Through The Looking Glass

superfood

This post is named after my drink, to which I dedicate my entire day, maybe my weekend, and possibly even the entire week.

Deee-lish.

In honor of my vastly improved (times ten thousand) mood, here are some pictures of me. As always, click the thumbnail for a bigger version.

1. New hair and…

…new glasses. While Amanda totally made my day by saying I couldn’t get any cuter, I believe you will find that it simply isn’t true.

2. Puppies! Me and Penny napping.

I think that being as cute as Penny (or me, for that matter) should be illegal.

Now I really do have to finish cleaning the kitchen (at least I started!) because we are having a guest this weekend. It was sort of unplanned and I was all set to be righteously annoyed, but then I got this drink and I feel soooooooooo goooooooood.

Yesterday I cleaned the living room so thoroughly that it sparkles. Even the carpet. Today I meant to do the kitchen/entry way (let’s be honest here, the entry is just spill-off from the kitchen). But I don’t wanna.

Also, I’m kinda depressed ’cause we had money for about five seconds and now it’s (almost) all gone.

BUT! I got a very cute haircut. I will post pictures soonish, but not until something that I ordered arrives. Something that will make me even cuter.

But for now, though I am cute, and though I have Nero Wolfe novels from the library, and though I ate cheese fries, which I love, I am discontent. Will isn’t home and I don’t want to clean my kitchen (especially after making cheese fries).

You know what? I do believe I am grumpy.

I killed American Airlines, O’Hare, and the President.

I am in jail.

Please send money for bail. They won’t actually let me post bail or talk to a lawyer yet, but hopefully they will soon – and if not, I can use the money to buy cigarettes to trade with Gina, who seems to be in charge here. She looks kinda like Jenette Goldstein in Aliens. I like her. Alas, I think she likes me, if you know what I mean.

I don’t know where I am, but based on the smell of the small amount of air we get every morning, I am thinking Guantanamo.

American Airlines and Chicago O’Hare are now my sworn enemies.

I’m supposed to pick John up at LAX at 11:08 tonight. Yay! Yeah, not really. Because it is now 9:47 and his plane has NOT LEFT CHICAGO YET. Luckily, he emailed me earlier to let me know it was raining pretty hard and his flight might be delayed. But this does not qualify as a delay. This is SABOTAGE. American Airlines, O’Hare, and George W. Bush have conspired to ruin my night. Every time I check the flight status page, the estimated arrival time has been pushed later. It is currently estimated for landing at 2:11 AM, and since it hasn’t left yet I doubt it will be that early.

I have to get up around 7:00 tomorrow morning.

Oh, did I mention that John usually checks his luggage? Oh wait – maybe he doesn’t. I can’t remember. But if he does…

I am going to murder SOMEONE, as soon as I figure out who.

It feels very strange having people over to a house other than your own. I felt like my parents were away and the whole school showed up with kegs.
 
Except, it’s Meghan and Mark, not my parents, there were no kegs, and it was just Jenn and Roxanne, who are also friends with Meghan.
 
I haven’t been in a hottub in years. My back thanks whoever invented them – I haven’t felt this relaxed in for-fucking-ever. I slept like a baby. Er, a baby who sleeps very soundly. Pretty Penny was quite forgiving of me for stumbling out of bed after ten this morning and making coffee before walking her. Such a good dog. It will be very difficult to go home on Saturday and leave her.
 
I miss my husband. Boyfriend. Fianc�. Damn it! Whatever. I can’t wait for the wedding so that I’ll know what to call him.
 
Speaking of the wedding, we’ve sent off the information to our friend Emmy for the invitations. She has a letterpress and does truly gorgeous work. I hope the wording is not too silly – getting married in a movie theatre, we’ve gone whole hog with the Premiere theme. Formal-ish, but not very wedding-y. Alan, one of Will’s best friends, did a line drawing of the theatre for us. I haven’t seen it yet, and the anticipation is driving me insane. I know it’ll be stunning, as all of his work is, but I don’t know just what it will look like.
 
On Saturday I went to get my dress fitted. Driving back, I realized that This Is It. We’re getting married! I stopped feeling overwhelmed by planning (for about five minutes) and was just excited. Delightful feeling. Now if I could just figure out what the hell to do with my hair. (Any suggestions? I will NOT be wearing a veil, but am open to simple decorations.) It also occurs to me that I’d better learn how to put on make-up before October. I’m sure as hell not paying someone to do it for me, and besides which at my age I ought to have some clue what to do with rouge.
 
I worry that I’m making a mistake not hiring a professional photographer. It’s just that there are so many talented photographers in my family, so I feel that we’ll be covered. But maybe we should have someone there for just the photos. I don’t know!
 
Can anyone tell me if the home teeth-whitening kits work (Crest White Strips and the like)?
 
In conclusion, next time we’ll just go to an Elvis Chapel in Vegas and skip all this hoopla.

(Hee. If Vincent D’Onofrio shows up, I will be so psyched.)
 
Miss Penny is a delightful companion, but completely insane. For example, the computer desk is a few feet away from the bed; if she is on the bed and I sit down at the computer chair, she looks at me reproachfully till I pat my lap for her to come over. Not crazy yet, I know. But she will sit at the edge of the bed and cry until I roll the chair over close enough for her to jump. She won’t get down on the floor and then jump up onto my lap! Crazy. And I know I am not helping things by giving in, but I can’t help it! At least I am making her Sit before allowing her to come up on the furniture, and when it is time to put on her leash, and especially for treats (which have medicine hidden in them, but don’t tell her that). She has also been trying to eat leaves and bugs – I think she might have mistaken herself for a cat.
 
I should say that I am the perfect match for her, being batshit insane myself. This morning I was not yet awake when I walked her and forgot to bring a baggy. She pooped, and I took her back to the house where I got a bag and went back out. But could I find her poop? Let’s just leave it at ‘no’ and be happy no one got my running commentary as I looked for it on tape.
 
Ahhh, poo stories. I imagine that by the time I have my own babies you will have all stopped reading this in disgust.
 
Wedding update later if I get my act together. (Speaking of…OK, totally unrelated, my apologies to the folks on my mailing list. I can’t send updates because I have no idea what my notifylist password is. I am an ass.)

Yeah, so do I. Vividly.
 
So why the hell have I spent the last 72 hours watching I Love the 90s on VH1?!
 
I have exactly 4 brain cells left.

Somehow, I managed to spend all day Friday thinking it was the 14th, despite having spent all day Thursday knowing it was the 14th. And of course, the 15th, which didn’t exist in my head, was my dear evil twin’s birthday. Maybe if it never happened, you are still 25, my beloved Miss Twist.

In a little while I am heading to Meghan and Mark’s place to spend the week with Miss Penny. I am very excited, if a bit uncertain about sleeping away from Will for even one night. I will be online, but I have no idea if I will be able to access my email. It’s a tremendous adventure! Also, I have heard a rumor that there will be cable television. I may get addicted – they start you off for free until they hook you, you know. Then it’s a million dollars a month just to have more programs that you don’t feel like watching. Yikes! I hope I can resist.

All joking aside, it will be interesting to live with someone else’s kitchen for the week. I am so very used to my own. I don’t even know what to bring! Probably nothing right now – I can figure out what I need and pick it up later. I am so silly sometimes.

Bisy. Backson.

I got a postcard on Tuesday from UPS telling me that they’d attempted delivery of a package three times and were now holding it downtown.

Knowing that I’d been home on all three days, I called UPS to find out what the hell was up. They gave me the times of the delivery attempts and I was positive I’d been home. They also told me that it was an overnight air package, which means that someone paid for express shipping and didn’t get it.

Two weeks ago, the building manager requested our phone number to reprogram the intercom system. The first delivery attempt was one week ago, which is surely more than enough time to have gotten the intercom working (especially when they should have had our phone number in their files to begin with).

So I went down to the office and asked if the intercom was working. The manager wasn’t in and the man sitting at the desk was a surly type and told me that if I’d given my phone number, it was working. I didn’t believe him at all, and checked myself. It seemed to work, but it was hard to tell since I wasn’t home to answer. I called UPS, fingers crossed, and asked them to re-deliver.

As of 9:15 this morning, I am the owner of John Linnel’s State Songs. Yay! This lovely gift comes from Mister Simon Ball, who I most sincerely hope did not pay extra for shipping. Thank you, Simon!

The arrival of this CD prompted me to come up with an idea for a bumper sticker: My Other Husband is a John. It has so many meanings! I am brilliant.