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Where we'll be this weekend.

Geej, BH and I are hitting the road to NE Texas tomorrow afternoon for a long-overdue trip to see family relations. BH's two sons were supposed to be coming with us, but the nearly-fourteen-year-old is acting like...well, a teenager...and boycotted the trip. Sigh.

I'm sure I'll have many tales and photos upon my return. In the meantime, please enjoy these puppies:

This happens pretty much every morning.

She wanders into our room and crawls in bed. Sometimes she doesn't fall back asleep (usually on Saturdays and Sundays, of course), most days she does. When it comes time to actually wake up and get out of bed, she stalls by snuggling with him. He purrs LOUDLY and loves it. I love it too. One of these days, she will dwarf him. Right now, they're still pretty even in size.

In her left hand? Her baby bath toy "Elephant" that she's slept with since Russia. She's getting so damn big (did I tell y'all she's insisting on taking showers now?! SHOWERS!!), so I love these little remnants of her babyhood.

This:

Is a thing of beauty.

We only got a 10th of an inch, but the rainbarrel is now a little more than half full. More please!!

They looked so promising as they rolled in from the east.

And gorgeous.

And the wind picked up. And the temperature fell.

But after about 25 big, fat raindrops fell, it was done.

Damnit.

If you live in Central Texas, click this and watch it.

Maybe if enough of us do, it will help those clouds that have been hanging around all day get together and actually do something.



I mean, it couldn't hurt. Right?

Cutest. Leezard. EVER.

So, I go out on the front porch yesterday evening to water some plants, and leaping around on BH's soon-to-be-potted anaqua plant was this little feller.

And when I say "little" I mean freakin' TINY.

I had my very own Cute Overload heart attack right on my own front porch!!

Say it with me people: Awwwwwwwwwwww...

The world according to The Geej.

She's not pouting, she's "resting her face."

And if you catch on fire, you should "Stop, drop and rock and roll."

Anticlimactic.

You know how in "American Idol" auditions, there are a gazillion people lined up for hours and hours waiting for their shot at fame, and then (they at least make it appear like) the people auditioning go in, do their thing, then know immediately whether or not they're going to Hollywood? And there's all this excitement and craziness? Well, picture the opposite of that, and that's what the "Don't Forget the Lyrics" auditions were like today.

I got up before the crack of dawn, got cuted up, and headed out the door at 6:40am. Got downtown to the hotel only to realized that--damnit!!--I'd accidentally left the Geej's booster seat in my backseat. So I had to turn it around and go all the way back home to drop it off so BH could take her to school.

Then my "You need gas...like NOW!" light came on, so I had to stop and take care of that. I was so flustered that I put my gas purchase ($48!) on the wrong credit card.

Finally got back on the road and got downtown and to the hotel at about 7:30. I signed in and filled out the paperwork (lots of questions like "What's the luckiest thing that's ever happened to you?" "What's the most outrageous thing you've ever done?" "How many songs are on your MP3 player?" "Who are your 5 favorite bands?" etc.), got a digital photo made and stapled to my paperwork, and then sat in a big room to wait. I was #43.

In the room, there was a big screen t.v. playing episodes of the show, and all the other auditionees in the room were singing along--loudly--with the contestants on the screen. I was playing along silently in my head, and I was winning. The other people in the room were every color, age, and body type you can imagine. There were some who'd really tried to "be wacky" with their outfits, while others were in their nurse scrubs. There were a couple of gals there with babies in strollers. And of course, there were the stereotypical obnoxious "theatre types" who never stopped chatting about themselves to those who were unlucky enough to be seated next to them.

Anyway, the next step was you got called into a big room where there were four tables--one against each wall--with a person seated behind them. You walked up to the table that DIDN'T have someone already auditioning in front of it, and gave the person your paperwork and the audition commenced. My gal was super petite and very "put together" as they say. Outfit. Hair. Make-up. Insanely white teeth. All very precisely done. We chatted about some of the stuff on my sheet, and then she asked me to sing something. Mags, you should be proud: I rocked it with ONJ's "Magic" from Xanadu. She told me I had a very nice voice and she also complimented my hair color. We chatted a bit more, and then she shook my bandaged hand, and it was over.

They're doing auditions until 7pm tonight, so she said that if I was going to be called back, it would happen later tonight or tomorrow.

I did the best I could, but I didn't really feel like she and I "clicked." She seemed pretty stiff and sort of fake--both things that I absolutely am not. I would really, really love to get a shot at being on this show because, dudes, I could fucking with it all. I'm dead serious. But hey, if it doesn't happen for me, at least I tried. Right?

In which I--once again--prove how damn awesome I am.

Today at work I:

• Managed to get a big black whiteboard marker mark right across the entire left boob-ish area of my bright green shirt while I was leading a meeting and trying to make some important points on said whiteboard
• Then followed THAT up with wetting the entire left boob-ish area of my bright green shirt with soap and water in the ladies room in an effort to remove the large black mark, then had to do the wet-boob-walk-of-shame back to my cube where I then...
• Tooted (not stinky, just noisy) loudly enough in my cube to receive two immediate IMs from neighboring cube-dwellers saying, "Dude, was that YOU?!" and "I heard that!" respectively (I've been eating a lot of roughage...what can I say?!)
• Soon after the Toot-heard-round-the-world, I had to go into ANOTHER meeting, and upon entering tripped and fell in the meeting room, somehow managing to hit a file cabinet (with my shoulder) a chair (with my knee) and the floor (with all the rest of me) HARD and, as an added bonus, managed to slice the palm of my right hand open with about a 2 1/2" cut on the in-floor air conditioning vent while also scoring some wicked carpet burn on my right knee (because I was wearing a skirt, natch) and some lovely looking surface scrapes on my right forearm and elbow

Oh, and did I mention that I'm going to a GAME SHOW AUDITION at 7am in the freakin' morning?

I swear, I am seriously the biggest dork I know. No question.

Tonight's salad is...

Insalata Caprese with Shallots and Capers*!

Mangia!!

*Capers, are currently The Geej's favorite food. She calls them "caspers" and asks me to pack them in her lunch.

Enough!

Y’all, it’s hot. I’m talking pit stains before 9:00am hot. I’m talking sweat down your butt crack hot. I’m talking sticky, unpleasant, relentless, late-August HOT! And I don’t know about the rest of you, but it is making me cranky as Hell. If you’ll recall, this time last year, Central Texas was reveling in a wetter-than-normal cooler-than-normal spring filled with gorgeous wildflowers. I don’t think we even hit 100 but a couple of times last year, and it was way later in the summer. But now? The rivers are quickly receding, we’re already on water rationing per the City, and the grass is crispy beneath our feet. To the east of Austin, it’s not quite as bad. To the west, it’s worse. I’m a Texan. I understand “hot,” and normally I can tolerate it. But to have it be so brutal so early in the year (Hell, it’s not even “officially” summer yet), is enough to turn even the toughest Texan into a sweaty, miserable grump.

Now that I’ve gotten THAT out of the way, how was your Father’s Day? Ours was good. BH’s boys were in town with one of their friends. The Geej and I skeedaddled for Saturday and Saturday night so that they could do “dude stuff” without us getting in the way. They fished. They skateboarded. They swam. They grilled. They had a nice time, and BH was a happy guy. I tried to get BH a new grill to replace our crappy one, but the jerks at Lowe’s weren’t helpful (i.e., I couldn’t get anyone to help me lift the huge box the grill I wanted comes in), so he ended up getting a Lowe’s gift card (designated for a grill purchase) instead. Totally unoriginal, I realize, but I know he—and the rest of us—will enjoy it.

Speaking of fathers, I had a funny memory of mine today: I remember when I was about 6-ish—skinny, with a light blonde and VERY unflattering chili bowl haircut—I would go visit my dad at his “Singles Only” swinging 70s apartment complex. His unit was on the ground floor, right in front of the pool. So of course I spent every waking moment of the summer days I was over there swimming. Daddy would lay out by the pool with a cooler of cold Coors and a portable radio next to him and doze all day while I yelled, “Watch this! Watch this! Watch this! Daddy! Watch!” at him about a gazillion times. (As if he might actually be interested in my canon balls or water ballet moves.) But the thing I remembered today was how annoying I was when he’d dare to bring something poolside to read. He’d be checking out the newspaper or a magazine, and I would splash him from the pool, getting whatever he was reading all wet. If THAT didn’t work, then I’d actually get out of the pool and come punch the back of the paper or magazine. And if I still wasn’t getting what I thought was adequate attention from him, I would administer a karate chop to the spine of the reading material that was often times fatal (since whatever it was probably already wet). God, what a brat, right? He would just sigh, light another cigarette and pop open another beer, and watch me for a while until he fell asleep. Those were the days…

And speaking of getting attention: I’m auditioning for a GAME SHOW on Thursday. Seriously, if there were ever a game show a) made for me that b) I might actually have a shot at winning some money on, it’s this one. I’ve never actually WATCHED the show, mind you, but I know the premise, and it taps straight into my special gift/curse, which is remembering a ridiculous amount of song lyrics in my tiny little brain. Remember my aunt’s birthday? No chance. Remember every word to “Right Down the Line” by Gerry Rafferty? I’m you’re gal. I’m actually taking a day off of work and going to the auditions, which are from like 7am to 7pm. If I don't get on the show, at least I’ll have some good people-watching story to tell with you freaks.

Things you can buy out of the back of some guy's truck* on Hwy. 71 between Austin and Marble Falls.

• Peaches
• Tomatoes
• Squash
• Tropical plants
• U.T. T-shirts
• Jerky (beef, buffalo, and turkey)
• Skulls (animal)
• Swords
• Neon beer signs

*Not the same guy/same truck. Although, that would be awesome.

The Album of the Summer

You know how there's always that one album that you can't stop listening to during the summer?

Summer of 1987: Guns and Roses, "Appetite for Destruction"
Summer of 1990: The Sundays, "Reading, Writing, Arithmetic"
Summer of 1994: Hole, "Live Through This"
Summer of 1999: Cibo Matto, "Stereotype A"
Summer of 2006, She Wants Revenge

Summer of 2008: Santogold



Cannot. Stop. Listening.

Bullet Pointed Blogpost--The Nervous Breakdown Edition

Hi.

It's me.

So, yeah...

How are you? Good, good...

This weather, eh? Hot, isn't it?

Mmm hmm...

So let's get on to the bullet points, shall we?

• Friday night (Eddie Izzard) was a blast. My friend, RJ, and I got gussied up and took a cab from her house (she lives MUCH closer to downtown than I do) to The Paramount. We arrived in time to have a couple of pre-show cocktails. We entered the auditorium just in time to see Mr. Izzard come out on to the stage amid delirious applause. For me, this was the highpoint of the performance. I like Eddie a lot. In fact, I think he's delicious. However his stand up does NOT do it for me. My humor is way different from his, and although I enjoyed looking at how his jeans fit him, I gotta say, I found myself checking my watch a lot during the performance.


• After it was over, we went to Stephen F.'s for a couple of post-show cocktails and some girl talk. (Yes, Texpatriate! Those are the earrings you made for me. I LURVE them!!)I love Stephen F.'s, but on this particular evening, the service was shite. After we left there, we took a bicycle taxi to the Four Seasons lounge for a nightcap (you know, because we TOTALLY needed one). And on the way, we got cat-called by some 20-something frat boys!! Whoot!! Score one for the Cougar Den!! I freakin' lurve the Four Seasons, by the way, despite of its high priced drinks and quota of rich old white douchebags.


• After our one drink there, we (wisely) took a cab back to RJ's, and I commenced to downing water while she had a couple more nightcaps (also known as the T.U.D.: Totally Unecessary Drink). A couple of hours and a lot of conversation later, I looked down at my watch, and it was 3:00am!! Holy Mother of God! When was the last time I stayed out until 3:00am?! I can't even remember.


• So I made my way home, and then took a shower. So I actually got in bed at about 3:45am. This wouldn't have been that big of a deal except that I had to get up the next morning and be out the door by 8:45am, drive 30 miles to meet my mom at the halfway point between her house and mine, get The Geej, and then drive straight to a...wait for it...BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR A 5 Yr. OLD CLASSMATE at the GOIN' BANANAS PLAYNASIUM & KID FREAKOUT EMPORIUM!!! Why all-caps you ask? Because that's what my morning felt like. I wasn't all that hung over. I mean, not really. The gallon of water plus the two aspirin and the Pepto Bismal I took before bed helped. But damn if I wasn't tired as all hell. So after a couple of hours of jumping in every kind of germy bouncy thing you can imagine and downing her weight in pizza and b-day cake, Geej and I went home.


• Then, which would on any other Saturday be my naptime (with The Geej), I went to my long-overdue hair cut/color appointment. And due to the special stuff I asked her to do (photos to come...It's AWESOME), my appointment took 3 hours instead of the normal 2. But then I had to go to the grocery store to pick up stuff to make the salad (mentioned in the previous post) before heading home. And the when I got home, I prepared the salad, and then bathed/bedded the Geej. I was so exhausted at the end of all of this, that I was sick to my stomach and on the verge of tears.


• Sunday was a much more reasonable day: BH went down to the Canyon Lake area to meet his boys and go tubing, while GJ and I did our cat-sitting duties for a friend, went shopping, had a fancy big girl lunch, and then did some more shopping before heading home and taking a nap. See how much nicer that is?


• Last night, I had insomnia, and was awake from about 2:30 to almost 4:00am. Awesome.


• BH and I have been talking about escaping to Marfa for a long weekend in July. God, I hope this happens, or my hair may start falling out in clumps.

Much to post about...

...I will deliver a more substansive post this evening, however, I thought I'd update you on the latest in my salad making craze:

Gazpacho Pasta Salad

Very fresh and tasty. I embellished the recipe to make it have more veggies, less pasta. It made a TON. So much in fact, that I ended up taking some over to the Malcontent abode.

Tuna Nicoise

Absolutely my favorite salad in the world. And with a $16+ piece of Ahi from Whole Foods, barely seared and sliced to go on top, along with a light homemade Dijon/lemon/champagne vinegrette, this was a little bit of heaven.

Whattaweek.

It's been windy. Hot and freakishly windy most of the week. Today we finally got some rain, but not enough to do anything other than turn things into a sauna outside. Of course the rain came after we soaked our yard on our designated watering day (yesterday).


My blog sort of got "outed" on my Team Leader survey at work. Someone thought I needed to use a bit more discretion when blogging about work. (Hi there, whoever you are!!) Anyway, I've never kept my blog a secret, but I also never went around advertising the fact I had one to folks at work. That is, until this week. I decided to just give it up, and I e-mailed the URL to the entire team because, dear friends, I have nothing to hide.


Speaking of work, things are more nuts than ususal there right now. My team is super busy, and of course everyone (including me) is taking some time off here and there because it's summer vacation season. Also, our company is sort of under a microscope right now for several reasons, and the team I'm on is being asked to create some material to respond to some of what's going on. It's just a lot, and my stomach has been in knots all week about it.


The Geej's last day of school was on Wednesday. She's spent the latter half of this week at Dah's house, but will be coming back tomorrow just in time to attend a classmate's birthday party at some place that's filled with bouncy houses. After the party, I'm going to get my hair did. My roots are (once again) out of control, and I'm looking like a shaggy mess.


But tonight? I'm going to see this guy perform:
And I could REALLY use some comedy by a handsome, cross-dressing British man and a couple of cocktails right about now.

Mea Culpa

In case you're wondering why it's pretty much quit raining in Austin and why everything's starting to dry up, well, it's my fault.

I got new gutters installed on the back of my house and then got a rainbarrel from the city, so of course, it has now ceased to rain.

I'm truly sorry.

Just trying to help you out.

In case you've been wondering where to get a camouflage bikini, you can find SEVERAL renditions of camouflage swimwear (bikinis, tankinis, one-pieces, etc.) at Academy on Brodie.

You're welcome.