Arsenic on the Rocks with Salt, PLEASE!

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Today is the last day of the week.  It better be as far as I’m concerned.  After a six-day roller coaster ride full of false starts and insane requests, coupled with stress x 325, I feel a bit of a rant coming on.  Sharing …

  • Nights and Days of the Living Dead:  I live in a midrise.  Every single fire alarm in every single room of every single residence – as well as all the hallways – had to be checked. This took three days.  Yeah, yeah, it’s for safety, I get that.  And we were warned to board animals and don earplugs as the sound would be deafening.  Understatement.  We have all been zombified.
  • No Good Deed Goes Unpunished:  Had some editing work to do for an author.  I was instructed to stop when my fee reached a certain figure.  This guy is a friend, there was a lot of material to reconfigure, so I did a full edit.  I left money on the table but can’t stop myself when words get in the way.  Sent him his edit and then received an email requesting no less than five more hours of editing for free.  My head said, “Dude, are you frigging kidding me?”. Instead, I told him to put his own suggestions into words and see what he comes up with.  Like some $$$$$!
  • Why You Gotta Be So Rude?  Went to a lovely small gathering Friday night.  Met a new couple from London; they were fun and interesting.  At the end of the evening, we are all at the door, thanking our host and hostess.  Mrs. London invited host and hostess to brunch today.  She added, “We can take them but it would be more fun, just the four of us.” EXCUSE ME. “Them” included me and another person; we have ears and we were standing right next to her.  It would behoove this muppet to grab an etiquette book AND keep her stiff upper – and lower – British lips zipped. Gah!

Enough!

Off to sip my arsenic cocktail while watching Wolf Hall.

Later.

Friendship is a Sticky Wicket

Apparently it’s National Friendship Week.  Next week reserved for red noses. But I digress …

My Dad once said, “If you have a handful of true friends, you are lucky.”  At the time, I thought he was being negative and ridiculous.  Why, I had a million friends (I was young).  Turns out, he was right and I was wrong.  And, surprisingly, I love when I am proven wrong because I learn from it.  And it’s important to me to never stop learning.  I am lucky. I do have a handful of true friends, precious gifts I love and treasure.

Friendship is a sticky wicket. A delicate situation.  I love my friends.  I’m hard to love, so I’m lucky to have any.

imageAnd then there are the others … fabulous and not so much –

  • The Forever Friends – these are the wonderful people I may not see for 10 days, weeks, or years yet we pick up right where we left off  – ahh, beautiful!
  • I Wanna Talk About Me” Friends – we all have them; as long as they are the subject of all conversation, all is well.  Try to get a word in edgewise, like “Oops, I’m bleeding to death” – impossible.  Just gotta love them anyway.  From a distance.
  • Let’s Have Lunch Friends – never happening, don’t kid yourself.  They are really awesome people but chicken salad sandwiches and iced tea are not anywhere in your future.
  • Spill Your Guts/I Don’t Know You Friends – they appear at your door, spill their guts about a situation, situation gets fixed.  Next time they see you, they look right through you.  Pitiful.  Don’t answer door next time.
  • Deep As A Pie Pan Friends – can only talk about parties, travel, clothes, and light fabulousity; requires massive quantities of NoDoz and temporary loss of short-term memory.

So now I’m thinking I really am lucky to have my handful. As for the rest, move along. In the words of my new hero, Mark Manson, “I don’t give a f*&@!”.  (You are thinking this started out so nicely … SURPRISE!).

Off to work out snarkiness … maybe

Later

P.S. Many thanks to bestie Austin Ann for intro to writing of Mark Manson

Found On Road ….

Think I was going to say, “dead”? Nah. I was a bit horrified to find I hadn’t plugged in here for a very long time; not horrified enough to hit the keyboard, obviously. As I try to catch up with my “friends” here, I’ve got to cut to the chase and let my thoughts for the last year go ….

  1. Mantra for this year: I can do better. This has nothing to do with social status and everything to do with my personality flaws. To misquote John Wayne, “If you don’t like something, don’t bitch. Get off your butt and do something about it.” It would be much cooler had I quoted something from Jay Z, but I’ll leave that to my brilliant young friend, Megan Silianoff.
  2. Brilliant young friend mentioned above has written an amazing memoir, 99 Problems But A Baby Ain’t One. Young and memoir don’t usually add up to much, but this one has been over the river and through the woods of shit, remaining sassy and upbeat, emerging victorious on the other side. Her blog is greetingsfromtexas.com. We met at Cheeky Vintage, quite possibly the very best vintage store this side of the moon.
  3. Country Music: have been a hater all my life but have changed my mind this year. Not going so far as to say I can stand any of that twangy crap but as I’ve been listening I realized the songs, whether giddy or sad, are honest. Honest is good and I can understand what the singer is saying. Shit, that sounds like an old bag which I am most certainly not. Shit. Anywho,  one song, “I Pray for You” by Jaron and The Long Road to Love, which must have been written after a breakup. It is so mean in a good way – things you’ve most certainly thought but never said out loud. No haters – I didn’t write it.
  4. Professor Dreamy joined the fam last month and we are all happy. He could truly teach men how to love a woman. Joyful, joyful.

Dashing. Laugh as much as possible. The photo below features is my friend, Nga; she needs a razor intervention.

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Later.

Iz

Happy Sundry Sunday

Weekend adventures in menus, bargain hunting, fashion, and vitamins. Finished book and found some great sayings. Sharing …..

Menus

Each week is more kookadoodledoo than the last so it is necessary for me to cook on Sunday. Here’s what’s on the menu for next week:

  • Portobella mushrooms stuffed with three cheeses and topped with pancetta
  • Collard greens, slightly braised in garlic, lemon olive oil, and chicken stock, topped with prosciutto
  • Chicken fillets, stuffed with pesto cream cheese, then wrapped in turkey bacon
  • Tuna nicoise pasta salad
  • Potato chips, Fritos, Peeps and caffeine (requires no cooking)

Bargain Hunting

Less than $50, including pashmina. Rah!

After donating most of my closet to Goodwill, I was in a bit of a pickle re: upcoming events. But I am a determined lass (long in the tooth for a lass, but determined). Some of bargains above might go with my favorite bargains below:

Maxi colorblock dress, $78, huge scarf/wrap, $6

Needed yet another outfit, so while at work at Cheeky Vintage, I found a severely cool short black top from who knows where. Then I put it with a Chartreuse raw silk tea-length skirt from the closet of a Parisian or it was made in Paris – whatever! It’s smashing! The photo below does not do the skirt color justice – it is outstanding!

Aucon de vos affaires, mes amis

Vitamins

My dad has been having more back issues, bless his bones. Saint ShayShay suggested Pantothenic acid, which is a big fat word for B5. She swears it unclenched her neck and made her dad jump up and dance a jig after a skiing injury. DO NOT PUT ANYTHING IN YOUR MOUTH WITHOUT CONSULTING YOUR DOCTOR. That being said, the best price for B5 was at Whole Foods!?! There’s also a whole thing going on (so late to this party) about taking collagen in the form of gelatin pills; supposedly, this activity provides good hair, strong nails and less rickety joints/joint pain. Gelatin (see Knox Unflavored Gelatin), by definition, is made from the proteins derived from the bones and skin of animals (not a veggie situation). All the info I could find said no animals were killed for gelatin. Jury’s out, as far as I am concerned. I mean, the animals weren’t alive when the proteins were derived. Need to take ADHD vitamin and keep nose out of this.

Rules of Civility

Finished this and have changed my mind. Maybe. After finishingThe Paris Wife, set in the 1920’s, it was hard for me to jump into Rules‘ Manhattan of 1938. Places so different, themes so similar … jazz, art, and lots of booze. Please put more emphasis on first two; these books are very good.

Favorite New Sayings

Last Friday, OneKingsLane.com featured all sorts of art. One section, Typography & Letterpress, caught my eye. Word art. These were my favorites:

“The only zen you find at the top of the mountain is the zen you bring up there.”

“Breathe in the future, Breathe out the past.”

“I do believe there is time for another adventure.”

“Go and wake up your luck.”

Off to shake up my luck. It’s already awake.

Later.

Booking It

Better get these on the books before I get bored and start … handfishing with hillbillies. Not really. I don’t hang with hillbillies. And my relationship with fish involves cooking and a fork. But I digress …

Just read, am reading, will read:

  • The Other Tudors, Henry VIII’s Mistresses and Bastards by Philippa Jones. My obsession with all things Henry continues. Jones was/is a historian, and a good one at that. Each page is so full of information, I might finish when I’m 75, but this is a good book.
  • An Available Man by Hilma Wolitzer. The story of a 62-year-old widower thrust back into the world of women. Not a snore. This is a  good read and full of surprises. Brava, Hilma!
  • Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo. At my bedside, ready to read next. Great reviews for this “jaw-dropping” portrait of modern India.
  • Rules of Civility by Amor Towles. Stylish portrait of the higher life in 1930s New York. Still reading … really like the narrator but the lifestyle makes me want to go to AA and the characters make me sad.
  • The House at Tyneford by Natasha Solomons 
  • Gone With A Handsomer Man by Michael Lee West. Have always been a huge MLW fan; this would be my least favorite of all her book. Whining.
  • Rules for Virgins by Amy Tan. This one is a Kindle Single – a 40-page story that may or may not be part of future book. Shanghai. 1912. Former courtesan advising aspiring one. Fascinating.

Later.

Here’s to You, and You, and You

Just getting it off my chesticles:

  • To 32-year-old civil rights lawyer with really long hair: love your job, long hair is cool, dancing at event is fun but anything else, NO CAN DO! Not a fan of Harold and Maude situations. Give Demi Moore a jingle when she gets to feeling better. Caio!
  • To woman who asks me my name despite the fact we’ve met 346 times: none of your business, obviously. Get off the meds, you’ve lost whatever mind you had.
  • To the waiter from hell on his first night: bless your heart. You got a 20% tip because we felt sorry for you. Please, in the name of all diners, seek a new occupation. Art school? Banjo player in Vegas? Anything BUT waiting tables.  Thank you.
  • To the woman who thinks she knows it all: oh no you don’t! Go to the hardware store, buy some duct tape and put it over your mouth. Then go to the compassion store and clear the shelves. Haven’t the faintest where you can get a conscience, but wouldn’t be a bad idea to look into that, either.
  • To my dog: yes, I love you to the moon and back. I take better care of you than I do myself.  But you must stop creeping around eating God knows what in the middle of the night. Waking up to the sound of gagging does not put a festive spin on the day. Thank you.
  • To the woman who used to tidy up my house and empty my liquor cabinet: all is forgiven, it is a heinous job. I would get drunk, too, but alas … you drank me dry. Nevermind.
  • To all the nice friends we ran into at the “no one goes there” restaurant: that was not me in the baseball cap. Evil twin. Swear.
  • To Amazon, Kindle, Nook and other businesses selling/delivering books to iPad, etc.: stop blaming “the publishers” for the inflated book prices. You could do something about this if you wanted to, but you know how lazy we are. Stop It. While the product is convenient, it is usually riddled with weirdo spaces and funky words. STOP IT. Note to self: get up and go to the bookstore. Stop the madness. You should be ashamed of yourself. I am. Over.
  • To the Food Channel: I became an addict a few days after 9/11 … because your spot was all happiness and recipes and a total escape. Please lose “Fat Chef”. No disrespect meant to the plight of the obese but sad doesn’t look good on you. Make a deal with Lifetime or Bravo. Thank you.

Enough ranting.

Off to find my happy pants!

Later.

Good Reads, Phrases Translated, BS Intervention and Questions!

Good Morning, All! For some reason, my interior clock has been going off at 5 am, no matter how late I’ve gone to bed. It’s my theory that our “interiors” change every seven years – guess this is one of those. But I digress…..

Reading

  • Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller (read this one first)
  • Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness by Alexandra Fuller
  • Stupid and Contagious by Caprice Crane
  • Be The Miracle by Regina Brett
  • Duty Free by Moni Mohsin – hilarious

Listening

  • I wish I could play the piano like Gavin DeGraw does in his song, “Not Over You”. Beautiful. Even for people like me who are not even in that place (missing an ex), it still is mighty fine. Would also like to play the guitar like Jimi Hendrix beginning with “All Along the Watchtower”.

Not Watching  – one of my jobs allows me to work from home which allows me to watch tv and/or dance while I work. Am giving up tv because of these shows:

    • Extreme Cheapskates – watched this once time for 15 minutes; REPULSIVE and two of my former relationship men DID some of this stuff – told you I was a bad picker. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww.
    • Dance Moms – some of the stage moms on this show make any and all Housewives of Who Cares look like church ladies. Instructor Abby Lee Miller scares me more than Ron Paul + Nick Sabin + Rick Perry but she does get results out of her child dancers. One mother, the embodiment of self-control and a perfect role model, aimed her mouth at Abby Lee screamed “Whore” several times, in front of the children. I mean, her daughter didn’t get the part Momma thought she should. NOTHING. RIGHT. ABOUT. THIS.
Watching
  • Downton Abbey on PBS – Amazing period piece with costumes I am drooling over. Plus, these people behave properly.

Translations English to English

  • cool kicks – nice shoes
  • throwing bo’s – place is so crowded, elbows needed to make way through

BS Intervention and Man Stuff

  • Help, SOS maybe – ok, this is where your input is requested; do know that if you say something I don’t like, you will have 17 years of … something. I THINK I NEED A BS INTERVENTION. Specifically when speaking with Possible Possibility Guy. Back story: have been running into him for years but paid no attention for whatever reason. Plus, when he saw my youngest daughter, he was rendered fairly speechless and he is too old for her. It has been recorded here time and again, I am a geriatric magnet. I am not a geriatric nor am I interested in men older than my dad. Possible is about my age, has hair, and is one cool customer. When I talk to him, my bs reeks. The most inane information flies out of my mouth, truly horrifying. This is uncommon. Maybe it’s the seven-year change thing. If I don’t get my bs in line, I will be forced into a world where I’m pushing wheelchairs, cleaning dentures, and changing catheters with a mortal beloved (short-term, of course). Help. Why does this happen?
  • While walking my dog last night, I noticed one of my neighbors (he is my eldest daughter’s age) emptying his saucepan in the bushes outside his front door. Good grief – someone needs to tell him about disposals, non? His neighbor, an elderly man, puts peanuts out for the squirrels. The white styrofoam kind. Lots of dead squirrels.

ENOUGH! Must go back to creating big pink spheres for event. Am getting real $ for this. Something new and different.

If you have ideas about good bs with Possibility, do share – keep in mind, I have delete button.

Be happy. Or fake it. Or not. Your choice.
Over and out. Later.