Latest Obsession

I know, it's hard to keep up with all of my obsessions, but since we're out of boot season and into strappy sandal season, here's my latest I-want-it-so-bad-I'd-give-up-cocktails-for-a-month.

P R E T T Y.

Because I don't have silver strappy shoes, that's why, and I need them to complete the ensemble that I plan on wearing soon. Cause I'm all about the ensemble.....it's like presentation.

These would only be....oh.....let's see.....carry the two.....um......

28 happy hour margaritas.

I bet Jamie could do the math.....

Free Ballard Day!

(Notice how I'm conveniently glazing over all the recent blog activity? La la la...can't hear you...buffer zone...la la la...)

Today is Free Ballard Day! MyBallard.com has some good links to help those of you not from 'round here understand all those Free Ballard bumper stickers and t-shirts. Today, we Ballardites shall wear black and ponder, just how important is clean drinking water?

Let my people go.

Wednesday Night Special

Jessica is not just for Mondays anymore.

She's staying over tonight since Monday was a holiday. And she would like me to let everyone know that we are intelligent, educated women who DID NOT watch Gossip Girl tonight (only because it's not on tonight), but instead had a very intellectual conversation about the ballet.

Jessica: "I would very much like to go to the ballet, Rae-rae. I very much enjoy the ballet."
Rae: "Fabulous, Jessica. Let us enjoy the ballet together. We are very educated. We do not enjoy tweeny little shows like Gossip Girl."
Jessica: "Hear, hear, Rae-rae."

See? We are very cultured.

We did watch Hedwig and the Angry Inch, which brought our culture level down a couple of notches, but oh well. Whadya gonna do?

According to the Stranger, there is a belly dancing show in Fremont next Monday night. We may attend that (since Gossip Girl had it's finale last week and is now re-runs).

When Blogs Collide

First and foremost, it appears that I have some new readers.

Welcome, new readers!
And my apologies for so few posts recently.

Since my personal life (see: Todd) has been ramping up lately, I haven't been as diligent (see: bored) as in the past when I would blog about what I bought at Bartell's, how wonderful my vacuum cleaner is and the fact that SOS pads made me homesick.

And maybe that's for the best.

But I'm also in a "buffer zone", so I'm not ready to tell you much about my new friend just yet . I need a little time to wrap my head around this sudden change in my life. Normally, I would be digging for the pretty pink pills and curling up in a ball on the couch at the thought of OH MY GAWD MORE CHANGE.

But not this time.

This is good change.
This is a new chapter.
This is a clean slate.

This may be what I've been waiting for.......

Movies, Milo, Lingering OCD Symptoms and Instant Gratification

One of the side effects (she says with love) of hanging out with Todd (formerly known as Tbone, which was getting a lot of questions, so we're sticking with his real name from here on out) and his bonafide Movie Friends is that I'm getting exposed to a lot of movies that I've never seen and in some cases, never heard of.

That is one helluva sentence.

The Friday night movies this week were The Specials, with Thomas Hayden Church whom I just love, love, love, and Free Enterprise, which was hysterical, although I think I missed some of the references because I haven't seen a lot of Star Trek and Star Wars and those other star movies. Then last night, Todd and I went to see The Visitor at the Harvard Exit. Very good. A bit bleak, but beautiful.

I also got in some Milo time in yesterday afternoon. Such a cutie.

The baby meter has officially exploded.

Today, I finally grocery shopped. And it took two hours. I couldn't make a decision about anything. I hate those moods. I also found myself straightening the items on the shelves. This tells me I need to take some me time and relax a little bit. Lots of stuff rolling around in the old noggin, apparently.

After grocery shopping (you're just enthralled at this point, aren't you?), I toodled around the house, doing some random projects that I just haven't been able to get to lately. Printed out some pictures, put some other pictures in some frames, swiffered my desk. And then I ran across a coaxial cable and remembered that I had been meaning to check my cable outlet. Rumor has it, I might have free cable.

And whadya know?
I have free cable.

Slight rant:

This would have come in very handy during football season. This free cable includes FSN and ESPN. I could have been watching Monday Night Football, dammit! And most of the Seahawks games were on FOX. I wrestled with rabbit ears for five months! Double dammit!

Anywho, my cable cord is too short, and I can't have my TV just skootched in the middle of the living room for the sake of a clear picture. So I walked down to Radio Shack (it's 70 degrees and sunny as all get out here!) and bought a 25' cable. Instant gratification. Love that.

And it's only Sunday! I have a whole 'nother day off!

I feel like a cat. I just want to lay on the floor in the patch of sunlight and take a nap.

Hmmmm
And why not?

Oh, Happy Weekend!

And we're off! Three day weekend! Woohoo!

Got out of work early. Actually, I asked for the day off but I guess that was pushing it. So I left at 12:30pm. Good enough!

And my weekend began with five, count 'em, 5! loads of laundry. I like it better when Fremont Maytag does it. It's taken up my whole afternoon. To keep occupied, I watched Tombstone since it's been a topic of conversation with Tbone and his friends recently. I love that movie.

One of my favorite quotes? And there are so many.....
Doc Holliday, who has TB, to his gal, Kate, as she gives him a cigarette:
"It's true. You are a good woman. Then again, you may be the antichrist."

And now getting ready to head out to movie night.

Tomorrow, maybe lunch with Jamie. Maybe some grocery shopping (I'm down to eggs, a block of tofu, pickles and whipped cream. I can't find any recipes for these ingredients.) Need to get in some Milo time at some point this weekend. Sunday night is a work friend's party. And Monday....hmm. I don't know. There's enough going on, so I'm sure something will pop up.

Then back to my closet of an office on Tuesday.
Work dread has already set in. Crap.

But until then! Wheeeeee!

I Got Nothing

Because my back is pinched and I'm uber cranky, I have nothing for you today. Must have been all that hair tossing yesterday.

So I give you Glen and Marketa. I love this version of "Into The Mystic". And watching/listening to Glen just makes me wanna wail.

My Hair Hurts

On my way to work this morning, I remembered that I failed to order coffee for our 9am faculty meeting. Big boo boo.

So I used my feminine wilds on the catering staff and batted my eyelashes and tossed my hair and begged and pleaded for coffee and donuts for our meeting, with a mere 40 minutes to spare. Gotta keep the docs happy.

But after all that, I gave the catering guys the wrong room number. Wrong floor number, too. I had run back up, commence the begging and pleading because they had already headed to the wrong room on the wrong floor and realized I screwed up.

And even though I had ordered coffee, I knew I was going to need oodles of my own coffee so I grabbed my purse right before the meeting, only to realize I didn't have my wallet with me.

Perfect!

Commence hair tossing and eyelash batting again. One of our techs was nice enough to loan me a couple bucks for coffee. I owe him.

And I have a lunch date, so there will be EVEN MORE hair tossing (I'm so dizzy) and a promise to return the favor soon.

Thank goodness I'm having a good hair day, huh?

And holy crap, it's already 11am!
Time flies when you're freakin' out all morning........

I Sold My Pony For Cocaine!

The season finale of Gossip Girl was tonight.
Go Serena! Bangs guy is HOT!

Now we're watching One Tree Hill. But don't tell Jessica I told you. She'll hit me.

I don't know what the hell's going on with this show but the blond guy is cute and the little boy is adorable. My baby meter is at 1000.74 %.

And there hasn't been a scene yet that doesn't have some kind of montage music in the background. The whole damn show is a montage!

"That's called a montage (Montage!)
Even Rocky had a montage (Montage!)"

And I bought Esther a pretty votive candle holder.
Cause I'm a giver.

* Jessica would like it noted that we do not normally watch One Tree Hill. It merely came on after Gossip Girl and we couldn't find the remote. We are not fans. But the montages are nice.

Jessica doesn't like it when I blog during our bonding time.

Best quote ever:
"I was afraid of the immensity of your love."

Jessica wants to be immense. She wants the greatness.

I'm buyin' the pony back!

My Apologies To Esther

Oh, karma is going to punish me bad for this one.

I have not yet confronted my upstairs neighbor. After last week, and my very cranky post about being awaken in the middle of the night, things have been very quiet upstairs. There were a few nights when I didn't hear a peep and thought maybe Esther had spent the night somewhere else. I jokingly said to my friend that maybe she ran across my blog and read about my frustration.

Ha ha.
This may be exactly what happened.

If Esther is anything like me - a google queen - she has found my blog.
Because I found her's. And her myspace page.

Yes, Esther and I have a few things in common.

And now I feel horrible.

I'm not a bad person, Esther. I'm not normally a bitch. Really. I was quick to judge and quick to be mean. And I'm sorry. I should have just come upstairs and nicely explained the situation but I hate confrontation, HATE IT, and the only time I can actually do it is when I'm angry, and then I'm hateful, and well......

Again, I'm sorry.

You've been very quiet this last week and I really appreciate it. As long as the music, the drum and the pillow talk aren't loud too early (before 9am) or too late (after 11pm) I'm one of the nicest neighbors you'll ever have. I even bake cookies for everyone at christmas.

Hope we can be friendly again.

xoxo

PS The distorted pics of you and your friend made me laugh out loud.

No, I Don't Have A Problem

I'm going out to lunch with a friend tomorrow, so I'm already looking at the menu at the thai place to see what I want. I love, love, love thai food.

Preparing a day in advance is bad enough, but I'm also sitting here eating lunch WHILE I'm preparing a day in advance.

Maybe I should think about starting up therapy again....

Weekend Update

Or, Damn It Feels Good To Buy Again!

But that's a little later....

Friday night, I attended movie night at Tbone's. Work was miserable, although I can't pinpoint why, so it was a good night to lounge around and zone out with movie, wine and nice people.

Saturday, it was 80 degrees and blue skies, so Jamie broke out her orange karman ghia!


Ladies a'shoppin!

After two hours at DSW shoes and walking around for twenty minutes in a pair of $90 black, Ralph Lauren heels that looked so fabulous on me Jamie said even SHE would do me, I walked away with only a pair of $25 flip flops. With beading. Because beading is right up there with the whole lacy-undies-isn't-just-for-special-occasions thinking. Apparently.

So we shopped until we were pooped, then I came home. And had a lovely evening with myself. Hitch was on. It's a good chick flick that gets me all optimistic about love and shit.

This morning, I had every intention of going to the U District Street Fair to see a couple of bands, including Thornton Creek, but then Jamie couldn't go and a street fair isn't something you do alone, so I stayed home. And I may have cried for just a second. I've been a smidge lonely the last few days, even with movie night and shopping with Jamie, so when my plan changed and it left me alone for the day, well, it made me sad.

But then I remembered I wanted to go to Goodwill to get some new shorts (because *ahem* mine are all too big) and that spurred me to clean out my closet.

I even got rid of some shoes. Shocking, I know. And yes, my fake leather pants are in that pile Sorry, Shaun. They're just too big now.

So I dropped off two bags of things at Goodwill. And came home with another bag of stuff. It's a revolving door. And even though I went there looking for shorts and little tank tops, I ended up buying two fluffy gray sweaters and a pair of gray cargo pants. Funny, huh? It will be cold again, so it makes sense in my head.

And speaking of gray:

See those gray hairs? It's like they all just sprouted up in the last six months. Baffling.

Where was I? Goodwill!

I also got a couple of red things for the boudoir.

And now we're at Sunday evening. The Simpsons are on the telly, and I'm starting to think about dinner. I should have gone grocery shopping today because the dinner options are limited. Chips with cheese melted over them (a favorite), edamame or goat cheese and crackers. Hmmm, decisions, decisions.

I have lots of soup.
But as you know, I hate soup.

You Know You're A Little Cranky When...

You're surfin' through all of your bookmarked sites and when you click on CuteOverload.com (which you've done 15 times already this afternoon and they just aren't updating the site quick enough for you) you mutter to yourself "If it's still a picture of that damn monkey with the kangaroo, I'm gonna lose it......"

Luckily, I was rewarded with ADORABLE photos of bunnies and kitties and puppies, oh my!

My day just got better.

"Destiny Is A Fickle Bitch"

Oh, amen, Benjamin Linus.
A-freakin'-men.

There's a W H O L E blog post I could write on this quote from Lost last night. But I don't need to, do I? It's pretty self explanatory, and I think everyone can relate.

Just when (you think) you've got it all together, Destiny/the Universe/Fate comes along and says "Oh, really? I don't think so......."

Speaking of Lost, this is just one of the reasons why I'm glued to the TV every Thursday night:

Keamy. 6'4". Manly man. Yum.

Where was I?
Oh yes. Destiny.

QUIT THROWING A WRENCH IN MY PLANS, YA BITCH!

Random Thoughts

The word "bullshit" is in a headline on CNN.com. For some reason, this shocked me. You just don't see that word on official news sites. Kind of like the first time they could say "ass" on a sitcom.

**********

Esther Update:

Esther has not been home for the last two nights. And if she has, she's not letting me know about it. I haven't heard a peep from upstairs. And it's been really nice.

**********

There is quite a battle for a certain parking spot in my lot at work. I've always parked in the same spot, up against a little flower planter area thingy. And then the maroon Honda Element parks next to me. And then red truck parks next to him. We have a system.

Then one day this big, new suburban was parked in my spot. Huh. Does she not know that I park here every morning? She must be new. And she also must arrive before 8am (and before me), because she parks there every morning now. It's screwed up the whole system.

Until last week, a brand new, even bigger suburban started parking there. And the smaller suburban was forced to park back in the corner. Ha! But still! It's my SPOT! Has been for two years!

Well, I got here early yesterday, and I beat them all. As I was getting out of my car, the bigger suburban whipped around and then realized that her spot wasn't open. I smiled at her.

But then I was late again this morning and I was forced to park back on the other side of the Honda Element.

**********

Yes, this is the most exciting thing going on in my life right now. Well, that I can actually blog about. My christ year is already proving to be quite interesting. Times, they are a changin'.

Stay tuned.......

**********

I've started wearing brown and black together. How do we feel about this? I'm undecided.

**********

Facebook annoys me.

I get this message that says "Someone has flirted with you on SpeedDate! Click here to see their message!" Well, of course I want to see who's flirting with me. But you can't see it until you invite 15 of your friends to sign up for this application. I don't want to do that to my friends. I just want to see the damn message!

So screw 'em. I got enough going on without some random weirdo on Facebook contacting me to say "Hey baby..."

**********

My 30 days are up! I CAN SHOP AGAIN!

But I shouldn't. I kind of like having a positive bank balance for a change. Oh, but I must celebrate. Somehow. Hmmm....

I'm thinkin' more undies. Nothing says celebration like lace!

Or nightstands.

**********

My Horoscope for today:

Yahoo:
This is a time to relish your personal freedom -- do something by yourself today.

Yep, all signs point to shopping.
Or a manicure.

I'm all about the signs....

Dear Esther,

WTF?

Things were going just fine since our little talk on Sunday.

Until 2:30 this morning. You and your man jumped out of bed, scurried around your apartment (waking Jessica up as well, who was asleep on the couch) and then proceeded to talk for TWO HOURS. At volumes well above what normal people would use at 2:30 in the morning. Earplugs could not drown out your man as he talked almost non stop, while you two apparently laid in bed. RIGHT ABOVE ME. Oh, he was on a roll about something. I ended up taking my pillow and blanket out into the living room and sleeping on the floor. Although, Jessica told me I should go up to your place and let you have it.

Esther, you have a very hard lesson coming to you. I don't have time to come speak with you tonight, but you can bet your ass tomorrow evening, I will be at your door. And I will send you down to my apartment, to stand in my bedroom, as I leap off of your bed and stomp around so that maybe you will get an inkling of what I deal with. I don't sleep well as it is and it does not help that you wake me up every freakin' night.

I have called the management office and warned them that I will be confronting you, once again, about these issues, in the event that you think I'm being a difficult neighbor. The management office has advised me to be aggressive, yet polite, in remedying this situation. Because once they get involved, it will be messy.

I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, Esther. I'm assuming you just don't know any better because you're used to the dorm life. Well, welcome to the real world, sweetie. I am not your den mother. I'm an adult paying a lot of money for my fantastic apartment and I will not let some twit like you keep me up every night and make me crotchety and bitter.

I look forward to speaking with you soon,

Your downstairs neighbor

My Pouty, Sexy Face

As captured at happy hour Friday night.

Which is very funny, because I was just telling someone about this face, only the story was about when I used it Saturday night at some cutie pies that were making eyes at me and Jamie.

Then I get photos from Friday night and, well I'll be damned, I used it Friday night, too!

"Original" has never been a word to describe me....

Who Knew Pink Towels Could Be An Opportunity To Grow?

It finally happened.
I turned my white bathroom towels pink.
Along with my white kitchen towel and all of my white hair towels.

I got permission from my neighbor to throw a load of laundry in, so I washed the huge pile of towels that's been accumulating for the past three weeks. I did think to pull out the red cloth napkins and the plaid napkins from the picnic backpack, but I thought the other towels were old enough that they wouldn't bleed.

Wrong.

All pink.

So I filled up the bathtub with bleach and water and soaked the two big bath towels, the wash cloths and the hand towel.

And then occurred to me.

I wasn't upset.

A year ago, this situation would have made me snap. I think my stress level was that high and I was that wound up.

Case in point: When I was still with The Ex, I washed (and dried) a load of laundry, completely unaware that that my red lipstick was still in the pocket of my jeans. There was lipstick on everything. And I cracked. Literally. The Ex came upstairs to find me standing in the bedroom, looking at the pile of laundry on the bed and just sobbing and saying the F word over and over. I felt like a failure.

For six years, I was trying so hard to prove that I would be a great wife. I was cooking dinners five nights a week, I was spending all of my spare energy keeping the apartment clean, I was taking care of the bills and going grocery shopping and managing our social calendar.

So when I screwed up a load of laundry, I felt like I disappointed The Ex. And don't get me started on my feelings of inadequacy when I almost burned down the kitchen trying to fry homemade won tons.

The point is, today, in this new life, I am not the least bit concerned about these pink towels. Yes, it bugs me, but I did not cry. I did not cuss. I didn't throw anything. I figure, I'll just go back to JC Penny and buy two more towels and two more wash clothes. Big deal. The bleaching helped tremendously, but they still have a tint. And that's just fine for now. No biggie.

It's funny how these little things that happen now make me realize how unhappy I was for so long. I was so wound up that I cried at laundry. I cried at full trashcans. I cried at having too many social engagements in one week. I cried. A lot.

So what if I turn the towels pink? I'm still going to make a great wife. If anything, I'll be more comic relief than one man can stand.

And if he gets upset at pink towels, well, then maybe I don't want to be with him anyway.

Happy Mother's Day!

I love these.
Some eCards -
"When you care enough to hit send"

Esther Has Been Confronted

And not by nice, pretty Raechelle either.
But by 8am-just-woke-up-against-my-will-seahawks-sweatshirt-didn't-even-brush-my-teeth-or-pick-the-crusties-out-of-my-eyes Raechelle.

Mad Raechelle.

I heard the music at 7:30am. Oh, for cryin' out loud. But I think I can still sleep, so I put in earplugs. They do wonders. Until the djembe starts.

Earplugs cannot help me when the djembe starts.

I, quite loudly, stomp up to Esther's apartment and, quite loudly, knock on her door. The music immediately stops. She says, "Who is it?"

I respond, without the least bit of friendliness in my voice (and you know how difficult that is for me *giggle*), "Your downstairs neighbor."

Esther opens the door, looking like she's going clubbing. Dressed in black from head to toe, high heeled boots on, her black hair, straightened and shiny. And more eye make up than I probably have in my whole arsenal of makeup. Why, is she off to church? I don't think so.

"Do you have djembe?" I ask.

"Oh. Yeah. Can you hear it?"

"Um. Yes. I'm right below you." I remind her.

"I had it on the floor and was just tapping on it."

"Yes, that's how a djembe works. And that would maybe be okay but not at 8am on a Sunday morning."

"And the music....?"

"I can hear it and again, probably okay. But not at 8am on a Sunday morning. How about not before 9am on any morning?"

Esther is now mortified. She has probably never lived in an apartment building in all of her 23 years. I'm thinking she's fresh out of the dorm where no one could hear her djembe over their music and everyone was just going to bed at 8am on a Sunday morning. Seems very likely.

Esther also doesn't have anyone living above her so she's not familiar with the concept of how sound and vibrations travel downward. Being a musician, you would think she would know this.

For the next ten minutes, all was quiet at Esther's. Then, as I began to type, I heard her leave. And literally tip toe down the stairs.

My job here is done.
Hopefully.

**Update**
I went back to bed and slept until 1:30pm. That'll show her!

Cause I'm A Giver.....

I gave out party favors at my birthday brunch-spa extravaganza.

The Presentation-Is-Everything Perfectionist strikes again.

I bought cute little magnets, one for each gal. They were all from the same line. This is the one I got Cyn. Mine says "I don't do perky."

Just wanted to scootch that uber-grrr post down a little bit.

Not A Happy Camper At All

I was supposed to go to CarPros this morning to have a new instrument panel put in. The odometer button is rattling and it drives me insane, especially when I'm already pissed off in traffic. Since it's covered under the warranty, I decided to be high maintenance and do it. So after my oil change a few weeks ago, I made the appointment for 10am this morning. Shoot me.

Except the next day, the rattling stopped. I assumed they inadvertently fixed the problem. I called them, said nevermind. And then the next day, the rattling started up again. I called them, said nevermind about my nevermind, it's rattling again.

Called yesterday to verify my appointment. Make sure we were all on the same page. Yep, there's my appointment. Perfect.

So I drag my ass out of bed at 8am, after not getting to bed until after midnight for the past few nights (I'm a crazy gal, remember?) and after having a few cocktails last night, only to get a phone call at 9:30am AS I'M WALKING OUT THE DOOR. There was some confusion will all the phone calls and well, they don't have the new instrument panel. "But we'll call you when it gets in to set up an appointment."

But. But.....
That's why I called yesterday! To confirm that I had an appointment and that I really did need to be up at 8am on a SATURDAY morning. Yes, some people are just magically up at this hour on a SATURDAY morning, but I AM NOT.

I've very upset.
So upset that I went and bought myself breakfast. Retail therapy. And I toodled around Ballard for a bit.

But now I'm home and I'm bored and I'm just mad again. I could take a nap, but I've already showered and straightened my hair, so if I nap, I'll have to redo my hair because it isn't as pretty after a nap and Jamie and I are going out for the gals' dinner tonight at 6pm and well, now my day is just shot to shit.

Happier post soon.
Promise.

I'm All About The Pearls....

Now I Know What They Meant

I wrote this for mom and dad in May of 2005. There's nothing else of interest going on right now, so I thought I'd share.

Now I know what they meant.
"Life is hard, you're still too young"
Too young to listen,
Too young to know wisdom when I heard it.
So off I went, miles from home,
To play the role of an "adult".
Ah, independence.
My space, my kitchen,
My coffee maker.
Out at midnight,
In a dawn.
Once.
The alone on Friday nights....
And Saturday....
I call home, I want my mama
She laughs, "I'll never say I told you so".
Instead, she mails a check.
Her own way of worrying.
Home on the weekend,
Every weekend now (just to do laundry).
Then back to my home, back to reality.
Back to bills, loud neighbors,
And constant sirens.
The city.
Daddy calls,
"Just to say I love you".
I cry afterwards.
The sicknesses come.
I play mama to myself.
She did it better.
Phoning home every night.
They can't talk right now, they're eating.
My TV dinner sits frozen in front of me.

Now home for good, the lease is up.
Secretly relieved,
Real life and I disagreed.
A twenty year old
Who aches to be a child again.
But missing that year, that year of independence.
Now I know what they meant.

I had a momentary lapse when I walked into my kitchen a few minutes ago.

I was thrown back to 1995, when I lived on Dairy Ashford on the west side of Houston. My first apartment. My brother lived about a mile away, so I still had a safety net of somesort, but it was MY PLACE. I moved in when I was 19. I remember my friend, Bob, coming over and saying, "Wow. It looks like a grown up lives here." I had matching bedroom furniture, a coffee table, a dining table, pictures on the bookshelf and a coordinated bathroom.

Grown.Up.

I had the allusion of being a grown up. But I was 19. I was incomplete.

When the lease was up, I moved back home. Re-grouped. Grew alittle. Met a guy, moved in with said guy....I don't know if I grew during that time. I was too busy partying. Said guy and I broke up, back on my own again. Maybe grew a little.

Then back home for a couple of months, then to Seattle. I think I grew on the way here, but then started partying again, so the growing stopped.

Met The Ex, dated, didn't dated, dated again, he moved in, he moved out, I moved in, we moved together, more partying, the allusion of growing, but really, no. No growing.

Broke up with The Ex, I sleep on this couch, I sleep on that couch, I finally find a home. I plant my feet.

Suddenly, HUGE friggin' growth spurt.

My head hurts.

This growing up stuff is SO much more complicated than I thought it would be.

Another Reason To Hate Raccoons

I was late to work this morning.
And no, it wasn't because of the margaritas last night.

It was because of a raccoon.

I woke up in the middle of the night and my clock beside my bed was blank. Power was off. Huh. Maybe I'm just dreaming.....

I hear Jessica (who uses her cell phone as an alarm) up and about and figure, okay, it's about 6:30am. My clock, however, says something like 2am. I'm very confused.

Go back to sleep.

Awakened by our favorite upstairs neighbor who has apparently gotten permission to install a basketball court in her bedroom. She's musical AND athletic!

I turn on the radio to hear Marty say it's time for the 7:20 funny. So it's 7:20am.

Crap.

All in all, only 20 minutes late. Not as bad as it could have been. Maybe I should actually thank Esther?

Jessica = Superstar

I love having Jessica here.
And it's not just because we party it up every Monday.

I got home from work today and was just in a funk. Blah. I blame PMS. I love my uterus! But after a margarita (okay, two margaritas) and some FANTASTIC mexican food at Senor Moose Cafe (five stars baby, five stars) things ain't too bad. Jessica distracts me from everyday life and makes me laugh at the stupidest stuff. She just will not let me be in a bad mood.

She also yells at me when I head over to the computer to email or grab my phone to text after we've had a couple drinks. She knows that's a bad idea. She's got my back.

"Rae-Rae! Get away from the computer! What are you doing? No, you can email him back tomorrow! Get back on the couch!"

I love just her.
But she laughs at my little ice creams.

What?! Six for a dollar. Portion control.

She's also gotten me hooked on "Gossip Girl" but she tells me I can't blog about it.

Shhhhhh........

(Rather Long) Weekend Update

I have had a shit load of coffee today, but my eyes are still heavy. My mind, however, is flying at 90 miles an hour. Crazy.

This was one of those weekends where I felt a-okay with the world. I felt grounded, loved, happy and thin.

Friday night, we had a going away happy hour for Nichole. She got a new job, about a block from her house. The twit. I'll miss her. Oh, I'll still see her at our monthly gal dinners, when she and her buddies drag me down to Covington or Tacoma just to eat. Only for Nichole. And food.

So, a quick happy hour, then off to my new friend Tbone's for a film - "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid". Which I had never seen before, even though I love, love, love Steve Martin. Since Tbone is a movie dude (in every sense of the word) and his friends are editors, actors, and other fancy movie type people, there was much discussion about the technical stuff. After a half hour of hearing "Wow, the editing is AMAZING" it occured to me that the scenes of the movie were spliced with scenes from old classics.

Quick, aren't I?

So, I fessed up and announced my ignorance about movies - which takes a lot of balls when you're in a room with Professional Movie People. I still haven't seen Casablanca, Gone With The Wind or Star Wars. I've never seen an entire Hitchcock film, except for Psycho. I HAVE seen the Godfather. I think.

Just wait. One of these days, the topic of vacuum cleaners will come up. THEN I'll get to show off.

After the movie, I had to dash because, you know, I'm so popular and cool.
(Just let me dream, okay?)

I headed over to McP's since he'd had a crappy day and needed some entertainment. We walked down to the Reading Gael to play some pool and I discovered, apparently, I don't need five jack-n-cokes to play well. I was kickin' butt for a while. I miss pool.

Slight tangent:
Speaking of pool and jack-n-cokes, I haven't been back to the Lock-n-Keel since the bottom of the barrel night in October. And I'm pretty damn proud of myself. If I'm in a shitty frame of mind and have a couple of glasses of wine in me, I start thinking I should walk down there because I know I'll get attention and feel all pretty. But I've refrained. Now, I just call Shaun. Poor Shaun....

Anywho, where was I?

Oh yes.

Saturday. It was a dreary day here, so Jamie and I met for lunch and lingerie shopping in Fremont. Pretty undies. A new weakness. I didn't buy anything, but when I'm shopping again, look out.

After lunch, I snoozed on the couch and watched Once, again. For the umpteenth time. It never gets old. The scene where they're recording in the studio inspires me. I want to play again.

That evening, the Sheauns and I went to see "Flight of the Red Balloon". McP read some good reviews and had seen the original so I went along, just to be social.

And oh, for the love of puppies....

I'm not a movie snob. Really. I don't know enough about movies to be a snob, as admitted above. I just have my little ol' opinion. But even McP and his roommate were in agreement that this movie was brutal. Imagine someone setting up a video camera in the corner of the living room and just letting it go for hours. The woman takes the bags into the kitchen, she's putting something away (there is no fluffy music), she puts something in the fridge, forgets something on the table in the dining room, so she walks in there.....

Kill. Me.

I kept waiting for something to happen. It felt like there was tension being built, but no. No tension. Just.....blah. Nothing happened.

All the while, there are these random shots of this red balloon that's following the boy around. Well, yippee. Maybe the red balloon will die?! Nope. Just floats around.

And the whole thing made me stressed. The flat was cluttered and filthy. The main character, Juliette Binoche, was scattered and disheveled. She would run her hands through her fried, bleached hair (poor Juliette) and it would just stick straight up. Oh, come on! Yer killin' me!

Shaun, however, loved it. He's an artsy fartsy french film lovin' guy like that. Sometimes I wonder why he's friends with me.

Then comes Sunday.

FREAKIN' BEAUTIFUL! Now, this, THIS, is what the weather is supposed to be like in May! Blue skies, 70 degrees, light breeze. Holy crap.

I cleaned for a while, then walked down to the Ballard farmer's market and met Jamie. And then my mood turned. Way too many people. WAY TOO MANY. And there were just a ton of morons on their cell phones, wandering around like zombies.

I would love to go through life thinking it's all about me. Completely unaware of my surroundings, thinking I am the only one who existed. My life would be so much easier if I didn't have any consideration for anyone else on earth, ya know? But alas! I have been cursed with this damn conscience that makes me AWARE. Ack.

This is the line that I will instill in my children:
Be aware. That's all I ask. Just be aware.

Unlike the line my father instilled in me:
I don't care what you do, just don't inconvince me.

Thanks, dad!

Crap.
Where was I?

Farmer's market. Right.

Since there were so many dipshits at the farmer's market, Jamie and I said "Screw this" and went to Lombardi's for lunch and a drink. And her new "friend" stopped by so I finally got to meet him. Very sweet. Nice dimples. She was all giggly and crap.

No, I'm not bitter. Why?

After a lovely lunch, I sauntered home. Although I was super motivated that morning, my energy level was a bit depleted and I found myself in my sweatshirt (but with shorts instead of my sweatpants!) snoozing on the couch again. I hate it when I do that on pretty days. Sometimes I wish I had a yard. I could piddle in the yard. Throw a blanket down and read. I could have walked down to the Locks and taken advantage of their grass, but I sensed the Locks would be packed (beautiful weather and all) and I just couldn't tolerate anymore people. There were no people in my living room. It was lovely.

And here we are - Happy Margarita Day! Jessica is staying over tonight and when I saw her this morning, I said, "I guess we have to go get margaritas tonight?"

Her response was, "Hell yeah!"

*sigh*

Oh, okay. I will have a margarita.
Sheesh.

Sustenance Vs Beauty

Boy, the Universe doesn't know me at all, does it?

ARIES (March 21-April 19): During the next month you might be more concerned with finances than with your personal appearance. You always want to look your best, but you might find that it takes extra funds to do so properly.

I would forgo food and cocktails if it meant getting a manicure at Habitude. I am CRAVING a manicure. Especially since I've been keeping my nails short in an attempt to play the guitar more often. Habitude makes them so red and pretty.

I didn't used to be this vain. Really.

As my family would say, I'm gettin' above my raisin'.

I Don't Think You Heard Me

I'm not really interested in taking a nap right now.

I had attitude at 20 months.

Do not mess with me.

Well, That Was Fun

I received my stimulus today (hee hee - "received my stimulus"). And I immediately transferred it over to my credit card balance.

Poof!

Gone. Just like that.

No Xbox, no TV, no bedframe... (*sniff*)

I PAID OFF DEBT!!

HA! Take that, George.

Esther Has A Drum

Oh, my neighbor just keeps getting better and better.

I stayed home today. The dizziness that hit last night is over and the headache itself is almost completely gone. I guess 16 hours of sleep is just what the doctor ordered. Well, maybe 14 hours of sleep. Because there was no sleeping this morning.

At about 9:45am I heard Esther's stereo come on. Fine, I thought. Actually, the first thought was "Does she not work? How does she afford rent?" Then she started singing. Still okay. Muted. I can handle it.

Then she started banging on a drum. A djeme from what I can tell. She's pretty strong for a little thing.

Half an hour later I heard one of the other doors slam in the building, someone on the stairs and then magically, the drumming stopped.

And I actually got some sleep.

It's been pretty quiet the rest of the day. So I got some solid hours in. Probably more solid than what I get at night.

But now, time to find food. I have awakened from hibernation and I'm famished. I must be on the mend.