Thursday, September 28, 2006
Last night, the fiance crashed. Hard. He was asleep by 10:15, and for some reason, even though I wasn't quite ready for bed, he shut off all the lights, left me with the dog, and managed to at least pull off his pants before climbing into bed and burying himself in pillows and blankets. I think this confused Izzy. She's usually left with the fiance when I crash hard into the bed, with the door closed, leaving them to hang out on the couch watching t.v. until whatever hour they so choose. So when I popped her in her crate and said goodnight, she was having none of it. None of it, I say!! She started scratching at the door to the crate as though she needed to get out NOW because there was a fire in her ass! But there was no fire. Her ass was fine. I told her to quit it, and tried to just ignore her for a few minutes. But she kept it up, and I kept telling her to quit it, and then I finally went to let her out to go pee, because I couldn't imagine what else would cause her to go so fucking ballistic all of a sudden. But as soon as I let her out, she was fine, jumping up on me, making no move for the back yard at all. So I put her back in her crate, popped in my earplugs, and went to fucking sleep. Obnoxious little twit.
See, I was gonna wake up early this morning to get to the gym for a nice, hard workout. I haven't been going so much in the morning lately, and I really needed to get in there today. So I wanted to be in bed no later than 10:30 last night, and her little conniption fits were keeping me from being able to do that. As she was fine, didn't need to pee, had no fire in the ass, and wasn't thirsty or what have you, ignoring her was the only way to go. I washed her bed-things last night, so it was likely that she was irritated with the "newness" of the fresh-smelling towel I put in her crate, and she just needed to get over that, IMO.
So when I woke up this morning and started pulling myself together to go to the gym as planned, and then I heard her starting right back up again with her freakishly manic scratching at the crate door? Oh, I had had it! I decided she needed some air. So we went for a walk...a 2 mile walk, which is twice as long as the longest walk we've taken thus far, and she hasn't been walked since last Wednesday, I think, so I figured it would take the conniption right out of her ass.
I was wrong. But oh well! It was worth a try.
So our dog has started taking puppy speed, is all I can figure. She's being very sly about it, probably getting it from a rogue squirrel out in the walnut tree. (Come to think of it, she has been hanging out under that tree...kind of loitering, if you will...a lot more than usual lately. Hmmm...) Fucking squirrels and their puppy speed...
I can't wait to go home tonight and kick her ass with yet ANOTHER long walk! HA! She probably thinks she has it easy tonight, but oooohhhh no. She's fucked. Here we go now!
This is how I "punish" our dog for weird-ass behavior. Walks. How evil am I?
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Back when I had just graduated from college, and was still in between life and love and hell and happiness, I traveled on a weekly basis from my little haven in LA to Santa Barbara on Wednesday nights to meet up with a best friend and dance the night away to the sounds of the Disco Pimps as they played in this little hole in the wall bar someplace in SB. We were both single, we were both pretty, and we both loved dancin' to the Disco Pimps' awesome grooviness. I'd never been very into disco, really, but the band was so fun and good that I quickly learned all the standard disco tunes, learned the electric slide, and just let my own pimpiness flow all over the damned place. Then, when the bar would close at about 1 or so, I'd hop back in my car and drive my ass back to LA so I could work the next day, or whatever. I can't remember how long this went on for, but I do remember doing it a lot. I met a very cute guy at that bar once, and while I got his number and he got mine, I never heard from him...so I continuously returned to the bar in hopes of running into him again eventually. Never did. And then I stopped going as often, until I stopped driving up there all together with such regularity, as I had become an official grown-up. (And I think that's when I moved to Kansas the first time...I can't remember, honestly. And that's the problem with disco, it seems. Rots your brain. Ooh, but it rots it so good!)
I wish I could have the Disco Pimps as the band at our wedding, dammit. That would be rockin'. Sheeit.
Anyway, this whole conversation and little memory of my dancin' in SB days took me back even further in time, back to when I was growing up in Whittier, California, driving around with mom at the wheel of the station wagon we had dubbed "Le Bus" (literally...it was on the license plate and everything), and seeing stop signs that had the word "DISCO" scrawled crudely in spray paint beneath their main message (i.e. the "STOP" part) all over town. I remember asking my mom what that meant, and as we were a family that didn't really listen to disco so much (we were an Eagles, Supertramp, Dolly Parton lovin' bunch...although I do remember the Bee Gee's being thrown in there now and then...), and she explained that some people were tired of the genre called "disco" and that's why they did that. As though it were some sort of political campaign, I suppose. Like a "Stop Apartheid" sign, or an "Impeach Bush" sign, or something. But these were normal old "STOP" signs that had been turned into a crude statement that certain people wanted to make about their dislike for disco and those people that liked it. (Because disco made people gay and encouraged them to become drug users, I bet they thought. Hell, they might've even thought that disco caused cancer, or what have you.)
Actually, when I think about it, it was probably the early punk-rock crowd that were responsible for the "STOP DISCO" movement...so they probably didn't give a flying shit about the gayness or drugs or the cancer involvement or non-involvement, as it was. They probably just hated polyester and Gloria Gaynor and all things Bee Gee, and had easy access to spray paint and devil-may-care attitudes about being caught damaging public property.
Anybody else remember this sort of shit? Was it a Southern California thing, or was it being done all over the US? The fiance doesn't remember it, but that might be because he was born a whole 4 years after me, so maybe the "STOP" signs were all cleaned up in South Bend by the time he was old enough to notice shit like this. (I was born in '74, at the height of the disco movement, I think...) Let me know how it was in your neighborhood when it came to disco. And if you're too young to relate, go out and buy yourself some "Best of" disco albums, and dance freely in your living room to the grooviness, baby. Good times, good times...
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
As you can see, I put together a little collage of the photos I took of the painting process in the living room. Oddly enough, many of the photos show the walls to be more of a pink hue than they are. The color in the bathroom has always looked more pink than anything else to me, but most visitors see it as brown. This color was from the same color tile as the one in our bathroom, since I like it so much, and I thought it'd be smart to be kinda matchy-matchy with the colors, if possible. This shit brings out the inner-interior decorator in me...
So, yeah, the walls aren't pink. But they do have a pinkish-lavenderish undertone to their coffee-ness. I think the picture in the second row on the right is most representative of what it looks like when it's properly lit and all that good stuff. And I'd call that a mocha, more than anything else. The good people at Behr call it "classic". Whatev.
The weekend started out innocently enough, with me cleaning the living room up and starting to put away knick-knacks and try to figure out where to put everything while I painted the living room. The big stuff had to stay...the couch and the t.v. unit are too large to move out of the room all together. So I just pushed them to the center and covered them with a plastic tarp on Sunday when I painted. (They're kind of staying there while the fiance paints the base-boards and we figure out if we're doing a new configuration on the room as well, so it's been kinda like camping out in our own living room for the past couple of days. Not fun.) As it's been a while since I've painted any rooms (the first and last time I've done it was back when I bought the house almost 3 years ago) I tried to figure out how much paint I would need to paint the 12 X 24 living room and the adjoining hallway. The fiance and I deliberated together on this, and agreed that buying 4 gallons should be able to sufficiently cover the room with 2 coats.
Yeah, "sufficiently" is one way to put it. Let's see....at the end of my very long day on Sunday (took me 8 hours from start to finish to tape, paint, and repaint the rooms), I had used all of one gallon of paint. Whoops! Slight miscalculation on my part, I guess! But hey, the fiance used to paint houses inside and out for his summer jobs many years ago...what happened to his expertise when it came to this project? Yeah...no comment from him on that. (I blame the drugs, of course.)
So I purchased 4 gallons of paint at about $23 a gallon, and overshot by 3 gallons, which we have no use for at this time. We might paint the front bedroom with the same color in the future (NOT RIGHT NOW, though...huh-uh), so we're gonna keep one gallon of it. The other two are up for grabs. My coworker is gonna look at the pictures I took to see if she might want them. If not, then I'm going to Craigslist. If I don't get any bites there, I'll go to eBay (via the Twin), and if nothing happens there, then we're having a yard sale in the spring, and I hope I can get a proper amount per gallon at that. It's a good color...very, um...oh! "Classic!" (Seriously though...it really is.) I like how it goes with all the dark wood accents I have decorating our home already. Should be fun to accessorize it even more with a proper couch sometime next spring. I hope I hope I hope...
Work is more than hell today, which I wrongly assessed when I posted yesterday, so I need to get back to it. But have at it, all of you. I have a purple deck and now a pink living room, and I know y'all are itching to comment about it, if you haven't stopped reading this post before now to do so. Let me assure you all again - it's not pink. It just looks that way in certain lights, and with the flash on my camera. (Seems it's better at taking pictures outdoors than in, I've found.) Ok, really have to go now. Bye!
Monday, September 25, 2006
Today is a busy day at work, so I can't say much of anything else. We're preparing for a little mini-event tomorrow night, so I just don't have bunches of time on my hands is all.
But I WILL have time tomorrow for the post about the living room painting saga. Indeed.
Friday, September 22, 2006
I don't know where else to park, though. I don't want to get a ticket for being in one location for more than 4 hours (since I don't plan on leaving at all until the bosses dismiss us hopefully early, my car will be in one spot, fo sho), I don't know if I can park at the top of the lot at the other end of the Plaza, or if that would even help, or what. I'm gonna ask my coworker what she thinks when she gets here. Because I'm a lemming, really. Didn't you know?
The fiance woke up at an odd time today...I could hear him come out of the bedroom while I was putting on lotion after my shower, but then I didn't hear anything else. When I left the bathroom, I went into the bedroom and found him back in bed. "Do you need to pee? I'm done in there now..." No, he didn't need to pee. "Ok, well, do you want me to still wake you at 7? Because it's still a little before 7 now..." Yes, he wanted to go back to sleep until 7, please.
So then he woke up, and I was doing my make-up thing, and then I went in the bedroom to stare at my closet and try to will an outfit into appearing before me, and then I laid back on the bed, because that's what I do when I stare at my closet looking for an outfit - it makes me tired - and the fiance came in and laid across me for a bit, and then the dog joined us and started licking at my face, which was unacceptable because I had fresh makeup on. So I sat up and stared at the closet again, and the fiance said, "Just don't leave me, ok?" And I was all, "WTF? Why would I leave you? I have to go to work, but you're leaving before me, even, so I don't get it." And he explained that he'd had a dream where I'd left him...or more to the point, where I'd broken up with him, and that was why he'd been up and wandering around just before his normal wake-up time this morning. I was all, "Oh honey, I ain't goin' nowhere. You've got nothing to worry about, really." He's so cute.
Got a busy day today, working on getting some stuff done for a work thing I have next Tuesday night, so I'm glad that Blogger isn't being a DICK today like it has been being lately, and I can post and say hello earlier than usual. Not sure if I'll be able to post again, but who knows...
Happy Friday!! Stay away from the Plaza!!!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Ok, so last week, I was gonna tell a story and I never had time to, so now I will. (Even though I don't have time to today, either, but I'm alright on projects, and I've been kicking some ass at work as of late, so I think I can find the time to fuck off a bit...)
So the fiance has a few issues with our requirements to marry in the Catholic church. I won't go into them here, but it's not fun. It has, however, spurred a few very interesting and introspective conversations about religion between the two of us, that's for sure. I like it when we have conversations like that. Especially when they don't seem contrived. Anyway...
So we have this amazing, like, 2 hour conversation about religion and the wedding and the stuff we have to do before the wedding, and then I go to bed, and he followed pretty soon after. (Talking about religion - especially when you talk about it with someone like me - can be pretty exhausting, I've found. Interesting, but exhausting.) So the next morning, I wake up, do my usual morning routine of shower, eat breakfast/play with dog, and then go to wake him up so he can do whatever routine he's chosen to follow for that morning. Sometimes, it's tough to wake him up. Sometimes, he wants ten more minutes, and it's kind of a pain because I need to stop whatever I'm doing and go in and wake him up - again - and then go back to what I'd been doing before I had to interrupt myself. That morning was unusual. He was lying on his back, and when I touched his arm to wake him, he kind of slowly opened his eyes, and then he started talking right away. "I had a dream that we were at church, and the priest was holding up the 'body of Christ', and I went up to him and told him it was too dry, and took it from him and replaced it with a piece of french toast." I kind of cocked my head, like I tend to do when he says stuff that is both interesting and funny at once. Then he continued, "And when people were coming up to the altar to get communion, they were asked if they wanted powdered sugar or maple syrup..."
I'm pretty sure I just walked away laughing and shaking my head. Can't remember exactly since it's been about a week. But I know it made me laugh. The whole thing did...the way he woke up, the way he launched right into the dream re-cap, the dream itself. I have myself a gem of a guy, it seems.
But you all already knew that, right?
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
I don't know how long I'll make it today without losing my mind, but hopefully I'll stay busy and won't have to worry about it much. Taking a walk down the Plaza in late afternoon helped a bit yesterday...even though it was windy as fuck out and it seemed to be bringing a lovely smell of garbage to 47th Street, and I had to pass Jerry the Asshole Panhandler twice on my way to and from Kinko's and BOTH times he asked me for money. The second time, I stopped him mid-sentence to say, "I know ya Jerry, and I'm tired of ya." He said, "Well, I don't care if you know me..." I kept walking, so I didn't listen to see if he had anything else to say. There were more pedestrians passing him pretty soon after I passed him myself, so I'd imagine he directed his attention to them instead. When does he leave for winter break, I wonder? I wish he'd go soon...
I'm gonna go pound out a few tasks right quick, though. One of which will be to take care of the pressure at my back end that is manifesting itself now that I've eaten a bit of breakfast. WOO!
Monday, September 18, 2006
So, yeah...sour mood = no real post for today. Bye-bye.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Yeah, told you. Obviously, we tend to walk down the middle of the deck only around this house. So we picked up a stain a couple of weeks ago at the local store that carries Benjamin Moore paint. The fiance has heard it's a really good brand, and we thought it prudent to go ahead and pay an additional $5 a gallon more for something that might do a better job of protecting the deck over the next couple of years. I picked out a color that I liked, but they didn't have the proper type of base in stock. We wound up going with a semi-transparent base, and chose a color called "Sweet Rosy Brown." After I started staining, though, I decided it has been mis-labeled, and changed it's name to "Sweet Mother of God, My Deck is Purple."
See? Great, huh? (This picture doesn't really do it justice, though. Just so you know...perhaps I'll have a Purple Rain Deck Party in the near future, and I'll invite you all so you can see what I mean about it being purple. Because it's purple. Mother. Fucking. Purple.)
Here's the stain I used:
And I think it might be the same "stain" my hairdresser used on my hair before I went all highlighted and shit...
Our deck is purple. I'm gonna see how it looks in the light of day after it's dried another entire day (i.e. tomorrow) when I get home from work, but just know that it's purple, it's gonna fade into a slightly lighter purple, and we have a purple fucking deck.
Don't you wish you were us?
For the record, I really love the color purple (heh)...just not so much on my deck. Call me strange, if you will. I don't mind.
I’m staining my deck later today, so I’m leaving work early to get it done. Should be cathartic, I hope.
I simply do not understand why people feel the need to treat me as though I’m an imbecile. I love it here at this job, but I almost get the feel that it might be time to look for another one. Which I don’t wanna do. But I feel like people here don’t understand my capabilities, or the fact that every now and then, we ALL have HUA* because we’re human and it happens, but we recover and it’s not necessary to follow-up or check back or double-check my work all the time.
I HAVE 10 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE DOING THIS, DAMMIT!!! Yes, I have my off days. I recover from them quite well, thank you. How about if I’m given some sort of responsibility other than printing things, putting mailing labels on things, and dealing with the boss’s personal shit, eh?
I came from a job where I was single-handedly responsible (at my level anyway) for people’s pay and commission. I was in charge of reporting to upper management about it every month. I was in charge of making sure that people were started in their new jobs properly and on time and with full functionality. I was in charge of so much and had so much responsibility that it almost spoiled me for other things, I think. Going from management to doing a job a monkey could do is just not making me happy. Regardless of whether I’m being paid more here for what I do.
I hate that people don’t have confidence in my abilities. I hate that just because I have a couple of off days - right after I had come back from vacation and had just been proposed to for the first time in my life by a man I love, mind you – I am now being followed-up on like I’m a puppy that’s about to take a shit in the wrong place in the house. I’ve gotten back on track. I’ve completed tasks I was asked to do. I’ve cleaned up and taken care of business and haven’t fallen off the ball even once this week.
But I guess I need to just keep proving myself and deal with it, and get my happy bonus (God, it had better be happy…), and be able to pay my bills and save my money and keep living the way I need to right now. There just isn’t any other way around it, I’m afraid.
*HUA = Head Up Ass
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
I just sat on Ward Parkway going east after getting on it from Shawnee Mission Parkway, waiting to get across the creek one way or another (my preference is usually to go straight past Southwest Trafficway to Wornall and turn left there, but it was closed down today. Of course.), and I shit you not when I say I sat there on Ward waiting to get to the bridge to Southwest Trafficway for over 10 minutes. Not moving! AT ALL!!!
I just don't understand how it could be so poorly executed is the thing. I certainly hope they don't do this sort of re-paving deal every goddammed year, because dealing with Christmas traffic on the Plaza is enough, IMO. I don't need annual end-of-summer re-paving bullshit to go with it! FUCK!!
p.s. For those of you locals that don't get down to the Plaza regularly, and have been thinking that it might be fun to hit it soon for a night out, wait until after the Plaza Art Show, whenever that may be. Apparently, that's what they're trying to get all this road construction done for, and it's absolutely unbelievable how messed up and retarded it is out here on a daily basis, seriously. Just avoid the area like the plague. I know I would if I didn't work here!
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
I'm thinking that it was stupid of me to wait for the heat of August to pass by before I got the project started though. My own fault, really. But it will be very nice to be out there in 80-degree weather instead of 100-degree weather finishing the deck off, that's for damned sure.
Last night, the fiance and I met with a priest at a local Catholic church that seems willing to marry us. He said he had no choice...if he's being asked to marry people, he does it! I thought that was an awfully generous attitude for him to have. I guess I really only contacted one church that had difficult rules about who could be married there, so it's weird that I'm surprised to find other churches (especially big, historic ones) as willing to help as they are. I'm weird, though, so that makes sense. Anyway, that one church that had such stringent rules was a dream church for me, and I guess I'm just sad that they weren't willing to marry a Catholic couple that wanted to get married, as long as the date was available and all. The priest there told me that they had far too many requests for marriage ceremonies there as it was without going outside of their parish boundaries. I find it hard to believe that they have THAT MANY parishoners getting married every year, but whatever. If the Cathedral downtown marries people outside their "boundaries" then other churches should. Hell, there are even ways for people to get married at the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris!! You don't necessarily need to live in Paris for it to be allowed, either. I guess I'm just bitter, or something.
Doesn't matter. The church we will be getting married at (Redemptorist at 33rd & Broadway in KCMO) is beautiful, huge, historic, and accomodating, dammit. That's all that matters.
Outside of working out, coming to work, and dealing with wedding plans (heading to another venue in a few minutes to look it over, actually), I don't have much going on. Football on weekends...that's going on. Drinking lots of beer WHILE watching football...that's going on as well. Ooh...and we might have a chance to go see the Notre Dame/USC game in November, if the guy I was chatting with at the bar this past weekend was on the level. For free, no less. We'd have to pay for our flight out there, of course, and it'll be a short-ass trip too, but still...going to see Notre Dame play USC at the Colliseum? Are you kidding? Yes please...
Ok, must run to that appointment. Later, suckas...
Monday, September 11, 2006
I don't like # 91 on the Bengals, and his bullshit "momentum" excuses. He's a dick, he plays like a dick, most of his fucking TEAM played like dicks, and they can all deal with the consequences of their bullshit celebrating every play, from receptions to tackles to hurting people. Assholes.
I don't like being a personal assistant.
I do like being an adminstrative assistant.
(Yes, there is a difference.)
I don't like buildings that can't figure out how to deal with the temperature changes and humidity issues that come with this change in season from summer to fall.
I do like watching Arrested Development, Season 3.
I don't like it when, after mentioning to the fiance that I feel like I've really been slacking in the workout area lately and need to get back on it as of this week, he agrees with me, therefore causing me to have to say, "Ok, hon? As soon as you get up even one day of the week at 5 a.m. to go and work out, you can make comments about me slacking off. Otherwise, just know that my comments are rhetorical, mkay?"
I do like that the AC just came on again in the building. Perfect!
I don't like the construction shit that's been plagueing the general Plaza area over the past 2 weeks. Tired of it, tired of it, tired of it!
I do like that I get to heat up my chili now. Ta!
Friday, September 08, 2006
By the way, the Twin was concerned that this was the only thing that I'm posting for the day, and went so far as to ask me why it is she even reads my blog. I explained that since I had all of ONE WHOLE response to my faboolous post yesterday about the stupid-ass pedestrian (thank you Sheri! Love you!!!), indeed the only thing I have to talk about today is poop. Sorry to have to give it to y'all straight like this, but barely any comments on what I think was a particularly silly (and time-consuming, I might add...those diagrams don't make themselves, yo) and entertaining post warrants SOME sort of punishment. Jerks.
But really, thanks to all of you who do take the time to stop by once in a while...makes me happy that I can help to make you happy...or...whatever. You know what I mean, I'm sure. I am bursting with a bit o' pride over my blog this week, as I was officially interviewed to be included in the Best Of edition of The Pitch that'll be coming out soon. (I'm not sure when it comes out, actually...November? I dunno...) It's not often that I am recognized for my random, crazy, profanity-soaked commentary on my life, and I really, really, REALLY appreciate that it's considered to be one of the best things that this here little place we call home has to offer. (And don't you go bursting my bubble, anyone named Tony or otherwise...I don't get this sort of attention ever. So nyah. I'm happy, dammit.) I'm not sure how many other KC blogs will be included, but I certainly hope there are at least a few others. Because I KNOW I'm not the Best Of the Best Of, that's fo damned sho!!!
Ok, the weekend officially begins for me in t-minus 30 minutes, and although there is no USC football to be enjoyed this weekend, there is still a Notre Dame game to watch tomorrow, as well as that wonderful match-up between Texas and Ohio State. Man, that's gon' be fun! And the Chiefs will be playing Cincinnati on Sunday, and it'll suck to lose our first regular season game - at home, no less - but that's the way the cookie crumbles, right? FOOTBALL SEASON!!! WOOO!!! Have a good one, everybody...
Thursday, September 07, 2006
So I’m on the phone with the Twin, and there’s this big truck blocking the right hand lane of Wornall at Ward Parkway, as well as blocking my turn into the right hand lane once I got onto Ward Parkway, so I needed to turn right from a left-hand lane into a left-hand lane. (The diagram should help a bit…see below), so I start my turn around this big truck as my light is green, and there’s a pedestrian who is in the crosswalk BEHIND said big truck that hits the spot of street I need to turn into at the very same moment I hit it as well. Basically, I almost hit this dude.
But, here’s the deal, ok? I was going maybe 5 MPH…I had just started into the turn from a complete stop, so it wasn’t tough for me to stop quick and not hit the guy when I saw him emerge in the crosswalk from behind the big truck. But HIS deal, when he saw that I was on my cell phone, was to automatically freak out and yell at me (I could only see his mouth moving…couldn’t hear him as my windows were up) to "Get off your cell phone!" I looked at him quizzically, and then pointed at the ENORMOUS TRUCK that had blocked my view of him while I was in the process of turning. Had I had more time, and had I not been so shocked by the event, I would have rolled my window down and said, "Yeah, I can pretty well drive and talk on my cell phone at the same time, as I’m just that talented. But the big truck that you so non-chalantly walked out from behind was kind of the reason why I didn’t see you and properly prepare for your presence. Asshole."
I have no problem with pedestrians on the Plaza…gotten rather used to them, actually, and as I am one myself now and then, I try to give them as much right of way as possible. But when I CAN’T SEE THEM, I guess I figure that it’s sort of their responsibility to be just as aware of their surroundings as I’m expected to be as a driver. Is that so wrong?
I hate it when I think of come-backs after the fact, you know? That guy pissed me off for a good 10 minutes yesterday, gosh darnit!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
My mother, as many may already know, died several years ago of liver cancer. She lived for about 10 months after her diagnosis, which was pretty remarkable considering the shape her liver was in by the time the disease was caught. It was hard on all of us - even me, known in my family as possibly being made partially of ice, particularly in the heart area - as I'm sure it would be for any family that had to watch their beloved matriarch dwindle away in such a manner.
About a month before mom died, she started giving us information she wanted to pass on to us. I don't know if she did this for the other kids, but I'm pretty sure she did. Anyway, I remember the day very clearly when she was sitting in her green chair upstairs in the master bedroom as I sat beside her between the chair and the window. (This actually might have happened closer to her death than I recall...I can't remember it exactly now, but I figure that the month estimate makes sense.) She told me that she had my dead boyfriend Dan with her...she could see him, actually, and she would be taking him with her to the other side, so I didn't have to worry about him any more. I appreciated that, and I thought it was odd for her to bring it up the way she did (I didn't talk to her about him, even though he died only about 4 months before she was initially diagnosed with the cancer that killed her), so I figured he really must've been there, and it did comfort me a lot when I needed it.
The other thing she wanted to tell me was as follows, and you might want to take this advice yourselves, if you so desire: "When the soap gets to the point where it's halfway gone, just fill it up with water. It's as powerful as it needs to be even with the water added, and you have the soap for twice as long."
These were really important words coming from my mother's dying heart...she wanted to help me, and make sure she gave me the best advice she could right up until her dying day. And she said it to me with all the seriousness that she had just brought my dead boyfriend up with, so I know she really, really meant it. So here's the problem that I have...
Every time I use soap...whether it's at work, or at the gym, or at home, or even when I'm a guest in another person's house, I remember this advice my mother gave me. And although it's been over 8 years since she died, I haven't filled the half-empty soap containers with water even once. When I lived in Boston, my roommates did it with the soap containers we shared in the kitchen and in the bathroom, but that didn't really count, did it?
I HAVEN'T BEEN TAKING MY DEAD MOTHER'S ADVICE FOR THE PAST 8 YEARS!!! And it's starting to catch up with me. I'm not kidding...every time I use soap, I can hear her voice, picture that conversation, and I wonder if she thinks I'm a total asshole because I don't do what she told me to do.
I happen to think it dilutes the soap a bit, so that's why I don't do it.
But I should! I should do it. And I don't. And it's starting to drive me a little crazy.
There's a lesson in there somewhere, I know there is. Anyone who can help me figure it all out will win over my undying appreciation.
Here's what's going on: We've changed our wedding date to October 27, 2007 instead of the 20th. Why? Well, that's a good question, for which we have an equally good answer. The fiance's friend who got married a couple of weeks ago called the fiance on Friday night with some news. He learned that the day that USC and Notre Dame will be playing each other on is - you guessed it - October 20, 2007 at Notre Dame. This simply doesn't fit into my preparation schedule on the wedding day, nor will it work for us to TiVo the game and invite everyone over to watch on Sunday because...well, it just won't. And this isn't just a thing for me and the fiance, by the way. (For those who don't know me well, I'm a HUGE USC fan and the fiance is a HUGE Notre Dame fan.) As the fiance is from South Bend, and many of his family and friends are coming to KC for the wedding, we really don't want to piss anyone off or create any messy situations for anyone who will want to watch that game (usually touted as one of the biggest games of the season for all of college football). Namely ourselves. So, we pushed the date out to October 27, 2007 instead. The leaves will be prettier then anyway. (Yes, only one week can make a big difference.)
The other thing that's going on? I haven't pooped in over 24 hours, and it's starting to freak me out. Again, for those that don't know me well, this is a HIGHLY UNUSUAL occurrence, and I'm almost considering going to the emergency room to have myself checked out, dammit. I was approved for health insurance as of last week, but unfortunately, no payments have been made yet, so I can't go to the emergency room. If I DID have insurance, I'd be there in a second! This is just not normal, I say! I haven't reached a point of being uncomfortable yet, but when I do, LOOK OUT! I'm gonna get crabby...
That is all. More later, I assure you...
Friday, September 01, 2006
So yeah...fucked. Which is fine because I went out to meet with friends last night at the Moose and wound up staying out and up later than I usually do during the week, had a GREAT time catching up with them, and then went home to crash at about 12:20. My head is very tired and a bit sore today.
Ok, I need to go weigh in at eDiets, and get started on some work. Yay! It's Friday! Yaaaayyy!!!