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Know how you have those times when you feel like a chicken with its head cut off?

Well, lately I’m not sure where mine is.

I guess right before I moved until this very moment I’ve felt that way.

There’s always something to do, plan or somewhere to go. When this hits, I neglect my blog and that saddens me.

Wanting to show pictures with every post, I put off writing if I don’t have the time to get one (said “up” then realized I should find another way of saying it) prepared to upload (yeah, doesn’t sound right, does it?).

I just got back from a few days in Utah for:

1. A badly-needed hair trim. Not cut… I’m growing it out. There is a small window of opportunity to have long locks again before I’m too old to pull it off. But I was (pinches index finger toward the thumb) THIS close to messing it up today by getting an at-home color-in-a-box. I was standing in the hair color aisle at Walmart trying to figure out which one I should buy (can’t remember the last time I used a color-in-a-box). Riley answered his phone, luckily, and talked me off the roof. I was about to jump and it wasn’t gonna be pretty. He said, “Don’t do it. You need to seek professional help.” Maybe he didn’t say those words exactly, but that’s how I hear ’em and whatever it takes for me to come back from crazy is what I’m going with. Last night I contemplated going short again (I’m in the middle stage where it’s just past my shoulders but you can’t tell because it isn’t long enough to lay against my back and instead forms a dorky flip out making me look quite matronly – I don’t want to look matronly, thankyouverymuch). But, luckily, I had encouragement to stick it out. Let’s see how far I go. Update: So I started this post a couple days ago and today I got in to see a semi-professional hair artist… it was a beauty school and my gal is all of 17 and still in high school! Yikes… but she did fabulously… took FOUR hours but it’s a 100% if I were too hot for teacher (by-the-by… her instructor has a bald head with an eyeball tattoo’d on the back — if it were two he could say “I have eyes in the back of my head” but it’s just one… stumps me).
2. Lunch with some labies at Carrabba’s (Azucar, ~j, Cdub, b., Tiffayfay, Geo and Peef). Had the salmon, needed me some Omega’s, and got to participate in voodoo at the table (I contributed the materials and Geo performed the ritual… restaurant manager, Leo, had to help facilitate). Tattoo and voodoo in one and two.
3. Wicked football game of Colby’s that I spent ON THE FIELD taking pictures. So it’s the playoff’s and security is heightened. I guess the previous weeks game had some drama (as in the other teams coach stomped a pheasant to DEATH on the field; he’s been slapped with a cruelty to animals fine) so everyone was on tight alert. I had my gear and asked Colby’s dad if he thought I could get on the field to shoot a few. He doubted it but cheered me on to give it the old HS try. With my 70-200mm lens in hand, I marched up to the bouncer guys at the gate to work my magic. Well, apparently my magic preceeds me because I didn’t say a word but instantly had a field pass in hand. SCHWEEET! I said “thanks” like I’ve done this a million times (my first time) and played the part by chatting with the cops as we prepared for the national anthem. I was IN and stayed down there the whole game (except 1/2 time when I joined the fam back in the stands to show them a few shots and squeal about how much fun it was being in the middle of all the action).
4. Dinner out… went with Colby’s family to Chaddar’s for the first time. Was cool because they’ve been sued by In n’ Out Burger for copyright infringement and I’ve always wanted to know what the fuss was all about. Personally, not impressed (but I’m not impressed with INO either… give me a Fuddrucker’s anyday). But it was good company and that’s all that really matters (especially when I had Carrabba’s for lunch).
5. Shopping with my friend… okay, it was a quick trip to Walmart to find more 2.5 oz travel size Big Sexy Hair (no, I still haven’t found it in case anyone out there wants to get me the perfect give or two or three for Christmas, Hannukah or New Year’s). But being with a good friend doing something mundane is better than doing something mundane alone.
6. Getting a second set of six temporary teeth installed (I’m sure that’s not the technical term)… my front two teeth were due for replacement after 18 years of cap-tivity (harharhar) so my dentist and lab tech friends convinced me that the best way to go was to do all six to make it look more natural — I’m extremely pleased with how they’re coming along. This time I chose NOT to be sedated (note to self: ALWAYS make arrangements to be sedated) and found out my metabolism (what? I HAVE a metabolism?) is pretty high because I go through the numbing meds like they’re soft packages of Suzy Q’s cream cakes (m-m-m even though I haven’t put one to my lip in years). As I was trying to brave out the last bit of drilling, grinding and chopping so I could try and have use of my upper lip sooner than later (Bart Simpson look-alike isn’t what I’m going for), a seriously strong and quick whip of pain thrusted through my torso that hurt so bad I’d rather give birth again (and all my friends know how much I DON’T want to ever do that again). Phew… so excited that I get to endure it all again in December when I get the permanent stuff “installed.” I love my dentist(s) and lab tech. I love that I can make them all laugh too. They kept saying something about a labial something-or-other and, of course, I couldn’t help but think they were saying something else (if you don’t get it, that’s good).
7. Football uniform pictures for Colby’s folks (LOVE them) and grandfolks (they’re so VERY cool)… I swear (a lot of that going on, huh?) I have some great giggles with that kid and have the pictures to prove it. Won’t be able to edit them ’til after next week, darnit.
8. Bridals for Kristy (absolutely gorgeous girl) at a crazy hospital with her FUN mom and about-to-pop-out-a-baby-any-minute sister who I photographed two years ago at HER wedding. Hopefully I can get a few shots posted to show you before Saturday. Update: no, I won’t, because Phil can’t see them :o(
9. Dinner with Cathy (just the two of us and much needed since we hardly get the alone time anymore) at Carrabba’s that was beyond packed in the waiting area AND outside (can I just say I LOVE it when I don’t have to wait… I make a call and bing-bang-boom I’m in). We both had the tilapia special and had the privalege of being served by the BEST server there (another request)!
10. Shopping with more friends… stocking up Saturday night for Sunday dinners and laughing over butcher meat.
11. Sunday went to church and didn’t shed a tear this time. When I was there two weeks ago I was a complete basket case and couldn’t hold it in. I swore (see, more of it) this time I would try and keep my cool, and I did. I miss everyone there so very, very much. Because we didn’t have family there, they were my family. They ARE my family still. Great, NOW I’m gonna cry. Gotta get off the computer and take my mind of it.

Will do my best to get some pics for you to see soon. Peace out.

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Since moving, we’ve had the pleasure of welcoming several service people to help fix our stuff. There’s been a couple from the HVAC cleaning company (the first guy made the ducts worse, the second guy had to come re-do it all and get it cleaned up), several from the cable company (one the first time to wire but it didn’t work right so two more came out to fix what he did wrong then another inside to get the box working and yesterday another for the new box because the first one didn’t work right; did you add them up… yes, five just for our TV viewing pleasure), W/D delivery were two guys and I feel that I’m missing another fella but cannot remember where from.

Every SINGLE one of those guys reeked of cigarette smoke. As soon as I opened the door to let them in I got smacked in the face with an invisible cloud of ashtray smell that made a trail to wherever they were going and floated around them like Pigpen’s dust aura while they were here. Don’t get me wrong, every one of those guys have been very pleasant, helpful and professional (palms to the roof for the W/D main guy) and I certainly didn’t treat them any different than I would’ve if they hadn’t smelled. But, boy, as a non-smoker who doesn’t hang out in smoky environments, that stuff sure hits me like a ton o’ bricks (coincidentally, it’s actually not as bad as pumpkin guts).

Wonder where the unwritten rule is that says it’s a good idea to have employees reek when they come into our homes. Same would go for someone who had foul body odor, too much perfume or whose feet stunk so bad you couldn’t help but notice. Sometimes these things aren’t easy for someone to control (body odor), and I do not fault them if they’ve tried to un-stink themselves.

But, really, why is it OKAY (obviously it is or I wouldn’t have had EVERY ONE of my service people stink)? Has this condition been accepted for so long that it’d be next to impossible to get changed?

Maybe… when we make a request for an in-home service call we request that the employee doesn’t smell? I’ve known some smokers who don’t reek, so I don’t think it’d be fair to ask for a non-smoking employee (and wonder, in the Seattle area anyway, if it’s even a possibility that there’s a non-smoker service guy in the lot). I’m just talking about the stinky smokers, not the non-stinky ones.

And, yes, I do not smoke and have never enjoyed being around people who are smoking or who had recently smoked (so the smell lingered). Kissing a guy that smoked was gross and if I ever knew that a guy smoked before I kissed him then I wouldn’t kiss him at all.

I do not dislike smokers but I do dislike smoking.

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I’m the PTA newsletter editor for Jack’s school (to see my first solo issue, click here then NEWS and on the right OCTOBER 15, 2007 for a PDF viewing).

When “Eats, Shoots and Leaves” came out, I was one of the first to tear it open and read it cover to cover. There is a kid version plus another for kids about the apostrophe, “The Girl’s Like Spaghetti,” which I need to get because my apostrophe usage is beyond weak, at most.

Today I came across a rule on GrammarBook.com that I SWORE was different all these years. When I searched for comma, this is the first rule that came up.

Comma

Rule 1
To avoid confusion, use commas to separate words and word groups with a series of three or more.

Example
My $10 million estate is to be split among my husband, daughter, son, and nephew.

NOTE
Omitting the comma after son would indicate that the son and nephew would have to split one-third of the estate.

However, my thought all these years was that the “and” can act as the comma; e.g. fish, steak and eggs or shirt, pants and shoes. I think that fish, steak, and eggs looks messy with that additional comma.

Since I’m on my soap box, there is another rule that I wish everyone would follow…

Spacing with Punctuation

Rule 1
With a typewriter, you sometimes use one space or two spaces following punctuation. With a computer, use only one space following periods, commas, semicolons, colons, exclamation points, question marks, and quotation marks. With a computer, the space needed after these punctuation marks is proportioned automatically.

Q: Thoughts on my comma theory?

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What’s with hair, anyway? I’m at the in-between stage of what to do with my hair. I think I want to grow it out, because I can always go back to short, and now would be better than when I’m 50 — don’t think I can pull it off then.

So do I sit and wait while it slowly grows or do I keep trimming into a style as it grows so I don’t look like a dork in the interum?

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I ache.

I miss my Utah friends.

I do love my new place,
even though there’s still lots to do.

But I miss my Utah friends.

I ache.

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Through linking a few times, I stumbled across this blog post and found it an interesting read.

I can relate to a lot of the points made about personal space and wonder what your thoughts are (that’s an open invitation to leave a thoughtful comment about your experiences).

Although I haven’t analyzed my boundaries as closely as the writer has, I notice there are some people I rarely touch (some of my absolute best friends), others I can’t seem to get enough of (Cjane, but who DOESN’T want to touch her – she’s like Midas), some I cringe to think they’d touch me “hello” and others (they could be strangers I’ve never met or spoken to before) I kiss on the cheek as a greeting like it’s nothing at all. I am much more affectionate with men than women and kids are welcome to smoosh up to me anytime (hopefully when they’re not sticky or messy, hahaha).

It’s kind of like a cat that rubs itself against people they adore, trying to leave their scent, or is it something else entirely? My mom likes to insist she knows the exact reasons why I turned out the way I did based on my youth but is it as easy as that? My answer is no.

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Hereby, I declare that any request to forward mass emails
to exchange recipes, socks, dish towels, etc. will be met
with a quick press of the DELETE button and no further explanation.

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