CHECK IT OUT.

Remember? A long time ago when I said I wanted something new? And then ice caps melted, and then it was a new year and, uh, life happened? I know, I know: it's about damn time.

Go full-screen for the full effect. So what do you think?

Also, after a glass of wine, I've decided it's a good idea to share the aftermath of The Big Spill:

This is one of four different pictures that I took, trying to get one that made my legs look as long and tan as possible. And then I remembered: I have just told you a story about falling on my ass over a dishwasher because I was distracted by the lights and noises coming from a box in the next room. My vanity is clearly not an issue.

It occurred to me at 8 last night that I had volunteered to make a dessert for our boss’ birthday today. During my rush of cleaning up the kitchen, assembling a cake (homemade chocolate sheet cake with homemade chocolate icing with pecans yum yum yum!), and watching Lost, I fell backwards/sideways over my open dishwasher door, and ATE IT. As I laid there, trying not to cry (more from mortification than pain), it occurs to me that I haven’t cleaned under the fridge in a long time, and that if I had broken my leg and had to call an ambulance (J was gone to class), I would be ashamed at how dirty my kitchen floor is.

So now I have a large ugly scrape/bruise directly in the crease behind my right knee. It is quickly breaking me of my bad habit of sitting at my desk with a leg tucked underneath me. I’d post a picture of the damage to further illustrate my clumsiness, but I am also ashamed at how white and prickly my legs are.

So, uh, yeah, Happy Friday Eve!

If you can give me a song that will dislodge "La Isla Bonita" from my brain, where it has been lodged for the past three days, I will kiss you. Or bake you a cake. Or something.

It has been a long and strange day.

I'm at home, sipping a glass of wine, playing Scrabble, and listening to some Rolling Stones.





You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes
You might find
You get what you need

It's gonna be okay.

Manna From Heaven

Chocolate Turtle Chex Mix.

Dude. Awesome.

Congratulations to newly crowned Miss America Katie Stam, who overcame a throat infection and laryngitis to win the coveted title.

Having been so inspired by her tenacity, pancake makeup, and big hair, I would like to announce my self-appointed title of Miss (Mrs.?) Sweatpants 2009. Hooray!



What do you crown yourself?

Woot!

[8:35]
C: Do you feel it in the air?
[8:36]
C: The impending Lost-ness?
[8:37]
Gin: I can feel it!!!1
Gin: It feels like…awesome.

Yesterday, I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time in 3 ½ months.

I’ve been so busy, and that when I DID have the time, my priorities were more to sleep or zone out and play Scrabble. I’d tried to keep up with them, but over time “Keeping them nice and cleaned up” turned into “At least there are still two. Mostly.” Yesterday, after it was done and the technician presented me with a mirror to inspect her work, my reaction was “Holy shit”, and then, to alleviate her fear that she’d screwed something up, “They were pretty bad, huh?”

I also got my haircut last week. Nothing drastic from what I’ve had for a while, though when I asked how much she trimmed off and she answered “almost 3 inches”, I nearly fell out of the chair – I didn’t realize how long my hair had gotten. Now the gross ends are gone, it’s all bouncy and shiny, and I want to walk around in the sunshine, tossing my head and giving a saucy look to…the people gawking at the fact that I’m pretending to be in a shampoo commercial.

So, freshly groomed eyebrows (EYEBROWS EYEBROWS EYEBROWS – damn, that’s hard to type – I keep typing “eyebrowns”) paired with a haircut, and I am a whole new woman. It’s funny how the little things can make such a big difference.

I Resolve:

Not to flippantly toss off "Sure, no problem!", when it, in fact, is a problem. And not just a problem, but a HUGE PAIN IN MY ASS.

About 2 months ago I bought a pair of dress pants that fit great other than being too long. And so they sat in my closet, taunting me with their cuteness and unwearability, until last week when I finally remembered to take them to get hemmed up.

I finally got around to wearing them today and, alas, while they are the right length, they are now a bit too slack in the waist since I, you know, quit eating a few weeks ago. So yay/boo. Oh well, I guess one always needs Fat Pants.

(I am still wearing them today, though, since I didn't have time to iron anything else - I'll just spend the day hitching them up. Cute.)

My brain is totally lazy today.

The crew of folks that I work with are all off participating in a simulation, which means that until 6 o’clock tonight, they are TRAPPED and CAN’T BUG ME. Which is AWESOME. But also doing very little to get me motivated. Also contributing to my slack is the fact that a decision will be made late next week that will determine whether or not the launch date I’m working to will be postponed, which means all the work I’m doing right now could be for naught since it could all change, so why expend any more time and energy when I could be writing pointless blog posts? Meh.

But you didn’t come to read any more work bitching – you came for the porn!

Kidding!

I stopped by Target on the way home yesterday and, like a good little economy-stimulating consumer, spent $50 on crap I really don’t need (except the butter!) to make myself feel better. I picked up the latest Vanity Fair, with Cate Blanchett on the cover (she is so awesome), and interspersed with all the fashion ads was a two-page spread for Big Love, which returns next week. Oh! My! I don’t have HBO, but holy crap do I love this show. I hungrily read the recaps on TWoP, and count the days until a season is released on DVD. I actually have yet to meet someone who watches the show real-time, but if you are rich and have premium cable, I highly recommend that you a) Invite me over on Sunday nights (I can bring snacks!), and b) Watch the show. If you don’t, add the first two seasons to your Netflix queue (though, fair warning, in the first several episodes, there is a LOT of Bill Paxton’s ass.)

Look, Here's A Title, Are You Satisfied?!*

Happy Wednesday



*For C.

I am down to 27 e-mails flagged for follow-up.

DOWN TO.

TWENTY-SEVEN.

Sigh.

I didn't leave the house today.

We went out to hear a band last night, and didn't get in until late, so I'd set my alarm for 9 so I wouldn't sleep the day away. And once again, I woke up with a start before 7, in a cold sweat and anxious. This time I couldn't divert myself out of it, and I had a panic attack - the first I've had in a month, but one of the worst. This was also the first that J has been witness to - before they've all been after he's left for work.

He found me, shaking, crying, hyperventilating, grabbing fistfuls of couch, trying to fight It. And his perfectly logical solution to the situation was, "Just calm down. You worry too much." At which point I totally lost it, started screaming at him to leave me the fuck alone, and I collapsed into a full-blown mess, dry-heaving into a trashcan. Finally after about 30 minutes, I was able to get up, clean myself up, and I collapsed into bed. J rolled over and looked at me with eyes that said I Know I Was Wrong, Please Read My Mind And Understand.

And I told him, "I know this doesn't make sense to you. You don't understand it and it scares you, and you don't know what to do to help. But I need you to understand that this is beyond just having a bad day, a bad week, beyond being caught in a weak moment. This is my brain and my body defying all logic and scaring the fuck out of me. I'm coping the best I know how. Please don't insinuate that I'm just being overdramatic, because I would do ANYTHING to not be this way."

I took my meds, and slept for a little while. I've spent the day in a fog.

I don't know what to do.

Most weekends, I sleep in a bit, wake up, get coffee, and get on the computer. When there is housework and laundry to be done, it's amazing how many diversions I can find on the internet. Why scrub the bathtub when I can spend two hours watching ukelele videos on Youtube? Why vacuum when I can Google old boyfriends and past despised coworkers? Why fold laundry when I can read My So-Called Life recaps? And suddenly it's 7 p.m. and I have nothing to show for the day but a half-loaded dishwasher and a sandwich crumbs in the keyboard.

The good news is that I lived through this past week at work. The bad news is that, despite my best efforts, I still need to go in for a few hours sometime this weekend. I woke up before 7, my brain ticking slowly faster and faster at the thought of having to spend yet another piece of my weekend away from home, alone in a dark, quiet cubicle, in front of a computer, staring at spreadsheets and loading summaries and lines and lines of numbers in 6 point font, away from sweatpants and affectionate kitty cats and the sound of J singing off-key Johnny Cash under his breath as he makes a snack in the kitchen. Fuck.

The grown-up, responsible part of my brain reminds me that the last time I put off working on a weekend, I ended up lying on the floor of my cubicle having a panic attack at 8 o'clock on a Sunday night. The, well, more Me part of my brain says, "Look at those baseboards - so dusty! How long has it been since the Tupperware drawer was organized? Wouldn't it make life so much easier to have the DVDs alphabetized? Don't the batteries need to be replaced in all the smoke detectors?"

And so now it is 9:33 a.m., and I am on my fourth load of laundry. The living room is straightened, the counters are clean, the dishwasher is running, my closet is organized, the clothing sorted by color, fabric weight, and sleeve length. I am waiting for J to get out of bed so I can put fresh linens on.

I don't wanna go.

I keep thinking today is Thursday.
If that could somehow, magically, actually happen, bringing me one step closer to the weekend and oversleeping bliss, that would be AWESOME.

Day 9 of my cold, and I have gone through 5 boxes (and counting!) of 60-tissue-count Puffs Plus Ultra with Lotion. That's 300 tissues. And a lot of snot. And hand sanitizer. So. Over. It.

I caved and left work early today, approved for, and fully intending to, work from home for a few hours this afternoon before my doctor's appointment. But when I got here, the siren call of the couch was too much for me, so I took a nap instead. Delicious.

Calendar Quest 2009 continues - thanks for your suggestions! Your ideas got me looking in the right direction, and I've narrowed it down to a few on Etsy - I just need to get off my ass and go get my credit card. So it may be Spring before I get them, but dammit, I will have cute calendars!

I am looking for some calendars - one for work and 3 for home. I've been perusing Cafepress and Etsy, and haven't really found anything that jumps out at me (read: I got bored after 10 minutes and gave up), except for the YeeHaw stuff, which I always dig. I like stuff that is neat-o and cool, preferably in a really graphic retro style, but I really never know what will strike my fancy.

So help me out here - have you found a style or vendor that you like? Lay it on me, daddio.