When in Doubt, Write It Out

One thing you can say about me is . . .

Oh wait . . .

I think the truth of it is either nothing would be said or lots would be said. Never one thing.

I was thinking the other day about how I have a level of awareness around my annoying ways. Yet speak of my annoying ways always. If I'm annoying, and believe this to be true, then the annoyance should be owned and not qualified.

If you made it through that then I'm in love with you and you need to be my new best friend.

The date today is 26.07.14. I find this shocking.

Comic Relief 

I have no job.

Yes, I work for Pup and watch my Spud-Muffin, but I bring in no money on my own. Initially this didn't bother me much. In my two marriages there has been an ebb and flow with finances. Especially in my first marriage. I was a stay-at-home-momma and brought in nothing other than random part-time gigs that I would find to bolster up the monthly receivables. And eventually I had a corporate job where I made more than half of the monthlies. So for a great portion of my first marriage my Wasband made the lion's share of the dough-ray-me and for about six years I made a bit more.

But, either way, it never mattered. Wasband and I didn't butt heads too much in this part of our financial planning. Maybe in other ways, but not in this way.

Marriage #2 has been much different. I lost the corporate job a few months before we got married. I went back to school for a period (disaster) then eventually found a job in my field at what I affectionately called "The Tumbler." Again, disaster. Hilariously so, but wow, disaster. I recently found a tongue-in-cheek job description I had written for my replacement and laughed out loud I'm so damn funny. But it spoke to my level of unhappiness with that horrible job.

I ramble here . . .

Then I worked for a lovely consignment shop in a chi-chi neighborhood for a couple of years. Made NO money, but made friends that I will have forever and had a blast working in one of my favorite fields. Fashion and hunting. Because what is more gratifying than the fashion-hunt? Consignment/thrift isn't for everyone, but I love it so.

Then we bought The Firm and we decided I'd watch Spud and work for my darling husband, Pup.

All well and good.

Except I bring in no money.

It's a weird thing.

I don't think she meant any harm, but once during a conversation with a friend we were bantering about any "work" we might want or need on our person (ahem) and I mentioned a few things I wouldn't have any bad thoughts to having done. I said, "Yeah, I've heard that ________ wouldn't cost me so much and have good results." She said, "You mean it wouldn't cost Pup so much."

I was taken aback.

Pup and I are a family, but my contributions are entirely service-based, not financial. Aaaah!

And it struck me hard . . . I have no money to call my own. Probably for the first time, actually, yes, for the first time in my life.

Gah

I gotta say, writing all of this out is enlightening. This is the reason people, some people anyway, write. You can have all of these thoughts in your fucking head, but until they are written out you don't know what you really think.

Thanks my invisible community!

Ooops! How did that get in there?

Okay, that's better.

Smooches my hooches. I hug and love.

I Win!

My weather bug right now . . .

Yup . . .

Kinda windy too. That's the part I hate the most. Here's the thing I always say though; it will be the brightest sun ever. Crisp (understatement!) and bright!

So take that!

:)

Dance Like Everyone is Watching

Yes?

I cannot stop watching. Makes me want to get a pumpkin face.

The thumb might be the part making me wheeze with laughter. Haha!

Get Your Love On

Apologies!

Courtesy of Too Legit to Quit

Trips and Falls

12.31.12

I'm up in the loft. Packing for our trip to the Dominican Republic. I'm on the phone with my Shelley-Belly.

"Are you guys so excited? Have you ever been there before?" my SB asks.

"We haven't! I'm trying to figure out outfits for seven balmy evenings," I reply.

"Hey Shelley-Belly? I'm feeling a bit weird - I think I just pooped my pants," I say.

And so it begins.


NOROVIRUS

I spend the rest of the afternoon with head shoved into a bucket so the other end can be safe. You get the picture.

I pass out on the sofa in The Big Room. I sleep so hard and long that I don't even hear George while he's begging to go outdoors. Poor Georgie.

Pup comes home.

"Do you think you'll be able to fly tomorrow?"

I shoot him a look. I don't think it was nice.

I can tell he thinks I'm being a puss. But later when I emerge from the bathroom I find him and all three pets staring at me from the steps to the loft.

"It's bad isn't it babe?" he asks.

I start crying.

Later Pup tells me, "I feel weird."

Pretty soon his head is shoved into a bucket.

Life is not good.

We miss our New Year's Day plane.

I fear we will miss the trip.

Pup has it, but not quite as badly as me. Doesn't it figure? Nothing vegetable-like EVER enters his body, yet his immune system is strong like bull. He is strong like bull.

By 1.2.13 he is feeling really good and I'm feeling kinda good. We decide to go on trip. Two days late and with adjustment fees (the bastards), but we go.

Yay!

The travel day for me is bad. Our first full day in the Dominican is Friday. I am in a fog.

Then the fog lifts and we have a great time!

I stole the window seat from Pup just once.

Grounds of our resort. Of course I did not manage to get a shot of the ocean.

But here's some food just so you know it's me behind the phone. 

We played Bingo. Hey, we were drinking, what can I say? And I won.

They are very busy sniffing everything I brought home.

I got to wear all of the boob-baring dresses in my closet. I browned my skin and look Spanish according to one of the staff at our lovely resort. I got halfway through Anna Karenina (this is a feat let me say), I saw my ass on video (holy hannah), lay by the pool, got in the pool, floated in the pool.

I got to hang with my dear dear friend Allie McBeal (the best travel companion ever), shopped a little, ate a lot, drank some, and just breathed the balmy sea air with really bad hair.

Lovely lovely so lovely.

It was worth the bucket.

Obsession

I've had this one for as long as I can remember. It's a bit embarrassing. Proof that I am eternally 12 years-old. Yeah, I knew you would agree!

I have a love.

A love for . . .

Office supplies.

Yep, I can't resist new mechanical pencils, the perfect gel pen, and notebooks.

Notebooks.

I have them tucked everywhere. In my handbag, in the kitchen, on my office desktop (well, duh!), in my bedroom, in my car, in The Big Room, in Pup's car, in the bathroom. Yes, even there. You just don't know when a random thought might appear and let's be clear here - if I don't write it down immediately, it's gone. GONE!

I know I've passed this particular obsession to at least one of my daughters. Along with my love of hair twirling. Hey! It's what mothers are for.

I don't think of my obsession as bad, I think of it as necessary.

I know they have some office supplies hidden in here somewhere.

What's your secret obsession?

Never Bored

Are you that kind of person? The kind that is never bored?

I have to honestly say that I am never bored. I don't know what that says about me, good or bad. It has always seemed to me that if you truly are feeling bored, you are the responsible one for that. How can we expect others to constantly entertain us? Not that I don't get entertained by others, cuz I love being entertained!

I have had the flu for the past couple of days. Maybe more than a couple of days. They have kinda run into each other like they do when you're sick. I was shocked to come-to this morning and realize it is Sunday. What the hell? I lost at least three days somewhere in there.

But this morning, while my head is still stuffed and my brain a little less than, at least I do not feel feverish at all (not that I don't enjoy feeling a bit feverish - ha!) and maybe I can have a Sunday and get to a few things.

How do you cope with being sick? What do you wear?

For me, since I was literally a hot mess (at one point Pup remarked, "your arse is on fire!" - not meant in that oh my god so hot kind of way) and then a shivering mess, I chose to cozy up in the Big Room with a sheet and pillows on my part of the pit-couch, next to the fireplace, wearing my coziest sweatpants and camisole with a hoodie so the hoodie could come off and go on and come off and go on and come off and go on. You get the picture.

Sidebar: I just resisted, at least three times, inserting an emoticon. Some things really never change.

Yesterday morning I had dragged my feverish, hot arse down to the Big Room rather early, I think 5 a.m. or so, all the pets were in there with me hanging out, and it started raining. Then it began to sound like golf balls were bouncing off of the roof of the Big Room. So loud!

I ran to the back door to look out and discovered hail was falling - loudly and thickly.

I placed these two examples to show size. That watch has a very large face.

I haven't seen hail like that in years!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like the start of the weekend to me peeps, but it isn't. I'll still say - get on it!

I'm going to find some mind-finding pharmaceuticals to help me and get on it as well.

Smooch - unless you're afraid of contagion.

Hard to Resist

These two faces.

It's crazy and wonderful that these two get closer and closer. It used to be that George would have nothing to do with the cat. But Calvin is definitely growing on him.

He grew on us so it was bound to happen.

I have no excuse for this post. Pup says I have a classic empty-nest thing going on. I have entirely replaced being a mom for being a pet-mom.

I'm alarmed! I laugh! I'm sooooo very annoying.