A quest to make sense of it all. Or a sense to make a quest of it all.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

I actually just heard someone say, "We need to just take all the Mexicans, grind 'em up and make chili out of 'em, and send it to India. They'd eat it."

Yeah.
What Do You Call Santa's Helpers? Subordinate Clauses.

Hehehe.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Am I the only supernatural-stuff enthusiast who is utterly unmoved, unsatisfied, and underwhelmed by "orb" pictures and video clips? To me, they all look like either dust motes, bugs, or reflected light.

I know there's another level out there. I've been privy to it, and rarely when I've been prepared or actively seeking something out. I don't understand it, and I'm usually scared of it. It bothers me that there have been very few witnesses to my own experiences, and only one of them who had formerly been a skeptic. (He is no longer sceptical.) It's almost all under the heading of "subjective". I'm not down with that. I want irrefutable proof.

If I can't have proof, I can at least read some nice ghostie/goulie stories this afternoon. If you've got any tales to share, be they your own or your family's or even of urban legend-ancestry, I'm up for it. If you got 'em, bring 'em. It's a gloomy, cloudy day here and I'm aching for some spookiness.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Because it's getting increasingly difficult to convey information unless it's bulleted or listed:

10 Things I have to say right now

1) Luke's coming home in 15 days. And not a nanosecond too soon.

2) Brandon's staying with me until then. He's been here since Monday. 6 days. 6 days. 15 more. 6 days. What can I say? I like my Brandon, but I like my space. It's because I'm 77% feline. As long as I'm fed and groomed I'm cool with minimal human contact.

3) Was just contacted by a woman I was thinking about renting a house from. She has another one now that's more in my price range, and I've fallen in love with it. It's an old, old white farmhouse about 5 miles outside of Corinth. Pics on my Flickr.

4) I cannot get enough water in my body. I've felt hungover and deathish for three days now. Considering rigging a self-IV.

5) Not going to make it to Buffalo for the Aug 31st screening of Halloween. I failed to secure tickets back when they were cheap, and now it's too late to get anything reasonably priced.

6) I can, however, afford to go to Memphis and see The Harmony Brothers that night.

7) Like I did last night, and it was fantastic. Full review forthcoming. At some point.

8) Friday night, we celebrated boss's birthday with a little party, and I had the best margarita I've ever had. Salud.

9) I made these little pinwheel things for the occasion. They're my go-to for events. Easy and everyone always raves about them.

10) It was a lot harder to think of 10 things to talk about than I though it would be.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007


So I saw Stardust. Twice. And I'm seeing it again on Thursday.
It's a perfect movie for the generation raised on The Princess Bride. It's so much fun! Humor, swordfighting, true love, campy British accents by American actresses, magic, evil witches, Robert De Niro as a pirate, Peter O'Toole as a king, UNICORNS, fire, goats, overly dramatic music crescendos, ghosts, miniature elephants, poisoned drinks, castles, runes, ferrets, and a guy makeover that transforms him into a seriously dreamy hunk. I even liked Claire Danes in it, and I don't usually like her. No trace of her Chin Wobble (TM) here.
Yesterday wasn't a total bust. My mother eventually remembered my birthday, as did my coworkers. There were Manhattans directly after work, which I had never had before and never will again. I'm just not a whiskey girl, at all. Not big on tequila, either. Two liquors I'm just not cool with.
I digress.
Then I went to Jessie's house, where she grilled chicken and made pasta salad AND mac&cheese , because there's no better way to eat on a birthday. Carbolicious. That's about it.

Anyone else want another look at Tristan? I know I do:





Silly girl, just standing there. Make. A. Move.




Thursday, August 09, 2007

The exodus went pretty well. I went to my house (well, got a ride to my house since my demoncar is in the shop AGAIN), and started the cleaning process. See, Brandon and I slept there the night before, when he came down from Nashville to get his portfolio. And while there, I realized that I had only slept there maybe four times in the past month. So it hadn't been cleaned in all that time. I hadn't left any garbage or dirty dishes out, but the place had been taken over by spiders and dustbunnies. So last night, I got the laundry going, re-washed the dishes that had been left in the dishwasher, dusted, stripped off all the bedding to be washed, cleaned the toilets and sinks, hosed down the kitchen with bleach, swept the whole house (it's all hardwood), and mopped the kitchen. I would have mopped the whole house but (grrr) the bottom actually fell out of the bucket as I was carrying it to the living room. Boy, that was fun. So actually the living room got a thorough mopping as well. By then, I was bushed. I checked the fridge. No good news there. Long-spoiled milk, condiments, and some tilapia I dethawed about three weeks ago. The freezer yielded freezer-burnt frozen veggies and sugar-free popsicles.

I called mom.

Stayed the night there again.

And I had plans to go back to my house, continue my cleaning, take a long bath in my scrubbed tub, shave my legs, and put my favorite sheets on my bed. Then my mother called me a few minutes ago and told me that my dad is getting called out to a fire and will be heading to Arkansas this afternoon. So mom wants me to stay with her for at least a few days so she won't be so lonely. *sigh* Ok. Mom and I actually have a really good time together in this kind of situation. Maybe it's reminiscent of the times my dad was out at sea or something. We'll have a good time, drinking Salty Pups and watching all the scary movies that we never get to watch together 'cause Dad hates anything remotely hinting at horror. (She loves horror, particularly when it's supernatural in nature, which is how my own tastes run.) I'm just eager to get settled in my own house again. I'd invite her to stay with me for a couple nights, but there's no way she'd leave the dogs alone, and they can't be at my place.

In other news, word on the street is that Lucy's getting an overnight pass this weekend. He'd better.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Dear Mom and Dad:

I know I've been staying with you guys a lot lately, and that you're comfortable with that. I know that you, mom, have always had a hard time with not seeing me every day. But it occurs to me that I like my own house. I like the freedom of my own house. And it's unfair to all of us for me to continue crashing at your place just because I don't want to offend anybody. This case of empty-nest syndrome has gotta stop now. I'll still come over a lot. As of this afternoon, I'm relocating all of my items that have migrated from my home to yours, back to their rightful place on Madison Street. You can stop by any time (at least until Luke comes home, and then you have to call first). I'm putting my foot down about this.

Reasons:

1) My air conditioner works.

2) No flea bites.

3) I don't infringe on anyone's morning time and no one infringes on my need to be a hibernating bear while it's still dark outside, as nature dictates.

4) I can watch a movie on a television set rather than a computer screen.

5) Superior sheets.

6) Laundry at my own pace.

7) A perfect, pre-designated home for every beauty aide/accoutrement I own.

8) My own coffee pot and tea pot.

9) I don't have to justify why I'm still up and reading at midnight. Sometimes I can't sleep, ok?

10) Exponentially wider variety of clothing.

11) Ditto, hair styling and makeup options, as there is room for all my stuff and I can groom in the bathroom as long as I feel like it.

12) No daily 7:45 a.m. morning panic.

13) I never again have to wonder what's going on a few rooms away and then down some mental Drain-o.

14) It's your house again. Drink up, maties. Yo-ho.

14) I don't do orange juice. Now or ever. And I don't have to repeat it daily.

15) Dietary freedom. I can eat all the canned tuna and reduced fat cheese I want. And that's all, if I choose.

15) We'll all spend less money on groceries. You people can have your $100/week grocery bills. As for me, I refer you to #15. 20 bucks'll do it.

16) My music, all the time. Bite me, Sousa.

17) An endless parade of surround-sounded George Romero zombie goodness, with me in front twirling a baton.

18) I spend less money at home. I don't know why, but it's true. Maybe because being in my own house makes me more cautious of where my money goes since I'm surrounded by things I've bought myself and bills that are my own responsibility.

19) I don't have to worry about offending anyone if I get a wild hair and decide on a dime to catch a movie or go tool around Kirkland's solo.

20) My bedroom stays dark and I like it that way.

21) I have at least one functioning window.

22) Absolutely zero risk of encountering animal excrement.

23) I'm 23.

24) I like the poodle a lot more when I don't live with her.

25) I start the dishwasher when it's full.

26) Have you seen my closet?

27) Until this past month, and with the exception of a month-long period when I was looking for a house in Corinth, I have been on my own for several years now. As is natural and good.

28) That's all I can think of right now.


*This was e-mailed fifteen minutes ago. Waiting for something to hit the fan.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Having recently gone off the deep end, to put it delicately, into an obsessive world of weight loss and beautification, I decided last night to add a new element: tingle tanning lotion.

OOOOOWWWWIIIEE!!!

Now keep in mind that I'm a sporadic tanner. I buy a package, go until I've got a borderline amazing tan, then just kinda taper off. I hadn't gone in a few weeks, but I had been meaning to. A few nights ago at WalMart, I found myself staring at the legs of the girl in front of me. Long, slim, set off to perfection in white running short-shorts, they were an enviably gorgeous bronze. I was smitten. With her color.
Societal norms be damned, I stepped forward. Feeling like the biggest, whitest dork in the world and struggling to keep my arms around my new beauty products and family-size package of raw tilapia, I said, "Hi, this probably sounds really creepy, but do you use a tanning lotion? I've gotta know, 'cause I need to get really tan really fast. Do you use anything?" The golden angel, mercifully, didn't seem disturbed by my question and told me that she uses Bomb Shell lotion, and warned me that it's crazy hot but works fast. Ok.
So last night I went swimming and then received a satisfying ass-kicking from the elliptical machine, then hit my tanning salon. I strolled up to the counter, eager to purchase the magic concotion that would have me looking like I just got back from Mexico tomorrow morning. I told Lisa (the owner) what I wanted, and she actually snickered.
"No way, Sarah. That stuff's intense, and you've almost totally lost your base tan. You'll be crying. I won't sell it to you right now."
"Well... is there anything less painful I could try? Something with a bronzer?"
"Uh, if you REALLY want one with a tingle, try the Firestorm. It's not as rough, but you'll definitely see a difference fast."
"I'll take it!"
"Ok, but you know our policy on returns for lotions. No can do. You sure?"
"Yes!"

I made the purchase, grabbed the goggles and charged into room #4. I slathered on the lotion and jumped into the tanning bed, anxious for the process to begin. It was like a first date. Would this go well? Would I regret it? The lights kicked on.
Nothing.
For about 10 minutes.
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I talked Lisa into letting me stay in for 15, despite the fact that I hadn't been there in weeks, claiming that I'm not ray-sensitive. Mistake. Right as the 10-minute mark passed, I started feeling... a tingle. It started on my chest, and then continued on to my legs and arms. Not bad, I thought. Piece of cake. Doesn't hurt. A minute later, I was biting my lip. Two minutes later, I was doing lamaze breathing. Three minutes later, I issued a whimper. Four minutes later OH SWEET LORD WILL THIS EVER END OH MY, OH MY BODY IS ON FIRE!!!!MAKE IT END I THINK THIS THING'S BROKEN AND I'VE BEEN IN HERE FOR THREE HOURS DOESN'T ANYONE CARE?? I'M SURELY CHARRING TO A CRISP AND OWWWW!! OW, OW, OW! ...

The bed turned off and I jumped out, sure that my skin was crackling and falling off. The pain subsided immediately but did not disappear. I went home and, as Lisa advised, did not shower for an hour. When the hour had passed, I confidently stepped into the shower and immediately began lathering up with my favorite pink pouf.

My parents heard my yowls over the Les Miserables (stage) DVD they were watching two rooms away, with surround sound.

I don't know whether it's just the lotion, or if I'm burnt, or both. I do know that everytime I tried to turn over in bed last night, I felt like little spiders with tiny razor blades were attacking my legs and giggling. And now I have this bottle of deadly lotion that I don't know what to do with. Maybe I'll try it again after I re-achieve a base tan (without lotion, thankyouverymuch). Or maybe I'll take it out in a field somewhere and shoot it.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

It's Wednesday and I'm finally starting to recover, calorically and otherwise, from the trip to Missouri this past weekend. Luke called me on Friday to tell me that there would definitely be an all-day pass on Sunday and perhaps an overnight pass for Saturday. This call came in the middle of an already fanfrickintastic day. Highlights:

*Friday was Brad's last day (which isn't fantastic, but let me go on), so we gave him sort of a farewell lunch at Mi Toro (now it's fantastic!).

*Bobby picked up the tab. My boss owns.

*After lunch, it became a shoot-the-shit kinda day. We were all still working, of course, but more merrily than usual.

*One of the guys said he could tell I've lost weight, and did so without that implied "You were so fat before" that can make a weight loss compliment so bittersweet.

*I acquired a new stackable rack in which to organize the paper jungle on my desk.

*Nick noticed and made "nice rack" jokes all day, which I'm unevolved enough to have enjoyed. I'll take compliments where I can get 'em, even if they're in a joking manner and about my bosoms.

*Luke called mid-shrimp and mushroom quesadilla! Husband+culinary delight = heaven.


So after lunch, Nick drove me to the rental car place, where I rented a gorgeous 2008 Grand Prix for the trip. Right after work, I decided that I absolutely would not make this trip alone. So I called Brandon and told him he was going to Missouri this weekend with me and that I would be in Nashville in three hours. We went out to a couple clubs, dined at IHOP sometime around dawn (since IHOP is the only acceptable place to go post-club activity), and crashed. The next midmorning, we rose, had an early lunch at Kabuto, and hit the road. Did I mention that this is a nearly seven hour trip? No? Well, it is, and in case you didn't know, long trips get even longer when there is no planning. We made way too many stops, and didn't study the overly complicated directions well enough (not that it would have helped; screw you, GoogleMaps! We're OVER.)and got lost in St. Louis. Finally arriving in Ft. Leonard Wood, tired, cranky, and bloated from all the sodium in road food, we collapsed at a Motel 6. I chugged an obscene amount of water in attempt to lose 40 lbs of water weight in 5 hours, and got up early to straighten my hair and don heels. Oh, I looked cute. (Pics to follow when I feel like it.) We met up with Lucy at the PX and spent the day together. It was wonderful. I just love that kid. Can't get over how different he looks. So much older. And thinner.

And now I've received word that there will indeed be an overnight pass this coming Saturday (there wasn't one previously). So I've reserved my darling Grand Prix, and Brandon and I are again making the journey. This time, though, I'm preparing. I'm getting the directions perfect. We're going to bed at a reasonable hour Friday night. We're eating a free breakfast, compliments of Brandon's mom, and packing a cooler with goodies like bottled water, chopped veggies, and chicken breast. We make no stops unless one of us in on the verge of uremic poisioning. The only exception to this is that if Luke's pass isn't issued until the late afternoon, we're going to pop off to Adams for an hour or so to see if we can't find the Bell Witch. She'd better make it snappy, 'cause we're on a schedule. I could use a shiver or three.