  He caught the thing and even drove to Debbie Ivy's house!  How sweet! 

Fun

The wedding was great.  And I was actually able to repeat everything without screwing up!  I shocked myself.  I have pictures...tons of pictures...but I am too damn lazy right now to download and then upload and then post.  We just got home about an hour and a half ago.

I promise pictures soon.

Remember:  Victory Garden, flowers, and the bird story.  It's a great bird story.  And it's from last week.  Wait for it!  And the garden.  Holy moly!  I want a garden!

Just wait...