Wednesday Turnstyle

I've been working a few weeks already. Working in a consignment store is just as fun as I remember from back when I owned a consignment store. The women are so awesome! And the young uns (love me some young uns). And the men that shop the store. Love the men. Love all the peeps. Peeps is fun!

I've already bought a handbag. It's from Italy people! How can I say no to Italy?

Latest Obsessions

Mahjong

want to learn. want to start a group. want to buy.

Winnebago

still and always

Handbags

still and always

Shoes for Retail

cuter than you might think

Chair for Living Room

maybe. still thinking. i'll know when i see it.

Too Legit To Quit

Too Legit To Quit

This is what I get when I wander around Tumblr. 

Yesterday, 9.11.11, was my daughter Bella's birthday.

We had a family BBQ. Pup and The Big B sat in the living room and watched hours of football while Bella, Lorenzo, Lorenzo's boyfriend BT, and I commandeered The Big Room (which is so lovely I want to sleep with it - pictures someday I hope) and watched some crazy movie on the Netflix stream.

The two youngest young uns were a tad hungover we discovered while Bella and I planned our next outing, shoe shopping for her birthday present and another closet makeover and styling session for Bella.

Another fun family dinner with our family. And yes, it was on 9.11.

10 years ago on 9.11.01 it was my daughter's 19th birthday.

I had taken the day off from my downtown corporate job to stay home and make Bella's favorite meal, my homemade spaghetti with red sauce and meatballs. It takes all day to make the "gravy" and I wanted us to be able to eat at a normal time rather than the 6:30 or 7 when I would normally make it home from my long 2+ hour commute (still cannot believe that I used to drive around 4 hours a day back then).

I was upstairs making beds and getting dressed for the day. Lorenzo was in the living room downstairs waiting for ride to school while watching GMA.

"Mom! I'm leaving! You better turn on the television. Something is happening."

I went downstairs and turned on the television. Of course, nothing's been the same since.

I don't remember too many details on how I felt that day. Numb, dumbfounded, incredulous. Our family had no direct connection to New York except a love of the city we had visited a time or two. Watching everything unfold I did feel like I had a connection. How could I not? This was way beyond that. This was everything we ever held dear to our hearts.

Our freedoms, our unshakable belief that we live in the best country in the world, our core values.

I do remember spending the entire day in suspended disbelief. Maybe not truly drinking in what this would mean from that moment on.

And I was angry. So angry. As the day spun away and we all waited for word, I wanted everything to be fixed. Fixed. I had no idea how broken everything was.

So, yesterday, we did celebrate our Bella's 29th birthday. We laughed and cried at a dumb movie. We endured Pup's constant haggling (annoying, lovely man), we ate burgers, pasta salad, awesome little wonton thingys Lorenzo made.

Pup hung a new flag on the front of the Chez Emerson.

In the back of my mind I thought of how it's been in the past 10 years.

The Deep End

Source: My Favorite Book - The Internet

My house is a mess. For real and for certain.

I'm behind on laundry. I'm behind on dishes. I'm behind on niggling little projects all over Chez Emerson.

I have too many junk drawers. I have a utility room where you wouldn't be able to find a utility if your ass was on fire. BTW - what the hell is a utility? Why does it need its own room?

These are the things that inhabit the space between my ears. Not useful things like, "Here is my plan for the day. Let's see how many check marks I can make against this list."

Nope.

I think about whys and why nots. I think about human nature and why women can be so mean to each other. I think about the love in families. And how, sometimes, it is goes badly. I think about how I know I would die for either one of my girls. I don't say that lightly. That love is so definite. No quibbling. It is a cement wall.

I think about how lucky I've been in my life. How I have had good people around me for much of it. How I have been able to jump in many many deep ends of pools with various degrees of success. The success isn't always the yardstick I measure with. The jumping is the thing. The jumping really is the thing.

Even now, at my geezerly age (AARP is stalking me peeps! WTH!) I am starting, yet again, a new thing. In the core of me I hate learning new things. At the core of me I love learning new things. CRAZY! lol

Trust me, working retail (a consignment store - working in it, not owning it) isn't rocket science. But already, I am liking the familiarity of it. I have just that kind of disorderly mind that loves making things orderly. It's a sickness really.

Although I could be cleaning my house.

How Many Pups Can I Have?

I call my darling husband "Pup" on this blog.

When I started the blog I wanted a name for him and "Pupcake" popped into my head. It seemed to fit him perfectly! And, of course, I thought I was brilliant for thinking of it.

I didn't think of it! My dear friend, Teri, called her darling husband Pupcake and while I had not forgotten about them, I had certainly forgotten that she had penned that original nickname. I'm telling you! I bet over HALF of what I say and think has been plagiarized! I'm a word-thief!

I know; we all are to some extent. We take things we've heard, read, seen, and shake some of our personal sea salt on them and put it on the table. "Nummy Deborah! You are the best!" Deep inside I'm a thief.

Creative thinking my hooches!

In a not too distant past life I'm a graphic designer. Ideas never came over easily to me. If I had to come up with something right out of my ass I'd have to hunker down with stuff I had collected (inspiration folder I always called it - I'm so clever!) and shut my office door and start brainstorming - and alone when I was working my corporate job.

A few hours later, hopefully, I'd have a few ideas to present to my manager and we'd cull it down to the one that would work. Then I'd get designing. It was always painful. The thinking of it, not the execution of it.

On other fronts in my life I have no problem with inspiration. Decorating is painless. Clothes styling is instant. Vignetting is a see-in-my-head process. Even writing is like pooping. It just happens.

But graphic design; painful.

I was waaaaay better at the building of the project. I ROCK at that part. I was way better at the collaborative projects than the alone-with-my-thoughts projects. I had a job where we were a huge team of art directors, writers, project managers, photographers, and production artists. Awesome process. When I worked alone; hard to jump start.

Back to Pupcake. He is now, happily I might add, Pup to me on this blog. And how many Pups do I need to make a blog?

Hot Men Friday

Oliver Reed and Alan Bates.

A week or so ago I stumbled on the movie Women in Love. Somehow I had never seen this movie. And somehow I had forgotten all about Oliver Reed. And Alan Bates. Does anyone remember seeing An Unmarried Woman? I totally went swoony over Alan Bates. In fact, my wasband (first husband) looked very much like Alan Bates.

But back to Women in Love. I haven't read the book but I will have to now. While watching the movie, at times I would totally forget it was filmed in 1969. Then moments later it would be glaringly obvious it was filmed in 1969. There was so much crazy flavor going into films at that time.

Worth a watch. I tossed it from my TiVo and now I'm wishing I hadn't. The two men are so beautiful and there is an attraction between them that is partly physical, but mostly spiritual/intellectual. Soul mates. There is a scene where the two male leads wrestle while naked and you can feel the attraction between them. Not surprising I guess since Bates was bi-sexual. I don't know about Reed.

Two beautiful men. So dark and broody. Both with hair you just want to fondle. And great lips.

Fortune Cookies

What's on My Blackberry?

Querulous

I looked up the spelling of this word yesterday for a completely different reason, and then came to the realization that this is exactly how I spent the summer.

Granted, I have spent the past five-plus months at The Tumbler in a smallish, unventilated room that is not air conditioned; sharing it with a large, heat-producing, fume-spewing, cranky-ass printer along with an overheated iMac.

Yes, I would sweat all day and usually around 3:00 in the afternoon was so exhausted that by the time I went home I was querulous. I wasn't pretty.

Plenty of people have worked in places that are not air conditioned. I'm certain plenty of people have had it MUCH worse. But, this described issue, along with many many more I won't go into (I wrote a hilarious, yet mean, job description for them to put in their next ad. I only shared it with one of the other designers.) made me think, "Hey! Life is fucking short. This isn't working for me."

Querulous. I didn't even know that's what I was.

One night I walked into the house and Pup bounded out from the office - so excited to have me home from the day's work.

"What's for supper dahline"?

I put my bags down and wanted to cry.

Instead I turned on him and screeched, "You eat four things! Pick one"!

Of course it's true that Pup only eats four things. No reason to be a beast. No reason to let my querulous ways explode on him.

I'm out just a few days from The Tumbler and the fresh air is so sweet! I'm happier than a clam. I have no idea what the hell that means, but I am.

I even made Pup one of the four things he eats for supper last night. Smooches my Pup. He was never querulous while I was going through all of this. He was simply supportive and when I decided I had had enough and had taken a different, not-so-fiscally-beneficial job, he didn't even blink. He just supported.

Love that man of mine. It's true, he only eats four things and that pisses me off from time to time, but he's my soft place to land and what could be more important than that?

400th Post

This seems momentous! It's been great fun and great expression.

Not so much during the past few months. A variety of reasons have contributed, but the biggest one just may be impetus for the change I am about to make.

I haven't talked about it much, but I got a job back in March. I was sooooooo excited!

Not too many stories from The Tumbler because . . . well . . . because I kept experiencing the not so good and hoping for the best. I think the metaphor goes something like that. Maybe not.

That's the other problem with this problem. How something, somewhere was withdrawing my magic charms. Yes! Those! Heh . . .

I tend to be a stick-with-it person. I don't jump imprudently. I try hard to not be overly impulsive. Think things through. Maybe even a bit stubborn.

The slow, painful realization began pounding into me a change needed to happen. It really hit me on the head when I found myself one Saturday evening designing this t-shirt for myself.

This can't be good I thought.

So change is coming for me. I'm glad about this. It will be a bit of a challenge, but isn't that quintessential? Yep.

Rick Astley

I was just "rickrolled" into watching this so now I'm going to make y'all suffer along with me.

I dare you to not be humming this little tune for the rest of the day. Ha!



I, of course, used to LOVE this song and would dance around my tiny kitchen with my baby, singing it to her little arse.

What's amazing about this video is how current the dancing is! I mean, I dance like that! How did they know?

:)

Amy Winehouse

It takes me, half an hour to write a verse
He makes me imagine it from bad to worse
My weakness for the other sex
Every time his shoulders flex
The way the shirt hangs off his back
My train of thought spins right off track

Amy Amy Amy
Although I've been here before
Amy Amy Amy
He's just to hard to ignore
Masculine he spins a spell
I think he'd wear me very well
Amy Amy Amy
Where's my morel parallel

I've loved her. I've cried for her. I've known people in trouble like her. Don't judge her. Maybe you know what it's like to struggle, maybe you don't. Leave her be. Let her rest now.

If you're a fan, listen to Frank front to back - back to front.

Joy

stolen from this adorable web site

Declarations:

1. Do at least one post with no pet photos. Try.
2. Go outside even though you are bitching non-stop about the 118 degree heat index. Do it.
3. Cook more, don't lie, you remember how. Don't worry that someone in the house won't eat it. He'll find something.
4. Take your vitamins. Do it. Don't you ever want to feel better? Hmm?
5. Simplify. More complicated does not equal better evolved.
6. Yes, it's true, there are things that rule that aren't always controllable. Deal and roll. ROLL BABY!
7. Be happy. You can do it.
8. Get it back. It hasn't been gone that long, you'll find it out there somewhere (I'm talking about my joy).

Those of you that are still reading over here; I appreciate you so much. It's easy to hang out with someone that's fun and frolicky, but depth of character stands out when you support that same person that is stumbling and needing a hand.

Let's applaud with your hand and my hand. I don't want to be smaltzy, but all ya all rock my mind.

smooches

Sunday in the Jungle

Yep. It's true.

It's 98 degrees today. Heat index 116. Dew point at 81. This is the WEIRDEST summer. I'm BUMMED a bit because when you go outside you are heat-blasted. I have been in the house all day today!

And the thought of working tomorrow in the non-air conditioned Cave makes me cry. I think I'll hang out in the office and only go cave-dwelling when absolutely necessary. SIGH

Cutest two cats in the world. I think Deekers (on right) looks just like Stan Laurel. It's a weird comparison, but I'm weird.

Best dinner in the world. I thought I died and went to Grok heaven.

Cutest dog in the world wants a bite. I shared. You know I'm nice. Sometimes.

Georgie can melt even the coldest of hearts. He's had a rough weekend since he had to stay indoors as well. That just about kills him. And there were storms Friday night and Saturday night. He's very afraid of storms.

Give him a little hug my hooches, but don't feel too sorry for him, he had lots of wonderful beef fat for dessert.

Smooches.

Hey Hey We're the Monkees!

Photo courtesy of my very own Bella. She attended an event called, I believe, Convergence. What that exactly is, I don't know. Even when she explains it to me I don't know.

But check out this example of the cool cats, or mitigating monkeys as it were, that attended. Many many peeps attend in costume. Do you wonder if their butts have big red smiles as well?

Bella wore a costume as well. I'm hoping she will share a photo with me.

Thrifting a Go-Go

It was actually last week, but check out how amazing this find looks after some elbow polishing and love love love.

These two little adorables are heavy my brotha. HEAVY! I-could-use-them-as-personal-weapons-of-singular-destruction heavy. Love them!

What's heavy in your universe? Summer chugging along delightfully? I knew it!

smooches all you gorgeous hooches

Make Yourself at Home

Quotes

Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?
~Ian Wallace

Being naked approaches being revolutionary; going barefoot is mere populism.
~John Updike

Everyone seems normal until we get to know them.
~Anonymous

The one on the right is my daughter's cat.

She stays with us from time to time while the daughter is out of town. Lorenzo is a 20-something woman with millions of friends and a social calendar that makes me exhausted just thinking about it.

Her cat, therefore, does not live here, but every time she comes she has no problem inserting herself directly into the ebb and flow of daily life here.

Her first objective is to make the other critters in the house (George and Calvin naturally - I am to guess Pup and I as well) know that she is here. She rubs on George's toys, she finds her scratching pad and lays on it, she claims me as her "human," she scampers about making curmudgeonly Calvin play with her.

I kinda love this about her and find that all of us need this personality trait. It makes her utterly charming. Would it work for the rest of us as well?

I Wonder . . .

. . . if having hotpants is how she got that Mercedes. :)

I know, I know, it's my jealousy talking. I seriously work in an area of awesome cars.

But this is just a sin. And to the woman driving the Jag? Take those stuffed animals out of the rear window or I'll slap you silly and steal your car.

Ha!

Quote

I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights.
~Mohammed Ali

I'm afraid these two don't run on the road or dance under the lights.

Well, that's not really true, but I'm seriously jealous of their napping abilities.