So I'm thinking of 2008, as most people are doing this time of year. It was not an easy year for me, in fact, 2007 wasn't so great either, so I'm due for a great 2009, and, being the eternal optimist that I am, I have great hope for 2009. So what did I do this past year?
1. I ate escargot for the first time. It was good, but slap some mushrooms in a wine, garlic and butter sauce and I would be just as happy.
2. I shot a gun at a gun range, and I really liked it. I used to be scared of shooting, but now I want to practice more, since it turns out that I am a pretty good shot.
3. I went to the doctor and got a physical. I had been putting it off forever, but since I was feeling progressively more crappy, and kept gaining weight even though I mostly ate like a bird, it was necessary, and I was proud of myself for doing it.
4. I lost 30 pounds. Turned out that the reason I felt crappy and was gaining weight was because I had absolutely no metabolism, courtesy of my thyroid being a lazy bitch. So I now take a pill every day, and the weight is still coming off.
5. I jumped in a pool fully dressed. Okay so it was at a party, and I had some wine in me, and it was for a prize. But if you knew how reserved I am, and saw the surprised looks on my friends' faces, you would get how big a deal this was. So glad I was not wearing a white t-shirt.
6. I stepped up my volunteering at church. I now serve in three different areas of the church, and am so happy I did this. I now know so many more people, and am glad for the relationships.
There are certainly a lot more things I could put here, but those come to mind right now. I'm not going to make resolutions, because those are pure crap. Why put restrictions on your life in friggin January, one of the coldest and lamest months of the year? I am just going to say that next year I hope to be an improved version of me.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Toe socks and tomes
Oh hi hello neglected blog and my two whole blog readers. I am back....for now, until I get distracted by another creative pursuit, or just something shiny.
It takes that little apparently.
So what to say. My holidays were fun. I had too much to eat and too much to drink. I wrote a lot on my novel. I truly enjoyed fleshing out the book. It felt like I was breathing life into the nostrils of some characters....people....that I dig. All in all, I wrote about 55 pages of text. Of course that is not diddly squat for a novel, so there is much more writing to be done, but my book is in a happy place right now, and since my creative bend is now in a different direction, I'm gonna let the characters breathe on their own a little, and visit them sometime soon.
So for Christmas my sister got me skeins of fun yarns, so I have been all about knitting. I am currently knitting a shawl, and I love how the silky yarn feels in my fingers, and enjoy the tap tap tap of the knitting needles against each other. I will finish the shawl off with pom pom ties, because my wardrobe is severely deficient in the pom pom area, and they are damn fun.
It takes very little to make me merry. That is a good thing I am sure. The funnest thing I got for Christmas was.....drumroll please.......toe socks. OMG I love them so much. They are striped blue, green, cream and burgundy, and my toes are now swaddled in softness, as toes should be. I will take a picture when I next wear them, because they are just so lovely.
So here you have it. A few short paragraphs that sum up over a month of blog neglect. I would promise to do better, but yeahhhh I ain't gonna do that.
It takes that little apparently.
So what to say. My holidays were fun. I had too much to eat and too much to drink. I wrote a lot on my novel. I truly enjoyed fleshing out the book. It felt like I was breathing life into the nostrils of some characters....people....that I dig. All in all, I wrote about 55 pages of text. Of course that is not diddly squat for a novel, so there is much more writing to be done, but my book is in a happy place right now, and since my creative bend is now in a different direction, I'm gonna let the characters breathe on their own a little, and visit them sometime soon.
So for Christmas my sister got me skeins of fun yarns, so I have been all about knitting. I am currently knitting a shawl, and I love how the silky yarn feels in my fingers, and enjoy the tap tap tap of the knitting needles against each other. I will finish the shawl off with pom pom ties, because my wardrobe is severely deficient in the pom pom area, and they are damn fun.
It takes very little to make me merry. That is a good thing I am sure. The funnest thing I got for Christmas was.....drumroll please.......toe socks. OMG I love them so much. They are striped blue, green, cream and burgundy, and my toes are now swaddled in softness, as toes should be. I will take a picture when I next wear them, because they are just so lovely.
So here you have it. A few short paragraphs that sum up over a month of blog neglect. I would promise to do better, but yeahhhh I ain't gonna do that.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Chapter 4
I am back to writing my novel, and it feels pretty good. Here's an excerpt:
Chapter 4
Home. She loved her apartment. Josie lives in the front, right corner of a rambling old house on West End Avenue. Her neighbor and landlady is a dear friend, Frances Hartman-Merriweather. Frances was always perfectly dressed, coiffed and smells of Chanel No. 5. She had an age but never told it, because she often said “women should never divulge their age or number of lovers.” Frances is Tom’s aunt, and is a fountain of wonderful stories and adventures.
Josie heard a soft knock at the door, and then a sweet Southern voice that dripped of magnolia.
“Josie dear are you decent?”
“Frances you don’t have to knock.”
“Oh honey I will always knock just in case you are in the throes of passion with an amorous lover. It’s the appropriate thing to do sugar.”
“Ha nope no lovers tonight. Just me, you, Scooter and Thai food.”
“Mmmmm that pad thai smells decadent. Reminds me of a lovely summer I had on Kamala Bay with Prince Annan.”
“Prince Annan? Did Charles know about him?”
“Oh honey this was years before I met my dear departed husband, I was a teenager when my father was stationed in Thailand. Those steamy summer nights on the bay….I cried for weeks when we returned to the States. Then Prince Annan was just a lovely memory once I met my dear Charles.”
Charles Merriweather was a well-respected pediatrician in Nashville. He ran his practice out of his home, and Frances was his assistant. Frances and Charles never had children of their own, but they considered every patient they took care of family. Charles died shortly after their 42nd wedding anniversary. Alzheimers robbed him of his memories, but Frances posted all the patient pictures she could find on the walls of their bedroom when the end was near. Thousands of family members lined the walls of that bedroom when he passed.
“So Tom says he’s given you a project that has to do with Eldridge Hartman?”
“Yep I’m going to start on it tomorrow.”
“To this day I will not buy The Tennessean. They printed such lies about poor old Great Uncle El.”
“Like what Frances?”
“Oh the paper claimed that Eldridge committed suicide by hanging himself in his office closet. Such fabrications. He had nothing to be unhappy about. His was a life filled with men’s pursuits and loose women. What man would hate that?”
“Ha you have a point there. He certainly was a man’s man.”
“And he was as rich as Roosevelt, but his fortune was never found. I think the gold was taken by corrupt police investigators. Eldridge was not one to trust banks. The safe in his office was empty when the police arrived, and none of his employees turned immediately rich after his demise. Hoooo I am still feeling the heat from the pad thai. Please excuse me whilst I dab some cold water on my neck.”
“Powder room is all yours.”
“Honey the cold water knob came right off. Why don’t you ask Dan to lend a hand?”
Yeah that’s probably because I loosened it earlier as an excuse to get Dan up here, Josie thought to herself. There are only so many times you can tamper with the floaty thing in the toilet before a hot handy man will get suspicious. So she changed up her routine, and then forgot.
“Oh um sure Frances, I’ll call him right now.”
Dan was up in Josie’s apartment in under a minute. Dan was gorgeous, but in a rugged I-don't-know-that-I-am-a-Greek-God sorta way. Josie watched as Dan bent over and reached for a wrench in his bag. His brown hair that really needed a haircut fell in his face, and he pushed it back. She wanted to offer to hold it back for him...with her teeth. She sighed, and looked over at Frances, who was staring at her with a wizened smirk on her face.
“Anything else you need?” Dan asked as he bent over again to return the wrench to his bag.”
“Damn.”
“What was that Josie?”
“Oh um nothing. I said done. Ahhh yeah nothing else. Thank you Dan.”
My bed could use some servicing came to her mind as quickly as she tried to stifle the thought.
“You’re welcome Josie. You know where I am if you need anything.”
“Hot….ha um thanks again Dan.” Josie closed the door and wondered how many brain cells just shot out of her mouth.
“Oh lord girl will you jump him already?”
“Frances!”
“Honey you are a lovely woman, and Dan, well he’s just gorgeous. If there was any more chemistry in this room there would be an explosion. I love a good drama, but every drama needs a romantic interlude.”
“I know Frances. I would love a romantic interlude. Life is just complicated right now.”
“Everyone has complicated lives. Complication and drama make life worth living. Without it we would just go through the motions of living, but never actually experience life.”
“True Frances, true.”
Chapter 4
Home. She loved her apartment. Josie lives in the front, right corner of a rambling old house on West End Avenue. Her neighbor and landlady is a dear friend, Frances Hartman-Merriweather. Frances was always perfectly dressed, coiffed and smells of Chanel No. 5. She had an age but never told it, because she often said “women should never divulge their age or number of lovers.” Frances is Tom’s aunt, and is a fountain of wonderful stories and adventures.
Josie heard a soft knock at the door, and then a sweet Southern voice that dripped of magnolia.
“Josie dear are you decent?”
“Frances you don’t have to knock.”
“Oh honey I will always knock just in case you are in the throes of passion with an amorous lover. It’s the appropriate thing to do sugar.”
“Ha nope no lovers tonight. Just me, you, Scooter and Thai food.”
“Mmmmm that pad thai smells decadent. Reminds me of a lovely summer I had on Kamala Bay with Prince Annan.”
“Prince Annan? Did Charles know about him?”
“Oh honey this was years before I met my dear departed husband, I was a teenager when my father was stationed in Thailand. Those steamy summer nights on the bay….I cried for weeks when we returned to the States. Then Prince Annan was just a lovely memory once I met my dear Charles.”
Charles Merriweather was a well-respected pediatrician in Nashville. He ran his practice out of his home, and Frances was his assistant. Frances and Charles never had children of their own, but they considered every patient they took care of family. Charles died shortly after their 42nd wedding anniversary. Alzheimers robbed him of his memories, but Frances posted all the patient pictures she could find on the walls of their bedroom when the end was near. Thousands of family members lined the walls of that bedroom when he passed.
“So Tom says he’s given you a project that has to do with Eldridge Hartman?”
“Yep I’m going to start on it tomorrow.”
“To this day I will not buy The Tennessean. They printed such lies about poor old Great Uncle El.”
“Like what Frances?”
“Oh the paper claimed that Eldridge committed suicide by hanging himself in his office closet. Such fabrications. He had nothing to be unhappy about. His was a life filled with men’s pursuits and loose women. What man would hate that?”
“Ha you have a point there. He certainly was a man’s man.”
“And he was as rich as Roosevelt, but his fortune was never found. I think the gold was taken by corrupt police investigators. Eldridge was not one to trust banks. The safe in his office was empty when the police arrived, and none of his employees turned immediately rich after his demise. Hoooo I am still feeling the heat from the pad thai. Please excuse me whilst I dab some cold water on my neck.”
“Powder room is all yours.”
“Honey the cold water knob came right off. Why don’t you ask Dan to lend a hand?”
Yeah that’s probably because I loosened it earlier as an excuse to get Dan up here, Josie thought to herself. There are only so many times you can tamper with the floaty thing in the toilet before a hot handy man will get suspicious. So she changed up her routine, and then forgot.
“Oh um sure Frances, I’ll call him right now.”
Dan was up in Josie’s apartment in under a minute. Dan was gorgeous, but in a rugged I-don't-know-that-I-am-a-Greek-God sorta way. Josie watched as Dan bent over and reached for a wrench in his bag. His brown hair that really needed a haircut fell in his face, and he pushed it back. She wanted to offer to hold it back for him...with her teeth. She sighed, and looked over at Frances, who was staring at her with a wizened smirk on her face.
“Anything else you need?” Dan asked as he bent over again to return the wrench to his bag.”
“Damn.”
“What was that Josie?”
“Oh um nothing. I said done. Ahhh yeah nothing else. Thank you Dan.”
My bed could use some servicing came to her mind as quickly as she tried to stifle the thought.
“You’re welcome Josie. You know where I am if you need anything.”
“Hot….ha um thanks again Dan.” Josie closed the door and wondered how many brain cells just shot out of her mouth.
“Oh lord girl will you jump him already?”
“Frances!”
“Honey you are a lovely woman, and Dan, well he’s just gorgeous. If there was any more chemistry in this room there would be an explosion. I love a good drama, but every drama needs a romantic interlude.”
“I know Frances. I would love a romantic interlude. Life is just complicated right now.”
“Everyone has complicated lives. Complication and drama make life worth living. Without it we would just go through the motions of living, but never actually experience life.”
“True Frances, true.”
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Apple Treasure Cookie Quest
So the Husband just called to say that a lady from church requested my e-mail, so that she could send me an invite to a cookie party. Since it is not bridal or baby shower, which I always try to avoid, I will for certain go, especially since the theme involves cookies, and I fully support the cookie yo.
So then that got me to thinking....what sort of cookie should I make? I can make peanut butter cookies in a jiffy, and I'm sure there will be many iterations on the chocolate theme, so what to do?
Then that set my mind clock spinning into past cookie loves, which sent me to Pomona, New York. Every year, the family would go upstate to Pomona in the fall for apple picking. Along the way we always stopped at this specific store and got pies and cookies. Said cookie purchase always included a bag of "Apple Treasure Cookies." They were chewy but not tough, cake-like, a reddish sort of brown, and they had bits of apple, peanuts, perhaps raisins and probably a bit of elfin magic, because they were that awesome.
I'm sure no one else would think of making anything like the Apple Treasure Cookie, so now I am totally fixated on the idea.
So I googled "Apple Treasure Cookies" and alas nothing popped up that was right. I am still searching, but if any of my many 2 readers have any intersting apple cookie recipe, or even know about the Apple Treasure Cookie love, help a sistah out mmmmkay?
So then that got me to thinking....what sort of cookie should I make? I can make peanut butter cookies in a jiffy, and I'm sure there will be many iterations on the chocolate theme, so what to do?
Then that set my mind clock spinning into past cookie loves, which sent me to Pomona, New York. Every year, the family would go upstate to Pomona in the fall for apple picking. Along the way we always stopped at this specific store and got pies and cookies. Said cookie purchase always included a bag of "Apple Treasure Cookies." They were chewy but not tough, cake-like, a reddish sort of brown, and they had bits of apple, peanuts, perhaps raisins and probably a bit of elfin magic, because they were that awesome.
I'm sure no one else would think of making anything like the Apple Treasure Cookie, so now I am totally fixated on the idea.
So I googled "Apple Treasure Cookies" and alas nothing popped up that was right. I am still searching, but if any of my many 2 readers have any intersting apple cookie recipe, or even know about the Apple Treasure Cookie love, help a sistah out mmmmkay?
Monday, December 1, 2008
Fish Pedicure Anyone?
Y'all. This is some crazy shizzle. I have not seen this sort of pedicure offered in the spas of Nashville, but it is only a matter of time. Don't people see the danger in this?
The fish are going to overtake us an eat us, without a delicious wine and butter sauce.
Apparently, you can now go to some spas and get a fish pedicure, where you place your feet in warm water and fish, known as "doctor fish" yomp at the dead skin cells on your tootsies. You get to pay $35 for this treatment according to this article.
People that get this treatment describe the sensation of nibbling fish as "ticklish." Hell to the no. These fools are getting fish used to the idea of eating humans, which is so wrong on the carnivore food chain. We eat the fishes, not the other way around. These doctor fish probably have a collective intelligence with other species of fish. Soon goldfish and other supposedly friendly pets will leap from their bowls and feast on our flesh....leaving only our skeletons in their wake as testament to our foolish quest for smooth feet.
If you want smooth feet use a pumice stone. At least rocks don't have brains or any ability to move (except for gravity and merry throwing).
I can't look out for all of y'all forever. Be safe and don't tempt the fishes.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
I'd like my turkey with a side order of meat please
Firstly I would like to wish all of my two readers a very Happy Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving, and usually entertain the family at my house, but this year I have a break, and am going to my parents house. I must say, even though I really do love cooking the Thanksgiving meal, it is going to be really nice just to be a guest at Thanksgiving, and not having a mountain of dishes and the exhaustion thereafter will be a treat as well.
I have done all sorts of turkey recipies....one where I placed a mosaic of herbs under the skin, and one year I ordered a turducken. Just in case you don't know what it is, it is a turkey stuffed with a chicken that is stuffed with a duck. I know that sounds perhaps a bit lewd, but trust me it is indeed delicious.
And then this morning I found this meaty mammoth on the intertubes:
Y'all what you are seeing is a turducken that has been wrapped in bacon. Jeebus it looks like something a butcher tripping on acid would create, but who can deny the deliciousness of bacon? Surely I cannot - bacon makes everything better, and I must say that the druggie butcher that thought this up is genius.
Here is the beast fully cooked:
Oooooh gimme a piece of that y'all!
Images courtesy of http://bacontoday.com/turbaconducken-turducken-wrapped-in-bacon/
I have done all sorts of turkey recipies....one where I placed a mosaic of herbs under the skin, and one year I ordered a turducken. Just in case you don't know what it is, it is a turkey stuffed with a chicken that is stuffed with a duck. I know that sounds perhaps a bit lewd, but trust me it is indeed delicious.
And then this morning I found this meaty mammoth on the intertubes:
Y'all what you are seeing is a turducken that has been wrapped in bacon. Jeebus it looks like something a butcher tripping on acid would create, but who can deny the deliciousness of bacon? Surely I cannot - bacon makes everything better, and I must say that the druggie butcher that thought this up is genius.
Here is the beast fully cooked:
Oooooh gimme a piece of that y'all!
Images courtesy of http://bacontoday.com/turbaconducken-turducken-wrapped-in-bacon/
Friday, November 21, 2008
Want
There are not many things I miss about New York. I fell in love with Nashville and middle Tennessee shortly after moving here, and getting over the culture shock. For example, if you are walking on a downtown street in Nashville, and make eye contact with a stranger, said stranger will smile and or say hello to you. My New York friends will think that is some crazy shit, but it is indeed true.
I usually miss New York around this time of year, when the weather gets cold and I think of my Italian extended famliy gathering in Queens, around a big table, with really gorgeous food that I would kill for right now.
I would really like to replicate my Nonno's minestrone, but so far that has proved to be impossible, because I think it was infused with his soul as he stirred the pot over and over until it was ladeled into bowls.
There is another problem with growing up with Northern Italian cuisine and being far removed from a lot of Northern Italians. It is hard as shit to find certain products here in the South.
Perfect example: cappeletti. Oh, you say you are not familiar with this? Well, let me 'splain by all means. Cappelletti is a pasta extremely similar to tortellini, but they are smaller, and mostly consumed in broth as a first course for either a Christmas Day or Christmas Eve dinner. It is by far the most perfect and gorgeous soup I have ever had. I would not even bother asking a grocery store clerk if they carried cappeletti, because they would invariably scratch their noggin and be like "cappawhat?", so I would just be happy finding a good frozen meat tortellini, but alas I have not found any.
Sad y'all, so sad.
So I guess I will have to make the pasta myself, which is the textbook definition of labor intensive. It will be a chore for me, because my cooking style is quick, combine flavors on the fly sort of cooking, and this is more like manufacturing. But I am desparate, so I think this will happen before winter is over. I need a fix.
I usually miss New York around this time of year, when the weather gets cold and I think of my Italian extended famliy gathering in Queens, around a big table, with really gorgeous food that I would kill for right now.
I would really like to replicate my Nonno's minestrone, but so far that has proved to be impossible, because I think it was infused with his soul as he stirred the pot over and over until it was ladeled into bowls.
There is another problem with growing up with Northern Italian cuisine and being far removed from a lot of Northern Italians. It is hard as shit to find certain products here in the South.
Perfect example: cappeletti. Oh, you say you are not familiar with this? Well, let me 'splain by all means. Cappelletti is a pasta extremely similar to tortellini, but they are smaller, and mostly consumed in broth as a first course for either a Christmas Day or Christmas Eve dinner. It is by far the most perfect and gorgeous soup I have ever had. I would not even bother asking a grocery store clerk if they carried cappeletti, because they would invariably scratch their noggin and be like "cappawhat?", so I would just be happy finding a good frozen meat tortellini, but alas I have not found any.
Sad y'all, so sad.
So I guess I will have to make the pasta myself, which is the textbook definition of labor intensive. It will be a chore for me, because my cooking style is quick, combine flavors on the fly sort of cooking, and this is more like manufacturing. But I am desparate, so I think this will happen before winter is over. I need a fix.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Gone
The 4th floor is empty.
Gone is the cowbell.
Gone are the ceremonial throwing chairs.
Gone is the miniature baseball bat used for therapeutic purposes.
Gone are the people that I have worked with for many, many months.
I am a solitary person by nature. I have never had a lot of friends - not because I have cooties or anything, but I have always been happy entertaining myself. It's a middle child thing. Since March, I have worked with a great group of people. Yes, they were young, crude, and took the Lord's name in vain a lot, but I loved their spirits and their passion.
And now it is all done, and I am back working by myself in the solitude of the second floor, slowly getting back to the job I used to do and was good at. It feels like a warm blanket that was just waiting for me all this time.
Except now I am alone. I guess I am in a period of mourning for the cameraderie. I feel numb.
Gone is the cowbell.
Gone are the ceremonial throwing chairs.
Gone is the miniature baseball bat used for therapeutic purposes.
Gone are the people that I have worked with for many, many months.
I am a solitary person by nature. I have never had a lot of friends - not because I have cooties or anything, but I have always been happy entertaining myself. It's a middle child thing. Since March, I have worked with a great group of people. Yes, they were young, crude, and took the Lord's name in vain a lot, but I loved their spirits and their passion.
And now it is all done, and I am back working by myself in the solitude of the second floor, slowly getting back to the job I used to do and was good at. It feels like a warm blanket that was just waiting for me all this time.
Except now I am alone. I guess I am in a period of mourning for the cameraderie. I feel numb.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Painting
So a couple posts ago I mentioned a canvas that was a field of blue. It has been staring at me, for months.
I had painter's block for serious.
I did not have clue as to what I wanted the subject of the painting to be, so it sat on an easel in my living room. Mocking me with its haughty blueness.
Saturday I was sitting in the living room, ignoring the canvas that was parallel to my field of vision whilst watching the TV.
And then it came to me. Why not paint something loved? So I painted a ballerina. I have loved ballerinas since I was a child and had a Sugar Plum Fairy Barbie. My barbie was awesome. She had a sparkly deep pink costume and pink toe shoes, and of course she had a tiara, so she was my favorite, and never got the butch haircut that my other barbies fell victim to when I got bored with them.
I got my paints and brushes out, sketched the ballerina on the canvas in pencil, and a few hours later I had my ballerina.
I love love love her. I love her flowy skirt. I love the movement and the sense of freedom. She is not confined to anything. I do not like painting faces to my subjects. I'd rather leave my subjects so that they can be any person. Does that make sense? It makes sense in my mind, so yay.
Now when I look at my easel in the living room, she greet me, like a celebration, and I smile. Eventually this will hang in my bedroom, but I'll let her enjoy the living room for a while.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Eight or Two
So my dear friend owns a store, and she said that a couple was browsing the store when she saw on the internet that the bailout had not passed. The fella part of the couple did not know what she was talking about. That is amazing to me, and was to her, but the lady he was up on current events.
As she told this story to me, I distilled this observation down to a simple truth: some men don't notice anything unless it has eight points or two boobs.
I present this art and dedicate it to the clueless fella that visited my friend's store today. Hope there isn't a bear or anything ferocious close by when that idiot sees this:
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Appetizer Hell
Okay so I was bored. I admit it. I searched for interesting appetizers on a website, and what I found was mostly disturbing y'all. Some of the creations were just hideous. If you are of a sensitive disposition, you may want to leave this blog, because the pictures I am about to share with you ain't purty.
I present to you "Funny Face Taco Dip." Their is nothing funny or appetizing about this. In a matter of a few scoops, this will look like a botched plastic surgery. Is that a broccoli tumor growing out of the head???
Reduced Fat Veggie Pizza. Hell to the no. First of all, you are presumably serving this at a party. Is this a party for friends or people that you want to hate your guts? Don't serve anything "reduced fat" at a party. Parties are meant for fun, and there's nothing fun about "reduced fat." Have the full fat, in moderation, and enjoy your damn party. Plus when something is called pizza, I expect gooey cheese. There's nothing gooey looking about that picture. Slap some brie or whole milk mozzarella on that already.
Bavarian snack ring. Jeebus y'all. Is it just me or does this look like something Freddie Krueger would serve? The main ingredients are sausage and sauerkraut. So, if you have a methane gas shortage in your house environment, feel free to serve this and breathe deeply.
Spinach dip holiday wreath. This would be classified in a personal category of mine called "Precious foods that should only be prepared by ladies named Eunice with huge Texas hair."
Cheezy dice. I have no words left.I couldn't stand looking at anymore. Learn from this post friends.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
An Ode to Autumn
Oh joy! Just the other day marked the first day of autumn. I am ready y'all. I have pants and sweaters and hilarious socks that I haven't worn in forever. Just one thing....
Could someone please turn the heat off outside already? Y'all the high temperature is still in the 80's. Not exactly sweater weather.
I want to walk in the crisp air, perhaps through a corn maze. I want to take long drives in the country admire the foliage. I want to bake pies and make recipes that require squash.
This weekend I will pull the box out of storage that has all my fall decorations in it. Mr. Turkey, who is almost as tall at me, will take his place on my loveseat in the study, with his legs crossed like a proper gentleman, and will freak my cats out. Who is this tall, possibly delicious bird, and how can I fit him in my belly they might say.
So my house will celebrate fall after this weekend, even if the temperature won't cooperate.
Could someone please turn the heat off outside already? Y'all the high temperature is still in the 80's. Not exactly sweater weather.
I want to walk in the crisp air, perhaps through a corn maze. I want to take long drives in the country admire the foliage. I want to bake pies and make recipes that require squash.
This weekend I will pull the box out of storage that has all my fall decorations in it. Mr. Turkey, who is almost as tall at me, will take his place on my loveseat in the study, with his legs crossed like a proper gentleman, and will freak my cats out. Who is this tall, possibly delicious bird, and how can I fit him in my belly they might say.
So my house will celebrate fall after this weekend, even if the temperature won't cooperate.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I ate too much, and now think too much.
So the bank that occupies space in my building had lunch for bank patrons today. Since I am a patron of the bank, I got me some free lunch. It was Whitt's BBQ, and it was delicious... too delicious.
I ate, then ate some more, then had a brownie, and now I am a sloth. Y'all I am so uninspired to do anything. Why oh why did I do it? Oh yeah that's right, because slow smoked meat is goooood.
My slothful state makes me want to get up an do something, but all the stuff I want to do is really at home. My house is a disaster, and we don't have any solid plans for this weekend, so I'd really like to have a "get your shit together" weekend....perhaps even dust off the vacuum and freak the cats out. I need to do something. Perhaps actually finish one of my projects? Hmmmm let's think of what there is:
1. My novel that is fully outlined? Only if I am drunk, and Richard Armitage is feeding me grapes.
2. My painting that is nothing but a field of blue? Only if Richard Armitage is sitting just beyond my easel on a stool, in the nude.
3. The beaded bracelet that is almost finished? I can't think of a way to tie Richard Armitage into this one, but yeah that ain't happening either.
Oh hi hello sexxxxxxy.
Tonight we have a party to go to, but tomorrow morning I am going to work from room to room, getting "our shit together" since the husband will probably be working in his office, hopefully getting "his shit together" in there.
If you are out there, and you dig my blog (as if anyone wouldn't) please add yourself to the follow thingy on the right sidebar. I need validation, and everyone knows that blogs are the only way to feel validated.
I ate, then ate some more, then had a brownie, and now I am a sloth. Y'all I am so uninspired to do anything. Why oh why did I do it? Oh yeah that's right, because slow smoked meat is goooood.
My slothful state makes me want to get up an do something, but all the stuff I want to do is really at home. My house is a disaster, and we don't have any solid plans for this weekend, so I'd really like to have a "get your shit together" weekend....perhaps even dust off the vacuum and freak the cats out. I need to do something. Perhaps actually finish one of my projects? Hmmmm let's think of what there is:
1. My novel that is fully outlined? Only if I am drunk, and Richard Armitage is feeding me grapes.
2. My painting that is nothing but a field of blue? Only if Richard Armitage is sitting just beyond my easel on a stool, in the nude.
3. The beaded bracelet that is almost finished? I can't think of a way to tie Richard Armitage into this one, but yeah that ain't happening either.
Oh hi hello sexxxxxxy.Tonight we have a party to go to, but tomorrow morning I am going to work from room to room, getting "our shit together" since the husband will probably be working in his office, hopefully getting "his shit together" in there.
If you are out there, and you dig my blog (as if anyone wouldn't) please add yourself to the follow thingy on the right sidebar. I need validation, and everyone knows that blogs are the only way to feel validated.
Monday, September 15, 2008
No autographs please
Is is snowing in Hawaii? Nope but it is true this is a second post in the very same day. I almost forgot to tell my super amazing story of how I am shortly to be an extremely famous model.
And you knew me when I was the humble, sometimes clever blogger. Consider yourself honored.
So I was getting gas at the Mapco in my 'hood, and decided we also needed the sweet, sweet nectar known as beer, so as my husband pumped gas, I got the beverage. I put my purchase on the counter, and the clerk asked for my ID. Two seconds later her eyes bugged....for serious....and she said "Wow. You could make so much money."
Uhhhhh come again?
I must admit my driver's license picture is a total fluke. I actually like it, and look very pretty. I was having a good hair day, wearing a favorite top, and I even had makeup on. So the clerk went on to say that she was a model scout, and she knew a photographer that would absolutely love me.
I told her that she was kind, and left it at that. My beer was getting warm yo.
She then said "I don't usually do this..." as she rummaged through her purse. She pulled out a white business card, scratched through a phone number and then hand wrote another, gave it to me and said "If you ever change your mind."
So I put the card in my purse, grabbed my beer and got out of there. When I got home I looked at the card.
The first thought that popped into my mind was porn y'all. It was the clerk's picture on the card, but she must have powers of disguise like Superman, because as a mild-mannered clerk she wore glasses, no makeup, and her hair was pulled back. On the card she was a sultry vixen with massive cans. A google search quickly found her model profile. She is indeed a model, and her profile says that she will not do porn, but the pictures on her profile were extremely provocative.
I haven't called, and I don't know that I will. How on earth am I to believe a "model scout" that works behind the Mapco register (probably just to use her Superman powers for the greater good) that I am going to make "so much money." If she was great at her job, should she be working at the Mapco making my beer get warm?
Quandry y'all.
And you knew me when I was the humble, sometimes clever blogger. Consider yourself honored.
So I was getting gas at the Mapco in my 'hood, and decided we also needed the sweet, sweet nectar known as beer, so as my husband pumped gas, I got the beverage. I put my purchase on the counter, and the clerk asked for my ID. Two seconds later her eyes bugged....for serious....and she said "Wow. You could make so much money."
Uhhhhh come again?
I must admit my driver's license picture is a total fluke. I actually like it, and look very pretty. I was having a good hair day, wearing a favorite top, and I even had makeup on. So the clerk went on to say that she was a model scout, and she knew a photographer that would absolutely love me.
I told her that she was kind, and left it at that. My beer was getting warm yo.
She then said "I don't usually do this..." as she rummaged through her purse. She pulled out a white business card, scratched through a phone number and then hand wrote another, gave it to me and said "If you ever change your mind."
So I put the card in my purse, grabbed my beer and got out of there. When I got home I looked at the card.
The first thought that popped into my mind was porn y'all. It was the clerk's picture on the card, but she must have powers of disguise like Superman, because as a mild-mannered clerk she wore glasses, no makeup, and her hair was pulled back. On the card she was a sultry vixen with massive cans. A google search quickly found her model profile. She is indeed a model, and her profile says that she will not do porn, but the pictures on her profile were extremely provocative.
I haven't called, and I don't know that I will. How on earth am I to believe a "model scout" that works behind the Mapco register (probably just to use her Superman powers for the greater good) that I am going to make "so much money." If she was great at her job, should she be working at the Mapco making my beer get warm?
Quandry y'all.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Chicago!
Oh hi hello gentle readers. I am back from a long weekend in Chicago. As you might have gleaned from my infrequent posts to my neglected blog (sorry!), my dear husband is a photographer. Granted, he does sports and corporate photography, but most of our gigs are weddings, and we had a wedding this past weekend in a suburb of Chicago, called Geneva.
Y'all it was charming. That is really the best word to describe it....charming. It was not a contrived town like Las Vegas, when you turn your head and all you see is set design on a grand scale. It is charming without being hosed in Thomas Kinkade preciousness. I would totally live there if I did not have to work for da man.
So we drove in the scary, car-sliding rain to Illinois (since we had a ton of gear it just made sense to drive). The wedding went absolutely fine. The sky was perfect blue with fluffy clouds, and the temperature was a high of 72. The reception was fun. Gotta love an open bar - it makes for relaxed pictures - except when people abuse the open bar and are idiots, but everyone behaved at this reception. The couple gave favors to their guests; fancy wine bottle stoppers for the men, and pashminas for the ladies. There were a bunch left over at the end, so I now have three (tiffany blue, pink and burgundy) and the generous bride gave us a bottle of champagne when we left for the night.
So that was Saturday, and Sunday was all ours. We drove into Chicago proper and stayed at our usual downtown hotel. We walked around for many hours, lounged under a shady tree in Millennium Park, and ate deep dish pizza at Pizzeria Due (owned by Pizzeria Uno, but cuter). That evening we went to a niiiiice dinner at a restaurant next door to our hotel, the Capital Grille.
On Monday we conducted a bit of business, and we were back on the road to Nashville. I spent 85% of the trip coughing and sneezing, and somehow managed to get another cold, EVEN THOUGH I HAD ONE JUST A MONTH AGO. So effing unfair.
And here I am, high on Dayquil, warm with a pashmina on my shoulders, working for da man.
I left the champagne at home. Damn.
Y'all it was charming. That is really the best word to describe it....charming. It was not a contrived town like Las Vegas, when you turn your head and all you see is set design on a grand scale. It is charming without being hosed in Thomas Kinkade preciousness. I would totally live there if I did not have to work for da man.
So we drove in the scary, car-sliding rain to Illinois (since we had a ton of gear it just made sense to drive). The wedding went absolutely fine. The sky was perfect blue with fluffy clouds, and the temperature was a high of 72. The reception was fun. Gotta love an open bar - it makes for relaxed pictures - except when people abuse the open bar and are idiots, but everyone behaved at this reception. The couple gave favors to their guests; fancy wine bottle stoppers for the men, and pashminas for the ladies. There were a bunch left over at the end, so I now have three (tiffany blue, pink and burgundy) and the generous bride gave us a bottle of champagne when we left for the night.
So that was Saturday, and Sunday was all ours. We drove into Chicago proper and stayed at our usual downtown hotel. We walked around for many hours, lounged under a shady tree in Millennium Park, and ate deep dish pizza at Pizzeria Due (owned by Pizzeria Uno, but cuter). That evening we went to a niiiiice dinner at a restaurant next door to our hotel, the Capital Grille.
On Monday we conducted a bit of business, and we were back on the road to Nashville. I spent 85% of the trip coughing and sneezing, and somehow managed to get another cold, EVEN THOUGH I HAD ONE JUST A MONTH AGO. So effing unfair.
And here I am, high on Dayquil, warm with a pashmina on my shoulders, working for da man.
I left the champagne at home. Damn.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Drama....I has it
Labor Day weekend...a weekend of rest, grilled meats and beer.
Yeahhhh not so much for me.
So on Friday, the husband went in the attic, because we were going to run cable for our HDTV antenna, and he discovered a natural gas leak.
The kind that could make your house blow up y'all.
Granted, it was not a big leak, but it was a leak, and the NES guy that arrived shortly after the discovery said it had probably been there since we built our house 5 years ago. The stoopid HVAC folks had cross-threaded a pipe, and that was the source of the leak. So, the HVAC people were at our house bright and early on Saturday morning, and $89 dollars later the leak was fixed.
Then, we decided it would be a good time to comb my 16 year old cat, Inky. She's not much into grooming these days, and really needed attention, so I combed enough fur off of her to make a new cat. As I was combing her tail (which is the DANGER zone), she bit me. Hard. On my arm. I immediately washed it, poured hyrdrogen peroxide on it, and applied antibiotic cream, but it still managed to get infected. So after church on Sunday I went to a walk-in clinic, got a tetanus shot (FUN!!!) and a prescription for antibiotics.
They didn't even give me a cool bandaid. So effing unfair y'all. If you are going to be a purveyor of pain or take my blood, I need a cool bandaid.
So that's my drama. I am currently at work for a half day (insert explative here) and have a cookout to go to this afternoon. I plan on hosing myself in insect repellent, because with my luck the bugs will find me delicious, and I will wind up looking like I have the pox.
Happy Labor Day y'all!
Yeahhhh not so much for me.
So on Friday, the husband went in the attic, because we were going to run cable for our HDTV antenna, and he discovered a natural gas leak.
The kind that could make your house blow up y'all.
Granted, it was not a big leak, but it was a leak, and the NES guy that arrived shortly after the discovery said it had probably been there since we built our house 5 years ago. The stoopid HVAC folks had cross-threaded a pipe, and that was the source of the leak. So, the HVAC people were at our house bright and early on Saturday morning, and $89 dollars later the leak was fixed.
Then, we decided it would be a good time to comb my 16 year old cat, Inky. She's not much into grooming these days, and really needed attention, so I combed enough fur off of her to make a new cat. As I was combing her tail (which is the DANGER zone), she bit me. Hard. On my arm. I immediately washed it, poured hyrdrogen peroxide on it, and applied antibiotic cream, but it still managed to get infected. So after church on Sunday I went to a walk-in clinic, got a tetanus shot (FUN!!!) and a prescription for antibiotics.
They didn't even give me a cool bandaid. So effing unfair y'all. If you are going to be a purveyor of pain or take my blood, I need a cool bandaid.
So that's my drama. I am currently at work for a half day (insert explative here) and have a cookout to go to this afternoon. I plan on hosing myself in insect repellent, because with my luck the bugs will find me delicious, and I will wind up looking like I have the pox.
Happy Labor Day y'all!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Who is this person
For serious I am morphing into a person I do not know. I have turned into a militant plastic bag hater. I blame my work environment. Y'all the upper management has done away with plastic trash bags at desks.
My friends, that is hard core plastic hate.
I always do my best to recycle plastic bags when I go grocery shopping, or I use them in the bathroom for trash, but recent freezer stockpiling trips have made me hate the pile of bags in my kitchen cabinet that spill out like a dirty, environment hating secret every time it is opened.
And then the cats think oh joy.....let me roll around on these until I am a static furball and get tangled up in them.
And then I hose myself in bactine from all the unintentional cat scratches from the untangling drama.
So I have ordered Chico bags. They are pretty cool. The bags come in all sorts of colors (or an "Earth" graphic if you so choose). I chose Earth.
As you can see, they come in nifty little carrying bags that have a clip so you can tether them to whatever. I am pumped to receive my purchase.
I promise that I will not go over the edge with my green-ness. If I suddenly start buying boxed wine because I fear that I am wasting too much glass, please commit me, but remember to pack my tiara.
My friends, that is hard core plastic hate.
I always do my best to recycle plastic bags when I go grocery shopping, or I use them in the bathroom for trash, but recent freezer stockpiling trips have made me hate the pile of bags in my kitchen cabinet that spill out like a dirty, environment hating secret every time it is opened.
And then the cats think oh joy.....let me roll around on these until I am a static furball and get tangled up in them.
And then I hose myself in bactine from all the unintentional cat scratches from the untangling drama.
So I have ordered Chico bags. They are pretty cool. The bags come in all sorts of colors (or an "Earth" graphic if you so choose). I chose Earth.
As you can see, they come in nifty little carrying bags that have a clip so you can tether them to whatever. I am pumped to receive my purchase.
I promise that I will not go over the edge with my green-ness. If I suddenly start buying boxed wine because I fear that I am wasting too much glass, please commit me, but remember to pack my tiara.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
I know....I know.....
Bad....bad blogger am I. I have neglected Not That Cool, which is so, um, not cool of me to do?
So let me bring my whole 2 readers up to speed. My birthday was last Friday, and it was super awesome. Before the actual day, I began to receive cards.....cards with birthday money in them....also known as the BestFrigginKindOfBirthdayCardOneCanReceive. If you are one of those people that think otherwise, get the honk off my blog.
So with the influx of money, I began to treat myself to.....things. I have an uneasy relationship with things, as in I don't really like to buy things, because I feel like I am just accumulating things, and sometimes I am so anti-thing that I go without things that I should really have.
It's a self care thing that I'm kinda not good at.
So here I am, with a wad of dough, trying my level best to spend it. I bought myself a pretty new shirt (that is a whole size smaller than I used to wear RAWWKKK), and Hob Nobs from the World Market (chocolate covered British oatmeal cookies. They are the essence of rad).
I bought a book, Austenland, by Shannon Hale which is turning out to be pretty great. If you understand the hottness that is Mr. Darcy sopping wet after a dip in the estate pond, you really should read this book yo.
I got other stuff and things that I wanted/needed too. But here's the big thing.
I got a haircut y'all. I have been trying forever to get my hair nice and long so that I can donate it to Locks of Love, but along the way I sacrificed any semblance of personal style. So I got 1 inch trimmed off the bottom, a lot of bulk removed, and bangs y'all. I got bangs.
I am super happy with it, and I don't even mind being high maintenance and applying a flat iron to re-create this look.
I might change my Not That Cool picture to this since it is so outdated, or perhaps I should don my tiara for that? It might be warranted. Tiaras are not just for vacuuming and chore time you know.
My husband was also extremely wonderful. On my birthday, he showed up at work with a dozen roses. Then that night we went to Maggiano's. My birthday celebration did not stop on Friday. Early on Saturday we drove to Chattanooga (my husband had a job to shoot there). When we were done with the shoot, we visited the Aquarium (I digged the otters, they were merry) and then had a lovely meal at a steakhouse. I ordered ahi tuna. I blame this on the fact that I had been staring at fish all day, wondering why they were not swimming in a delicate wine and butter sauce.
Sunday we drove home, and we had a great urge to get our shit together (this doesn't happen often, so we acted on it). We bought blackout curtains for the bedroom (extremely needed since the sun blasts into our bedroom in the morning. After they were hung I found every receipt, invoice and bill and filed them away. The house looked awesome, and that was a present too.
Okay so the blog is now up to speed. I will try to post more, but yeah I've said that before.
So let me bring my whole 2 readers up to speed. My birthday was last Friday, and it was super awesome. Before the actual day, I began to receive cards.....cards with birthday money in them....also known as the BestFrigginKindOfBirthdayCardOneCanReceive. If you are one of those people that think otherwise, get the honk off my blog.
So with the influx of money, I began to treat myself to.....things. I have an uneasy relationship with things, as in I don't really like to buy things, because I feel like I am just accumulating things, and sometimes I am so anti-thing that I go without things that I should really have.
It's a self care thing that I'm kinda not good at.
So here I am, with a wad of dough, trying my level best to spend it. I bought myself a pretty new shirt (that is a whole size smaller than I used to wear RAWWKKK), and Hob Nobs from the World Market (chocolate covered British oatmeal cookies. They are the essence of rad).
I bought a book, Austenland, by Shannon Hale which is turning out to be pretty great. If you understand the hottness that is Mr. Darcy sopping wet after a dip in the estate pond, you really should read this book yo.
I got other stuff and things that I wanted/needed too. But here's the big thing.
I got a haircut y'all. I have been trying forever to get my hair nice and long so that I can donate it to Locks of Love, but along the way I sacrificed any semblance of personal style. So I got 1 inch trimmed off the bottom, a lot of bulk removed, and bangs y'all. I got bangs.I am super happy with it, and I don't even mind being high maintenance and applying a flat iron to re-create this look.
I might change my Not That Cool picture to this since it is so outdated, or perhaps I should don my tiara for that? It might be warranted. Tiaras are not just for vacuuming and chore time you know.
My husband was also extremely wonderful. On my birthday, he showed up at work with a dozen roses. Then that night we went to Maggiano's. My birthday celebration did not stop on Friday. Early on Saturday we drove to Chattanooga (my husband had a job to shoot there). When we were done with the shoot, we visited the Aquarium (I digged the otters, they were merry) and then had a lovely meal at a steakhouse. I ordered ahi tuna. I blame this on the fact that I had been staring at fish all day, wondering why they were not swimming in a delicate wine and butter sauce.
Sunday we drove home, and we had a great urge to get our shit together (this doesn't happen often, so we acted on it). We bought blackout curtains for the bedroom (extremely needed since the sun blasts into our bedroom in the morning. After they were hung I found every receipt, invoice and bill and filed them away. The house looked awesome, and that was a present too.
Okay so the blog is now up to speed. I will try to post more, but yeah I've said that before.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Brang it on Mother Nature
I was walking to work this morning, and had almost reached my destination, when it happened.
A bird shat on me.
Birds are merry, and therefore I harbor no ill-will towards them. I make a point of not running over them when they are in the path of my car. I thought I was simpatico with the birds.
Then this one effing bird shat on me.
What oh what did I ever do to you Mother Nature, that you would send a minion to do your evil bidding? I've always been nice to the birds. Remember that one baby bird, which we named Spunky, that we rescued from the neighborhood cat? Pretty sure that we saved its life. Is your attention span really that short?
Fine you bitch goddess. You want to start something, brang it Mama. You have no idea who you are messing with. Oh, just in case you'd like another shot at me, I don't have an umbrella today, and they are talking about thundershowers for this evening.
A bird shat on me.
Birds are merry, and therefore I harbor no ill-will towards them. I make a point of not running over them when they are in the path of my car. I thought I was simpatico with the birds.
Then this one effing bird shat on me.
What oh what did I ever do to you Mother Nature, that you would send a minion to do your evil bidding? I've always been nice to the birds. Remember that one baby bird, which we named Spunky, that we rescued from the neighborhood cat? Pretty sure that we saved its life. Is your attention span really that short?
Fine you bitch goddess. You want to start something, brang it Mama. You have no idea who you are messing with. Oh, just in case you'd like another shot at me, I don't have an umbrella today, and they are talking about thundershowers for this evening.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Serve and Protect
Dear Motorist on My Ass this Evening on Trousdale Drive,
Yes, I was going the posted speed of 35 miles per hour. I was riding my brake down that hill so that I stayed at 35 miles per hour. You were on my ass SUV driver, probably pissed because your KFC bucket o'chicken was rapidly cooling and congealing.
You were on my ass down the hill, you were on my ass around the bend.
And then there he was, the policeman with the radar gun that gave me a speeding ticket yesterday. I don't know if you noticed him, because you were probably glaring at me and saying words that could peel the paint off your Nissan Murano, but because of me you were going 35 miles per hour, and therefore do not have to pay Metro Government the $107 I will have to pony up in 45 days or less.
After the radar trap, you again were on my ass. I don't know if you even noticed, but you're welcome, and I hope your extra crispy recipe is rad.
Yes, I was going the posted speed of 35 miles per hour. I was riding my brake down that hill so that I stayed at 35 miles per hour. You were on my ass SUV driver, probably pissed because your KFC bucket o'chicken was rapidly cooling and congealing.
You were on my ass down the hill, you were on my ass around the bend.
And then there he was, the policeman with the radar gun that gave me a speeding ticket yesterday. I don't know if you noticed him, because you were probably glaring at me and saying words that could peel the paint off your Nissan Murano, but because of me you were going 35 miles per hour, and therefore do not have to pay Metro Government the $107 I will have to pony up in 45 days or less.
After the radar trap, you again were on my ass. I don't know if you even noticed, but you're welcome, and I hope your extra crispy recipe is rad.
Weekend Wanderlust
Y'all I got the vacation jimmy-legs......bad. I need to get away. It has been forever, and my current job makes it impossible to be gone for any great length of time. I really need to do this for the good of the people around me. A well-rested, realxed Not That Cool would be less inclined to stab people with her letter opener.
I'm thinking a road trip would be best. My husband has a hott convertible that I happen to look awesome in, and it's just so much more interesting too see the random things that the road brings then to be trapped on an airplane with your beverage and salted snack.
So here's an option not too far from Nashville.
Natchez Trace to Tuscumbia, Alabama and Tupelo, Mississippi. The Natchez is so pretty and non-commercial, and you can see deer, wild turkeys and extremely strange people. On my last drive on it, we pulled of at one of the observation areas, and I saw a old guy that looked like he had a boy scout uniform on, eating a snack by his car festooned with confederate loving stickers.
Um yeah we drove on.
Okay getting back to Tuscumbia....why that particular town you ask? Because it sounds so wonderfully small southern town, and I love that. I love going to places where it feels like you are a walking anachronism in a place very much older than you. Also, Helen Keller's home is there, and open to tours.
But I haven't told you the best part. They have a coon dog cemetery in Tuscumbia.
AWWWWWEEEEESOOOOMMME. I want to bring a picnic lunch, complete with pink boxed wine with plastic cups, and give a toast to Bean Blossom Bomma, who according to the headstone was "a joy to hunt with."
Then we could go on to Tupleo, Mississippi, tell locals that we think Elvis' music sucked ass, and then find out just how fast the hott car can actually go whilst trying to avoid the buckshot.
So yeah, that's the plan.
I'm thinking a road trip would be best. My husband has a hott convertible that I happen to look awesome in, and it's just so much more interesting too see the random things that the road brings then to be trapped on an airplane with your beverage and salted snack.
So here's an option not too far from Nashville.
Natchez Trace to Tuscumbia, Alabama and Tupelo, Mississippi. The Natchez is so pretty and non-commercial, and you can see deer, wild turkeys and extremely strange people. On my last drive on it, we pulled of at one of the observation areas, and I saw a old guy that looked like he had a boy scout uniform on, eating a snack by his car festooned with confederate loving stickers.
Um yeah we drove on.
Okay getting back to Tuscumbia....why that particular town you ask? Because it sounds so wonderfully small southern town, and I love that. I love going to places where it feels like you are a walking anachronism in a place very much older than you. Also, Helen Keller's home is there, and open to tours.
But I haven't told you the best part. They have a coon dog cemetery in Tuscumbia.
AWWWWWEEEEESOOOOMMME. I want to bring a picnic lunch, complete with pink boxed wine with plastic cups, and give a toast to Bean Blossom Bomma, who according to the headstone was "a joy to hunt with."
Then we could go on to Tupleo, Mississippi, tell locals that we think Elvis' music sucked ass, and then find out just how fast the hott car can actually go whilst trying to avoid the buckshot.
So yeah, that's the plan.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Fountain
I have a 15 minute walk every day to and from my car to work. On my journey, I pass in front of the Metro Courthouse, and admire this fountain. Since it is Summer, and I walk mostly in full sun, I am friggin hot by this point in my walk. I can feel the coolness of the water even though I do not get very close, and I can smell the chlorine.And then I am at my destination, working for da man.
On the trip back to my car, if it is a fine day, I usually see kids cris-crossing though the jets, swimming trunks so sopped full of water that they are drooping.
Y'all they look so merry.
One of these beastly hot days, I am going to drop my lunch bag and purse, and just walk into that water and get absolutely soaked. I am going to drop the shackles of adulthood, and be a merry kid. It is going to be awesome.
Until I realize I will now have to walk the rest of the way in clingy wet clothes. Ick.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Lovely
So I just got back from the library.
I saw a nun, and she was just lovely. Not the magazine-airbrushed fictional type of lovely, but the lovely that you get from joy and contentment. She radiated those qualities in her countenance.
I wish I was that kind of lovely. Now this is not a pity party, but shit y'all, just shit.
I do lots of creative stuff, but I have never considered myself excellent at any one pursuit. She looked like she was excellent in her love of Christ, and that is wonderful.
So then I perused the new fiction titles, and was absolutely bored. Themed murder mysteries involving florists, cat lovers, bakers, etc. Highly colored covers with cutesy fonts and cartoons of faboo skinny ladies involved in random antics......new fiction indeed. Seems that everyone that has access to a computer believes they can write a book.
I guess I should lump myself into that category. I would really like to be good at the book writing thing, and I do believe my story is original. Shit I just want to be lovely.
I saw a nun, and she was just lovely. Not the magazine-airbrushed fictional type of lovely, but the lovely that you get from joy and contentment. She radiated those qualities in her countenance.
I wish I was that kind of lovely. Now this is not a pity party, but shit y'all, just shit.
I do lots of creative stuff, but I have never considered myself excellent at any one pursuit. She looked like she was excellent in her love of Christ, and that is wonderful.
So then I perused the new fiction titles, and was absolutely bored. Themed murder mysteries involving florists, cat lovers, bakers, etc. Highly colored covers with cutesy fonts and cartoons of faboo skinny ladies involved in random antics......new fiction indeed. Seems that everyone that has access to a computer believes they can write a book.
I guess I should lump myself into that category. I would really like to be good at the book writing thing, and I do believe my story is original. Shit I just want to be lovely.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Yeah I'll drink your wine
So last night I went to a staff party at the bossman's home. It was fun, the food was great, the wine flowed and it was awesome to kick back with the cool folks at work.
Okay so I had lots of wine. Everyone did. We were merry. Most of the festivities took place in the backyard. Where the bugs are - the ones that find me delicious.
I didn't really look at my ankle until I got to work. Y'all it is jacked. It is red and swollen, and of course my benadryl cream is at home. I'm too cheap to buy more, so I guess if my leg just blows up from the pressure it's my own fault.
The cream should do the trick, but if not I happen to have a doctor's appointment on Thursday for some blood work. Perhaps the doctor has something more awesome if my leg is still swollen, like marijuana cream?
Okay so I had lots of wine. Everyone did. We were merry. Most of the festivities took place in the backyard. Where the bugs are - the ones that find me delicious.
I didn't really look at my ankle until I got to work. Y'all it is jacked. It is red and swollen, and of course my benadryl cream is at home. I'm too cheap to buy more, so I guess if my leg just blows up from the pressure it's my own fault.
The cream should do the trick, but if not I happen to have a doctor's appointment on Thursday for some blood work. Perhaps the doctor has something more awesome if my leg is still swollen, like marijuana cream?
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I rode the bus
This morning I rode the bus to work. I usually park for free at the coliseum parking lot, but they have some event today, Thursday and Friday, so that parking is not available. Yes, parking at the coliseum is a hike, but I dig the exercise, and have lost 27 pounds so far (yay!).
So, since I did not want to pay da man $5 - $10 dollars to park for three days, I forked over my $1.35 to the bus driver, and hopped on.
I must say it was not bad. I read my magazine instead of wanting to curse out some asshat that cut me off on I-65, and the bus stop was a short block away from my work. There were no sketchy people on the bus, so that was a bonus. Perhaps sketchy people don't take the bus at 7:45 in the morning? I don't know, but I guess I'll find out if they are late risers on my commute home.
So, since I did not want to pay da man $5 - $10 dollars to park for three days, I forked over my $1.35 to the bus driver, and hopped on.
I must say it was not bad. I read my magazine instead of wanting to curse out some asshat that cut me off on I-65, and the bus stop was a short block away from my work. There were no sketchy people on the bus, so that was a bonus. Perhaps sketchy people don't take the bus at 7:45 in the morning? I don't know, but I guess I'll find out if they are late risers on my commute home.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Oh hi hello
So this is the first post for Not That Cool. This is the way I roll:
I refuse to conform to what is "cool", fashionable, or momentarily awesome in the minds of lemmings. I will be true to me and all the nerdy things I love. And, if you look inside yourself and are truthful, you may love them too.
I consider myself a jack of all trades, master of nothing. I would like to be fabulous at something, but I'm not sure what that is right now.
I work for the man, I would rather be independently wealthy or win the effing powerball, but that hasn't happened yet, so for the man I continue to work.
I have done some wonderful things in my life, and been to fantastic places. They undoubtedly will appear on this blog at some point.
So this will be me, warts and all. Hope you enjoy the ride.
I refuse to conform to what is "cool", fashionable, or momentarily awesome in the minds of lemmings. I will be true to me and all the nerdy things I love. And, if you look inside yourself and are truthful, you may love them too.
I consider myself a jack of all trades, master of nothing. I would like to be fabulous at something, but I'm not sure what that is right now.
I work for the man, I would rather be independently wealthy or win the effing powerball, but that hasn't happened yet, so for the man I continue to work.
I have done some wonderful things in my life, and been to fantastic places. They undoubtedly will appear on this blog at some point.
So this will be me, warts and all. Hope you enjoy the ride.
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