Going Cafe to Cabaret

So, Coadster has been in Europe for a little over a week now. She seems to really love London. She told me that if I ever got out of the US, she thinks I would really love visiting Cambridge.

The Guy joked that when Coadster went to France, she'd fit right in with her surly attitude, but judging from the pic she had taken of herself in front of the Louvre, she might just be a little too dorky for Parisians.

Every Day Is Dreamlike. It Seems Like

The Guy pointing to one of my favorite pieces in the show.

Sooo, The Guy's ex had her BFA art show and it just happened to be located in the building where I work.

The Guy's ex making her braids look like Medusa snakes, next to her self-portrait.

Since my building is only open during business hours, and those just happen to be the same hours both The Guy and our friend, G. work, I asked my boss if I could borrow a key and last night, The Guy, his ex and our friend G. and I all snuck into the building to check out the show.

G. was supposed to be making jazz hands but it looks more like she's getting ready to grapple.

Both G. and The Guy were very happy to be able to see the show.

The Guy's ex playing with one of my co-worker's ruler/magnifying tool.

When we finished looking at art, The Guy said he wanted to see where I worked, so we creeped around the cubicles and The Guy's ex bemoaned the fact that there were candy dishes, but they were all empty.

I Don't Believe In Peter Pan, Frankenstein or Superman

The Guy and I - all bike geared-out.

So, the guy has a bike race tonight. There is a beginner women's race and The Guy asked me if I wanted to try it. I'm definitely interested, but I want to watch it a few times first, because I'm cautious and I hate not knowing what I'm doing in a thing.

I guess my friend Stacy was right when she told me I wasn't the kind of person who could watch people racing and having fun, without wanting to try it myself. Right now, I think my first bike race will be in June. Eek!

And She Speaks Inside a Cloud

Here is some drunk boy I don't know dancing.

Oh, kids. I can't even begin to tell you how nice it was to see the guy smiling and laughing and sitting up and even standing today. It felt like it had been forever since all of our conversations haven't centered around bodily functions, pain control or what he needed help with, and I appreciated the hell out of it.

I called him over my lunch break and he sounded a million times better. He said they got him up and walking and he could sit up and he felt a ton better.

After work, I rode my bike to the hospital and he was having his first "meal" since the surgery. He said it was the best veggie broth and lemonade he'd ever tasted. The guy's mom and our friend Pat were there and a few minutes later, the guy's aunt, uncle and cousin showed up. It's been great being able to meet so many of his family members...Even if it is for such a stressful reason.

I think you'll all appreciate this: Another great tale that highlights just exactly HOW socially challenged I am. When I introduced myself to the guy's uncle, he stuck out his cheek and for some reason, I thought he wanted me to kiss it. So, I did and that's when I finally realized he was really just hard of hearing and he was trying to catch my name. Derrrr. Sometimes it's hard to be me. Hey, nothing like making an impression, right?

The Sound of Silence

Here is a cow that I met on Sunday, warily eyeing me.

So, today turns out to be that day - the day you take your car in and walk to work in the morning on the path that runs by the river. As you pass the Dairy Queen on Riverside, you get a little nostalgic thinking about when your girls were younger and every Saturday afternoon you all went to the pool, then to the Dairy Queen for ice cream cones and then home for a nap in the air conditioning. Since you worked two jobs back then, you usually dozed off with them.

Back at work you get the call from the muffler place. The guy asks you how you are and you say, "I'm not sure. It'll depend on the estimate you give me..."

"Oh. Then I think you'll be doing pretty good then. You had a crack in your tail pipe. So, we can patch it for $48.15 and I should have it done in less than an hour..." You thank him and then extend your lunch break, so you can walk back to the shop, get your car, drive it home and ride your bike back to work. You find your afternoons are a little nicer, after you get some exercise in the middle of the day.

After work you run your 6 mile route and contemplate whether you should take one or two days off of running before your race on Saturday morning, without actually reaching a decision.

When you get home, you plan your evening. There are things to do around the house, but you got most of the gardening done over the weekend and you aren't due to mow the lawn until tomorrow. This is when you decide to make it THAT day - the day when you try out the new reading chair on your porch.

You grab your book and a drink and get all set-up. Ahhh. You think the chair is perfect and you put your dogs up on it and commence to reading sentences like, "Gary struggled to think of something undepressed to say, something reasonably unhostile, but he was rather drunk."

You realize you left your phone in the house. You consider going in and getting it, but then decide against it. Both your girls are safe and busy and you don't really feel like being accessible to anyone else. Then you remember you were going to listen to your iPod and left that in the house as well. You are suddenly aware of how loud it's been this whole time and you hadn't even noticed the dueling buzzings of cicadas and lawn mowers. "How pleasant," you think. What a nostalgic soundtrack of every Midwestern Summer you've ever spent and how odd that you rarely notice it until it stops in the Fall. How like you to focus on the absence of a thing.

The sun finally starts to set and you reenter your house, happy with your decision to make it that day...The day to try out your new reading chair. It was exactly what you needed.

Put It in the Ground Where the Flowers Grow

Here are some railroad tracks from about a year ago. It seems as though I've run out of current pics again.

I was going to try to write a little more on that one exercise I've been working on, but then I rode my bike home from work and then ran another 6 miles (that makes close to 40 miles in the last 6 days. D-U-M) and then I did some more yard work and then hauled my garbage and 15 yard waste bags to the curb and then I had to make Stinky and I BLT's (the most important thing I've done all week) for dinner and then my brain was fried along with the bacon.

So, I think I'll wash some dishes and then give myself a half hour or so to read, and then hit the hay.

Tomorrow I was going to try to go to a talk that my friend S. suggested for me to see, but I don't know if I'll have the time or not. I've been planning on going to see Colm Toibin read next Thursday and I don't know if I'll be able to get away two Thursdays in a row. There are just way too many geeky, literary type things to do in this town and that's just the way I like it.

She Says, We've Got to Hold On to What We Got

My mom when she was a little girl.

Soooo, I'm going to wish anyone who celebrates it, a happy Valentine's Day. Currently, it's a holiday that doesn't really apply to me, so I'll just celebrate the fact that it would have been my mom's 78th birthday. I still can't imagine her old. All I can do is feel lucky that I had her the 10 years I got. She is definitely responsible for my love of literature, my appreciation of music and the outdoors. All of those things that pretty much saved me after she died.

This weekend was very long, but in a good way. Friday off was amazing. I got some stuff done, but most importantly, I got to hang out with the girls for at least a few hours without having to run somewhere or do chores or homework. Originally, we were going to eat at the Bluebird Diner, but it was packed when we got there, and Stinky wanted to make it to a basketball game at 7. So, instead we got take-out sushi at Oyama and Coadster and I watched The Hangover. It actually turned out better than sitting in a busy restaurant.

There was a lot of errand running on Saturday. I took all my recycling in, while Stinky went job hunting. She stopped in at 126 to see if they needed a hostess. My friend Amo was working and was really happy that Stinky wanted to work there. Amo called over the current manager, who said she remembered her from when she was little and I used to pull the girls around in a little red wagon. I'm sure my girls are so tired of hearing that story. But when they were little, it was so much easier to put them in a wagon where they could face each other and wasn't quite so big and unwieldy as a double stroller. Apparently, people found the image of them in the wagon quite charming.

Me covering my face. One of my favorite pics of myself.

Just so you know, you might not want to start reading The Road right before you go out, because you could get so engrossed that you won't want to leave your house. I did end up going out, and I was so glad I did. I guess I was in the mood to get really silly, and that's exactly what I did. We played a lot of goofy music on the juke box and danced around. One of our very flamboyantly gay male friends came down and was WAY over the top.

My friend finally brought her new guy down for us to meet and he seemed really cool. Poor guy. Us girls really put him through the wringer. At one point he asked me if I was the friend that stalked him on Facebook, and both G. and I said at the same time, "We both did."

As usual, right around midnight, I decided it was time to go home, but right before I did, someone said something that was a song lyric, and I started singing that song. Everyone around us started singing it too and suddenly, all kinds of people we didn't know and most of the bar was belting out, "Livin' On a Prayer". It was hilarious. Of course, I knew the night couldn't get any better so I took off.

I Stretched Back and I Hicupped and Looked Back on My Busy Day

Here is another bucolic Iowa shot.

Oh, kids. I'll apologize in advance. This will be one of those, "I'm so busy posts". As if I'm the only person who has ever tried to buy a house as a single parent and still had to work all day and go to all their kids' functions. The whole process is dizzyingly overwhelming, and I have even less time than before, but duh, how great is it that I might actually get a house out of all of this? Pretty fucking great. So, please pardon my spazziness about stupid details, and know that I feel very lucky to be able to have this kind of stress in my life.

Soooo, blah, blah, blah. I did some house hunting related stuff tonight. Whatever it was went pretty well. I promise to give you details once things are solidified one way or the other.

Tomorrow night is senior night for cross-country. It is the first thing where we publicly recognize the fact that our kids won't be here next time this year bugging us for rides home from cross-country practice and to buy them desserts for team dinners. I'm supposed to go at 5:30 and decorate Coadster's locker. I'm making Stinky go with me, so she can show me how all the cool kids' parents do it. I don't want her to be the only kid with horribly embarrassing baby pics plastered all over her door, while all the other runners have signs of encouragement. (Although, I do think it would be funny to put some of those photos up along with the encouraging posters) Then we'll eat and I'll very uncomfortably walk up to the front of the room with Coadster when she gets her letter and probably some kind of certificate. Then I'll finally get to go home and go running. Ahhhh.

But That's Me Stumbling Away. Slowly Learning That Life is Okay

Here I am opening some gifts at my birthday party on Friday night.

So, my four days just flew by. I tried to do everything I was supposed to, but didn't quite get it all done. Of course, I had a great extended weekend anyway.

After running around so much on my actual birthday, I gave myself some time to rest on Friday. It was only like, 68 degrees out and cloudy most of the day. So, Stinky and I took it as a good day to lie around and do a whole lot of nothing. It was heavenly, until it got really late and I was left scrambling around trying to get ready for my party.

I got to the Dublin around 9. My daughters told me it would be poor form to arrive late to my own party. Point taken. My friend Mr. Meister made everyone sing "Happy Birthday" to me when he saw me walking downstairs. Then my girlfriends sat me down and had me open gifts. I had asked people not to give me gifts, but my friends never listen. So, I got an hour and a half Swedish massage, some make up and many beer tokens (you can give them to the bartenders at the Dublin for free beers). Then my friend K. and her boyfriend Adam got me some graphic novels. All perfect gifts for me.

Here I am with two of my best girlfriends and Brando from Circle Jerk at the Square Dance blog.

I got a nice surprise when Brando stopped down. He and his wife used to be my neighbors, and are still currently blogging buddies. They were in town for his wife to teach at the Summer Writing Festival here. I was lame and missed seeing TLB and their lovely baby, but I was promised that they would be back this Fall when hopefully things won't be so crazy.

John in town from Boston and kissing his brother-in-law (for the most part) and my favorite bartender S.

It also happened to be the night before RAGBRAI. If you're not from Iowa, RAGBRAI is basically a week long bike race across Iowa in the middle of Summer. As you can imagine, most of the training for this event isn't cycling, but practicing eating TONS of meat on a stick and drinking all night. There were some fun people in town for that too.

Here is the po po, who just happens to be a friend of D.'s. And there is the owner of the Dublin dorking-out behind them.

My party was a lot of fun. I drank a little, talked some, but mostly dorked-out like a fiend. My favorite bartender played the two songs he likes to call my theme songs. First he plays "Oh Tara" and then he plays "Good Girls Don't" both by The Knack. Everyone else made sure to play fun dance songs too...Just to give me plenty of music to dork-out to. I appreciated all of it.

Take All Worry Out of Your Mind

Well, kids. I only have to work for fours hours tomorrow. Even I can handle that. It will be nice to get away from all the speculation on budget cuts at my job. No one knows for sure what will happen, but everyone really seems to like to obsess over it. Frankly, I'm tired of it. So, tomorrow when I leave work, I plan to turn off that part of my brain that stresses about stupid stuff I can't control...And if that doesn't work, I can always go get drunk. There. Now at least I have a plan.

Other than that, I'm not sure what all I'm doing this weekend. My friend G. and her roommates have invited me over to dinner on Saturday, so they can tell me stories that are too private to tell me in a bar. Judging from the things they normally tell me in bars, I am REALLY excited to hear what they have to say.

Now, I will leave you with a post I wrote on my old blog in November of 2005. Holy shit, that was a long time ago, yo. Its about nicknames we gave to customers at different places I've worked. Read on:

Zira - Planet of the Apes

A few weeks ago I was talking to a friend of mine about a neighbor who I thought was kind of annoying. I never mentioned his name but because this is Iowa City, she figured out who he was and told me that she and her friends used to call him Senor Scratchy Patches because of what she described as "an unfortunately placed skin condition that he felt at liberty to touch". Gross...but that's what makes it funny.

Ever since then I've been thinking about nicknames and remembering monikers that were given to different cutomers at all the various bars and restaurants I've worked. When you wait on people, you don't always remember their names and nicknames really help reference people. Sometimes the monikers are based on their order - like there has been a mocha man at almost every coffee shop I've ever worked at and when I worked at The Mill there was that jesus freak guy we always called the chicken man. Then sometimes the nicknames are just mean and those are usually reserved for customers who are annoying and/or rude and people who don't tip well.

One of my favorites was from when I worked as a bartender at Macy's in San Francisco in 1986. There was a woman who we always called Zira-Planet of the Apes. She was never just plain Zira, it was always the whole, long name. I thought she looked more like a combination of Zira and Ruth Gordon but it would have been way too long to say, Zira-Planet of the Apes-Ruth Gordon. I have no idea what her real name was. She would come in every Monday and be horrible and never tip the waiter but she would put tons of money in the jar for the pianist to play "New York, New York" at least 6 times a night. She always ordered a VERY dry vodka Martini. Which meant she didn't want vermouth. Which meant what she really wanted was vodka with an olive but she was too pretentious to order that. So, instead the waiters would come up to the bar and sing, "Zira-Planet of the Apes" and I would know exactly what to make. It was way more fun than giving me the order the regular way.

But while I was laughing at all the nicknames I've always labeled other people with, I did have to stop and wonder what nicknames people may have for me. It's not like I can stop one of the guys at the Co-op and ask them if they have another name they call me. I'm sure they wouldn't tell me if they did and would I want to know? If it was bad enough, I'd have to start going to the Coralville Co-op and never be dumb enough to ask a question I didn't want to know the answer to again.

But I Hear the Call of a Lifetime Ring

Here is a shop window full of delicious candy canes.

I woke up today to a recorded message telling me school was canceled. I checked outside and wondered why, since it just seemed to be some rain. Then when I actually started walking to work, I finally got it. My world was covered in ice. I was careful to walk in the grass, but driveways and street crossings were particularly treacherous. I had no idea what a lucky break the ice would be for me today.

The girls and I have been trying to figure out when we'd be able to go see our holiday matinee that we've gone to every year for forever. There are always show choir workshops, or basketball games and practice, and there's no way in hell I could afford to actually pay for the three of us to see a movie at full price without dipping into the girls' future therapy fund...And with me as their mom, they'll need every penny I can scrape together for that.

Coadster texted me at work this morning to see if I could take them today, since they wouldn't have practice for anything anyway. Perfect. I took off a half hour early from work so we could get to the 5 o'clock show of Four Christmases. The girls loved it, and all I can really ask for is a movie that the girls love and that I can stand. it definitely had it's funny moments and the usual Vince Vaughn schtick.

When we got out, Coadster said she wanted to go to the rec building and work out with me. I don't run outside when it's icy anymore after that one time when I fell and hit and bruised up my face. It gave my co-workers WAY too much pleasure. One of the office women tried to spaz me out by telling me I had to go to the doctor because I could have bone splinters that would enter my brain. Another guy at work said that I would totally be attractive to abusive guys, since they'd already know I could take a punch. Thanks, co-workers...For nothing. Anyway, it just seems to simplify my life, if I run indoors during the icy times. So, Coadster and I ran and my iPod seemed to love me by playing great running music, like Spoon and Michael Jackson and Buddy Miles and Sufjan Stevens and The Specials. Best of all, there was some guy juggling without stopping or dropping a ball the whole time we were there. God, I love this freaky little town.

So, now I'm home and I'm exhausted, but in the good way. It was so different from my normal Tuesdays. I guess I didn't even realize how much I needed a break from my routine until I got it.

Once I Thought I Saw You In a Crowded Hazy Bar

Good lord, but I'm overwhelmed. I had a great weekend, I'm not saying I didn't. It just kept going and going and going. It was all great stuff, but WAY too social, and at some point today, I shut-down and napped. And everyone knows how much I heart napping. I also think I need to be placed in solitary confinement for a week, just to get over all this manic socializing I've been doing lately.

On Friday afternoon, I met my friend G. for lunch at Mickeys. He was in town from Virginia and I hadn't seen him for way to long. It was a brief lunch, but really nice. He seems happy and is in a great relationship and I'm so glad of all that. After that, I went running and then did something I swear I wouldn't - I went to the big scary maul on black Friday. It was pretty late in the afternoon, so it actually wasn't too bad, and my skin didn't even burn off or anything. Weird.

Here is a picture of some RAWK!

On Saturday, my family all descended on my house and it was loud and we did our early Christmas and ate Chinese take-out for lunch. One of my cousins was coming through town and decided to stop by with his family. It was nice, but man, I need a bigger apartment for when the family converges. Everyone was finally gone by 6'ish. I wanted to take a nap, but I had to start getting ready for the show at the Picador.

This is me and my friends and one guy I didn't know.

I putzed around and took my time, and finally made it to the show around 10. There were so many people in from out of town, and I was pretty socially overwhelmed. I had a great time. Mr. B. actually showed up and we had a good and necessary talk. DJ and her crew were there too, I didn't get to talk to them as much as I wanted. I also didn't get to take pictures of FMDM's band like I promised him I would, and I felt bad about that, but I have a good excuse.

These are my friends on PBR.

That's right. It's called the PBR tallboy. Because I was trying to save money, when I saw my friend Brooke with one of those in her hand, I figured that would be a really, really good idea. Crazy thing was, I was really really wrong. Like tequila, apparently, the PBR tallboy is never a good idea for me. So, after one of those, I was suddenly distracted and my bar ADD was on overdrive. I still had tons of fun and was very happy I made myself leave the house.

Back to today - now do you see why I needed to nap? Sure, I still ran a bunch of errands and drove the girls all over hell, but I didn't run or get groceries or a few other things I normally do on Sunday. I guess that means I'll be hitting the ground running at the beginning of this week for sure.

Weary Memory I Can Always See

So, do I look like someone's psycho ex-girlfriend? Wait. Don't answer that.

Okay, I know I've written a lot about my first boyfriend on here. It's not like I'm not over him or still pining or anything. It's more that he's probably the only healthy'ish relationship I've ever been in and most of my other relationships have been way more depressing to write about. I'm definitely not saying he was perfect, but he was a really good guy, and he put up with all my bullshit (and there was a lot) and even when he was grouchy, he didn't try to tear me down or take it out on me, and those are huge things. Mostly, we went through a lot of crap together from the time we were 19 until we broke-up at 22. Having said that, I would love to know what happened to him and my two best women friends from that time.

Before I went to California, I tried to google all of them, but to no avail. Many of my kind readers suggested I check Facebook, but since I didn't have one at the time, I didn't really get how it worked. Once I did figure it out, I tried, and still didn't find any of the three. I did, however, find Neal's brother on Facebook. Of course, it was the brother I never met while we were dating. He was going to college on the East Coast and our paths never crossed.

I thought about sending him a message, but it felt weird. What would I say? What if Neal thought of me as his psycho ex-girlfriend? Or what if he was married or in a relationship? I certainly wouldn't want anyone in his family to think I was stirring up shit. I hope he is happy in a healthy relationship. So, I left it.

Then, when I was going through some old photos recently, I found a few of Neal's childhood and high school pics that had gotten mixed in with mine. If it were me, I would want those back. It was also the perfect way to contact Neal's brother, hopefully without sounding like a scary stalker lady.

So, last night right before I went to bed, I sent him this:

Hi,

We've never met, but I used to date your brother Neal for a couple of years in the mid-eighties.

After we lost contact, I discovered I had a few of his high school and childhood photos mixed in with mine.

If you think he'd like them, feel free to send me a post office box or address and I'd be happy to send them back his way.

Thanks,

Churlita

And when I got to work this morning, I found this in my inbox:

Thanks Churlita. Neal will be very pleased to hear from you. I'll forward his mailing address soon. I hope all is well w/ you -Neal's brother.

Which I thought was really nice. Who knows if I'll ever hear any more. I'm sure his brother will have to talk to him to see if he thinks of me as his psycho ex or not and wants to give me an address or contact me. I guess we'll see and I'll definitely let you know if I hear from him. Whatever happens, I hope he's happy doing whatever it is he wants to do. It's what I want for all of my best friends - past and present.

Then You Say, Go Slow - I Fall Behind

Tonight is going to be self-esteem night for all y'all. That's right. With the help of Nursula's (I use internet names for folks if I have them) photos, you get to see a bunch of pics of me dancing. All you have to do is view them and you'll feel a hundred million times better about yourself and your own funky fresh moves. The other part is that I'm random again today, so not only will you feel superior about how you dance, you'll feel like you have the longest attention span ever after you finish this post.

I had a couple of conversations about dancing this weekend. The first one happened when I was walking from The Dublin to The Picador and we walked past The Sports Column where people were either drunkenly lurching about or drunkenly grinding into each other. My friend Carrie pointed and laughed and I asked the people I was with to shoot me if I ever danced like that. Then I'm presented with a picture like the one above, and I think maybe someone should have shot me anyway.

On Sunday my daughters were in the living room doing homework and listening to "Dancing Machine" by The Jackson Five. Of course, I had to stop cleaning and start doing The Robot. The first time I ever saw it done, was to "Dancing Machine". Stinky immediately got out the camera. Instead of taking pictures, she videotaped me. "Have you ever seen what you look like when you dance, mom?" She asked. "Because I'm doing this for your own good. Maybe if you can see yourself, you might not think it's such a great idea to keep doing it all the time.

"Yes. I have seen a video of myself, thank you very much. And I've decided it's just easier not to look at videos any more and keep dancing like a dork whenever I want."

"Okay. If you insist. But I may have to put this up on Facebook for everyone to see," Stinky said.

"Really? Because I think you'll find you're only hurting yourself with that one. For one, you're not my friend on Facebook, so none of my friends will be able to see it. And for two, all your friends will see it instead and since they're kind of smart, they'll figure out that you have half my DNA and you just might find them forgetting to invite you to parties and dances." Stinky didn't say anything after that, but the look of horror on her face was precious.

Here I am with my thumbs up tribute to dorkiness. Derrrrrr.

On Sunday it was suddenly cold and crazy windy. My body went right back into hibernation mode and I started thinking about storing all my comfort items. I dug through boxes and found some nice mellow CD's to load into my computer - Iron and Wine, The Shins and Willie Nelson and Emmy Lou Harris' El Teatro were just some of the discs I loaded.

I also cooked up a storm. I made fresh salsa with the last of the garden veggies my neighbors gave me, I baked au gratin potatoes and made some hummus for the girls for an after school snack. I was also going to make some pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting, but I couldn't find the can of pumpkin goo I thought I had. I finally remembered that I used it a couple of weeks ago when I made pumpkin pie. Luckily it's cheap, because now I REALLY want some pumpkin bars...Especially the cream cheese frosting part.

Here's me finally flipping off someone else who's taking a picture of me. How do you like me now?

Coadster had to write a short story for her English class. It was supposed to take place in the future and be scary. So, she wrote this Blair Witch type teen story where some kids got trapped in a cabin in a Summer snowstorm caused by global warming. The cabin was empty except for a TV that they couldn't turn off, that only played campaign ads. I said, "Jeez, Coadster. That is frightening. Do they all end up killing themselves at the end?" I'm pretty sure I would after about five minutes.

Here is our artsy dance sequence. Doesn't it look like we could have easily been dancing to Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time". We're so unusual.

At work today, I was once again quoting old Hee Haw episodes. I'm sure you all know how that goes. It was one of those shows growing up that my parents were pretty much appalled by, but everyone else in my neighborhood just loved. I'm guessing that's why I'm still quoting it at my desk at work in my cubicle in my forties. Either that, or I'm just that big of a freak. (shut-up) After I sang a little of the "She met another..." song, my cubicle neighbor came up with some of his own quotes. I told him I thought it would be so awesome if he would perform a Hee Haw episode where he acted out all the parts - even Barbie Benton's. He said that if he hadn't smoked so much pot in the seventies, he may have been able to remember one. As it was, he could really only recall some Minnie Pearl'isms. Hey, that worked for me.

Trying to interpret this photo is a little tricky. I'm thinking I was trying to get back to my cultural roots by performing my version of the River Dance, and it made my friend sick just to watch it.

Oh yeah. I was tagged to pick the Saturday Scavenger Hunt word this week. What the hell, I think I'm going with Street. Has that been used?

That's All I Have Today, It's All I Have to Say

This week's Saturday Scavenger Hunt word was chosen by Tara at Eclectic Spaghetti. She chose the word, red.

This week, I decided to actually look for fresh photos for the word, so I brought my camera to work, and started hunting. On my way to work I noticed the leaves on this tree were already starting to turn red. Then after I took the photo, I realized that my camera was next to my frozen lunch item in my bag and steamed up the lens when I took it out in the warm humid morning air, producing this softer look.

Here it is even more pronounced. It's so dreamy.

I took my camera around with me at lunch. It was national "talk like a pirate" day and usually, some funky pirate organization is out on the Pentacrest, making pirate hats out of newspaper and, of course, talking like pirates. I really wanted to photograph them, but sadly, they didn't do it this year.

Instead, I took a picture of this guy downtown playing with his red organ right out in public, Ew.

There's Always Something Happening and it's Usually Quite Loud

Well, kids. We're finally back from our travels. It was a great trip, but long and not exactly relaxing. I would have done things a lot differently if I had gone without my girls and if I had had a lot more money, but overall, I'd say we did a hell of a lot for the time and monetary restrictions we had. The post tonight will be a mostly photos and a general overview of the trip. I'll try to go back and recount things on a day to day basis in the next few posts. For now, this is what you get:

I finally got to go back and visit my beloved redwoods. And just to prove how much I love them, here's me hugging a big-ass tree with my overly long monkey arms. My friend K. texted me on my trip to tell me that she learned in yoga class that really long arms were a sign of generosity, so maybe they're not all bad.

While we were in King's Canyon, the girls got to hang-out inside a hollowed-out, downed tree. It's on its side and look how tall it still is.

We even met with my aunt and uncle and cousins and got them to take a photo with all three of us in it. That never happens, because usually one of us has to take the pic.

Oh, and just so you don't think I forgot. I took a cool action shot of a hot surfer guy at Half Moon Bay. You know I'm always looking out for my favorite girly blog readers...And I'm sure you'd do the same for me, right?

Mostly, what we accomplished on this trip, though, was some serious dorking-out. We dorked-out on the beach at Carmel.

We dorked-out at Hyde Pier in San Francisco...

And we dorked-out at the arcade off of Hyde Pier. Here's Stinky beating the arm wrestling machine. Although, I think using both hands might just be cheating.

We didn't even need to, (I think the hats said enough) but we gave it 110% by making the dumbest faces we could muster when we were on Pier 39.

And, finally, we truly out-dorked ourselves by posing with comedians at the wax museum. Seriously, if I had any shame whatsoever, even I would be embarrassed at this display of wanton dorkiness. It's a good thing I don't huh?

July is Dressed Up and Playing Her Tune

This will be quick and random since it's late and I'm still brain dead from this weekend.

Poptart asked for more hoola-hooping photos and I'm always happy to oblige, so here is one of my friend K.

I'm still working out the kinks with my computer. I know now that it's the stupid Windows update that has brought me all that grief. The big problem now, is that I had to turn off my automatic update, or it keeps reinstalling it when I turn off my computer and then I have to continually take my computer back in time to Sunday or Monday before it was installed and it just goes on and on. I did figure out how not to automatically update on my computer, but does that mean I can never install an update if I want internet access, and if so, don't I need the other updates that don't prevent me from getting to the web? Ugh. I just don't know.


Okay, I'm tired of all this computer talk. It's making my head hurt. Instead, let's make fun of me for a minute. First of all, look at how dorky I am when I'm hoola hooping. Secondly, I'll tell you all a little story from Sunday. Wanna hear it? No? Too bad. Here it goes:

Stinky and I were at the store in the frozen food aisle. As I was looking at something in one of the freezers, Stinky walked by and swatted me on the butt with whatever grocery item she had in her hand right then (she's really funny like that). She must have kept walking, because when I looked behind me to see what the hell she was doing, there was only a very professorial looking older gentleman standing there. He had a big smile on his face and said, "Just so you know, that wasn't me." And then we both had a good laugh. Oh, the dorkiness never ends in my world and I always appreciate it.

This kid here was at the festival teasing all the other kids with his dollar on a string trick. That is, until one of the other kids got really annoyed and put his squirt gun up to his head and told the kid to hand the money over. It was so very wrong and funny and not the least bit groovy all at the same time.

Okay, that's all I got. Come back tomorrow when I'm going to try not to be so sleep deprived. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to hold a thought or finish a sentence. Anything's possible, you know.