TGIF!!!

At long last I get a break from work. Four days, to be exact. I have no plans, other than to stare at my boys and try to memorize the patterns of freckles on their faces, and maybe talk to E about getting ready for you-know-what. Actually, I'm sure that I will spend a lot of time cleaning the house and gardening, because that's what I like to do and it needs to be done. Hopefully some other spontaneous events will occur, and hopefully my camera will be ready... will post pics as soon as they happen.

I bought my lucky shirt today. Well, I'm not sure that I actually bought it. Did I steal it? Maybe? Not exactly? Well, sort of? Hell, I don't know! Scenario... I went to the mall today in between runs to the buildings to deliver "art stuff". Ran into the Gap to buy some t-shirts. Found one very plain t on the clearance rack for $3.99. Took it up to the cashier, rang it up, computer says $0.00! Jack-pot! He let me have it for nothing! So it's now officially my lucky shirt, and I will have to wear it every day to ward off the evil spirits.

Came home today to find the cuuuuuuuutest spiney box puffer in my tank. OMG, he's only an inch or so long. Smallest one I've ever seen. 120 gallon tank, practically all to himself (I haven't really started stocking the tank yet). And I can't wait to start feeding him shrimpies to make him fat and sassy. It seems that my dear local teenage boy fisherman caught this puff with his casting net and brought him back home for my tank. What a great surprise! Thanks, Dominic!

Tater Salad

Okay, aside from this whole wo*k thing that I just babbled about, even though I said I wasn't gonna, I forgot to mention something. Stevie calls me the other day while I'm at wo*k. I don't really have time to talk to him, because I'm so damn busy shopping and stuff. But I decide to give him two minutes of my time...
He says, "So, what are you doing on September 29?" (Hell, I don't know! All I know is that I have to go shopping tomorrow and buy shit.)
"I don't know, Honey. That's too far in advance to know."
"Okay, well, I bought the tickets."
"Tickets for what?!" (I'm thinking John Mayer at this point. You say tickets, I say John Mayer.)
"Tater Salad!"
"OMG, no f'ing way!"
"Yes, f'ing way!"
And I hung up the phone.
Okay, my faaaaaaavorite comedian is coming to town, and before I even knew it, my honey found out about it and bought tickets. I think I love him, and I looooove Tater Salad!!!

I will not talk about work.

Well, I don't have much to report, as I don't like to fill my blog with the mundane details of work. And that's all I've been doing lately - work, work and more work. It's during this time of year that my kids forget what I look like because they see me so rarely.

Actually, my work is not mundane, boring, or anything like that. I do have a job that is fun and that I do enjoy (most of the time), and I work with the best group of people ever.

{Side scenario... two Sundays ago, we all worked until midnight, on a Sunday, driving from building to building, caravan style, hauling some very heavy art "stuff". Boxes and boxes and boxes. No one complained. Everyone chipped in and carried more than they could. And we got it done. Because we had to. Actually, they didn't HAVE to. It was my responsibility. But I needed them. And they came. I owe them a lung or something.}

So the past two weeks of work have been extremely hard, overwhelming, and creeping into my every thought. And considering that I am dealing with a dying mother, a daughter who is about to go off to a very expensive private college, and all the other usual suspects (two boys, a husband and a father-in-law who don't know how to communicate with each other), I don't have much space in my brain for this work thing. And yet, there it is, consuming my every waking moment, and most of my sleeping ones as well... WORK!!!

However, I said I wasn't going to go into the mundane details (like all the schedule changes, calls for supplies, confused students, etc.) Instead, I'm going to give you my shopping list. Yes, I said my shopping list. In the past month, starting with a zero balance, I have managed to max out, actually exceed the spending limit on my corporate credit card. Here's just a sampling of what I have purchased in the past month... 75 flash drives imprinted with logo, 125 plastic dress forms (they look like shiny black bodies), 4 suites of living room furniture, a 16'x16' rug, 100 lbs. of cuttlefish bone, 12 nights of hotel rooms for two interns, 2 200-piece tinkertoy sets, 2 100-piece fiddlestix sets, a 160 gb external harddrive, a whole mess of printmaking paint, hundreds of cd-r's and dvd-r's, paper, magazines, a food processor, do-dads, and I don't know what else. And of course, I have a shopping trip scheduled for tomorrow. I think I'm supposed to buy a microwave. AHHHHH!!!!

MINI friends

P.S. And apparently, there is a great community of MINI owners up there in ATL and Rome. On several occasions, I walked out to the car, only to find that the Red Rocket had been making friends in the parking lot. A MINI rule... there is always great size in numbers.

There's something to be said for conducting research on the internet.

In the past 9 years, we have been making most, if not all, of our life decisions with the help of information collected on the internet. And today, with complete confidence, I can say that this method is doing pretty well for us.

The internet has shown us about what to expect on the island of Terceira where we spent three wonderful years. Then the internet brought us to Savannah and to The Hill, where we have carved out a fine little life for ourselves. The internet introduced me to SCAD, such a great school to work for and to be a part of. And in the past two days I have had the opportunity to visit the school that we have helped Esther choose, based on what we saw on the internet, and I can whole-heartedly say that this is the best place for her. WOW! What a relief to see it first-hand, and to have everything confirmed. What a great school this is, and what an enriching, supportive, and special community she is about to become a part of... and I owe it all to the internet???

I'm your number 1 fan!!!

Really, the title of this post should be "I'm a number 1 geek!" Or, "Why I'm a pitiful middle-aged woman who still thinks she is a teenager!" See, I have a confession to make. It's really quite embarrassing, and my husband teases me endlessly about it. Are you ready for this? Okay, I am a member of the John Mayer fan club. A bona-fide, card-carrying, paying member of the John Mayer fan club. Yes, John Mayer, that same cotton-candy sickenly sweet pop-star that sings directly to teenage girls and makes them swoon, but makes all other members of the population go into fits of disgust? Well, I confess... I LOVE HIM, and I even pay to love him!!! I can hear you now... "Whyyyyyy?! NOOOOOO, not him!" Well, I can't help it. I discovered that if I became a member of his fan club, then I could get awesome tickets to his concerts, AND I could buy those concert tickets before the general public. Reason enough for me. But as a bonus, I also get "breaking news" about his upcoming releases, tours, etc. And that's what has me so excited... he has been recording a new album, and I am impatiently waiting for us "members" to have access, before you people in the "public", to have a listen to the first single from this new album, Continuum. So nanny-nanny-boo-boo!!!

I'm okay, really.

Alright. One day of everyone at work tiptoeing around me is enough. When I arrived today, everyone looked at me as though they had seen a ghost. "How are you? Are you alright? You really don't have to be here today. We'll cover things for you if you need to take some time away." I swear, it's the outpouring of love and concern from everyone that has me so unhinged. I'm not used to this. I can deal with cancer and death. But empathy? That's just too hard.

One last goodbye

My mom has lung and brain cancer. Did I mention that already? Well, after speaking on the phone with my dad on Sunday morning, I packed my bags, loaded up the car, and drove to Virginia. Dad didn't ask me to come up, and certainly wasn't expecting me. But it was something he said... "I'd be surprised if she lasts longer than a day or two." Apparently Mom's condition had drastically changed. She wouldn't get out of bed. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't drink. For two days. And when I arrived there on Sunday night at 11:00 p.m., I went up to her room to see her, to tell her that I love her, and to tell her goodbye. She was lying across the bed, a sheet twisted around her tiny body, and she was almost completely naked. I rubbed her bald head, and she knew who I was. She reached up and gave me a limp-armed hug. So I told her what I had to say, and then let her go back to sleep. Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night. I lay there awake all night, wondering if she would be alive when I returned to the townhouse in the morning. Part of me wished that she would pass away in her sleep. Not because I want her to go, but because she seems so miserable, and I think that would be a good way to die. I think she lost her will to live.

But when I did return in the morning, she had already eaten a cup of cereal with milk and had a cup of coffee. Was she playing possum? I don't know. She continued to eat and drink throughout the day, and even decided later that evening, that she was going to get up and come downstairs. Dad and I rushed up the stairs when we saw her teetering at the top, holding onto the rail. She can't walk on her own, but she had gotten out of bed, put on a tshirt and her tennis shoes, and had gotten herself to the stairs. So we brought her down, and she spent about an hour sitting on the couch and working on the word jumble. When I looked at her scribbles later, I saw that she actually had unscrambled a couple of the words.

This morning when I left, I said my last goodbyes. There wasn't anger or sadness or anything. Tomorrow she won't even remember that I was there. I only told her that I loved her and that I will miss her. And I won't be going back up there to see her again.

therapy in the chair

Oh man, I feel much better today. Maybe I'm just drunk...

No, really. I guess I had a little therapy... got all that crap out of my system (without crying this time, thank God!) and I got an awesome hair cut to go with it. Yes, I spent two glorious hours getting my hair done. And my poor hairdresser got an ear-full. He made the fatal mistake of asking me how I was. A seemingly innocent question, and I don't think he was prepared for the answer. I actually blurted it all out before he ever even started doing my hair. And that left the next hour and forty-five minutes for him to tell his weird jokes. Almost two hours of straight laughing will cure anything.

So, if you live in the Savannah area and you want a great hair cut and a good laugh, call Starglas Salon and ask for Brian. And no, he's not gay, because I know that was your next question.

overwhelmed... again.

Once again, I'm feeling rather overwhelmed with stress. I wish I could say I was feeling overwhelmed with happiness, love, pride in my children, anything like that. But I've got crap coming at me from four different angles, and it's got me in no mood to blog about it. The few times I have tried to open up about it and talk to someone, well, I only end up fighting back tears, so let's just leave all that alone. I've been trying to come up with some other good stuff to talk about, and all I come up with are snippets of random things. So here goes...

I'm into my third week of running. It feels really good. I'm not going far, or long, and I don't know how much it's doing for any kind of weight loss, but it's nice. Did I mention weight loss? I get questions about why in the world I would be concerned with weight loss. "You're already so tiny." Okay, fine. But I'm 5'2", and when I'm fit and in good health, I don't even tip the scales at 100, and I've been this way for years, even after having two kids. Remember people, ELF STOCK. But for the past couple years, I haven't been very physically active, and it has started to take its toll... 20 lbs. worth. And 20 lbs. is an awful lot on me. "NOOOO, I can't believe it! I saw your abs in that picture, and there's no way you are 20 lbs. overweight!" Well, remember people, that was just my stomach, and for those of you who know me in person, you know where any extra weight goes. Yes, it was hiding behind me. Ghetto booty, pa-tonk-tonk, or junk in the trunk... I've got it bad, and I want it to leave! So wish me all the will power to continue getting up early every morning to run. If not, then there may not be enough room left for the rest of my co-workers to get into our office.

Next topic. I recently found an old friend of mine from high school. Steve. We spent some fun times together, but please do not bring up the time again when I broke your mom's couch in the den. Hey, it was an old couch, let it die! So I found Steve on MySpace, and I have gotten to catch a small glimpse into his life, despite the fact that I have not yet spoken to him. (I'm going to call soon, I promise!) Anyway, he's engaged to the cutest girl named Holly, and they're like the cutest rocker couple you ever saw! He's all tatooed up, riding around on his scooter, and I couldn't imagine he'd grow up any other way. And would you believe... he lives in the same state that I do now? Not like I'm going to go visiting or anything, it's just a co-inky-dink.

Well, I was going to post some new pics, but I seem to be having some trouble up-loading anything, so not this time. Darn! And I was going to post a pic of my size 5.5/6 foot for you. But maybe it's better that I didn't. If I didn't know any better, I'd just think you have a foot fetish!

Happy Humpday everyone... the weekend is now within reach!