This past weekend Magoo and I road tripped it down to South Florida. We both grew up down there though literally it was a world apart. Our homes and lives were lived 50 miles apart, as he reached the outer branches of Broward and I was way the hell south Miami. His childhood saw open fields, horses, landscape, and chickens. We had traffic, 1/2 acres, city life and all things Miami. We spent the weekend intertwined between the two. Lounging with his brothers, sisters, nephews and parents and then drinking and eating with the Jewish folk of MIA. We squeezed in some time to visit my family too, Magoo swore we were in the Keys with the distance we drove south. This is a world where I-95 and I-75 both end, or begin if you want to be picky like that. Those who don't know also probably don't play but we enjoy games of Jewish geography. While this is reserved for, "do you know's" left over from camp or college, it works in other ways too. Waiting for our table at the bar on Sunday night meant running into high school friends. That is how it was in my Miami growing up. See how it was in Magoo's world. This may rock your vision of South Florida, I know it did mine. See here for my bored car shots and scenes from a South Florida neighborhood.
Craptastic is a state of mind and mine is there. It also is probably a series of events that led me to this state of mind. But craptasticly fantastic it is. It is fucking Friday and I am freaking tired. Talk about freaky Friday. Four hours of sleep left me feeling like I had been sucker punched in the face. That feeling usually reserved for too many whatevers. But I had two Miller lights, not enough to leave me feeling hung over. Falling asleep to tears and Magoo rubbing my back are not ideal. Some booty in there would have made it better but I would still be tired as balls. I am not sure it was all worth it either. Did I say what I needed to? Was it heard? Why start something I couldn't finish? When I finally pulled the covers off my face and used my hand to lift my head, I find the cable has gone on the fritz. The box read all sorts of numbers that made me wonder if The Others are effing with us. Too much TV perhaps, but still what the H is going on? Well maybe my overdose is cured, as the TV is out until sometime tomorrow. Brighthouse is super courteous and gave us a very usable window of 8 to 8. Nice. Thanks assholes. Meanwhile I hear Ginger rolling around and digging for gold under the couch. Turns out she was the lucky winner of a new ant trap that Magoo laid down. Yeah so my dog was carrying poison between her paws and in her jaws. I am sure that is going to make for a good experience later on in the day. Assuming she makes it that far. I am too tired to worry and too tired to care. Really I was too tired to fight about it, but I managed to get something out. Which is a ton more than I can say for my productivity today. The effort I did exert was just erased by the devil who runs my computer. The impish evil man erased my hard earned billables. Is dizziness a normal reaction to all this? Did I mention craptastic? Happy Freaky Fucking Friday.
Happy Friday to me. Three tall pours of a Malbec and I am back to feeling fantastic. Screw the craptastic. A Friday afternoon nap left me with this euphoria. I swear the last time I napped it on a Friday afternoon could've been college. Who settles in for the evening at 7? If that is the case, hold out, drink a few, and tuck yourself in at nine. But no, tonight I said I was going to be there and I was. Anyone else get nap stomach. The horrific gross nausea in your stomach after a wrong time of the day sleep? So that by 10, when it passed, I was ravenous. I slept through dinner and pushed thru the nausea to find myself knee deep in a pecan crusted brie and pulled pork pizza. I know I ate it and I know it was damn good. That place is my favoritest and I can sit for hours pouring over menu items and big tall pours. Oh and the bar tender with the accent and the magic tricks. Yeah you gotta see him. It is totally my favorite. As I told Magoo on the car ride home, I inhaled it all and cannot remember the tastes of the food. I know other things from the night and I know for certain, based on a quick spell check, that I am drunk as hell. Lets leave it at that. Happy Freaking Friday.
Labels: Everyday Life
To celebrate the new house and my 28th year we threw a party. Since not much had been done to the house we figured it was fine to invite over fifty of our closest. We also thought a theme, a keg, and a flip cup table were a good idea. Party goers must dress WASPY - if you don't know what this mean I am not sure where you have been living, but feel free to ask. We felt to counteract this image, of something we are not, there would be beer, pizza, and chips. We called it low brow - because it was just that. We had bagel bites and corn dogs and we served it out of plastic containers. Enough said. I cringed at times laying down money for tacky pink dishes, but it was good fun in the end. What we didn't plan, but was fitting for the occasion, was the green keg beer we purchased. It must've been left over from St. Patty's the month before. It mattered not as we all drank it out of Dixie cups anyway and played many a round of flip cup with it. Maybe we drank too much or maybe this was the point of entertaining, but my pictures stop at the start of the night. I found no time to take shots of our actual guests and the revelry that littered our house for four hours. Or even a picture of the green beer. Oh well you can imagine what a bunch of WASPs with green beer, greasy food, pearl necklaces, top siders and plaid did on a Saturday night in April.
Labels: Everyday Life
You all are awesome and have some really great questions that have been fun and sometimes very hard to answer. I enjoyed getting some of those ideas and thoughts out there and writing totally off the cuff. No seriously this had not been edited. Thanks and enjoy my responses - I tried my bestest to be honest.
Have you and Magoo talked about marriage? Yes, we do talk about it and it is something we are both interested in doing - just not quite right now. And not to each other. Ha just kidding!
How long have you been together? Just about a year and a half. We met in December 2005 and consider our first real official date to have been in January 2006.
What do you think is your best quality? Oh crap this is one that I had to come back to. I want to be honest and exact. I want to say it is my kindness and caring. Though I am certain others will disagree....
Your worst? My propensity to gossip and in turn think evil ugly thoughts. It is horrific sometimes. I am going to give you two - I am also VERY stubborn.
If you had to commit to eating the same exact meal, every day, for the rest of your life, what would you choose? This too is super tough because you think of foods you like and wonder if you would want them morning, noon, and night and how I get sick of things really easily. And how something to that extent would make anyone sick. But I have to suspend reality and though surprisingly (if in this world weight did not matter because reality has been suspended) I probably could eat some form of a pizza. I always like pizza and have never had a bad experience and I do really crave it more days than I care to admit to.
Who are you more like, your mother or father? I look identical to my mother, totally a spitting image, but I am personality wise like my father.
What is your favorite outfit that you own? Oh god I swear I have not totally thought about this in years because in my much younger days I had my favorites. But I have favorite items that make me HAPPY to wear. A pair of pink and green Manolos that I always get compliments on, my Citizen jeans that I wear all the time, a handful of pants from Express because they get me out of having to think about work clothes, three or four pairs of super comfy linen-ish pants from JCrew, a ridiculous cleavage dress from Diane Von Furstenberg.
How many kids do you want? Some days none - Ginger and Magoo seem like a handful. And growing up, even through college, I was always the girl who said she never wanted kids. But that changed and on most days I can't wait, simply want to jump out of my skin with anticipation of having babies, can't wait. But even then it is likely only one or two.
Boys/girls? I don't know what I would do with a boy. I have always seen myself with girls - little beautiful girls with ribbons, dresses, ballet shoes and painted nails.
And what do you want to name them? I got nothing here. Not-a-thing. Sorry that is the honest answer and not a cop out.
What kind of law do you practice? At my new job I do insurance defense - construction, asbestos, professional liability, real estate and whatever else the insurance company sends over. We also do insurance coverage issues. Someone asked me this in another post - but it is all litigation which means a lot of time in the car driving to depositions and hearings.
How tall are you? 5'6"
Have you lived in any states other than FL and LA? You know what, I have not. I spent many a summer in Vermont and my parents still summer up there, but I have never resided there or elsewhere.
What would you want to be if you weren't a lawyer? Holy good god in heaven that is awesome and I don't know where to start. I did a post like this not too long ago. But I would love to be able to be on my own - no boss, working from home. It is not the work that I mind just the restrictions. But honestly, a news reporter really really strikes me. Don't ask - I answered these from the gut.
What made you start blogging? Reading others blogs was inspiring and helpful to see what other (mostly women) go through. I thought that I could do this and it could help me out during a time when I needed an extra shoulder to lean on. I always had a journal but neglected it in recent months - this seemed to be a good fit for that problem.
Which fictional character do you most identify with? This was the hardest of the questions to answer. I drew a blank on fiction there for a good three hours and had to come back. Do not laugh but there are many a day that go by where I feel like Ally McBeal. No I don't wear those skirts, but her life and law firm practice were not that far off from the crazy that goes on here.
Why did you want to be a lawyer? I was that girl who always knew she wanted to be a lawyer - though the reasons for that do not actually directly effect what I do on a day to day basis. Because sometimes I feel like I shovel shit and I don't think anyone went to school for that. But seriously, I was involved in high school debate and enjoyed politics and hey, arguing. So it seemed natural - as in seriously it was never a question as that this is what I was going to do. At least for awhile.
Is Magoo a lawyer and if not what does he do? Yes Magoo is a lawyer - he went to law school, passed the Bar, and is a member of the Florida Bar. But he does not technically practice law as he is not allowed. Ha, that sounds funny. He is also a CPA and works at a super duper large accounting firm - which prevents him from legally practicing, though he uses his legal smarts all day long and is doing a "lawyer's" job that is heavy on the accounting.
Do you think women in the workplace will ever have an even playing field? In some ways no, I just don't think there will ever be equal treatment and there are a ton of factors that contribute to that - stereotypes, biases, pregnancy, etc. But in other ways, yes I do, as we move on as a society and it becomes more and more the norm for women to have leadership and executive roles they will be able to rid the workplace of the inequities and the younger generations will not even be given the chance to think of it any other way.
What do you feel is the most important thing women can do or say to get their voice heard at work? This is a really really tough one for me because I am super soft spoken at work and I have a hard time making my needs known as a person and not as a woman. And we all know it is a hard line to cross because no one wants to be that obnoxious bitch ass. But I think you have to tow that line - be graceful and charming when appropriate to earn respect and power but speak up only when necessary so they know that you have something to say and are choosing this opportunity to say it and not just running your mouth to be heard. Keep your opinions and attitudes to yourself and share only what is necessary. I also like to think that the proper place and time are key - larger groups and heated discussions are often not the place to actually make your point. Wait and approach someone individually, it could have more impact. Also accept that you may not get credit for your actions but know that you are behind them which is what is important.
Do you read many books? Yes in general I am reader, my mom is a librarian so it is a must. Though it goes in fits and starts. I find the lounging in sun by the pool time helps me knock out quite a few. Something about the winter months finds me less inclined.
What was the last good one you read? Last truly good book that every one should read and that I now buy as presents was Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett. Read it now.
Do you think we ever "make peace" with our bodies? Not in my life time I won't. I wish the best for some people. I just know I can't get there - I put on weight thinking about putting on weight so I will ALWAYS HAVE TO BE CAREFUL.
Do you ever freak out at the idea of marriage? Actually, no never.
Would you rather snort a pint of ice cream in one sitting or never be allowed to wear jewelry again? The horrific case of lactose intolerance that will ruin my stomach and the plumbing at my house from consuming a pint of ice cream (even via my nasal passages), is every bit worth the life time of glittery shiny baubles, pearls, and diamonds.
How many times have you made out with someone and realized afterwards that, not only do you not know, but you don't even care what his name is? Bonus points for chicks. (psych! - fake bisexuality gets you beat up.) Zero chicks. Do ex boyfriends count?
Red or Meth? Reds. Meth is for losers.
What's your best dance move? Ask Magoo and he will agree and I even did a rendition for him on Saturday night - the Running Man.
How fast can you push it over the Howard Franklin? Last week I had an experience on that bridge that made me want to eat deep friend dog shit instead of having to drive on it again. I vow to avoid it for a long while and I am a Tampa slut and try not to go over that a way anyway.
Why is a mouse when it spins? The higher the fewer. Though I prefer, "No Soap Radio"
If you had to drown in a liquid other than water what would it be? Vodka
What do you wish you would have invented? Air conditioning. This the first thing that popped into my head. It is genius and I don't know how people, especially in Florida, lived without it.
$1 million dollars to start a charity of your choice. What's your cause? I am not sure a mil is enough these days to really start a program and put it in place. I could dump the money into an existing one. But I like the idea of a community based grass roots program that would have a Federal Grant from Head Start or a Welfare to Work Program.
Since I will be on the road this weekend and unsure of my Internet access on Sunday - you get a PS today. Consider it a Picture Saturday instead. These are pictures from the road. One thing I do enjoy about my job is the ability to get in the car and drive. It gets me out, it gets me easy billing, and because of where I live it gets me awesome scenery. These are shots from the road - some of the same I will be seeing again this weekend in my travels. The pictures were taken at various points between Tampa and Sarasota including the Sunshine Skyway and the Sarasota government building and them placed together in a mutli-exposure frame. It is kind of trippy, no? Have a good weekend wherever your road may take you.
Labels: P.S./Photography Sunday
I attended a goodbye dinner for a friend with her friends, whom I don't really know. As an aside a goodbye dinner is such a terribly horrible thing to say, it really implies things that are sad and lonely. I prefer to think of it as the camp song went, "this is goodnight and not goodbye." But she is leaving town and so it is a congratulations for moving on, even if on is O-town. Okay my moving on. So, I don't know these girls but that does not stop me, it just means these words are not coming from an ill intent place, but just as an outsider invited to dine in. More so I cannot judge their sense of humor or the apparent fact that they have none.
Dinner arrived and as all plates were laid down we noticed she was missing hers. Forks raised not wanting to be rude someone asked what she ordered. Nothing. Sure, fine. Well not really - I have always hated those people. You knew you were going to a dinner, how can you not be hungry. Whatever their deal not mine. I enjoy company, food, and dining out too much to pass that up. Oh but she continued with a dead pan face, she does not eat after five. I swore on my Gucci kitten heels that she was kidding. It was her way of poking fun at the poor service. Those who were her friends seemed to realize not. "Aren't you at work at 5?" And in stride, without breaking a smile, because I don't think she smiles, she says, "Yes, I eat at work, so I can avoid eating after five." She was not kidding. This is bizarre and very uncomfortable as I stab my spicy chicken. Well not that uncomfortable because I don't really care and the chicken was fantastic. These are her issues which run DEEP. There are diets, weight management, healthy eating, exercise, allergies and then there is ridiculous. She had crossed ridiculous a quarter mile ago. How can you enjoy life with those rules and attitudes? This is someone who needs the rules to live by, this seemed obvious. Which means she was not enjoying. She was not living. She had a rule that she was supposed to follow or else. Or else what? Nothing. Take a bite and celebrate your friends and their company and their success. Five is for the eighty plus crowd or the insane. I judged her to be about 26. Keeping it in check at that age was scary. The food I ate was EXCELLENT. A edgy nuevo Vietnamese place with impeccable design and a chef. She was missing out. On the spices, aromas, tastes and flavors. Of what it means to be full and happy. What it is to savor and crave. These are normal and wonderfully delectable natural emotions and ideas. They show you what alive is. How to breathe, grow, and learn. They make up our world. Sitting with friends over food, sampling on small plates, taking sips of a French red, agonizing over too many options on the menu. That is socializing. It bonds you to people and to the earth. To the chef and her world and you get glimpses of heaven. This is why we eat out - to take in all of these emotions, experience new ideas and sensations, and to spend quality time with our friends and family across a dimly lit table. That is how memories are made and when special moments are shared. It is life. Her deadpan face was an absence of any of this and apparently not just some poor joke about her delayed entree. Her face lacked those emotions. Her face knew no such joy. Her face was probably hunger.
The blogger as a journalists bits are going around - where you have someone else ask you five questions and you respond honestly. Well I am not going to ask someone to generate five questions for me. That is because I am going to ask you all to do it. And because I drank too much wine and my head hurts. Though it does not have to be five - the number is up to you. So anything you want. Ask away and I will answer. You can e-mail me privately or post it in the comments. I am going to leave the post open and off to the side afterwards as well - knowing that the option is always available. But also know that if you ask a stupid question.....well you know the rest.
Labels: Everyday Life
We don't believe people who say they don't fight and we don't believe that an absence of fighting is a good thing. Should've added that to My Believe. Sure there are horrific fights and really the content is what matters in general anyway. Small fights over the garbage or big fights of infidelity, clearly not the same and clearly the fighting is not the issue. But we bicker, we pick, I nag, condescend and leave the dishes next to the sink. What we have really come to blows about though - the washing machine and dryer. No, not doing laundry. The actual machines. Because there is no issue over doing laundry. Magoo is on top of that. On top. Seriously. Is that shirt dirty? I think I saw a stain. No really it is soiled. He is on it like flies to honey or whatever the expression is. It is not a question of getting it done or even getting it folded. Though there have been conversations about proper sorting. Towels don't go with clothes. Ever. Sorry they just don't. And only once was there some tie-dying going on. But for the majority of the time that is his domain. Yet we have managed to duke it out over the machines going several rounds and counting. Primarily because of his love and need to clean every article of clothing regardless of dirt level or length of wear. In this world apparently you need machines and you need them NOW. Or else the laundry monsters will come get you and hold you hostage for ransom doled out in Tide bottles.
When Magoo moved in with me in November my stackable was on its last legs. It worked fine for a gal who did laundry in months that began with August and who had access to her parents machine, the dry cleaner, and her boyfriend's machines (his were sold in the move, as they did not fit in the condo and no, we did not know we were moving.) But stackable last leg lassie was not good enough for the laundry King. We first imported a donated used machine, promised not to be on its last leg. It took us a solid day of moving and arranging to get the thing in requiring removal of trim, paint and probably my head at some point. Since I know Magoo wanted to kill me on quite possibly seven different occasions and I quite nearly attended my Holiday party alone. Well, we are not electricians and we had no warranty. Not only was the machine no more effective than my last leg but she spilled water. Everywhere. For days. Even after we stopped using it. Which led to a whole 'nother round of controversy in laundry central regarding costs of diagnosing and fixing versus purchasing a total new one. Let's say we fought. And let's say we did that on several occasions, maybe even once standing on the steps of Ceviche. Let's just say that and move on.
In the mean time laundry was NOT GETTING DONE AND SMALL BABIES WERE DYING AS A RESULT. So we finally agreed to a new machine and we finally found one that fit in the small space, given that the damage to the walls had already been done and we had some room to work. To insure that no more babies died, we spent a Saturday at the laundromat. I thought he would be happy. A plethora of machines all lined up to be used at the same time. He was not happy. The laundry King likes to rule his domain and not share or let others see his collection of white undershirts. He was none too pleased - which is entirely my fault and I take full blame for considering a laundromat as his personal slice of heaven. Again I apologize for this particular fight. After laundering the necessaries we returned home and anxiously awaited delivery of our now 3rd machine.
We enjoyed her for several months. She lived with us blissfully unaware that she would be abandoned in April despite Magoo praying and swearing to her nightly. When we looked for homes we made sure there were washer/dryers or at least hook ups and we judged the greatness of a house on whether there was a Magoo Room - you all know it as a laundry room. We found that in this house. An entire space (enough for him to lay a cot in) devoted to the machines. Unfortunately there were no machines. Which meant, yet again, we had to find some. Knowing this history both our parents offered them up as house warming gifts. Which was uber-generous and so welcomed because I could not handle a single more conversation about washing machines. But of course the money for the machine did not mean that the conversation was over, it meant the conversation was just beginning. Hours on end on the Internet researching machines, which meant precious time away from my blogs and such and of course several trips to such fantastic places like LOWES! and HOME DEPOT! Front load, high efficiency, warranties, noise, whether the machine would give you a hand job while feeding you chocolate. We looked into all of this, 17 different times. And discussed it repeatedly. We found ourselves, again, in the aisles of Sears, having another "discussion" about a washing machine. Who knows what we "discussed". Let's just say the salesman knows our views on fighting. We do it in public apparently. After all that was said and done, which was a lot, trust me, we agreed on the purchase of what now becomes our fourth machine, in a mere six months.
You can see our choice below - though careful, it is not for the young or naive, as Magoo counts this as soft core porn....
And that, I can only hope, marks the end of the discussion about such appliances. No more fighting. At least about clean clothes and such machines. Now we can properly devote our energy to other super very important things - like sorting and folding.
Labels: Mr. Magoo
I had another post planned for today, which will likely arrive tomorrow. But all day I have not been feeling it. I feel gross. Blah. Icky. My pants are too tight and it is my fault - I should not have worn them. I am just aggravated and my boss did nothing to alleviate that fact. The decision was prompted by a quick run at the NYTimes headlines. I was decided in my decision to hold off on something silly, though important to Magoo and I, in the wake of the Virgina Tech shooting.
To me college was a safe haven. We walked around freely and liberally and did whatever we wanted. I am not kidding - I saw people having sex in the quad outside my window. Seriously though we did not consider risks and safety, let alone a crazed gunman shooting at us. And this was New Orleans, a place with the highest murder rate in the country. While there were no walls and stranger danger was present, the University did an excellent job in making it a non-issue. At least to the point we did not have to think about it. It was a time for carefree carelessness and a time to revel and celebrate. Certainly this time of year when the weather changed and summer break was this close. We could taste the freedom, as we held classes on the grass and laid out during study breaks. For us it meant French Quarter festival back to back with Jazz Fest. Nothing short of perfection. And nothing to worry about, except maybe studying for your Spanish Final. But like today and my hatred of my clothing, really nothing to worry about. I know the same is true across the country littered with universities, including Virginia Tech. That is what college is about. It is the best thing about those blissful four years. That, in part, is what makes this so horrific. It is tragically sad what happened but it is worsened by the fact that college does not mean that anymore. Not to these kids, not to the ones who lost their lives and not to universities who now have to deal with this reality. The freedom of learning, living, growing, and relaxing was so harshly interrupted that it can never be the same. At least not there. That is so terrifically terrible.
So tomorrow it will be back to my reality, but for now I pause and think about real problems and issues and am thankful that mine are only the communication problems I have with the jefe. Truly thankful.
This Sunday is a typical Sunday - or I would presume for most of America. We spent post-Easter gluttony at the park and reading the paper. Well he read, I pictured. Enjoy your Sunday with scenes from our last Sunday - including the 'bucks and the beach. Click for flickr.
Labels: P.S./Photography Sunday
You've seen the commercial and it has pulled me in. I want to listen to it on loop. It says children, parents, mothers and fathers, sisters and love. It says wedding dances, camp, mix tapes and pyjamas. It is cozy, warm and comfortable on the sweltering days. It is belly laughs and chocolate. It is sofas, fleece, too much candy and toes. It is telephone calls, earrings, and diet coke. It reminds me of coffee, french braids, and board games played on the floor legs crossed and never cheating. It is everything we want and remember to hold onto. Our moment of now and all our growing up. It is all the good tingly sensations in the key of C.
In the chilly hours and minutes,
Of uncertainty, I want to be,
In the warm hold of your loving mind.
To feel you all around me,
And to take your hand, along the sand,
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.
When sundown pales the sky,
I wanna hide a while, behind your smile,
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find.
For me to love you now,
Would be the sweetest thing, 'twould make me sing,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.
When rain has hung the leaves with tears,
I want you near, to kill my fears
To help me to leave all my blues behind.
For standin' in your heart,
Is where I want to be, and I long to be,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.
**The song is from a GE commercial and it is written by Donovan.
"When does your ship leave, sailor?"
Heard recently in our house following a single half minute in which I blew my nose in my sleeve emitting a ginormous bugger and mound of snot onto my stomach and clothing and then let out a fart.
Labels: Fart Queen Stories
In law school we had Sunday breakfasts. For many weekends on end we all brought food, coffee and a George Foreman to cook the bacon. Mmmm bacon. It was then that I learned the joys of the meaty goodness. We gathered early, by 9 am, to prepare, enjoy and catch Meet the Press, central time. We were a mixed bunch of right and left but we all agreed to shut it and eat, at least most of the time because who wants their eggs with a side of Ann Coulter? It really was meant to be a hearty home cooked meal and a social hour before the library. I then agreed to host the Easter one. This one was later, more relaxed, and involved the Masters, as Easters do.
This year I agreed to host Easter again with promises of delicious food, good company and of course green jackets. No one needed to rush off to study anymore. Plus we wanted to make use of our new space - when we first took a look, our initial thought was this would be great to entertain. So we did this past weekend - even if we were not quite entirely settled. I spent Saturday night busying around, cooking, cleaning and making good use of the camera. On the menu, many many bottles of champagne, fresh fruit, lemony asparagus, sweet and spicy bacon, quiche Lorraine and spinach quiche (store bought thank you very much), passion fruit sorbet and boozy baked french toast. All as delicious as billed and all recipes gently lifted from some of my favorite food blogs. So enjoy our Easter as much as we did and check out some shots of the new digs. You can view the set here.
I commented to her that I didn't think I could do it and I definitely did not think I could do it as eloquently as she did, especially since I have always had a hard time spelling the word believe. But as I drove around running lunch time errands "I believes" kept popping into my head. So here it goes. Thank god for spell check.
I believe that a hair cut and a good set of tweezers can make a world of difference and make you feel stunning, thin, and beautiful.
I believe there is a tremendous amount of evil and ugly in this world, but that looking to the positive, warmth and good in people will help you keep the faith ,otherwise you too will be swallowed by the black hole of depression.
I believe that I look better in white than black even with the slimming qualities.
I believe that the gay/lesbian/bi-sexual population is without a doubt equal and should be treated as such in every aspect of the law and allowed to live their lives accordingly.
I believe in global warming.
I believe that a good song, good weather, good friends, good wine, good food and a good night's sleep can cure almost everything that ails me.
I believe that coffee should be strong, hot, and dark and a martini should be stiff, dirty and cold.
I believe in karma, past lives, old souls, destiny and fate as ideas that explain the phenomenons in the world, relationships, friendships, deja vu, and good and evil. It explains where we came from, where we are going and why we are here. No interaction is random and no person is without importance they all create a role and impact on who you are and what your life is.
I believe you can never have too many pairs of shoes, ass hugging jeans, slimming black slacks, white tees, or handbags.
I believe that money spent on expensive jeans, shoes and purses is well spent and well worth it. Though sales are where to look and no bargain is too good.
I believe that every person has a strength and quality that allows them to shine with inner beauty and talents, which is what makes us unique and special individuals and valued to our friends and family.
I believe what my mother taught me that nails, especially toes, should never be naked.
I believe that everyone should have a lot of perspective, the walking in another shoes kind, a good amount of humility and some fat, some chocolate and some wrinkles as they all keep you healthy, alive, and aware of what else could be.
I believe that my love for her is unending and pure and that she really is my pride and joy.
I believe in the curative properties of eight glasses of water, Advil and tums they heal almost everything.
I believe that airline seats are too small and cramped, the food is non-existent, the lines at the airport are horrific, but that everyone should travel to experience new landscapes, cultures and people and to really appreciate your home and life.
I believe that we have spent too long, too many resources, and too many lives in Iraq and that this is being ignored and completely mishandled which will mean we live with these scars as a nation for generations to come, some of which we cannot even fathom and the media refuses to ignore. In the same way they have handled the tragedies in the Sudan.
I believe in the strength and fundamentals of the US democratic process and systems including checks and balances. There is foundation, history and thought in the notions laid down in the Constitution and Bill of Rights. It is a whole other question as to what has happened to that.
I believe that fresh flowers, spa time, quality stationary and soft sheets are luxuries we can all treat ourselves to and the perfect gifts to give as a way of saying thank you to ourselves and others.
I believe that I have been extremely fortunate and quite lucky and for that I am beyond grateful.
I believe I am a good attorney, friend, sister, daughter, girlfriend and that I will make an excellent wife and mother.
I'm starting a PhotoSunday section. A shot from the weekend or the week that I enjoyed or that may symbolize those events. I am not wedded to it and it maybe a collage or a series of pictures or even a link of them back to flickr. Something to enjoy on your Sunday afternoons when you are lazying around with coffee, the remote control and a belly full of brunch.
This is how we enjoyed our Friday evening. It began with a photograher's exhibit at a hipster coffee shop/wine bar. Because there has to be that /, which meant a lot of wine. Oh yeah and we also ate Greek, surrounded by Opa!, flying napkins and conversations tid bits of girlie bits and coke-a-martinis - rimmed with, well you know. We finally stumbled into the late show Blades of Glory - no beef to Will but I took a 10 minute napper. With wine and dark theaters a girl just can't be helped. Not when that photo was the start of the night - a series of shots shot by a photographer herself with her phone. She is just that good. Enjoy your Sunday.
Labels: P.S./Photography Sunday
Enough with the whining and the drama and the ranting, onto bigger and better things. As my birthday approaches I do what we all do at that time of year - ponder what I would like to receive from my super generous friends and family. My mind wanders to all the glorious objects out there and to items I have ruminated on over the past year and pointed out as things I will ask for that for my birthday. Then I really think about the things that I really want but most likely will never in a million years actually get. And that is how we got here. The following list is a wish list a la if I had a million dollars. Because I sure 'aint paying off my loans - that is not any fun. But these are, for the most part, practical requests. Yes I swear they are. While they may seem extravagant and frivolous all lined up together, they are not ridiculous. Well not super ridiculous. At least not to me. And it's my birthday so I don't want to hear it.
*Housekeeping note - some with Reader or Bloglines may have seen this initially. Blogger effed with me and I had to take it down and redo it.
I hate that expression learning curve. What the fuck is a learning curve? Does it mean there is a curve that I have to get over to learn? Do I need to learn how to curve? What curve is it? Is it a hump? Is is a good thing? A bad thing? I don't fucking understand it. And I can't stand how it is thrown in my face daily. I want to take the curve and boomerang it back into their mouth. How is that for a curve? Did you learn anything from it?
I feel new and peanut butter and jelly-ish. I feel sticky and uncomfortable. I don't know where I belong. It is too early to cry at least with the door open. Some would say it is not worth crying about. But the unease and the gas forming an anxiety bulge in my stomach are worth the tears. I fixed the ergonomics problem. Maybe it was feng shui. I think it was both. I felt cramped, ugly, and uncomfortable. It helped make me feel less claustrophobic and less paranoid. Who can sit with their back to the door? How very Sopranos of me. It just irks me. What I can't fix is not knowing. What I am doing. If they like me. When I will eff up (because I will, we all do at some point). And why I have to eat alone. Like the new kid in kindergarten style, I sit alone and make miserable decisions about where to eat, what to eat, and if I will do it alone. Again. No that's not kindergarten. There everyone was your friend. You sat in circles and shared and your only worry was who got the red sleeping mat. This is not kindergarten, this is hating high school. Those uncomfortable awkward times when you didn't know a person and felt alienated. Which I didn't, so I guess ten years later I get initiated. It is never to late.
Which is funny because getting here felt like rush. Smiles and fake noises meant to impress. "I love your shoes" now translates that they like me. But 90 bucks at Charles David does not count, it says nothing about me. And I was told it is superficial and a sign of someone who does not want to get to know you, the real you, the one beyond you and the pointy black patent pumps. The magic is, that person is now here, working down the hall. Reminding me of these ideas and where I came from. Amazing when life does that to you. A little circle of a reminder of god's way of showing you that life works itself out, that it has a meaning and purpose. It helps to know that everything will be ironed out. That there is a place and time. Mine will come and I will feel more secure in it. More at home and welcomed. Like high school really was for me. That, with time, I will see things from her eyes and the way they were back then when I was less stuck. Maybe this is the learning curve. Probably not though and to be honest I don't really care. Fuck the learning curve.
This will be streaming consciousness of a total collection of ideas and thoughts over the past 72 hours or so. With Passover hours from now I will give you a pass through of a weekend that whirled by but felt like an eon ago. Where was Friday? I swear it was seven months ago - at least it feels that way sitting here back at the desk mid-Monday. I was able to bolt early on Friday afternoon owing to the move. But I didn't do any moving - I sat in traffic heading Northwest on the mish mash of Veterans, Memorial and 60. Who does that? I felt like a suburbanite sitting there on an early Friday afternoon. Trying my best to get home. But I don't live there and it is ironic that sitting in traffic heading away from my new home made me feel suburbany. I stand by my conviction that we live in the city. Still. I was headed to a condo too - old friends, old co-workers. It was warm and comforting and an hour spent catching up before I had to turn around and change. This time drinks and dinner with Tom's old friends. First we did a tour of the homes. Seems like there is a lot of movement these days. I am more than thrilled with ours and think we are the winners. Though I could be biased.
At dinner with mixed company I become paranoid and self conscious. Why do I need a stranger's approval? Why do I want him to relay that Tom has a girl and she is cute? Why do I need that validation? In a few short hours, far too few if we are counting, we are moving up and out. Into our home. While it has been us this is a move, really it is one. What about this does not translate into security? Or insecurity? As I watch him move and sing and grow careless with strangers. Who is this? And who am I that jealousy can take over so easily? I am not ashamed of jealousy - I think it is a natural human emotion. It helps ideas to register and become a barometer. I just think it needs to be checked. So where did mine come from? As I lay on the carpet that night in tears I had no answers. I can blame wine, whine, and sleep deprivation. But I won't. Despite the airs of confidences, I am just as insecure and crazy as the next one. It comes in waves and never truly leaves you. I felt much more insecure in my life and have had some reasons to. There are residuals of that. Plus the generals we all deal with as women, weight, hair, food in our teeth and boogers in our noses and as people who intereact. The truth is it never goes away - you just have to learn to manage, control, and gain perspective from it. And sometimes admit you are wrong.
Saturday came too early at 6 am we were up waiting for movers who did not show until 10. But we were moved by noon. Which still meant we had HOURS to go of unpacking and shopping. A little Bed, Bath and Beyond, if we had time. And we did. At least we made time as we trekked up and down Dale Mabry spending more money. But we needed sheets for our bigger bed. We needed to insure they were on there as we knew we would crash. Long hours, long day and the GATORS. We also knew we needed to be showered and out of the house by 7 to get parking and navigate the crowds. Cherrys or Hawks or whatever you call the largest gathering of Gators outside of Gainesville is packed. Somehow we managed to VIP it up the stairs with a handful of others. Forgetting that stair climbing, no underwear and a dress are a bad idea but not really caring as my clothes were packed. Our own bathroom with a screen across from the porcelain. Who knows. But I would not have survived the crowds or the cheering. I can handle Magoo's claps but that was about it. Until the end and the chorus of "It's Great's..." as we exited with two minutes to go and an assurance that the Gators will be repeating. We got home to a scared and tired Ginger. She is having difficulty adjusting - she may be more moody than I. It figures.
I spent Sunday alone. I pushed, pulled, unpacked and cleaned - my feet mostly and the constant dirt kept them in a constant Britney Spears state. We got cable and internet - wireless throughout. I know what heaven may be now. The cable guy could not stop gushing about how much he enjoyed our digs. I would have been creeped out - but something was charming and sweet. So I reveled in it and agreed. So did Magoo when he came from work (yeah on a Sunday you don't have to tell us that it sucks). We do love it. Something about a new place makes you want to do new things, start new traditions. So I decided a bath was the way to go. Trying hard to push aside my bathing fears I sat for about 20 minutes. Until it grossed me out. And really until the glass of wine was done. Feeling loopy and relaxed my tired body sat with a towel, our new cable and wireless and unwound.
Labels: Everyday Life