The countdown to meeting the Godson of Love is down to the final days and I’m very excited! Duty’s birthday is Friday and he holds out hope that they will be able to share that day. (And I ask you, how sweet would that be? Of course, this from a man who refuses to admit he has a birthday so that’s kind of … interesting.) You know I will be there the minute we get the news because next to my undying love for David Cook and Hal Sparks comes baby-holding and not just ANY baby but MY baby! hehe (I like to leave the hard work to others and I get the fun parts. That’s what being an Auntie is all about!)
In other news, my hair has been cut and colored and is back a wee bit to its natural shade. I know I won’t be able to go back to my formerly raven tresses but a darker brown than I had makes me feel like myself again. Very nice. And, I resumed my treadmilling as I said I would – going Monday and today. Skipped Tuesday for hair fun but will make up for it on a weekend day. I’m still not sure if I will do the 5k walk or just lurk about for sightings of boyfriend.
Speaking of which, he was sent to Africa (along with guitarist Neal) as part of the United Nations Foundation. He sent back a few pics and this one is especially cute. (He’s got that damn hat on again. Don’t say anything. I know.)
I love him muchly.
Congratulate me, peeps. I made it to the gym and did 30 minutes on the treadmill 4 out of 5 days this week. It would have been a perfect 5 but there was that issue of the forgotten sneakers on Tuesday. Still, I went (even if it just involved floaties) and I’m pleased with myself. Of course, I managed to make it all a moot point because I’ve been snarfing like there’s no tomorrow. Oh well. Soon enough I will figure out what my major deal is and get on track.
Off to watch Hal on Rachel Maddow’s show. Gal, maybe she’ll let him talk a little longer than Joy Behar did! Oh, and Jody, look for a post on PI this very weekend! Thank you for being interested! (HUGS YOU and can’t wait to hear about your upcoming adventure!)
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Quick post before work – have made it to the gym all three days this week! Woot! However, I did forget my sneakers on Tuesday and it’s hard to do the treadmill in heels so I just floated in the pool. During that float/meditation time, my guides were kind enough to share a blog idea with me so I’ve got something rolling around in my head for posting over on Practically Intuitive soon.
Still trying to decide if I truly am going to “drag my ass for hope” this year. Easier to just go and watch for random spyings of Cookie but how lame is that, right? (I suck, I know.)
Hal is hosting the Steph show all week and he’s doing a great job. Wish I could watch him on the livestream cam from work but don’t want to be blaring political stuff at the front desk out of respect for others. I know I wouldn’t appreciate Rushbo or someone of that ilk being blared near me even for a hour a day so I am aiming to be respectful. Speaking of which, what the hell is going on with those idiots getting themselves all riled up over a health insurance bill? I’ve been saying for many, many months (not necessarily on here, though) that it’s all racially motivated. And that just becomes clearer by the day. Damn, y’all. Pull it together. Life will not end because a black man is president. Your rights aren’t being stolen out from under you – even though they were under the previous administration and of course you said NOTHING. Ugh. Wake up for pity sake before someone gets killed and we ALL have to pay a price for your stupidity.
/rant
Byeeee for now from Snarkistan, USA
So, I thought it would be a nifty change to get my nails done up in a very different color than I normally do (red). Why not go totally to the opposite end of the spectrum and just be wild? Â Yeah. Â I’m not the kind to wear wild colors, it seems. Â Or else, I’m too old for this color. (I feel like a dork.)
Oh well, I tried. Â :-)
Happy almost Friday!
How do I know this? Because I AM CLEANING. Yes, friends. It has come to this. This weather has driven me to the brink of insanity and I’ve read, blogged, surfed, shopped and watched some bad movies. There is nothing left to do but clean. I can’t even believe I am saying that.
Family members are now coming out of a state of shock, I know it. I have a (deserved) reputation for abhoring all manner of cleaning and only do it when I am expecting people to come over (and then I do it half-ass). I’d like to blame it on my mother and her crap example of being domestic and I’d do so with some impunity since she’d not around to argue with me but I just can’t. She worked her ass off taking care of me and my invalid (blind and then double amputee) dad all while working a full time job. So, she gets a monster pass and I have to own this one myself.
I am at home in clutter (although I am becoming less tolerant of it as I grow older) and don’t feel compelled to have a sparkling house all the time. Never has been a priority. Which is sad, I suppose. In my fantasy life (the one where I share in carnal pleasures with Cookie and Sparkela*) I love cleaning, am thin, tall, intelligent and full of joy all the time. (And insane but quietly so.)
Nope, I’ll never be someone who enjoys cleaning. I’d rather work overtime and pay someone to come do this for me. I suspect it has something to do with my challenge of living in this dense third dimension. Perhaps if I did it more, I’d become more grounded. Good hypothesis – wonder if our scientists will carry out some research.
Okay, back to cleaning the kitchen. I’m rocking the tunes (which helps immensely) so it’s not too bad. Currently playing on the iPod of love and cleaning: “Working day and night” – MJ. Great song. Always gets me moving.
Happy Monday!
(*tm by The Gal Herself)
As I was laying on the chiropractor’s padded bench, all I could think of was this Eddie routine. (Officially starts at 1:35 in but watch the first minute or so … pure Eddie)
(If you don’t want to watch it (and if you don’t, what is wrong with you) here’s the transcript to just that one section)
So I had to go see a chiropractor in New York, … And they crack your bones, that’s what they do, they crack your bones! And they take x-rays, but it’s pointless, because whatever is wrong with you… “You’ve got a bad back, I’m gonna crack your bones.†“You’ve got diphtheria, I’m gonna crack your bones.†“Your head’s come off! I’m gonna crack your bones.†“It looks like your mother! I’m going to crack your bones.”
So yeah … he cracked my bones and it felt GOOOOOOD. I have been to a chiropractor before but he did something totally different that felt like I was being ironed. It felt good but this was definitely different. After all kinds of tests and whatnot, he began with my neck and head and … well, cracked my bones! For whatever reason, I started giggling and then broke into laughter. I managed to stifle it as he continued pulling my leg (literally) and then leaned on me in some weird way. And yes, I paid him to do this for me.
Amazingly (to me), when I left, I felt ‘clear’ – that’s really the only word that described it. I know there’s more to do but that was a good start. And! I went to the gym both last night and tonight! Woo Hoo!
Gal, since you asked, I will post about my manifesting process over the weekend. I’ve got two eps of True Blood Season 1 left and I’m anxious to get watching it. It deserves its own post anyway. This leaving early crap gets in the way of my blogging and emailing. It’s quiet at work from 8:30-10 usually but limited net access is a drag. (At least I have net access, though. They only limit the fun stuff! hehe)
Dave Report Number 389
… Wherein I lose what’s left of my sanity and go to a concert almost four hours away on a school night.
An open letter to my (apparently not-so-sekrit) boyfriend:
Dear Dave,
I love you. I really do. You’re talented, humorous in a dorky sort of way that appeals to me, look awfully nice in those pants tailored to fit your every, uh, feature and for a guy, you’re real pretty. Truth be told, I’d listen to you recite the alphabet and probably pay good money to do so.
This love has caused me to do some bizarre things. To wit:
** Standing in a crowd of Idol maniacs for three hours in the August Washington heat and humidity just to get a glimpse of you? (Bonus: stuttering in front of you and feeling like a big idiot.) Awesome!
**General Admission concerts which included a beach in VA and a University in Towson – wait times approx 3-4 hours each place. Hells yeah!
**State Fair in Delaware where I was surrounded by very bad food offerings (fried candy bars?) and accompanied by a sister-in-law with ace photo skills but a dead camera battery. Fantabulous!
**Walking a 5k in the pouring rain on a Sunday morning and then standing in said rain for another hour afterwards just to see you speak? I. am so there.
And now I can add this:
Spending many hours jammed in a mini-van with six other women (Dave fans all) driving to a far away locale to see you perform for 90 minutes. And then driving home again to arrive at my final destination around 1:30am.
Only for you, dearest Dave, would I brave chaos, noise, confusion and paying for two seats instead of one. (I don’t quite know how this happened but it seems that it did.) In return I got homemade biscotti, intelligent conversation about all things DC related, a chance to see Charlottesville again and a reason to leave work early today. Oh yeah, and, of course, an awesome show. Live “Man in the Box†was spectacular as was acapella “Lie†and my personal pony “Straight Aheadâ€. Only your loving and dedicated fans would welcome (nay encourage!) your blatherings about grilled cheese with chili, calamari and, oh by the way, did you have french fries too?
I’ve come full circle from my first show literally standing at your feet in Towson to my last for this year standing at your feet (but a bit more on the right). For my trouble I caught one of your guitar picks (okay, I didn’t but the chick who did gave it to me) and was present at what the kids nowadays call an “Epic!!” show. So so so glad I decided to go.
So Dave, my not-so-sekrit boyfriend, whether you are wearing that fucking hat, shirts that show off the arm porn, jeans hinting at fanbase issues or a suit because you just got back from Capitol Hill, you are still our dorky Dave. Don’t go changing, k?
Faithfully yours,
Lisa
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