Dead Tired

So completely worn out. Slept about three hours last night, and had to be at school at unbelievable hour of 9:00 to pitch Animated Algebra to math students planning on taking Algebra in the Fall. Drove to Mom's afterwards, and ran several errands with her, including a foot-aching trip to Target. After dinner at her home I went upstairs and continued throwing away my much-loved Easy-Bake collection.

I threw out twelve trash bags of stuff. That's six trips up and down the stairs, punctuated with sweat-filled sessions in my former un-air-conditioned bedroom, struggling with what to keep and what to throw out. Handling boxes the rats had eaten holes in, coming into too much contact with rat turds, unwilling to wipe the sweat off my forehead because I didn't want my face touching my hands. Then there's all the stuff I salvaged -- thirteen small plastic crates and four ovens. Another five or six trips up and down the stairs. My legs are killing me.

I think I've scrubbed all the skin off my hands, and I still feel dirty. I can't use ANY of this stuff until I've washed it all thoroughly, with anti-bacterial soap and scalding hot water. I'm not keeping all of it -- I don't want to find a place to put it all!! -- but I was doing triage. Grab and go, sort later at my convenience in air-conditioned comfort.

Really should have just trashed all of it, but I couldn't make myself do it. And even though I make the mess sound really extensive, the bulk of my collection was safe in Rubbermaid plastic bins. Most of it is just fine. I still threw away most of what the bins held, after opening the packages and taking out anything interesting and non-food. I could have kept all that stuff, but I needed to consolidate so I could have a slim hope of fitting everything into my house.

Some things, like the original 1965 mix sets, the Care Bears set and the Strawberry Shortcake oven and bake sets, are worth a good deal of money. My students can sell those on eBay in the Fall. Others, like the Queasy Bake oven and the Disney Princess ovens, are just too cool to throw out. I couldn't bring myself to toss a single bake pan or measuring cup or decorating accessory. Little things like that are what make up the bulk of the remaining collection.

So what am I going to do with all this crap?

Clean it. Of course.

And then I'm going back on a strict diet, and working out. If I've lost twenty pounds by my birthday in late November I'm going to invite my nieces and nephews over for an Easy-Bake party. We're going to make concoction after concoction, and eat ourselves silly. Chocolate cakes, vanilla cakes, cakes with marshmallows, whatever we can think of. We'll raid my Easy-Bake cookbook collection, and we'll even watch Dinner with Doris (an Easy-Bake VHS tape). We'll decorate everything with mounds of colored icing, and pour on a ton of candy sprinkles. We'll even make ice-cream cakes, because I kept my Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream Cake Maker.

Everyone says rewarding a successful diet with food is a bad idea. I don't care. I want to play with my ovens, and with the kids. If I'm not going to use the ovens I might as well throw them out. And I've already proven I can't do that, so I might as well get a little benefit (and a little fun!) out of the collection. Out of what's left of the collection.

Quieter Day

Spent some time Windows shopping last night, and finally hit upon what could be the perfect combination for the almost-painted breakfast room -- this Ikea table/chairs, and a lamp from Chaisso. The table & chairs are very reasonable, but the lamp is $118.00. (!!!) Maybe, now that I know what I want, I can find a way to fake it. Someone has to have a website on origami lamps.



Bought Mom and Dad lunch in return for their help moving the Perspecta dresser into the bedroom. That was a total cluster. I knew from previous trials that I couldn't make a 78" dresser corner in my 36" wide hallway, but I thought we could turn it on its end and carry it through the door vertically. It was a good idea, and it would have fit through the door, but there wasn't enough ceiling space.

I was ready to forget it and just carry it back into the living room to use as kindling, but Dad suggested we bring it in through the French doors. This necessitated moving the vanity, tearing out one-half of a set of screen doors (no telling where the other door has gone), moving the dresser back through the hallway, and then finally walking across my uneven stumble-prone back yard while carrying a freaking heavy dresser in 90+ Texas heat.

It's in place, finally, and I think it looks great. Photos coming as soon as I change out the artwork. The funky mirrors just aren't working as well as I'd like, And I really need a place to hang the poster R gave me, then one that has driven so much of the design for this room. At least I have a place for my favorite lamp, my chartreuse "swoop" lamp. All I need is a drum shade, and they're pretty popular this year so it shouldn't be too hard to find one.

As she was leaving Mom said again that she didn't like my turquoise/gray color combination. I said I love it. She kept needling the fact. I finally told her I was tired of hearing how she didn't like it.

Wow. I didn't know how badly I needed to say that!! I really do love these colors, and I'm sick of defending my choices every time I turn around. This is my home, and I love it.

(later)

Officially reached the end of my just-got-paid spending spree. I topped off the spree with a completely senseless dress. A totally nonprofessional dress, an out-on-the-town dress. I'm going to make a sheer fichu to go with it, and maybe a small evening bag. And maybe (maybe) spend a day at the mall looking for shoes. I might even embroider the edge of the scarf and the bag. Like I said it's a foolish dress, crying out for moonlight and a glass of merlot and an admiring man.

Anyway, I have to wait for it to arrive in the mail, and it's probably going to look horrible, so I should quit thinking about it.

Gods, what a dress!

(later)

Just realized I'll have to even out my skin tone before I can wear that dress. I'm fish-belly white underneath my clothing, but actually have a little color where the sun kissed me. Have to buy some of that gentle self-tanning moisturizer they're pushing on TV.

Please, gods, please let me look good in this dress, and not be the "before" What Not To Wear example I usually am!!

I don't know why I'm so caught up in this -- it's not like I have anywhere to wear the dress!

Yes, Paint!!!

The breakfast room is well on its way to being finished. I don't know if I'll actually finish tonight or not -- I need a small roller, and I can't find mine. I know I bought one when I painted the hallway, but I just can't find it anywhere. Also have to buy some matching spray paint for the air conditioner floor vent covers.

This is painstaking, persnickety work! About 80% of it involves a small paintbrush. I can only use a roller in two areas. The area I'm working in has the beforementioned book panels, but also a ton of molding. I bought a can of glossy for that, but I think I'm just going to cover the entire thing in semi-gloss. I don't want the molding to be noticeable, and I think gloss would draw too much attention. Since R has painted it all with flat latex the semi-gloss should go over everything without much trouble.

I complain frequently about the mess R left me in this house, but one thing I don't think I blog much about is what a fantastic decorator she is. I learned an awful lot about interior design just by staying in her homes over the years. It was always a treat to come into the house and walk around admiring all the changes from the last time I'd been there. She's great with color (even if her preferred colors are nowhere near mine!) and very inventive. She took thrift-store to a whole new level. I had watched my Mom do thrifts for years, but R's home opened up all sorts of new doors. She's the master of bric-a-brac, which I'm admittedly still trying to get my head around. And the sly humor she would scatter through her home! My all-time favorite is still the four-foot-tall inflatable Egyptian sarcophagus wearing a Stetson while standing in the shower.

She really worked to make her house a haven for herself and her animals. It isn't the cleanest haven imaginable, but it suited her perfectly. She wouldn't have been at home in an organized house. She's not just a cautionary tale, but a role model, too. Thanks to her I have a better understanding of what I can let slide (the bathroom I don't use and haven't cleaned) and what I have to fix NOW. (The paint colors.)

All in all I'm very lucky to have her home. And I'm happy the book boards stay, as a constant reminder of my friend.

Paint??

Working on the bedroom has inspired me to maybe (maybe) paint the horrible kitchen. I've also about convinced myself to take the upper cabinet doors off the hinges and go with the open shelving look. Maybe. If I did that I'd have to move all the food to the lower cabinets, and arrange the top cabinets decoratively, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It would sure cut down on the amount of kitchen crap I buy. I'd be forced to be much more selective.

I just hate that kitchen. But I don't cook enough to make it worth modernizing. And since I'm planning to freaking die in this house the only person I'd be modernizing for is myself. Resell isn't an option.

Lots of work involved in pre-painting. I have to move everything, which is a mammoth task it itself since I have a six-foot folding table in the center of the room. Then I need to tape everything off, and believe me there is a LOT of stuff to tape, especially the faux-book-painted fireplace screen panels.

R. fell in love with the screens. She used them extensively in her home in University Park, and a little in this house, and since we took about ten unopened boxes out of her garage I think they'll be a feature in her new home as well. Anyway, she used them as paneling on one wall of the breakfast room, and a few feet away made a new door for the water heater out of them. I think they're pretty cool myself, so I have to find a way to protect them while I sling latex.

I have to get the painting done quickly, too, since I need almost daily access to my washer and dryer. I guess I could wash clothing for next week before I get started, just in case.

Going to play a couple of levels of Prey first. This game is addictive. Wait -- I'm going to empty the trash first, and deal with the dead mouse. Then play Prey.

(Later)

All that drama-queen remorse for nothing. The mouse, hereafter referred to as Houdini, escaped. I know it was there last night. I saw the trap has sprung, and when I didn't see a dead mouse sticking out of it I decided to move it and re-set it. Thank goodness I moved it with a ruler instead of picking it up. It started squeaking the second I touched it. Then I started squeaking. Decided I could leave it for morning, when it would hopefully be properly dead. Tossed and turned and felt guilty all night. And today the little sucker is nowhere in sight. I just hope he hasn't crawled off inside a wall to die.

And I'll have to repeat the enitre process tonight!!

(Later)

I should be prepping the breakfast room for paint, but instead I'm buying dishes. Where is my head??

It's Curtains

The bedroom furniture has been re-arranged, barring the 78" dresser I just can't move into the bedroom by myself. I've hung my curtains, the curtains I bought back in March, and gee -- I don't really like them. I'm hoping they'll grow on me in daylight.

Fallen in love with Contemporary Cloth, a website with retro and modern fabric.



I cannot afford new curtains. I cannot afford new curtains. I cannot afford new curtains.

Cut and paste has sure changed the 'ole "write that 100 times" punishment.

Blog Heaven

Oh, gods, THANK YOU for HouseBlogs.net!! Weeks of reading materials. I am so happy. Bliss, bliss, bliss. I have a reason to use that RSS thingy now! Two hundred and eighty home improvement blogs!!! THANK YOU!!!! Haven't been this happy since I discovered Domino.

(later)

OK, I'm inspired. I'm ready. I'm set. I'm going to move furniture, and maybe do a little painting, too. The Perspecta dresser has to go in this room, so everything else has to move.

The bedroom is driving me crazy! There are only three possible places to fit the bed, thanks to R's tiled bathroom addition, and I don't really like any of them. There just isn't enough room for a pair of night stands. I think I'm going to have to use tiny, 8" occasional tables instead.

At least my pop-art mirrors won't have to move. They were a pain to hang, but they'll look great over the dresser. And maybe now I can talk myself into hanging the red curtains. The green ones still aren't right, although the dresser makes them a lot closer to right. Wait a sec -- what is West Elm doing this season? And how about Anthropologie? And Urban Outfitters? Maybe I can find better curtains. So what if I've spent over $200 on curtains for that room so far. It's a great room (or it will be) and it deserves to be right.

(ten minutes later)

No new curtains, but I did find that my Anthropologie rug is on sale, at almost half-price. A rug I still can't afford, especially after today's spree and also since I have my heart set on an eggplant suit that I'll love until late November, and will then hate for the rest of my life. It's the kind of color that looks wonderful on me, but wears down my spirit.

ANYWAY -- My 40s vanity is going on the bathroom tile in front of the French doors. I'm trying to decide what, exactly, to do about the doors. I know I could tie back the curtains to frame the dresser. Easy drama. But part of me wants to go back to my original idea, either pasting vellum paper on the glass squares to let in light and allow privacy, or making computer-generated window clings with pastel-tinted vintage art. I do love the window cling project, but maybe I'll save it for the kitchen door, which could use a major pick-me-up.

I'm even considering cleaning the horrible bathroom, which I haven't used since I moved out of that bedroom two years ago. Yuck. It also needs paint -- I never finished around the toilet, because that involves getting down on my hands and knees, and as much as I love decorating that just isn't enough . . . gratification . . . to make hands-and-knees a worthwhile endeavor.

Must go move the sectional sofa back into the studio so I have room to shift the bedroom furniture.

(10:00 PM)

Prey rocks. The bedroom has serious competition. Wow. The graphics are incredible. Cut scenes that don't feel like cut scenes, where you can control which way your player looks! Yucky, gross aliens. Gravity-defying alien ship. Cool teleportation doorways. Wow, yuck, and so totally cool.

(10:30 PM)

Maybe the reason none of my so-called friends ever calls has nothing to do with my friends and everything to do with me. Gods, this is too depressing to even consider. Don't I have laundry to do or something????

(11:06)

I'm about to order the rug. I know, but I neeeed it. When I moved my bed I found that the central support had gouged some nasty marks in the paint finish applied to the floor. I think in the future I'm going to make sure everything in that room has a felt foot. But it's too late for that area. It looks horrible. So I need the rug to throw over the spot. And this nice pink crewel rug will help balance out the modern/shabby chic vibe I'm striving for. All I need now is a black Nelson coconut chair to set on top of it. Maybe I'll luck out and find the chair for half-price.

I am chatty tonight. Probably a good thing I'm alone. I'd drive a normal person to distration.

DecoShopping

Retail Therapy!! I spent all that money, so why don't I feel better?

My favorite purchase is another pair of pink jersey sheets, marked down to $15 at Target. Had to go to three Targets to find a queen, but it's not like I had anything better to do. Current false belief is that if I buy enough pink sheets maybe the male-ish-ness of the world will rebel, and send me a man who would understandably not like sleeping on pink sheets. Also bought pink bath stuff at Ross -- cherry blossom bubble bath, rose soaps, strawberry body lotion . . . all kinds of discounted pink bath nonsense. I wish I actually liked baths instead of showers. Once I figure out what I'm doing with my bathroom I'll have to go on a non-pink spree.



Talked myself out of a red toaster (kitchen is to be turquoise eventually) and a fruit basket and a gorgeous vase and a night stand. Also out of a glass pitcher, which I really do want because I need to drink more water and wanted to keep it full and on my desk while working. But I left it on the shelf since I can't wash it due to my continued water problems. I need to call the plumber, but I want to get the mice under control first.

So I bought mouse traps. I feel mean, but the critters are trashing my house. Yesterday when I walked into the kitchen they just ran over to the washer and watched me. Didn't even try to hide. They're getting just a little too audacious for my comfort. So I bought the cheapie traps yesterday, and spent a frustrating 45 minutes trying to set one trap. Today I bought the more expensive $5 each traps, and a new jar of peanut butter.

Last purchase is Prey, a $50 video game. I need an activity for this evening!! I'd rather be with people, but that isn't possible. Almost called R, but he never calls me and I'm tired of feeling like I'm ramming my friendship down his throat. I want a friend who actually wants to be friends. Isn't that strange?

But maybe instead of a game I'll go all DYI. Fell in love with this over-the-top super-expensive memo board from PBTeen. After all, how hard would it be to DYI this? The hardest pieces would be the marker board squares and the peg board squares. And I'm pretty good with a drill. I'll need fabric scraps and spray adhesive to take care of the bulletin-board squares. I have a ton of chalkboard paint waiting in the studio right now.

Blah blah blah blah

I have the day off, I have a rental car, and I want to have fun.

And all the movies showing sound horrible. It's hot outside. I don't want to drive my rental to the DMA. I don't want to hang out with my super-negative Mom for one more freaking second. I can't afford to spend a lot of money.

On the plus side I'm getting back $500 I paid out for a conference and hotel, so now I can pay off Dell. Then I'll only have two large, scary bills to deal with. If I can ever figure out why the IRS keeps returning my return I should get another $1000. What's with those jerks, anyway? How hard is it to include a note telling me what's wrong with the return?

(sigh) There has to be something fun I can do. And no, buying mouse traps at Target doesn't count.

Face Little Love Know

Not even speculating on that fortune. Too depressing.

Opportunity Long Build Forget

Continued locomotion issues. I have to be at school by 1:30 PM for a meeting with the president, and I can't line up a ride from friends, so I have to take DART again. I'll arrive all hot and sweaty. Isn't that fun? And then my father will have to pick me up again tonight after class, which always puts him in an awful mood.

I hate this. I want my car. I want a car so badly that I'm considering just freaking buying one, so I can start driving now, and damn the cost. But I can't afford it.

I have a bunch of stupid fantasies of W. calling and volunteering to pick me up this evening, which just shows how much this car thing has gotten to me because W. clearly isn't into me and I'm clearly not all that into him. If I were into him I'd be a mess right now because he hasn't called after our not-date. But realistically I'm not expecting him to. We're friends, and that's about it.

I just want someone to rescue me, someone to play knight, so I'm assigning W. the part even though he's ill-suited for it. (sigh) But all the men in my life are ill-suited for that role. The only gallantry I ever experience is from my poor father.

~~~~~~~~~~

Really tired of not having a car. My Dad forgot to pick me up, so I had to call him and wait in front of the school until almost 11:00. I don't have any food in my refrigerator, so I'm drinking sangria with a growling stomach. I hate this.

W. didn't call, which as I said I wasn't really expecting since we're so different. I know we'd never have anything long-term, but the short-term would have been a blast. He's smart to not call me, but sometimes I think maybe people are too smart.

I wish I had never fallen in love last year. I haven't been in love in years, and suddenly my quiet little life seems too little. I want more, and there isn't anyone around willing to give me anything else. This sucks.

Nailed Style HGTV Eclectic

Forgot to draw a fortune this morning, so I'm using my "design horoscope" at HGTV instead:

With your eclectic mix of colors and accessories, you need plenty of space for social interaction. Candles, religious reflections and maps are usually found throughout your favorite rooms.

To add to your diverse spaces, choose a variety of fun colors like purple, turquoise and royal blue.

I think maybe they nailed me. Maybe. The only thing missing is the word RETRO.

It's been very hard for me to define my style. I love the clean lines of modern furniture, but a modern house should be kept by a scrupulously clean person, a definition I'll never meet. Otherwise the day-to-day crap overwhelms the balance and minimalist beauty. I'm also attracted to the whole garage-sale / thrift-store / found-art thing, but that gets very, very cluttered very quickly. And all that stuff needs dusting and care.

Despite my thrift-store ethos, I'm not really a big fan of the whole "item decor" thing -- having stuff around the house that serves no purpose. I don't get fake flowers, decorative vases, candlescaping (yuck), or a fireplace mantle loaded with gods-only-know what floatsam. I like art on the walls, but I'm still coming to terms with my one piece of decorative glass. And I can't decide if I like my origami.

Having a shopping addition doesn't help, either.

I just can't seem to hit my own comfort zone. Not even in my (currently very disjointed) bedroom. The bedroom, incidentally, is about to undergo some substantial changes. I wanted to put the dresser from the Perspecta set in the room, but the wall I had planned to put it against is about six inches too small. If I do put it in the room I'll have to re-arrange all the furniture. (sigh.) I had the room pretty well nailed, except for finding the perfect blonde dresser. Now I feel like I'm almost starting over, especially since the dresser isn't even blonde.

And that AWFUL bathroom!!! Grrrr. I want to change it NOW, but I can't afford any of the changes I want. Then there's the distressing kitchen, currently starting the third week of its plumbing problem.

On the good side I bought two nice design books today, including one on Scandinavian design. I've also fallen in love with a book on Nelson chairs, but I'll have to wait until the end of the month to purchase it, if it's still at Half-Price books.

Been seduced by a magazine again. One of Mom's had a fantastic chair from Pier One. Usually their stuff is waaay to traditional for me, but I could melt with this baby. Available in a variety of colors, including my favorite green, and favorite blue.




I'm trying to decide if I should purchase this once it hits the Pier One outlet, and what I'll have to give up to have these stunners in my home.

Actually, the exercise bike is going into the TV/guest room. When that happens I can move these lovely things into the study, maybe with a small cafe table. Hmmm . . . .

The magazine also had an interesting reader suggestion, writing on mirrors with dry-erase markers. I sort of like this one enough to consider making a marker container a priority for my modern minimalist bathroom.

And lastly it had a five-day diet I might be able to actually stick with, if I can ever talk myself into loving green vegetables. I guess maybe that's my new goal -- broccoli and spinach and peas. (Yuck.) Yeah, that's the new goal. Not romantic love, but vegetable love.

Morning New Shop Back

Wonderful night with W. at Shakespeare in the Park. W. said it wasn't what he was expecting at all -- he really enjoyed the experience. I think he was expecting dull, not the Age of Aquarius production we were exposed to. Lots of great conversation, good food, and terrific weather. I think we both needed this.

Bought FURNITURE this week!! Very excited. It's part of a Kent Coffey set, Perspectia. I have a chest, a dresser and mirror, and two night stands. No telling where the bed has vanished to. Saw the set at the Salvation Army while shopping with Mom, who has financed this purchase. I researched it all on the Net, and the variety of the line is pretty incredible. This vintage ad shows rounded nightstands, but mine are square. The ad's dresser mirror is rounded at the top, but mine is a rectangle, more like the one below I found on an old auction. And that same auction photo shows a chest, but my chest is very different. Mine has the decorative scrollwork across the top, and its hinged and opens like a cabinet. This one looks more like a chest of drawers.





Also found the desk up for auction in Garland, and I'm really thinking of purchasing it too -- but I can't afford it, and I don't have room for it anyway. All this new furniture will go in the guest bedroom, but right now it's in the living room because I can't fit it in the guest room due to all the boxes.



What am I going to do when I've filled the house with furniture??? Will I be able to sell what I have as I upgrade? Or will I have to just donate my "old" look, and let someone else have the joy of purchasing it at their local thrift?

The Tiffany exhibit is still on next weekend's horizon, barring car-less-ness. I'm supposed to get the car back middle of next week, but I'm not counting on that. And a theater in Addison is doing Into The Woods, which remains one of my favorites. I'm going to go see that soon, too. I need to do more things like this more often, and do less of the sit-at-home thing.

Tomorrow will not be fun. Mom told me that a rat has gotten into my Easy-Bake collection, and I have to go to their house and do something about the mess. Ugh.

I have to come to terms with that collection, anyway. Easy-Bake ovens are about a lot of things to me -- about the toys I didn't get as a child, about the luxury of eating all that cake and icing, and the creativity of making all those little baked goods. But as an adult this collection is also about wasting money, wasting storage space, and eating a potential ton of unneeded calories. I have to make a choice here. What, exactly, is my life about? What can I afford, and what will I have to give up to move forward?

Part of the answer, of course, is that my beloved collection is about to be jettisoned. And since I'm the only person to ever collect Easy-Bake stuff I can't resell any of it at a profit, except maybe the Strawberry Shortcake and Care Bears kits. So I'm going to get a bunch of Hefty bags and start trashing a three-year-old collection.

I'm not forsaking everything, though. I'm going to open each set and take out the baking tools, the instructions, and any non-edible parts. I'll keep a couple of ovens, the drink dispensers, and the cotton-candy maker. I'll have the ability to indulge, but I won't have the calories sitting around for the rats to eat. And the resulting items will take up a lot less space. I think I'll be able to get everything in two large plastic totes, instead of the 20+ totes it occupies now.

Really don't want to do this, but there are a lot of things I don't want to do. This is the down side of being a grownup.

Blah Blah Night Smells

Can't remember the other two words in my fortune!! Must update this once I get home tonight.

Very tired of not having a car. I don't know yet what it will cost to have fixed, or if it's even fixable. This delay is what happens when I take my Dad's advice and use his mechanic. I should have followed my own instincts and left the car in Cleburne on the side of the road. I know I'm going to have to get a new car, and I can't afford the car payments right now. I don't know what I'm going to do.

Days I take DART to campus. It's a long, dull, sweaty 45-minute trip. Campus, mind you, is five miles from my house. Public transportation sucks. The last bus for the evening runs while I'm in class, so my grumpy father is picking me up and driving me five miles to my practically food-less house. I haven't worked up enough nerve to ask him to stop at the grocery store, so I've been living on dry cereal, ravioli, past-date chocolate pudding, and water.

My niece spent two nights with me, so I did order pizza one night. R was a lot of fun. She came to school on Tuesday. Spent the afternoon watching me read and answer emails, then attended class in the evening. She also played with the play-dough in my office (am I a cool aunt or what?) and helped with a bulletin board. I think she enjoyed everything, especially doing the same assignments as the grown-ups in my class.

(later)

OK, it's Night Never Right Smell, and I know exactly what it's referring to. Currently growling at the computer screen while eating CARBS, damn it. Pissed. Must put on some music and get past this annoyance, as I have gotten past it so many times in the past. Can't let this piece of stupidity get to me. What was I expecting, anyway?

Focus on the weekend . . . focus on the weekend . . .

Clean my house on Friday, and then on glorious Saturday I'll see Shakespeare with W, who is perfect for this outing. He's funny, articulate, and inquisitive. I can't think of anyone I'd rather share the evening with.

I'm supposed to take care of the food, but since I don't have a car I'll have to make due with whatever I can carry from the grocery store and create in my own (messy) kitchen. That's right, the kitchen with the plumbing problems.

I want to go to the Tiffany exhibit on Sunday, but since I'm car-less I'll have to wait until next weekend. Currently planning on viewing this one by myself. I don't think any of my friends are up to seeing a master designer's exhibit with a designer.

(later)

Love it -- great act -- Excerpts from Bad Girls Upset By The Truth with Jo Carrol Pierce.

"I don't wanna win, and I don't wanna loose,
It seems like there's something else we could do.
I don't think I'm supposed to be this blue.
You keep botherin' me.

Isn't there some other girl out there that you could never CALL???"

Absent Fridge Home Miss

Stayed overnight at my parent's house (car still non-operative) and missing my fridge I'm having to make due with an ever-so-boring horoscope entry from Yahoo.

There's a lot going on in your life right now that your friends and family don't know about -- and they should! Make an effort today to widen your intimacy circle and bring more people into it. This can be easily done with a mass email. Your people may have inspiring words for you -- and you may inspire them to open their lives up a bit more. You hold the missing piece in a puzzle someone you love is working on. Today reconnect with your loved ones and share yourself.

Yeah. Tell my family?? I don't think so. They know about my career (they're probably sick of hearing about that) and my car problems and my ongoing plumbing nightmare, and practically every other detail in my life. Anything that's left (mostly stupid unrealistic romantic wishes) is personal, private property. (Not like any of them know my blog address!!) So much for horoscopes.

Over the past few days I've been reconsidering a situation. I think I made a mistake in the spring. I let my ego and my false expectations get between me and someone who has the power to make a difference in my life. Someone who mildly injured my pride, and (as a result) whose friendship I didn't think I needed. Yesterday I made a premeditated effort to regain lost ground. We're going to try the friendship thing again. I don't know if we can make that work or not, but I have to at least try.

Must face it, I suck at friendship. I invest too much, and hope for too much, and get disappointed when no one ever calls. This is real life, not my best friend from junior high. People don't want what I have to offer, and people certainly don't want to respond in kind. Must get over this, and let friendships be what they are.

Letter Flame Cold Know

My lack of car didn't hinder my afternoon plans too much thanks to R's generous offer to drive us to the theater. Spent a quiet, enjoyable afternoon with him, watching Dead Man's Chest and browsing through Half-Price Books.

Lots of interesting books today. One in particular had me laughing and blushing as I pulled it off the shelf, so I brought it home to guiltily enjoy.

So this unusual book, the book I can't get out of my mind, is probably the focus of my 'fridge fortune. This book (letters) has thrown the final pan of water on a notion I've been playing with (flame cold) and in the process given me the knowledge that I need to move in a different direction.

Jerk Embrace Dazzling Keep

Bad day. OK, really 40% good 60% bad.

Started out spending other people's money, something I love dearly. Ordered equipment for the eBay store. Then drove Mom and nephew to nephew's house out in the middle of nowhere. When we were ready to leave (after exchanging nephew for niece) that damned "check engine" light came on, and my car grinded to a halt. I don't know what's wrong with it yet. I probably won't know until Monday. Dad says it sounds like I threw a rod, which can cost $$$$$$$$. Trying to decide if I should just buy a new (used) car or not, but I just spent $600 on this one. If I need a new engine then it'll pretty much be a new car, so why not?

I was going to Shakespeare tonight to see The Temptest. Oh well. I was going out with a friend tomorrow to see Dead Man's Chest, but now have no way to get to the theater. Oh well.

This sucks. It's interfering with things that are important to me, and I can't flipping afford a new engine.

Buck Blue Play Never

Reached a new culinary low. Currently eating sunflower seeds (after I shell them) while drinking sangria.

Today's fortune obviously bemoaning my debt mountain, and how it has affected my ability to play. Going to see Dead Man's Chest anyway. Sometime this weekend.

Problem Worst Help Show

After an incredible weekend I'm drinking and feeling blue, which is only to be expected. My mood swings are predictable if nothing else. Tonight's blues theme: female intuition.

Watched The Love Letter, which reminds me why I don't have TV. An entire population, gripped by the power of a letter. Like most women I too want a love letter. I want someone to take the time to draft and re-draft, to crumple and discard, to stare off into space struggling to express the (hopefully) inexpressible.

And instead of finding myself a poet or a journalist or a novelist, I instead consistently fall for the strong silent type. The incredibly silent type. The kind who has trouble with simple dinner conversation, who has trouble finding words for everyday situations, the kind who accidentally insults people with an innocent suggestion. Men who don't understand and avoid poetry, and who sometimes avoid me because I'm gazing at a moon seeing romance when all they're seeing is that it's hard to freaking see in the dark.

When I was in college I didn't understand this inclination, this need for for the non-talker. I finally rationalized it away, saying opposites attract, and (lately) that I was learning to speak a new language. One built of actions and gestures instead of words. A language defined by its very ambiguity, by the silent freedom to mean whatever we needed it to mean at that moment in time. I had opened the primer for a language without stress, without accents, without anything to read between the lines. The Zen language of love.

Until I made the worst mistake of my life and told him how I felt. Until I broke the silence with (of all the stupid things) a poem. Reality came crashing down around my ears, his hands silently tapping out that he doesn't care for me.

No hidden language, no unexpressed bond, no desire for anything deeper. The moonlit ocean I thought was in front of us was actually a mud puddle. Shallow and superficial, and not of much importance to him at all. I would imagine he was thinking of me, when he was in fact thinking of 60 Minutes.

I was reading between the line, all right. Reading stuff that wasn't even there. Trusting my heart, opening it based on a few flimsy pseudo-deductions. Following my instinct down a path of faulty conclusions, miscommunication, and false hopes.

And that's the problem. How can I ever trust myself again, after failing so badly? I thought I was safe, I thought we both knew what was going on, and I sent that stupid poem only to find out I mean less to him than the sports announcer on the ten o'clock news.

How could I have thought that was love? How could I have made that mistake? And what if I make it again, with someone less honorable, someone who takes advantage of me and hurts me more than I've managed to hurt myself this time?

And if I'm wrong about something as important as love, then what else am I wrong about? What other mistakes am I making? What are my friends not telling me? And are they even my friends? Is the paint on my living room wall really was amazing as I think it is? Am I any good with words at all? If I can't talk him into trusting me then I'm not good enough, am I?

I'd like to think the solution would be to just date the wordy. Date a person as immersed in verbal as I am, find someone else who blogs nonsense and then deletes it. But how could I trust that person, knowing personally how easy it is to tell people what they want to hear, and how difficult to tell them what you need them to know? I'd be playing a player who was playing me. And neither of us would watch our mouths, because words are easy. Easy to hurt someone with, easy to use when you need to make up. Easy to shape to your bidding. I'm afraid we would use words when we shouldn't, that we would be blinded by our verbal fireworks, and that amid all that babble we wouldn't know when to take each other seriously.

So I'm stuck. I can't trust myself, can't risk loving the silent, and can't dare to love the talkative.

I don't know which way to jump.

Girl Now Build Infinite!

That's a pretty damn cool fortune, too.

Waiting for L to show up so we can drive to my former favorite boss's lakeside home. A bunch of girls will be arriving today (now) to build a weekend full of infinite fun. I can't wait. My goal is to spend as much time on the water as possible. I'm sure we'll get to go out on the speedboat, and L. is carrying her new kyaks. I've never tried a kyak before.

I love vacations like this, vacations to an actual home, a place with aspirin and irons and hair brushes and whatever else I freaking forgot to pack.

I fantasize some days that I, too, will have a lakeside home. But to get that I'll have to marry and get that double-income-no-kids thing going. And since it's a little late for marriage I guess it's also too late for a lakeside home. Will have to figure out a different retirement option.

Doesn't freaking matter. Water, lots of water, infitite water, very soon. I am happy.

Make Bottle Huge Feel

Isn't that kinky? I think it's my favorite fortune yet.

Now if I could just get some of that kink out of my vivid, overextended imagination and into my life!!! What is with this, anyway? How can someone as, umm, "open to suggestion" as I am be stuck in a life without even a suggestion box?

Gods . . . suggestion box. That's funny. Have to revise that a little -- I have a suggestion box, but it's empty.

Need to find a large bottle or two to shove in there.

I do not want to teach tonight. Dullsville. No fun. Boring.

Instead I want to laugh and drink too much wine. Freaking flirt a little, which I can't do worth a damn any longer. Have someone tell me I'm pretty, and sing badly to good music. Tell a secret, and listen to a secret. Play spin the bottle, make out, feel incredible, and massage some huge biceps.

(later)

I think maybe the reason I feel so trapped some days is because I am trapped. I can't believe I've never thought of this before.

The people around me, while I like them, are mainly conservative liberals. That sounds like a contradiction, but it isn't. They're democrats, they believe in education and equal rights and diversity and sexual equality, but they lead very stilled, conservative lives. They dress conservatively, they talk conservatively, they eat conservatively. My parents are in this category, and so is almost everyone I work with. (Except for two thank-the-gods workmates.)

They don't treasure all the non-fitting oddities of life, they don't enjoy the occasional raunchy joke, they don't like weird flying kung-fu movies, and they don't carry on imaginary conversations with ghosts haunting their homes.

Oh, I have a conservative streak, too. I dress conservative, mainly because a fat woman in lush clothing looks pretty Earth Mother revolting. And I eat very boring foods, even though I'm trying to break that. And I don't have a sex life, which is about as fucking conservative as you can get.

Maybe on days like this when I'm feeling emotionally hog-tied it's because I am hog-tied. (I wish.) I don't have anyone to bounce my energy off of, no one to play with. I'm just shouting into the universe, and (as always) no one is answering.

I want someone to play with. Is that really too damn much to ask?

Gift Sorry Create Out

Spent a good deal of yesterday and all of today captured by a book. It's been a while since I've let that happen, let myself avoid my reality by escaping into a fictional reality. It was nice while it lasted.

No clue what the fortune of the day means. I haven't done anything creative, and I can't think of a whole lot that I'm sorry for, at least not much new. No gifts, unless you count escapisim. And out?? I haven't left the house.

Tomorrow should be a work-filled day. Lucky me.

Baby Deserve Perfect Relax

The most perfect kiss EVER!!!! The smoothest, the most Hollywood. Which is only right since he's so gorgeous Hollywood himself. No awkwardness. No knocked noses. No looking at his shoes before working up enough nerve to put his arm around me. And damn, what a kiss!!! Zing!!!! I was afraid I had forgotten how to kiss. After all, it's been over a freaking decade.

Not my favorite kiss, but this certainly makes the top 10. I didn't even see it coming. Damn, he's smooth.

I went out about 8:45 to find a place to watch the fireworks, and I ended up on a hillside lot off O'Connor Ridge. I had it to myself for a while, but shortly after the fireworks started a little preppy car pulled up, and two women and a man climbed out.

As they climbed the hill I joked they were invading my space. One of the women laughed, and offered merlot in return for squatting rights. Abby, Meredith, and their brother Michael sat beside me like old friends. It was freaking strange. I don't do the make-friends-with-strangers thing, but it was happening, right there in front of my eyes.

We drank the wine and chatted and admired the fireworks. Michael and I hit it off. Nothing major, I thought, just a nice, intense conversation that started with favorite movies and meandered through multiculturalisim and gun control before ending up with education. Abby and Meredith mostly rolled their eyes, and talked about someone's baby shower.

Yeah, he was nice, but he's just not my type. Too perfect. Wavy dark hair, intense green eyes, tight yes-I-work-out body. That polished look some guys have, the whole smart, successful, nice thing. Plus the sexy eyes. The kind of guy who shows up soap operas with the nice job (architect -- really) and a bedroom history that would make even the likes of me blush if I ever knew the full details.

So I thought we were just talking, just killing time with merlot while he humored his sisters' wish to see fireworks after eating BBQ with the parents. Just an enjoyable, idle, say-whatever-the-hell-you-want because you'll never see these people again conversation. I even pretended to be republican just to get his democratic goat.

The fireworks were beautiful, as always. I could smell the bug repellent and the merlot, and the rain. The fireworks were competing with the lightning off to the east, and the whole thing was wonderful.

Then, when the firework show has its last, glorious all-or-nothing display Michael unexpectedly slipped his arm around my shoulders. I turned my head to look at him, and he kissed me. Ummm. I can still feel it. Wow. Then he pulled back for a second, looked into my eyes, pulled the scunchi out of my hair, and pulled me in closer for another kiss. One hand in my hair (YES!!!!) and one caressing my jaw. My knees turned to butter.

Then Abby turned around (we were a little behind them) and said something about wanting to get home before eleven. We broke the kiss, and smiled at each other. He explained he was driving Abby back to Rowlett tonight. He looked flustered for just a second, like he hated leaving me on the hillside. He handed me a card, and said "Call me."

Then the best moment of the entire evening. I recovered my balance. I grinned, and teasingly said "You know that's not how it works -- you call me." His sisters laughed when I handed him my card. I leaned forward and kissed him one last time, and walked down the hill to Abby and Meredith's applause.

Wow. Such a Hollywood thing, from start to finish. And totally unexpected. I'm so glad I had that last closing moment, because reality is hitting home in a big way tonight.

He's just too perfect. Usually when I think of kissing someone like that, someone with that effortless, privileged elan, my stomach tightens and sours. I get tense. I can feel angry heat rising off my skin. And I can hear the laughter, just like in school when M would harass me while everyone watched. It seems sometimes like every freaking popular boy in the whole school watched him pinch me and fondle me. I was the biggest walking joke ever. They all watched. No one ever tried to stop it, except once single time when the captain of the football team told M he was a bit of an asshole sometimes, and walked away from the show.

I will say by high school that was the norm. In junior high everyone giggled, but by high school they had a bit more moral fiber, and they just avoided the situation entirely. But they still invited that sadist asshole to their parties.

I don't pray often, but whenever I do I say a special prayer for Susan Abrego, who finally helped me put a stop to that situation. Thank you, Mrs. A!! I don't know if I ever told you, Mrs. A, but I went to four other teachers in four years. Every one of them told me to deal with it.

So it's hard for me to trust good-looking men. My first instinct is to keep them at arm's length (hell, room's length) but since high school I've learned they might be decent people even though they're pretty.

My friends since high school have helped, some of who are amazingly beautiful but who were also picked on for one reason or another. And my better-looking students helped, too, because I could impartially view their interactions with their less-beautiful classmates. By and large they've been caring, compassionate, humane people. It's helped to work with beautiful people, and to discover that not all of them were beautiful in high school. And that some of them tried to do something about situations like mine. Of course it helps that I'm working in a place where our goal is very much to help people improve their lives, to reach for their dreams, and to help stop injustice and cruelty. There just aren't many sadists working at community colleges.

So I have pretty friends, and I've even dated pretty for a couple of months, but I can't fully trust pretty. I have never taken my clothes off for a pretty man, and I don't think I ever will. Standing naked in front of someone pretty would be too much like standing in front of M again. I need to be with someone who has also felt pain, and who I know in every corner of my heart would never intentionally hurt me. Gorgeous Michael will always be too pretty to earn my ultimate trust.

Not that it really matters, because gorgeous Michael isn't going to call.

But I'm not going to think about that too much. I could get into the whole pity cycle if I'm not careful, which is silly because even if he did call I'd break it off inside a month because he's just too good-looking.

So no, he won't call. But he did kiss ME. Not some other girl, and by that time the hill was covered with several who were prettier by far. But I'm the girl, the one who for whatever fireworks-induced crazy merlot-inspired moment, received that totally unexpected, utterly perfect kiss.

Zing!!!!!!

Dog New Race Support

". . . 'cause I've been workin' like a dog . . . "

Spent eight hours at school on my day off, working on Animated Algebra. And now I'm working at home, trying to design new support materials for the class. I don't know if I'll make it through the Fall rat-race.

I could also use some support, academically and emotionally. I need another student assistant, one who can work just for me and not up in the lab. Someone who can get things accomplished quickly and without a lot of direction. And gods, it would have been nice to have someone distract me this evening with a television or a conversation or dinner. But no one is around, and I'm running scared, working long after I should quit.

Fireworks are exploding outside. Thought they were at the high school down the street, which is nice because I can see them for free, but they seem to be off in the other direction instead, where I can't see them. Not like I needed a break anyway, right? These 32 PowerPoints need to be finished now!

Wanted to go see Dead Man's Chest tomorrow. but I can't find a local theater, and I don't want to drive all over town by myself. It looks like it doesn't go into extended release until Thursday. Oh well.

Might go to my former supervisor's lake house this weekend, which would be a wonderful blessing. My soul needs peace, and I'm always able to find it on the water.

Baby Fetch Embrace White

Thinking about paint today, lovely latex paint in gun-metal gray. After all, I don't have anything else to do for the next four days.

Don't have a clue what my fortune means, unless Mom asks me to drive her to fetch assorted grandkids. I can think of lots of, well, interesting meanings I like better, but the grandkids are the most obvious "answer."

(later)

Mom has finished the 4th of July dress she made for Princess L, so we're meeting them for dinner. That probably makes Princess L is the baby of today's fortune. And I guess I'll get a hug, so there's the embrace. And I've been fetching white-wine sangria from the fridge all day. Fortune accomplished.

(later)

Gods, I am so bored. I should have stayed home. Took the last of the sangria over as a present for my mom, and she greeted me with a scrunched-up face and a suspicious "What is that?"

Something is telling me this won't be an enjoyable evening.

(later)

Dinner wasn't as terrible as I thought, mainly because Princess L decided to grace my car with her solemn presence for the trip to Red Lobster. She gave me dating advice on the way, and it was everything I could do not to laugh. She was being so serious!

I should be nice to grown-up boys, she says, so I can get married. When I told her I didn't want to get married because I would have to share my house she told me I was being selfish, and that selfish people are bossy. I should also go to the store and tell men my name so I can meet them. And lastly I found out her daddy ordered his friends online. I'm going to have to ask her daddy to order a few extra friends for me next time he places his order.

(old stuff)

Photos of the promotional materials I made for the Video Game Learning Community. I'm very happy with these -- they're all real-life "found" objects, with a good 3D feel. Students see their favorite games on the walls and actually read the advertisement! For the boxed ones they actually open the boxes!!! What could be cooler??

Buck Red Invest Rest

Going to see Midsummer Night's Dream tonight. It's going to be a musical so I'm a little worried for the production. What if it's horrible?

I'm meeting everyone at Boston Market, where we'll grab to-go meals before driving out to the park. I have a cardboard cube of sangria I purchased at Target -- don't say I never live dangerously! Trying to talk myself out of buying and adding extra strawberries. And I also want one of those wonderful bundt cakes from Corner Bakery.

It'll be a night of indulgence all around. Moonlight and poetry and sangria and friends and insect repellent.

Today's fortune is saying "Give your wallet a break -- you're in debt, remember?" Maybe I can skip the strawberries after all.

(later)

Decided fortune really meant I should invest in the things that are important to me, so I bought the strawberries, took a long nap, and am about to do something with my (red) hair. Sangria is smashingly good. I have to take off a little early to pick up plastic cups and the bundt cakes. I think there will be six of us, so I think I'll get three cakes so everyone can get a taste.

Very excited about this. About the only thing better would be a romantic evening, but that just isn't in my cards so I'll settle for (and enjoy every second of) this group thing instead. I am *not* letting my insecurities or my false hopes spoil my evening.

(even later)

So much for Shakespeare! The evening started out fun, even though getting to the park was a comedy of errors. But once we were at the park with our gear all spread out the skies opened and the rainfall made most everyone run for the shelter of the pavilion.

I had already moved twice, and liked the novelty of being in the rain, so I stayed where I was. IG stayed, too. We bundled up in blankets and talked for half an hour until the rain stopped.

The performance was delayed until 9:00 PM, but the company felt the stage was still too unsafe so the performance was cancelled.

It was fun, though. The six of us had a blast, and finished off one of the sangria cubes. I think if the performance had continued we would have finished off the other cube as well.

We had fun anyway, eating dinner on the lawn and laughing. Everyone has agreed to think of this as a picnic instead of a cancelled performance.

We have performance rainchecks, but I have a feeling we won't be able to get a large group together any time soon. IG is going back to the Ukraine next week, A's mom will go back home, and A&A have parents coming into the country. The new running joke is that I can use the spare tickets as an incentive to meet men on match.com -- make a headline like "Redhead with Outdoor Shakespeare Tickets Seeks Soulful Insect-Repellent-Carrying Blanket-Mate." Of course I'll never actually have nerve enough to do that, but it's fun to think about.

I didn't eat much of my dinner, thanks to the moving and the rain, so I'm waiting on the pizza delivery. More money I shouldn't be spending. At least I have sangria to keep me warm.

(much, much later)

Just realized I'm at the beginning of a five-day holiday. I don't have to be on campus again until Thursday. Damn. I hate long holidays like this. Nothing to do but rattle around my house thinking about how much I want someone to talk to. Oh well. The house could use a good cleaning, I suppose.