Saturday, April 29, 2006
Since it's been a while since a "real" post--you know, one that's not a meme or photos or something like that--I'm betting this one's going to be all over the map.
So here goes:
The Geej has decided that she likes The Go-Gos. She also LOVES "Yellow Sarong" by Yo La Tengo. Every time it finishes playing in the car, she says "Again! Again!" like a damn Teletubbie.
I also discovered, quite by accident, that she likes WATCHING people sing. We turned on American Idol last week (a first, mind you), and she was mesmerized. She swayed and hummed and pointed at the t.v. saying, "Singing!" over and over. Whenever the singer was done, she'd say, "More! More singing!" And tonight, Etta James was on Austin City Limits, and she was mesmerized all over again. Very charming.
Remember when I said I was falling in love? Well, it's a done deal. I'm head over heels, folks. I feel like I'm a lovesick kid. The thought of him makes my heart flutter. The long and short of it is: He's a guy I grew up with (that's right: another Pine Curtain Refugee) and was friends with all through high school and into college. But, just friends. He was always cute, and funny, and unique, but my head was elsewhere. We lost track of each other shortly after our 10 yr. high school reunion in 1997. He was already married with a baby, and I was about to move to Chicago to be with the guy who would eventually become my ex-husband. Flash forward to this past December: I get an e-mail out of the blue via stupid Classmates.com, and it's him. I was thrilled to hear from him because I'd wondered 100 times what had become of him. (In fact, I'd been looking for him when I registered at classmates.com some 3 years ago.) Anyway, we start e-mailing, then talking on the phone. I find out he's divorced (since 2003) and has two boys--11 and 6. He lives in Colorado, and is still as quirky and interesting as always. He sends me photos, and I nearly melt at how handsome he is. Soon, I start having significant feelings for him. I start to feel like, oh shit, this may be THE guy. Finally, I confess that I'm crazy about him. And he does the same. He arranges a visit to see me Easter weekend, and BOOM it's on. He comes down, and it's amazing. I feel so at ease and at home and happy. It's amazing and scary and wonderful. When he leaves, I cry. I also cry the day after (and several times since). I swing back and forth between being so damn happy that he's in my life, and so sad that he's so far away that I feel like I'm on a trapeze. Then we say it: I love you. Holy cow. I'M IN LOVE!! Complicated logistics aside, this is it. He's the kind of man I'd always hoped I would have in my life--kind, deep, interesting, funny, smart, open, gentle, sensitive. And hot. What did I do to deserve this amazing guy? God, I feel blessed. I'm going up to visit him in Colorado in a few weeks, then we'll see each other again in June. This is how it will be for a while. But I'm telling you--I don't know how--but I think we're going to be together. Wow.
Work is KICKING my ass right now. Seriously. I've been at this company for 6 1/2 years, and gone through a lot of weirdness and tumultuous changes, and this is by far the most busy and stressed I've ever been. Work is rarely fun for me anymore. Thank God I like my coworkers, because if not, it would be almost unbearable. And what really sucks is that the light at the end of the tunnel is waaaaay off--like July or August. It's going to be a long summer, folks.
Found out this week that a dear friend of mine is having some serious health issues. I have utter faith that she's going to overcome it all with strength and grace, but it sure does suck. And talk about putting your daily annoyances in perspective...
Speaking of health, I had to have my yearly "let's make sure you don't have cancer" check up, bloodwork and CT scan yesterday. Drinking that barium stuff SUCKS. I don't like milk, and so anything with a milky consistency makes me wanna gag. Couple that with a chalky feel and nasty taste, and you're headed for vomit-town. So I choked down three big bottles of that shit before my CT and thought I was done. So they sit me on the machine and then hand me this little yogurt-sized cup of BARIUM PUDDING and tell me to eat it. I felt like one of those numbnuts on Fear Factor trying to choke down a cup full of worms. It was so fucking foul. It was a monumental feat in human willpower just to get each swallow down. I swear the only thing that made me not hurl was thinking that if I did, I'd just have to start over again, choking all that shit down. After it was all said and done, I thought I was fine until about 2pm, when the toilet and I became one. Yeah, I had to go home because I was so nauseous and sick to my stomach. And have I mentioned how busy I am at work? Blech.
My big dumb young cat, Earl, did something way stupid earlier this week: my deck is covered, and the rafters under the roof are exposed. He likes to climb his fat ass up there, and sit up there and stare down like the Cheshire Cat. Problem is, he's a total chubbo, so when it comes to getting down, he has problems. Well, Tuesday night, it was nice so I had the windows open. He was outside, and I was talking on the phone to Mr. Wonderful, and I hear this ginormous crash out on the deck. Dumbass had jumped down from the considerable height of the rafters and immediately started limping around, not wanting to put any weight on his front left paw. The following morning, it was even worse. So of course I have to take him to the vet and drop an enormous wad of cash in order for them to tell me the weight of the impact had caused him to hyper extend his paw and that he had a severe sprain. I've been giving him steroid/pain killers every night since, and he's doing much better. And guess where he is right this second: perched in the rafters. He is such a fidiot (that's short for "fucking idiot"--It's a new slang term I'm trying to popularize).
It looks like this fucking administration is going to drag us into yet another war in the Middle East. This time, Iran. What the FUCK? How is this nightmare even possible?! God, I wish George and Dick and Donald and Karl would all get on a damn "Patsy Cline" special and plow into a mountain side.
I paid nearly $50 to fill up my car with regular unleaded gas today. When I got home, there was my monthly statement from Shell in the mail: $208. I nearly had a heart attack.
I'm currently listening to Supertramp, The Mills Brothers, the new Cassandra Wilson, Cordero, Yo La Tengo and The Go-Gos. I'm currently reading, "The Best Guide to Eastern Philosophy and Religion" by Diane Morgan and "You're Wearing That?: Understanding Mothers and Daughters in Conversation" by Deborah Tannen.
Okay. That's it for now. I feel better--like I've cleared out the cobwebs from my dusty brain. I'm sure there's more I meant to tell you, but that's all I can muster for now.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
I am a member of the Sierra Club, and I got their most recent magazine in the mail a week or so ago. I'm thumbing through it the other night, and there's this section that has all of these great Sierra Club trips you can take backpacking and kayaking and whatnot, and I'm just sort of looking at them. And for each trip, they tell you what it's about, location, cost, name of the guide, and whether it's light, medium or strenuous activity. So I'm reading along, and I suddenly see that this one tour guide's name is...wait for it...Dick Worm. DICK MOTHERFUCKING WORM, people! How AWESOME is that?! I've often wanted to track down people with weird names like this, interview them about how having that name affected their childhoods and/or life in general, and publish a handy handbook called "What NOT to Name Your Baby." And don't even THINK about stealing this idea, cuz I'll sue your ass.
I have been having an unnatural craving for tater tots as of late. Not french fries. Not hash browns. Tater fucking tots. It's bordering on obsession.
More later. I swear.
You know I love you baby...
At first, they looked like this:
You know 'em: the garden variety, bargain basement sink fixtures that were in every apartment you ever lived in?
And now (cue the harp with the "voila!" music):
How can something this small make such a difference in the appearance of the entire room?
Monday, April 24, 2006
But instead, you've got to give the old cat her IV meds, and the young cat his flea meds and dinner and unload the dishwasher and put the baby's dinner dishes and dishes from school in there and then put the clothes that are washing in the dryer and change the cat litter and look for that letter from your mortgage lender that said what the new address was to send your May mortgage, oh, and the fish's water needs changing and you should probably also take out the trash and you really should shave your legs, which means that you'll also need to clean the tub and there are those two work e-mails you should really return because you didn't get to them today, and you really should take care of those two things, and you've got to RSVP to that one thing and make arrangements for a baby sitter for that other thing and you've got that episode of The Sopranos that you recorded last night that you want to watch and have you eaten dinner yet...
Ever feel like that?
Sunday, April 23, 2006
See what I have to resort to? A fucking meme. As if anyone cares...
I AM: Confused, most of the time.
I WANT: Health, peace and happiness for myself and those whom I love--especially my mom and daughter.
I WISH: So many things...but the most persistent is to get to a place where stress doesn't eat away at me every minute of the day.
I HATE: People who are unwilling to take responsibility for their fuckups, blissful ignorance, and Toby Keith.
I MISS: My dad and my Grandma.
I FEAR: Implosion.
I HEAR: The word "Mommy" at least 600 times a day.
I WONDER: What my life would be like right now if I'd never left Austin in 1994.
I REGRET: 90% of the guys I ever slept with.
I AM NOT: As "together" as people might imagine.
I DANCE: Despite the fact that I know how bad I am at it.
I CRY: When I hear really beautiful harmonies, and when I am really mad/tired.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: As cranky as I am right now. I promise.
I MAKE: A really good martini and kick ass guacamole.
I WRITE: Less than I'd like.
I CONFUSE: Sevens and nines. Always have. I almost can't tell them apart--it's like a very specific type of dyslexia.
I NEED: Will power. And a maid, about every other week.
I SHOULD: Start doing yoga again.
I START: Every morning saying, "Good morning, Baby Bird!" to The Geej.
I FINISH: Each night, amazed by how much my body aches despite the fact that I've done no actual "exercise."
First, there was our maiden trip on the Zilker Zephyr, which was pretty damn cool.
The Geej pretty much came unglued and tried to leave the moving train every time she saw a "dog-dog," which was about every 30 seconds or so, but other than that, it was golden. In reality, she just sat there and soaked it in for most of our journey--sitting right beside me, all big, holding her sippy cup. And I kept thinking, "Man, how cool is it going to be to get to grow up in Austin! There is so much fun ahead of us!"
During our trip through the park we noticed that a) there were shitloads of triplets about because there was some picnic gathering of folks with triplet kids, from about age 5 down to newborn. At first it was kind of cute, then it got a bit creepy as they stood there in threes, dressed just alike, slowly waving at the passing train. It was sort of like that creepy twin scene in "The Shining," but with one more kid. and b) it seemed that every picnic table that wasn't taken up with triplets and their keepers was occupied by huge, multi-generational Asian families. I guess they were all celebrating Earth Day? I don't know. It was just something I noticed.
After the train, there was much swinging (followed, of course, by a Category 5 meltdown when the swinging had to end so we could head home for lunch).
Later that afternoon, I decided to fill up the MegaPool that Dah purchased for us. Good ol' Dah... ugh. I have an automatic air pump thing, and so I hooked that up to the MegaPool, and The Geej lost her shit. She HATES loud or even semi-loud noises: vacuum cleaner, hair dryer, blender, Harley Davidson, etc. So she was trippin'. I kept trying to get her to come and touch the pool and feel how squishy and cool it was and to not lose her shit because something was a tiny bit noisy. But no. Please observe the drama queen in action:(And yes, she had on shorts earlier. She wasn't just running around like this.) So I would hook it up to a certain part, we'd go inside and watch through the door (no crying) and when it got full, I would go outside and put the nozzle on a different part of the pool (much crying). FINALLY, it was done, filled with water, and The Geej gave it a big thumbs up.
Even if all she really did was wade around in it, that's still cool.
And everything was going fine until...Mommy decided to turn on the Squirting Palm Tree of Doom. The Geej was NOT amused.
But soon after this shot, she got to eat dinner in her bathing suit (which was a treat), had a bath and konked out.
All in all, a pretty good day.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Well here's the before--the old back door that opens on to the deck:
Bad photo. Even worse door. It had been painted over about 6 times, and it was covered in deep dog claw marks, inside and out. Plus, this side of my house gets northern exposure, so not a whole lot of natural light enters the den/family room. So, I got Lowe's to install this (took them over three months and two misordered doors, mind you), and...
SO much better. And brighter. And it's got those integrated "between pane" blinds, so I don't have to worry about dusting those fuckers or having The Geej get all up in their shiz.
Okay, next project: The dining room windows.
I love my dining room. It's only been used on 4 occasions since I moved in, but still...I love the furniture, the hardwood floors, the wall color, and the fact that I even HAVE dining room just because it makes feel so grown up!! The previous owners of this house were using this room as an office/dog kennel room. What a waste. They had hung these sheers in the windows (which face the front of the house) and left them when they moved:
Not great. Not terrible. But what I disliked was the fact that there are functional windows you can open in those casings, and it was sort of impossible to get the full benefit of that with sheers stationed in the way. Also, it was never 100% private (at night) and never allowed 100% of the southern exposure sunlight in. So, I decided to do this:
Custom built plantation shutters, bitches!! It looks like a COMPLETELY new room now. Very clean and elegant. Plus, the light and privacy were totally worth it. I used The Shuttermaker (Kyle, TX) and would recommend them to anyone. Not only were they on time for the measurement/estimate visit (and came in a full $80 cheaper than my previous two estimates), they called the NEXT WEEK to schedule the install (even though the blinds wouldn't be ready for a couple of weeks) and then, the day of, called to make sure that it was okay if they were EARLY to the install. They got here, did their thing, and were gone within an hour. SO different from the band of imbeciles and no-shows at the intalled sales department at Lowe's.
So yeah. The home improvement continues. Next up: electricity and a celing fan for the covered deck, new fixtures in the master bath and some custom built-ins in there.
This crib is gonna be pimpin' before you can say "Huggy Bear."
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Case in point:
The guy who wrote the ad copy on this deserves a Pulitzer. Don't believe me? Read on...
Never be bored or alone again! Whenever you feel like it, just cuddle up to your own LOVE DOLL.
An amazingly life-like companion. A pleasure-filled 37" - 23" - 36".
Judy "The Doll that's Got It All!" (pictured above).
The original London Dolls! More than 100,000 fully-satisfied users!
I was bored and lonely until I met JUDY and SUSAN. My friends were out of town. I had nothing to do. I was bored and lonely. Then I saw a LOVE DOLL ad in a magazine. I mailed in the coupon, not really expecting much. But when the package arrived--WOW! That was the night I met JUDY. We danced...I practiced all sorts of new steps...she followed me all the way. My new LOVE DOLL seemed so life-like I really felt I had a new friend. Then I decided to send for SUSAN too. Wouldn't two be twice as nice as one? Soon, SUSAN arrived and the three of us began to play. I danced with one, then the other, then both together! It was wonderful snuggling upto JUDY, but now it was twice as nice with two LOVE DOLLS to share my nights.
Judy was made just for love. She's the original, talked-about LOVE DOLL from London. Her soft, "fleshy" vynyl skin seems almost real...both girls seem almost to breathe as they faithfully await your commands. At cocktail parties, they're conversation pieces...at home either one (or both) is fun, companionship and wild excitement. (You can even swim or shower with the bouyant beauties!) All 5' 4" of each girl features the most life-like details available in an inflatable figure. You'll find the flexible, durable dolls entertaining, versatile, surprising and accommodating. Ride around town with Judy by your side and impress your friends. You never need to be alone with Judy or Susan snuggled up next to you!
Order your LOVE DOLL today. Judy or Susan come complete with Love-like adornments: a Peek-a-Boo Negligee, darling Bikini, etc....all are included, if you order the SUPER LOVE PAK. And your LOVE DOLL is guaranteed to please or your money back! There are no strings, no hang-ups, no inhibitions--just unlimited pleasure when you have your LOVE DOLL by your side! Use this coupon to order now!For Conversation. For Companionship. For Fun. For Excitement.JUDY and SUSAN are the most taunting, tantalizing LOVE DOLLS around. And they're the only genuine London dolls! Order one or both (for double the pleasure)! Susan is Judy's Negro friend. Both dolls are 5' 4" and measure a full 37" - 23" - 36"!
Money Back Gurantee
If your LOVE DOLL does not give you complete satisfaction...if you do not agree that she is ore durable, prettier, more life-like than any other inflatable doll, simply return her within ten days. Your money wil be refunded, no questions asked. Order now!Have you ever read ANYTHING that brilliant? A conversation piece at cocktail parties? You think?
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Using the term "finger bang."
Not flushing an operational toilet in a public restroom after you've used it. I don't care if you're paranoid about germs and don't want to touch the handle. I don't want to see your turd!
Throwing your cigarette butts out of your car window. It's littering and it fucking sucks. Don't do it, asshole.
Talking on your cellphone while you're checking out at a cash register. It makes you seem like you don't think the people waiting on you are actual human beings.
Giving a shit about Tom Cruise/Katie Holmes.
Not telling me the iced tea I've ordered is a "flavored" tea...like peach hibiscus or some such shit. Tell me so that I don't nearly puke when I take that first sip expecting good ol' normal iced tea.
Not telling me if I've got pepper or spinach or something stuck in my teeth.
Monday, April 10, 2006
A few years back. My White Trash party. I was rocking some sweeeeeeeeet crimped hair and leopard print everywhere. And in true trashy fashion, I got this hot photo made with this dude, made out with another dude, and slept with yet another guy that night (and by "slept" I mean just that, because we were both waaaaaaaaaay too fucked up to do anything else. But still...). If I could dress this way every day, I would. I would LOVE to see what the yuppie mamas at daycare would think if I dropped the Geej off in this ensemble with some fake hickeys all over my neck...
I actually "dated" this guy. Sort of.
I know! I can't believe it either!! He was the older brother of a friend of mine from summer camp, and he was like 20, and I was about 15. The whole thing was simultaneously sweet and also sleazy as hell. We would get all dressed up (and judging by this photo, you can only begin to imagine how much cologne that entailed on his part), and go over to the "La Bossier" (pronounced "boss-see-yay") in Bossier (prnounced "BOHzsh-uhr") City because a) I could pass for 18 and therefore drink legally and b) we could go "clubbin'" big city style. What was his name you ask? Why "Rod," of course.
These are the two most godawful photos of me that I have. I'm sure that there's someone out there in the universe that has something more embarrassing and horrifying of me than these, but they'd have to be pretty fucking awful to beat these two gems:
Exhibit A: My 6th Grade Class Photo
The story behind the hair goes like this: Some time during my 5th grade year, my mom (who clearly hated me) got sick of me having constantly tangled hair and decided to do something about it. My hair was was all one length and blonde and really pretty (or so I thought), but I refused then, as now, to actually "do" anything to it which bugged the FUCK out of my mother who has been rolling/treating/perming her hair into a helmet since she was 12. She simply couldn't comprehend how someone could be so lazy about her hair. So she took me to the hair salon at J.C. Penney in the mall and told the hairdresser to "cut it off and make it curly...something she won't have to do anything with." I remember crying for DAYS after that happened. And it wasn't just because of the 2nd degree chemical burns caused by the perm chemicals that got infected and sent me to the minor emergency center. Oh no. It's because I came outta there looking like the photo above.
Exhibit B: Sometime between 8th and 9th grade
This lovely headshot was taken when my friend Lori W. and I went to visit her older sister in College Station. The sister--Rhonda--was like this perfect female specimen, and was in a sorority and so damn cool that all I wanted to do was be cool too. Apparently I missed the mark somewhat. Yes, I was sort of making that smirking face on purpose, but can we talk about what else was going on here? My hair is just bad, bad, bad. One side's doing its own thing while the other is on another planet. And then there are the bangs. God.
The eye makeup is epic. The braces are just plain scary. And thank GOD I finally grew into that nose of mine.
The outfit I'm wearing was this "sweater dress" that was winter white. I remember it costing a lot of money--like $80 or something--and I'd bought it to wear to my uncle's wedding. Clearly the neck is stretched out, and what was with that gold chain?
Oh yeah: The 2nd pair of earrings in each ear. I'd just gotten that second hole done in each ear, and boy did I think I was rad.
So there you have it. This is just the tip of the iceberg people. If I wanted to, this whole blog could turn into "embarrassing shit from Karla May's life" including photos, poetry, letters, locker notes, diary entries, etc. I mean, there's enough material there to go on for decades.
Maybe some day soon I'll post what I think are the BEST photos and the BEST things I've ever written, etc.
But probably not. Because you're all sick freaks, and you want to see the dorkalicioius side of Karla May. Come on...admit it.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Saturday, April 08, 2006
My friend Lainey and I went on a Saturday afternoon and had this thing taken at the Dillard's portrait studio in the mall. I clearly recall being SO happy at how my wings had turned out that day. Pure perfection. I was wearing so much hairspray, you probably could've dropped a brick on my head and I wouldn't have noticed. Lainey's hair is in French braids, and yes, I'm that much taller than her. We're both sporting Izod polos, and I'm classing up my look by wearing a strand of (fake) pearls. This wasn't the only "best friend" I went and had my portrait done with. The following year, I went and had pictures done with my "best friend" Wendy S. We decided to don Mexican dresses for that shoot. I had a total mullet that I mistakenly thought made me look punk rock, and Wendy had long hair that was totally Sun-In'd. I don't own a copy of that portrait, but trust me: It was just as awesome as it sounds.
My girlfriends and I used to get together on the weekends and take "modeling pictures." I've got a million of these things from about 6th grade, right on up through high school. This lovely shot was taken at my friend Lisa C.'s house. Her house was great to take "modeling pictures" at because she had all these pageant dress up clothes you could get gussied up in . But apparently I opted for a ski parka in this shot. My wings are RULING here. And the eye makeup? Totally classy. If you're wondering why it looks like someone punched me in the mouth, it's because I had a mouth full of metal. My braces were those totally old school kind that looked like you had ball bearings on each tooth. Thank god I only had to wear them for a year. I remember thinking that this photo was really edgy and sexy. I must've been drunk on wine coolers... Yikes.
And last but not least: 10th grade band formal. Yes, "BAND" formal. I played the French horn. Badly. And later, I was in the flag corp. So I was just as big of a dork as you might imagine.
The poor victim pictured with me here is Tommy L. He and I were pals, and even though he was a junior and like one of the most popular guys in school, he was a nice enough dude to accompany me to this lame event while I was wearing this godawful purple/green nightmare. My hair was in an "updo" that I'd had done by a lady at my mom's beauty shop, and clearly she was a genius because somehow I'm still rocking the wings AND managing tendrils at the same time. I thought this dress was SO pretty, and every girl reading this knows why I got the dress with the ruffles up on top. Hey, when you're working a AA in the bra dept., you do what you gotta do. Look at that corsage!! Egh! And just so you know, yes, I had lavender shoes on, dyed to match. Please look at how flippin' SKINNY I was. No wonder all the boys treated me like I was a guy. God, this photo makes me cringe.
Friday, April 07, 2006
- My stress hasn't subsided. If anything, I am more stressed (work wise) than I was when I wrote my last post. I am busier now than I've been in a long, long time, and it's beginning to take its toll (my skin is broken out...SEXY! And I'm just fucking exhausted).
- It's gotten hot: It's currently 95 degrees outside. Goodbye spring. Hello summer. I have zero cute warm weather clothes. I'm screwed.
- Ellen is handling her IV treatments like a champ. I can't say I've seen much improvement since I started giving them to her, but at least she's not getting any worse.
- The Geej got to hear her first ever Mariachi singing last night, and seemed to enjoy it, swaying along like Ray Charles.
- Today is the 1-year anniversary of The Geej coming in to my life for good. Her adoption was official on April 5th, but I wasn't able to get her from the orphanage until April 7th. What a year it's been. So full, so completely altering. Tonight I'm going to write her a letter to put in her baby book about what this year has meant to me. Damn, I love that little monkey.
- This season of "The Sopranos" is really good. They're going out there with a lot of deep, psychological stuff, significant symbolic stuff, and some amazing acting. I'm going to hate to see it go, but it looks like they're going to leave us full, like a good Italian meal.
- I do believe I'm falling in love. BIG time. It's scary and exciting and it's totally freaking me out. But yes: I'm gah-gah over a certain someone, and it's making me feel like a kid again. So amazing.
That's it for now. Perhaps I'll have the capacity to write more coherent posts in the near future that don't include bullet points and/or lists, but for now, this is all I can muster.
Bear with me...
Monday, April 03, 2006
Spoon (the verb, not the noun)
On a boat
Any 4 or 5 star hotel
Alamo Draft House
La Croix, lemon
Coke (real Coke. Not that aspertame-infested diet shit.)
Cherry/Lime Slush (Sonic)
Orange juice (pulp free)
King Ranch Casserole
My mom's Thanksgiving dressing
The "Louis Prima" salad at Frank and Angie's
A clean house
A balanced checkbook
Real free time
A book you can't put down or stop thinking about
A good haircut/color
Really good sheets on a freshly made bed
Laughing to the point of tears or peeing or farting (it's all good)
A massage worth the money
Tear-free mealtime/bedtime with The Geej
A good night's sleep
An honest mechanic
Feeling "in the zone" (at work; home; personally)
Good music that you get lost in
Truly original and/or moving television or film
Google image search: happy (this is what you end up with)--
If I get to go to heaven when I kick it, all of the things I listed above will be included when I describe any given day.
For now, I think I'll go stare at a wall or sort socks or something.
Time to make the donuts...
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Let's see, what else...
The Geej was slightly feverish and C-R-A-N-K-Y this weekend. There was some murky snot going on too, so I'm thinking she has a bit of a cold. This evening, she seemed back to her old self, but her mood all weekend made the only 2 things I wanted to do--a play date with her boyfriend, George and a trip to the Austin Record Convention--not happen. Add to that that it was muggy and gross outside, and I'd say this weekend sort of sucked.
While shopping at Whole Foods today I saw the following:
- A teenaged girl with her mom. The girl was wearing FULL ON pajamas, and was braless to boot. It was noon. What a fucking brat.
- A couple having a MASSIVE argument in the dairy aisle. She slammed the cart into the cold case and just made the biggest scene. The guy was mortified.
- A guy in the paper towel aisle just drinking a beer, like it was the most normal thing in the world. When I sort of looked at him, he said, "Hair of the dog."
It's now 9:22 (thanks, time change!), and I'm sitting down to do, you guessed it, work. I am in what you would call a foul, foul mood.