The presence of these bugs in my bedroom seems to correlate to my dad
deciding to grow corn. At least that's my theory now that I was in the
garden picking green beans today and came across 10,000 of these green
moflickas.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Flickr isn't being cooperative.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
You've seen this dress before.
Leaving for Joanie's wedding right after we finish watching Family Feud.
Friday, August 27, 2010
I have a new camera.
And this is the first picture I took with it:
We make a cute couple, I know:
And just so you know, that's my parents' guest room. The decor is not of my choosing. The shabby chic meets modern art look is also accompanied by a picture of a matador over the other side of the bed.
And then I took it to Tahoe:
We make a cute couple, I know:
And just so you know, that's my parents' guest room. The decor is not of my choosing. The shabby chic meets modern art look is also accompanied by a picture of a matador over the other side of the bed.
And then I took it to Tahoe:
Thursday, August 26, 2010
The people I know are funny.
Okay, Internet. It's time to talk about things that have made me laugh lately.
In no particular order:
1. Carrie had been unemployed for a long while and ended up moving in with her parents (NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT). Her unemployment lasted long enough that she started telling prospective employers that she'd taken some time off work to "care for her aging parents." This cracked me up because her parents are a KICK IN THE PANTS and surely did not need anyone to "care" for them, but whatever works, right?
So one awesome day when Carrie got a new job I sent her a card congratulating her and telling her that I thought it was really kind of her to take the time to care for her aging parents and what a good person that made her.
Except that because Carrie and I have had the not-so-good fortune of not both being employed at the same time for like two and a half years, the same week she started her new job, I lost mine.
And then a few days later this card came in the mail:
And then I lolled.
Smart ass.
Unfortunately for MY aging parents, I found a job pretty quickly (THIS time!) and was not able to give them all the care they may have needed.
2. Carrie's new job involves working for a pretty conservative bank and suddenly one of the most fashion forward people I know has to wear blazers and simple accessories. Since she just HAPPENS to have her own personal Stella & Dot stylist (AHEM!) I got her a deal on some of the less BLINGIN' S&D bling and when she mailed me a check, it came in another funny-bone-hitting card:
3. Here's another one for you Carrie fans out there:
So what?
A beach chair and umbrella on the beach? Not so funny, even if it does look like a valentine with all that pink and red.
But look closer:
That's a rain umbrella zip-tied to her beach chair.
But sheesh Carrie, that's an ugly ass umbrella. Since when are you buying romantical looking pink umbrellas?
Turns out, it was A FREE GIFT WITH PURCHASE umbrella, which somehow makes it extra funny to me.
I don't know why she didn't have a regular beach umbrella (because I know she has one), but I do know that she's her father's daughter and there's nothing those two can't fix with a zip-tie.
A+ for resourcefulness Carrie!
4. This one features -- gasp -- SOMEONE OTHER THAN CARRIE!
So Walkera and I are going to Joanie's wedding on Saturday. It's in Oregon. I bought our plane tickets and she was going to pay me back.
I got an email from Walkera a week or so later asking me how much she owed me for her "airline ticket."
I replied and asked if we were going to Oregon or to the 1960's.
She laughed and said she must have been channeling her inner Mad Men.
And then she sent me this check:
5. And then speaking of smart aleky smart asses in my life, my SIL-Who-Does-Not-Wear-John-Deere-Pajamas gave me these for my birthday:
So now *I* have suddenly become *her* SIL-Who-DOES-Wear-John-Deere-Pajamas!!!
For those of you considering a John Deere pajama purchase, let me warn you that they make these with a very low rise. I think they're supposed to be sexy in that flannel farmer kind of way.
6. And finally, my mom is another one to crack me up lately. She has just returned from a 9 day road trip with my dad. They flew to Chicago so she could attend a conference and then drove to San Antonio where my dad will stay for another week or so while he attends a couple of Marine reunions.
Each day she was gone, she'd send KOOKY tales-from-the-road emails. This one is my favorite:
Something awful happened to me during my sleep -- I was bitten by a bug, or struck by lightening -- both possible, and I jumped up out of bed this morning and IRONED DAD'S SHIRT!!!!!! My children, forgive me if the mother you knew does not return- tell Sarah it will be me who gets off the plane in blue denim coveralls. Of course, we haven't hit Memphis yet, so I might bejewel the coveralls before I actually get home.
I did shop at Nordstrom in Chicago, but I was feeling the Mid West feeling there because I shopped at Walgreens too- and then stuffed my Nordstrom bag into the Walgreens one. Elizabeth, where has my sense of style gone? I am afraid by the time we hit Tennessee later today I will have a piece of straw in my teeth.
Time for breakfast at Denny's- not quite the same as breakfast at Tiffany's, but do not judge me.
There's another one where she detailed the decline in public restroom cleanliness as they went further south in Mississippi and about how she does not advise eating at a particular Subway outside of New Orleans because if the employees were using that filthy bathroom then there's no hope of getting a clean sandwich.
And one about their visit to Graceland and how Priscilla Presley's wedding dress should be a lesson in picking something too trendy because you never know when your wedding dress will be made into a tourist attraction so it really ought to stand the test of time.
And another one where she and my dad agreed that if he is ever shot and killed, she wouldn't have been the one pulling the trigger because the steps involved: #1, finding a gun, #2 finding the ammunition and #3 hiring someone to shoot him because she wouldn't like the loud bang and besides, because of her arthritis she can't even use a can opener or open a bottle of water by herself so she wouldn't be able to even pull the trigger.
And then sometimes the occasional pictures:
I'm sure she'd like to blame my own flavor of crazy on my dad but I'm not so sure that's accurate.
In no particular order:
1. Carrie had been unemployed for a long while and ended up moving in with her parents (NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT). Her unemployment lasted long enough that she started telling prospective employers that she'd taken some time off work to "care for her aging parents." This cracked me up because her parents are a KICK IN THE PANTS and surely did not need anyone to "care" for them, but whatever works, right?
So one awesome day when Carrie got a new job I sent her a card congratulating her and telling her that I thought it was really kind of her to take the time to care for her aging parents and what a good person that made her.
Except that because Carrie and I have had the not-so-good fortune of not both being employed at the same time for like two and a half years, the same week she started her new job, I lost mine.
And then a few days later this card came in the mail:
And then I lolled.
Smart ass.
Unfortunately for MY aging parents, I found a job pretty quickly (THIS time!) and was not able to give them all the care they may have needed.
2. Carrie's new job involves working for a pretty conservative bank and suddenly one of the most fashion forward people I know has to wear blazers and simple accessories. Since she just HAPPENS to have her own personal Stella & Dot stylist (AHEM!) I got her a deal on some of the less BLINGIN' S&D bling and when she mailed me a check, it came in another funny-bone-hitting card:
3. Here's another one for you Carrie fans out there:
So what?
A beach chair and umbrella on the beach? Not so funny, even if it does look like a valentine with all that pink and red.
But look closer:
That's a rain umbrella zip-tied to her beach chair.
But sheesh Carrie, that's an ugly ass umbrella. Since when are you buying romantical looking pink umbrellas?
Turns out, it was A FREE GIFT WITH PURCHASE umbrella, which somehow makes it extra funny to me.
I don't know why she didn't have a regular beach umbrella (because I know she has one), but I do know that she's her father's daughter and there's nothing those two can't fix with a zip-tie.
A+ for resourcefulness Carrie!
4. This one features -- gasp -- SOMEONE OTHER THAN CARRIE!
So Walkera and I are going to Joanie's wedding on Saturday. It's in Oregon. I bought our plane tickets and she was going to pay me back.
I got an email from Walkera a week or so later asking me how much she owed me for her "airline ticket."
I replied and asked if we were going to Oregon or to the 1960's.
She laughed and said she must have been channeling her inner Mad Men.
And then she sent me this check:
5. And then speaking of smart aleky smart asses in my life, my SIL-Who-Does-Not-Wear-John-Deere-Pajamas gave me these for my birthday:
So now *I* have suddenly become *her* SIL-Who-DOES-Wear-John-Deere-Pajamas!!!
For those of you considering a John Deere pajama purchase, let me warn you that they make these with a very low rise. I think they're supposed to be sexy in that flannel farmer kind of way.
6. And finally, my mom is another one to crack me up lately. She has just returned from a 9 day road trip with my dad. They flew to Chicago so she could attend a conference and then drove to San Antonio where my dad will stay for another week or so while he attends a couple of Marine reunions.
Each day she was gone, she'd send KOOKY tales-from-the-road emails. This one is my favorite:
Something awful happened to me during my sleep -- I was bitten by a bug, or struck by lightening -- both possible, and I jumped up out of bed this morning and IRONED DAD'S SHIRT!!!!!! My children, forgive me if the mother you knew does not return- tell Sarah it will be me who gets off the plane in blue denim coveralls. Of course, we haven't hit Memphis yet, so I might bejewel the coveralls before I actually get home.
I did shop at Nordstrom in Chicago, but I was feeling the Mid West feeling there because I shopped at Walgreens too- and then stuffed my Nordstrom bag into the Walgreens one. Elizabeth, where has my sense of style gone? I am afraid by the time we hit Tennessee later today I will have a piece of straw in my teeth.
Time for breakfast at Denny's- not quite the same as breakfast at Tiffany's, but do not judge me.
There's another one where she detailed the decline in public restroom cleanliness as they went further south in Mississippi and about how she does not advise eating at a particular Subway outside of New Orleans because if the employees were using that filthy bathroom then there's no hope of getting a clean sandwich.
And one about their visit to Graceland and how Priscilla Presley's wedding dress should be a lesson in picking something too trendy because you never know when your wedding dress will be made into a tourist attraction so it really ought to stand the test of time.
And another one where she and my dad agreed that if he is ever shot and killed, she wouldn't have been the one pulling the trigger because the steps involved: #1, finding a gun, #2 finding the ammunition and #3 hiring someone to shoot him because she wouldn't like the loud bang and besides, because of her arthritis she can't even use a can opener or open a bottle of water by herself so she wouldn't be able to even pull the trigger.
And then sometimes the occasional pictures:
I'm sure she'd like to blame my own flavor of crazy on my dad but I'm not so sure that's accurate.
About to dip the baby in chlorine.
Well shoot.
I've sort of lost the ability to talk about the Joe situation gracefully. The words "LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE" keep coming out of my mouth and that's just not flattering.
I was talking to my SIL last night and was like "OMG YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE IT!" and she was like "How could it possibly be worse than the post-it note thing??" and I was like "GIRRRRRRRRRRRRRL, LET.ME.TELL.YOU."
And then when I told her she agreed that yes, as bad as the post-it note thing was, this was worse.
I'm officially off the roller coaster and it feels better than I thought it would but while I'm walking out of the theme park I can't help but take peeks back and wonder how in the hell I had been SO WRONG. How was it possible that we were SO in love and SO confident and SO happy, only for it to fall apart SO spectacularly?
I was doing a Stella & Dot party last night and the hostess and I were chatting while I was setting up and I blurted out that OMG JOE IS A LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE AND I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE IT.
She volunteered that the first time she felt so much confidence about a relationship that eventually ended she asked herself how she could ever REALLY know if the relationship she would have SWORN would last, didn't. How could she ever trust that feeling?
I haven't known this friend for long and she wouldn't have known that this exact thought had been haunting me for months because I'd never really ever verbalized it: I loved him like I never loved anyone else and I felt SO SO SO SO SURE that he was my future but clearly, he's not. How can I ever ever ever ever trust that feeling ever ever ever ever again?
She said that she has since felt that confidence in a few subsequent relationships and that each time, it feels different. Not really different bad or different good...just different.
It's not really an answer to the question because how do I know when it's different in the forever kind of way? But I suppose if that feeling is sustainable by both parties for a long period of time and lives are grown into each other and commitments are made, it just becomes different in the forever kind of way?
I don't know.
I'm STUNNED that our logistical challenges (Seattle, Chicago, San Jose and the distance between them) went away but were immediately replaced with challenges I thought we were immune to (trust, respect and love).
I really want to say that the man he is today isn't the man he really is, he's going through a really rough time, I love him and I want to be supportive, BLAH BLAH BLAH. Except when I was 19 his final words to me were that I'd always be alone. I'm disappointed in him for choosing a similar sentiment this time around.
"Your impossible standards mean you'll end up alone."
So I guess he hasn't changed much in 15 years.
I feel like I should say that he didn't cheat on ME. He cheated on someone else WITH me and lied to me in the process. If my "impossible standards" of love, trust and monogamy are what keep me from ever finding a partner, then so be it.
But whatever. I'm a woman scorned. I'm a dime a dozen. The thing that DISGUSTS me and the thing that is SO UNFORGIVABLE is that my family got pulled into this mess too.
He hugged my parents. He held my nephew (who, I should point out, wouldn't give him the time of day). These are the people who are the most important to me IN THE WORLD and he, by association, played with their emotions too and THIS is the part that breaks my heart and makes me want to use all caps when I say that he is a LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE.
Remember my roller coaster friend? The one who said she'd be waiting for me at the bottom of the ride, holding my purse? Joe told me that he'd tried to warn me and once again, my roller coaster friend has hit the nail on the head:
I have heard the "I tried to warn you" speech MANY times. It goes with the "You don't deserve this" and the "You are too good for me" speech. They come in a boxed set. They apparently give the user the illusion that they are blanket excuses for bad behavior and absolve them from any guilt and responsibility for anything they do.
He made me the happiest I'd ever been, but also the saddest I'd ever been. I am pleased to report that I am currently feeling very indifferent, with a side of relief and optimism.
So there you go. A not particularly gracious update, but at least I only called him a LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE a few times. And the next time I see my nephew, I will dip him in chlorine to wash the Joe off of him and then I'll kiss him 1,000 times and thank him for being on Team Elizabeth.
I've sort of lost the ability to talk about the Joe situation gracefully. The words "LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE" keep coming out of my mouth and that's just not flattering.
I was talking to my SIL last night and was like "OMG YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE IT!" and she was like "How could it possibly be worse than the post-it note thing??" and I was like "GIRRRRRRRRRRRRRL, LET.ME.TELL.YOU."
And then when I told her she agreed that yes, as bad as the post-it note thing was, this was worse.
I'm officially off the roller coaster and it feels better than I thought it would but while I'm walking out of the theme park I can't help but take peeks back and wonder how in the hell I had been SO WRONG. How was it possible that we were SO in love and SO confident and SO happy, only for it to fall apart SO spectacularly?
I was doing a Stella & Dot party last night and the hostess and I were chatting while I was setting up and I blurted out that OMG JOE IS A LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE AND I REALLY CAN'T BELIEVE IT.
She volunteered that the first time she felt so much confidence about a relationship that eventually ended she asked herself how she could ever REALLY know if the relationship she would have SWORN would last, didn't. How could she ever trust that feeling?
I haven't known this friend for long and she wouldn't have known that this exact thought had been haunting me for months because I'd never really ever verbalized it: I loved him like I never loved anyone else and I felt SO SO SO SO SURE that he was my future but clearly, he's not. How can I ever ever ever ever trust that feeling ever ever ever ever again?
She said that she has since felt that confidence in a few subsequent relationships and that each time, it feels different. Not really different bad or different good...just different.
It's not really an answer to the question because how do I know when it's different in the forever kind of way? But I suppose if that feeling is sustainable by both parties for a long period of time and lives are grown into each other and commitments are made, it just becomes different in the forever kind of way?
I don't know.
I'm STUNNED that our logistical challenges (Seattle, Chicago, San Jose and the distance between them) went away but were immediately replaced with challenges I thought we were immune to (trust, respect and love).
I really want to say that the man he is today isn't the man he really is, he's going through a really rough time, I love him and I want to be supportive, BLAH BLAH BLAH. Except when I was 19 his final words to me were that I'd always be alone. I'm disappointed in him for choosing a similar sentiment this time around.
"Your impossible standards mean you'll end up alone."
So I guess he hasn't changed much in 15 years.
I feel like I should say that he didn't cheat on ME. He cheated on someone else WITH me and lied to me in the process. If my "impossible standards" of love, trust and monogamy are what keep me from ever finding a partner, then so be it.
But whatever. I'm a woman scorned. I'm a dime a dozen. The thing that DISGUSTS me and the thing that is SO UNFORGIVABLE is that my family got pulled into this mess too.
He hugged my parents. He held my nephew (who, I should point out, wouldn't give him the time of day). These are the people who are the most important to me IN THE WORLD and he, by association, played with their emotions too and THIS is the part that breaks my heart and makes me want to use all caps when I say that he is a LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE.
Remember my roller coaster friend? The one who said she'd be waiting for me at the bottom of the ride, holding my purse? Joe told me that he'd tried to warn me and once again, my roller coaster friend has hit the nail on the head:
I have heard the "I tried to warn you" speech MANY times. It goes with the "You don't deserve this" and the "You are too good for me" speech. They come in a boxed set. They apparently give the user the illusion that they are blanket excuses for bad behavior and absolve them from any guilt and responsibility for anything they do.
He made me the happiest I'd ever been, but also the saddest I'd ever been. I am pleased to report that I am currently feeling very indifferent, with a side of relief and optimism.
So there you go. A not particularly gracious update, but at least I only called him a LYING, CHEATING ASSHOLE a few times. And the next time I see my nephew, I will dip him in chlorine to wash the Joe off of him and then I'll kiss him 1,000 times and thank him for being on Team Elizabeth.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
That 94 makes me glad I don't live in SF anymore.
Because nothing is air conditioned and the buses suck extra and my apartment gets afternoon sun, which is code for OMG SO HOT!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
OMG YOU GUYS
I just spent 10 minutes trying to take a picture of the crusted over
sore on my ass that exists as a result of the big, blue bug that was
biting my butt on Sunday (I kept thinking I was sitting on a towel
crease or something so I'd
readjust and then feel it again and so on and so forth). So I was
trying to take a picture of my left cheek so I
could zoom in and crop out the booty but the ol' ass just ain't what
it used to be (or maybe it never was) and I couldn't take a picture
that wasn't horrifying, so no big, blue, butt-gnawing bug photos for
you!
You're welcome.
But anyway, this one made me laugh because it was like he was peeking
around the corner at my butt so I cropped out anything damning and now
you're left with Mike.
Wah wah wah, my life is soooooo hard.
I had high hopes for my silent journey.
TOO high hopes, it seems.
I thought I'd finally get to escape from all the crap that has been swirling around me for months, I'd find peace and I'd come home feeling renewed.
None of that happened. The opposite happened, actually.
I didn't have any distractions so all I could do was focus on how confused I was about everything and the tiny, perfect resort I was holed up in somehow became a prison.
That sounds SO cliche, I know, and I want to punch myself in the face for feeling all these things I think are weak and melodramatic when others experience them...but there I was, driving around Palm Springs in my rental car, hoping for something better but having to pull over so I could have my crying fit without risk of crashing the Hyundai.
I am a champion at feeling sorry for myself on my birthday. This year was just amplified. And then squared.
I did actually try to come home on Saturday and just eat the cost of the plane ticket, last night at the hotel and last day of services at the spa. It would only cost me $100 extra to return the car in San Francisco so LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, HYUNDAI! Except the reasonable me eventually woke up and realized that it was too late in the day to start a 450 mile trip and that I'd be regretting my decision sometime around 10PM that night when I was still 200 miles from home.
So here's what I did:
1. I picked up a pizza.
2. I bought a bottle of wine and some cookies.
3. And then I ate them, which was kind of the opposite of the "I really don't care if I ever eat again" plan that I've been on in recent weeks.
My alternate plan was to take a shower and then take myself to a fancy birthday dinner somewhere in Palm Springs but decided that I'd rather spend $25 on my Pizza Hut, cheap wine and store brand cookie feast than $75 on a chic solo dinner when I knew I'd finish either one and feel the same.
(Proof of my financial responsibility, yo!)
4. So whatever. I made the best of it and met a lady in the hot tub who was excited about getting a floor model couch from Restoration Hardware for 60% off and another lady with dreds and tattoos who told me that she met her husband at Carrow's but that he hates it when she tells people that.
5. And then I did a few laps in the pool and thought about how lucky I was to be floating around in the desert, looking at 50,000 stars.
And then I went to bed and when I woke up, my birthday was over.
Blah blah blah. I woke up the next day, did some more floating around in the mineral water, found a really big, blue bug hiding in my bathing suit and treating my left butt cheek like a buffet (and leaving a painful and now itchy hole in my skin), had a massage (which I decided would be my last...I'm not a huge fan anyway but it occurs to me that I don't like taking my shoes and my belt off at the airport because I don't like the unwelcome intimacy with strangers, so why would I take off my clothes and let some lady who doesn't give a crap about me rub my back?) and then headed home.
All in all, silent journey: FAIL!
TOO high hopes, it seems.
I thought I'd finally get to escape from all the crap that has been swirling around me for months, I'd find peace and I'd come home feeling renewed.
None of that happened. The opposite happened, actually.
I didn't have any distractions so all I could do was focus on how confused I was about everything and the tiny, perfect resort I was holed up in somehow became a prison.
That sounds SO cliche, I know, and I want to punch myself in the face for feeling all these things I think are weak and melodramatic when others experience them...but there I was, driving around Palm Springs in my rental car, hoping for something better but having to pull over so I could have my crying fit without risk of crashing the Hyundai.
I am a champion at feeling sorry for myself on my birthday. This year was just amplified. And then squared.
I did actually try to come home on Saturday and just eat the cost of the plane ticket, last night at the hotel and last day of services at the spa. It would only cost me $100 extra to return the car in San Francisco so LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, HYUNDAI! Except the reasonable me eventually woke up and realized that it was too late in the day to start a 450 mile trip and that I'd be regretting my decision sometime around 10PM that night when I was still 200 miles from home.
So here's what I did:
1. I picked up a pizza.
2. I bought a bottle of wine and some cookies.
3. And then I ate them, which was kind of the opposite of the "I really don't care if I ever eat again" plan that I've been on in recent weeks.
My alternate plan was to take a shower and then take myself to a fancy birthday dinner somewhere in Palm Springs but decided that I'd rather spend $25 on my Pizza Hut, cheap wine and store brand cookie feast than $75 on a chic solo dinner when I knew I'd finish either one and feel the same.
(Proof of my financial responsibility, yo!)
4. So whatever. I made the best of it and met a lady in the hot tub who was excited about getting a floor model couch from Restoration Hardware for 60% off and another lady with dreds and tattoos who told me that she met her husband at Carrow's but that he hates it when she tells people that.
5. And then I did a few laps in the pool and thought about how lucky I was to be floating around in the desert, looking at 50,000 stars.
And then I went to bed and when I woke up, my birthday was over.
Blah blah blah. I woke up the next day, did some more floating around in the mineral water, found a really big, blue bug hiding in my bathing suit and treating my left butt cheek like a buffet (and leaving a painful and now itchy hole in my skin), had a massage (which I decided would be my last...I'm not a huge fan anyway but it occurs to me that I don't like taking my shoes and my belt off at the airport because I don't like the unwelcome intimacy with strangers, so why would I take off my clothes and let some lady who doesn't give a crap about me rub my back?) and then headed home.
All in all, silent journey: FAIL!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
BPPOTD with Jim
This dog knows that I have minimal patience for his puppy antics yet
he insists on following me around like I'm his BFF. He's sweet, but
I'd like him a lot more if he didn't pee all over my feet so often.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
I just had to give the TSA some fancy lotion I bought at the spa.
I just had to give the TSA some fancy lotion I bought at the spa., originally uploaded by dumpstar_drummer.
Grumble, grumble. And then this dress got me patted down. She was very
concerned about what I might have strapped to my ankles (possibly more
illicit rosemary lotion??) and it really would have been easier for me
to pull my dress up.
I happened to read a Yelp review that commented on the TSA at this
airport and how serious they are and boy howdy, that reviewer wasn't
kidding.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Wheelchair Access
This particular pool was built in the 50's when people in wheelchairs
would come spend a few months here, hoping to benefit from the hot
mineral water that's found in this tiny chunk of the world. My
exfoliator said that they have old-timey pictures of abandoned wheel
chairs along the side of the road...that people with crippling
arthritis were healed.
I'm not sure what's broken in me, but I hope the minerals are doing
their thang.
Alright, well...
...my silent journey kinda sucks. I'm sad and lonely and bored and the
only thing that's good about today is finding a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf.
I am in public in a soggy bathing suit and no mascara.
I just want to go home. 27 hours left.
Friday, August 13, 2010
BRING IT ON, DESERT!
About to go for my first dip in the mineral pool.
And did I mention? The AC has been off all day. Mother Nature is
giving me a warm hug.
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