cat chewing through food bag, gotta go

**



So. After a lengthy discussion, Jef and I have decided to postpone the wedding date.
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.
.
.
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HEH...y'all probably think there's some big heartfelt, "I'm not ready for this change" crap going on, don't you? Sorry, but no. My lease ends at the end of March, his at the end of September, and none of the possible complexes we could move into (his on a transfer, my current one) have 3 bedroom apartments. SO...we decided to push the date back to September.

Sure hope all of those plane tickets are refundable/transferrable. (snort)

This also works out well for a couple of guests on my list and I'm hopeful that it will work better for my matron of honor and a couple of family members.

Shit, that reminds me, I need to call various family members who don't use email and let them know. Thanks. I'll do that tomorrow.

Advantages to September - obvious logistical/financial/slacker-who-hasn't-done-as-much-as-she-should-
have-by-now ones.

Disadvantages - probability of 100 degree day much higher.

Hm...guess those tents are a definite on the ol' rental list, huh? I love Texas weather, by the way. Heat is always a possibility. The day may start out at 40 and end up at 80. Layers, we haz them.

I've had a little bit of wine, so y'know...Hi.

I finished another book - White Oleander. It was excellent. I have a book swap buddy at work and the copy I read was hers, so now I need to go out and buy my own copy so that I can highlight/mark a few things. Really, I recommend this book but, as always, with a caveat. There is a section in the book where you will look up from the page and cry, "Oh, sweet crispy JESUS, does this book ever get any happier??" The answer is, well...read it. No, they do not all walk into the sunset together, holding hands and clutching vanilla lattes, but it gets better. Trust me.

And do not talk to me about the movie. I have this weird thing where I actually can't deal with most movie adaptations of books. I prefer the written word, thank you. I'm almost scared to see movies of books that I've enjoyed because they usually get ruined. A good writer uses words...like..well..shit. Like I'm unable to right now. But that almost NEVER comes across in movies. Maybe it's because I was a big 'ol Stephen King fan back in junior high/high school and we all know how great his movies are. Ahem.

The Dallas Auto-rama was wonderful. What's the word for things that you wouldn't ordinarily do on your own but end up enjoying because you do them with a certain person? Whatever it is, that's the deal with me and car shows. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE classic/restored/custom cars. No, really. I do. I actually know how an internal combustion engine works and can (sort of) explain it to you. The ex and I briefly owned a 1968 Mustang that was MY car. I helped rebuild the brakes and work on it. And by helped I don't mean stood there in short shorts while holding a frosty beverage. I mean I rebuilt one side of the brakes after being shown how to do it on the first side, packed bearings, bled brake lines, replaced leaf springs. I like cars and not just because guys think it's cool. Turn over the engine on a '69 Camaro and I'm yours, baby. Barumpabrumbrumbrumrumpa.

Pardon me, where was I? Oh, car show, yes. Despite my love of the four-wheeled, wandering around for 5 hours in two rooms of custom cars (including a ridiculous amount of Chevy Belairs) is something that you kind of need the right company to handle well. (Or beer, which I also had on hand.) I had the right company. We joked about the cars, liked a lot of the same ones, knew which one the other would get all goose-bumpy about. AW.

And Jef got to meet George Barris, and his reaction was the best thing I've ever seen. Seriously.

OK. I think I'm out of gas. I still have to hunt down the links for a couple of things up there and the Project Runway reunion is on and I'm just plain tired of typing. Bye.


**Taken at Oktoberfest, yet another thing I haven't told you about yet. I know, I know. I suck.

the other stuff

I've been reading a lot lately, which has been nice because somehow I ended up taking a long break from reading and it was driving me sort of crazy. Anyway, I've read The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion, The Omnivore's Dilemna, by Michael Pollan, On Beauty by Zadie Smith and I'm working on The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon.

I highly recommend any and all of these books, albeit with disclaimers.

The Year of Magical Thinking, as you know if you listen to NPR, is Joan Didion's autobiographical account of the year after her husband died. He died suddenly in their living room and Didion spent a lot of time, consciously and unconsciously, trying to figure out what she could have done to prevent it. There's more to it, obviously, but it's a beautifully written (good lord, that woman can build a sentence) book about a not-so-beautiful subject. If you have a problem with the occasional laugh at death and dying or you have a problem with very straightforward women? Not the book for you. Suggested beverage* - hot tea.

The Omnivore's Dilemna is about food. How we get it, what it's made of, who's making it for and delivering it to us and the costs involved. It's less brutal than Fast Food Nation, but still disturbing and thought provoking enough that I'm not sure I can eat beef again. Obviously, if you have a problem with the realities of the food chain or really REALLY like high-fructose corn syrup? Grab an issue of People. Suggested beverage - WATER.

On Beauty is about a family...there's more, but it just sounds weird because I can't write like Zadie Smith. It's British and funny and well-written. If you have a problem with inter-racial relationships, get over it. And then go read something else. And feel the pain, because this is a really good book and you missed out, suckah. Suggested beverage - a nice hefeweizen.

I'm still working on The Curious Incident of the Dob in the Night-Time, but so far I'm enjoying it. It's written from the perspective an autistic teenager who is trying to solve a mystery. Good stuff. If you have a problem with very simple sentence structure or digressions? Not for you. Right now, I'm enjoying it with my usuals - Diet Coke at work**, red wine at home.

Next on my list, I have The Last Thing He Wanted, another Didion. I also have two (free!) issues of Lucky magazine sitting on my table, but those are reserved for a time when I can sit on the couch, drink wine***, watch some crappy TV and rip out the pretty outfits and paste them in a notebook like a giant, eye-baggy 9th grader.

*Of course, I drink red wine with everything, but it can make one a bit maudlin when one (I) drinks too much. So, y'know...at your own peril and all that.

**I read on my lunch break, smart ass.

***This is a daily activity, but sometimes I do it while I'm folding clothes, talking to my kid, painting my toenails or one of a gazillion other slightly more productive activities.

SEGUE

I'm going up to Dallas this weekend, for the primary purpose of seeing my boyfriend and the secondary purpose of doing a (belated) Valentine's Day Thing with him. OOOOH, what are you two lovebirds doing, I can hear you asking. Well, we are going to the Auto-Rama!!! After which, we will drink some beer and then have some some hot monkey sex. You can take your flowers and shove 'em, sez I.

SEGUE

The kiddo and I spread two boxes worth of hair goop on my head Sunday night and I am once again a dark brunette. The original brown had faded so much that I was at my real hair color, which is one shade away from "Dude, when's the last time you washed your hair?"

I have an appointment this afternoon to get a bunch of my hair whacked off. I haven't told Jef yet, because a)UM...my head and b)I want to surprise him. Of course, he may read this sometime between now and Friday so - Hi honey!! I'm getting a haircut! Don't be scared!!

SEGUE

Never give out your email address at a Bridal Expo. Unless, of course, you like receiving emails from every venue that you've already ruled out, restaurants you wouldn't eat at anyway and people selling little beaded squares of fabric used for drink coverage. Honestly, you'd think I would have known better, but alas...I did not.

In closing, I need your vote. Tell me your favorite flavor of cupcake in the comments. Seriously, this is important shit.

By the way, y'all smell great today.

sleepwalking

Dear upstairs neighbors,

I know we live in a 24-hour society and sometimes you get the urge to turn your two bedroom apartment into a bowling alley at 1AM. Or perhaps your Aunt Marge sent you a pogo stick for your birthday and you just can't wait until daylight to try it out. Or maybe the current arrangement of your furniture reminds you too much of HIM, the one who broke your heart and you simply must move that chair HERE and that incredibly heavy dresser over THERE. These urges are hard to resist, I know.

I get it. We get strange urges sometimes. Saturday, my daughter walked in on me sitting on the kitchen counter, reading my book while eating Wheat Thins, spray cheese and red wine. I didn't feel like putting the book down and I wanted a snack, so I just followed my urges and plopped down (up?) right there on the counter. It happens. Impulsive living is fun sometimes.

I also think a certain amount of overhead noise is understandable when living in a multi-story apartment complex. I'm actually more relaxed about the noise than most. I drop things and fall quite a bit, and I know my downstairs neighbor has probably considered homicide more than once. Luckily for me, she checks her urges and this makes me not only still alive, but pretty understanding about ruckus from above.

However, when your activities actually wake me, a woman who sleeps like the dead, up from a sound sleep at 1 o'clock in the morning, it is entirely TOO MUCH.

So knock it off, before I come up there in my penguin pajamas and show you a whole new, much more interesting use for that pogo stick.

Sincerely,

Laura

roundish

My kid made the best dinner tonight. Barbecue chicken pizza and Caesar salad. Technically, the salad came in a bag, but the pizza was all her, baby.

Kiddo's Barbecue chicken pizza.

The night before, throw some ketchup, tabasco, spicy mustard, pureed onion, garlic, beer, worchestire sauce, apple juice, Tiger sauce, brown sugar and whatever-the-hell-else you want into a saucepan.

Stir and let simmer until your entire house smells like barbecue.

Refrigerate.

The next day, go with your mom to the DPS and get your driver's license. Drive to HEB with your mom, as she sits in the passenger seat and freaks out and wonders where the last 16 years went. Pick up a pre-made pizza crust, mozarella cheese, bagged salad and a bottle of wine for your freaking-right-the-fuck-out mom.

Hand mom the keys in the parking lot because she's a goddamn backseat driver and she's making you crazy.

Once home, cook up some chicken breasts (3 chicken boobies will cover 2 crusts.) Spread sauce on crusts. Cover with cheese, then chicken, then a little more cheese, then sliced red onions.

Cook at 450 for about 15 minutes (till cheese is melty and crusts are browned) while you hang out with a friend and your mom sips wine and flips through your baby book.

When the timer goes off, slice and serve with salad. Pour sobbing mom more wine and hand her the scrapbook labeled "Kiddo, Ages 3-5." Go to your room with your friend so she'll stop showing him nakie pictures.

I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

AAAUUUUGHGHGHGH!!

competent
interesting
embarrassed
occasional*
definitely

you're = you are (You're using the wrong word.)
your = belongs to you (That's your mistake.)

its = belongs to it (Blogger sometimes has a mind of its own.)
it's = it is (It's not really that hard, if you think about it.)

there = a location (Hey! Look over there!)
they're = they are (They're coming to the party. Buy more wine.)
their = belongs to them (Those fuckers never bring their own wine.)

sight = vision/something that is seen (Look at all that wine! What a lovely sight!)
site = location/short for website (This site sucks!!!111!!11)

to = used to indicate direction or expression (He gave all my wine to that bitch.)
too = in addition (He gave her all my cheese, too. That fucker.)
two = one + one (There are only two bottles of wine left now

I can't explain the difference between lie and lay because I can never remember it. But if a comma-happy, wine-swilling, grammar ignoramus like me can get it straight?? Surely the rest of the internet can figure it out. Clean it up, people, you're KILLING ME.

*Thank you, Miz S. See?? See how it infects people??

Shiny objects

I hate jewelry commercials. They're designed to make the man feel obligated to buy the woman shiny objects to prove he loves her. You want to prove you love me? Let me sleep in on a Saturday while you take my car out to get detailed, the oil changed and then wake me up with a steaming cup of joe. That's love.

Anyway, I just saw a commercial for Kay Jewelers and the guy gives the girl one of those jewelry boxes with the spinning ballerina - you all know you had one, don't look at me like that. Anyway, she sighs "ooh, I had one just like this when I was a girl."

He goes on to inform her that he knows, because that is the very same childhood jewelry box, he got it from her mom* and she should look further. She does and finds that ridiculous black box which contains a (very pretty, actually) diamond ring.

"Oooh, Fred"**, she sighs.

Rings and necklaces and narrative ensue. They go back to guy and girl, jewelry box in the foreground. She looks at the twirling ballerina and coos, "I know just how she feels." Commence jingle.

She knows just how the ballerina feels? Starving, living off nicotine and criticism and in constant pain? Wow....romantic.

Yeah, keep the diamonds. You'll find my car keys on the hook by the door.

*Ok, that's kind of sweet, I'll give them that.
**Fred, Joe, Bob...does it matter what the boy's name is in diamond advertising?