Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Wack-a-doo Wednesday

It's 3:15 p.m. on Wednesday, March 23. I am waiting on a phone call for a job interview. I am truly a longshot, but hells bells, if they want to do a second interview, you got it. It'd be running Community Relations for the state of Alabama for BP/Gulf Coast Restoration Organization. I applied in January, when my future wasn't looking too bright. Now I need some shades.

My interview is with that one lady from the commercials. As a PR person, I'm humbled to be considered, but on the other hand, I'd love to take her aside and soak in her knowledge.

I've also spent the day with my Nanny learning more about her in-home care that is going to be needed. It has been a long-ass three weeks since she went into the hospital and then broke her ankle. Fortunately my mom is coming home tonight, so she can relieve me of my duties.

I've learned two things during this process. 1. I want to die at an old, healthy age. I know when God says, "You're done, pack up, let's go..." it's time. But I never want to be in the care of someone else. I really should have reproduced when I was young. But now since I shouldn't have kids, I won't have anyone to care for me. That's fine. I'll deal. 2. I am not cut out to deal with the ill. I've wanted to yell either "Get over it" or "Bless your heart" so many times. My patience is very thin. I'm slow to boil, but when I do ...step the heck back.

I also spent time with my 7-year-old cousin today. We were practicing writing. Riley and I look so much alike she could be passed off as my child. She would list out things for me to "fill in the blanks": food, animals, color, day, drink, etc. I continued to put vodka in the drink section. I know she can't read the word, but I'm not going to lie to her. She never asked.

My mom arrives from Africa in an hour's time.

That's all for now - off to answer the phone when it rings.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Don't Judge Me

First off, please let me say two things:

Don’t judge me.
Everyone is fine.

Saturday was quite an interesting day; interesting in the fact that I did nothing, for once. However, with three weeks to the wedding and pale skin, I decided it was time to sign up for some tanning. Fake and Bake, here I am.

After spending time with Nanny, who had nothing to “allow” because she was too busy stuffing KFC into her face, I headed to the local franchise of a national tanning place. The Size 0 clerk assured me I’d be tan in no time. Hot diggidy!

After that I got home, put my purse on the floor and went about my Saturday night routine: drink, pajamas, couch. I heard some scuffling in the kitchen but had not enough energy to care. Awhile later, Poncho comes to me, pounces up on the couch and falls over, dead like. “Oh, sweet boy, just wants to love on his momma.” He wedges himself into this nook between me and the couch, his head perched on my lap. He stays like this a bit longer than usual. I get up, get more wine and he’s moved to the foot of the couch as I return. I scoop up his body, and he’s completely limp. “Oh, sweet boy, you’re so tired!” I put him in on my bed and love on him for a bit. He’s pretty motionless, just his eyes are open and they’re fixated on me. “Something isn’t right,” I think. I know my dogs and know when something isn’t right. I go check on Jake. Sure enough he’s just as lethargic. By now it’s close to 10:30 p.m. I start the going to bed process. Again, I lay down next to Poncho and caress the side of his head. Again, he’s motionless except for the subtle movement of his breath filling and leaving his tiny lungs; his eyes roll toward me and away, gazing into the distance.

The next morning I wake up only to realize something is missing from my purse: my new fake and bake lotion. Those damn dogs. I head outside and get the lotion … only to pass a chewed up prescription bottle, with plastic capsules opened and clearly sampled.

The dogs ate my prozac.

No flippin’ wonder that they were so chilled out. I have no idea how many they ate, but at least two of the capsules were opened. Oh, I felt awful. They also sampled some gum, which they LOVE. These are things that can KILL dogs. I first thanked God for keeping them alive, cursed myself for leaving my purse on the ground, and then chuckled at them for their chilled moods.

They are fine. The next morning, they braved a five-mile trail run that was extremely hilly. The pills are put up and the purse will not be left on the floor again. And the dogs will never again have that kind of high.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Random Tidbits

What the What? I often find myself quoting 30 Rock. Unfortunately the listeners don’t always appreciate it and perhaps get offended when I say things like, “I love it so much I want to take it behind a middle school and get it pregnant.” We all know I steer clear of middle schools and can’t get anything pregnant. I love Tracy Morgan in this show. He's his own version of crazy.

Owned. I am owned by many things right now. Here is a brief list:
Casseroles - homemade
The Fresh Market's Rotisserie Chicken Salad
Cylindrical Meat (always)
Arrested Development
The Song "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele
The Song "Colder Weather" by Zac Brown Band
Zebra Print Shoes
My Favorite Bartender Vince
My Fitness Partner Shawn
The parking guidelines at HealthSouth on Governor's Drive
Pink Taffeta dresses
Morning Running

The other day I came home and my GOD the dogs were excited to see me. I'd only been gone a few hours, but they really missed me. I was overjoyed at their expression of love: hopping, twisting, fighting for my attention, and sitting at attention. Then. I saw why they were so happy. They'd worked their way through an energy powerbar. These dogs can stomach anything. They have devoured trail mix, chocolate bars, drink powder (crystal light), and more...packs of gum, boxes of triscuits...yes. It's all true. You'd think I'd become more cautious about what I leave out ... but I just forget and am always impressed with their digestive resolve.

I really like working at a manufacturing plant. I never thought I'd say that. This morning at coffee with one of my favorite husbands, I found myself gushing over my job. It's just contract work and will be done in a few months time, but here's what rocks:
I get to wear jeans - every day
Open-toed shoes are frowned upon
My office is made of cinderblocks - no sound gets in or out
My project team who taught me so much about CCTV, SDAs, SES, LOPCs, etc.
I'm learning a whole new language
It's interesting work, and I can wear jeans.

Now - none of my clothes fit right now. I've gotten so much smaller that everything is falling off me. The "crotch" of the pants I wore today was about six inches below where it should be. I went shopping this weekend and had no luck finding anything I wanted. Instead I bought shoes and sunglasses. I scooped up the glasses in a hurry. I didn't realize they have a pattern with a snake. I don't wear patterns and loathe snakes. I'm going to have to paint them or never look at myself while wearing them. Well. If you know anything about me, you know I love looking at myself in the mirror. Always have. My family knows that if we go to a restaurant where there is a mirror, I can't sit facing it, otherwise I'll be fully engaged with my reflection the entire time. I remember spending countless hours in bathrooms looking at myself, posing, and making faces.

Tonight, my cousin Anna and I braved a class at the gym. The mirror wasn't friendly. I had to stop looking at her because I was so obsessed with laughing at myself. I was a disaster, always a few steps behind or facing the wrong way. Nonetheless, we survived the whole thing and I look forward to our next adventure in kickboxing. I'm just lucky that she'll spend time with me - she's way younger and tons cooler. I love her endlessly and admire her more than I can say. Anna WEE!

I'm not going to touch on the crisis in Japan other than saying this: we are all so lucky. Say your prayers of thanks tonight.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

It's Been A Long Time

Greetings. It's been awhile. Nearly three months since I last posted a blog.

It's been a rough week. I'm not sure where to start. Since Julie is the only reader and she already knows everything about me...I'll just pick up like no time has passed. Here are a few things that have happend these past few weeks.

The guy standing in front of the banana stand at the grocery store was lingering a little too long. I spotted him as I was making a bee-line for the bananas. His large body swayed. His head moved as he examined the offerings. I didn't have time for him. I waltzed up, picked a bunch and went on my way. Three minutes later as I was perusing the mixed nuts Mr. Banana comes up to me. "How did you do that? How did you pick your bananas so quickly?"

I wanted to say "I have seen a lot of banana shaped items, so I can pick 'em like a pro." I chuckled to myself as I held my tongue. "I've just got a good eye," I said with a smile.

"You must."

I was one of eight people attending our weekly meeting. Only four were really engaged in the conversation. They were talking over my head about things I didn't grasp, using acronyms and abbreviations carelessly. If I wasn't nursing the world's worst hangover, I could have faked attention. My head was swirling with the apologies I needed to render. My stomach was sour. My eyes fought the urge to shut. This is why I can't drink anymore.

After three months of intense working out, my clothes no longer fit. It's pathetic the way my pants sag. I've got enough room in my crotch to fit a small child. It's time to go shopping. I'm way too frugal to spend money on clothes. Instead I fill my virtual carts at places like Nordstroms and JCrew. Each item picked conjures up a vision of where I'd go when wearing it. I look great in everything. The shoes are comfortable. I never spill or stain any of it. Then I pulled my head out of the computer and see that I've got a pile of clean clothes to be put away overflowing on the green chair. Fantasy is so much more fun.
Still with me? Good. I had a phone interview for a job in Gulf Shores this week. I was really interested in the job - it's be doing community relations for BP. I love the work I am doing up here in Decatur. But I've always wanted to live at the beach. I've literally dreamt of it for a decade. The interview went well, but I realized they really need someone from the Gulf area to do the work. I have no connections in that area. Feeling deflated I hung up the phone and refocused on my work. At least I tried. The next day my Nanny was put in the hospital. As I was walking through the parking deck, my brother relayed the news that I'd be an aunt again. It was a swirl of emotions. Deflated, worried, excited, hopeful, confused, and inspired. I can't wait for the new addition. Around the trn of the year, I dreamt we'd have a new baby by Christmas 2011. Since I was told I shouldn't have kids, I knew I was out of the mommy running. Funny how some dreams come true. I left the hospital tonight and absolutely fell apart. I heaved and sobbed in the car, snot running down my face, sick to my stomach. My emotional tank was empty. I know Nanny will be okay. The woman is so well preserved that she'll outlive us all. I know I wasn't supposed to get the job in the Gulf, my life in Huntsville is too good. I am thrilled to welcome a new niece or nephew, but mourn the reality of my future parenting opportnity. Ahh reality, you're a tough pill to swallow.

I'll stick to what I know - picking bananas, staying awake in meetings, filling my cart with fabulous clothes and listening my dreams.