Wednesday, January 31, 2007

California dreaming

Cold, wet, cold, wet, cold wet, wet cold.

Winter is becoming dreary. I enjoy a chilly, rainy day as much as the next guy, but this steady diet is starting to get on my nerves.

My cellulite, on the other hand, is delighted. Talk about job security.

I've thought about trying to trick myself into feeling tropical, like using some sunless tanning lotion. But my feet and ankles invariably end up looking dirty and my nails turn orange.

Maybe if I went straight to sipping fruity drinks with little umbrellas stuck in them? After the second or third one it wouldn't matter that my yard is a mud hole and my toes are starting to web. But the buzz would wear off eventually and it wouldn't be worth the hangover -- or trying to explain to the neighbors why conga music is blasting from my house in the dead of January.

Mowing the yard in my swimsuit and taking dips in the pool seems like a million years ago.

Aren't you glad you stopped by?

Sunday, January 28, 2007

Top 10 Things That Feel Great (family-friendly version)

1. Throwing stuff away.

2. Finally deciding what you're hungry for, then discovering you actually have it on hand.

3. A hot shower on a cold day.

4. Working up a sweat by doing honest, hard physical work that accomplishes something.

5. Going to bed on freshly washed sheets after you get out of the shower (or tub.)

6. Realizing on a cold, rainy morning that you don't have to do anything or be anywhere and going back to sleep.

7. Being cuddled by a toddler.

8. Falling in love.

9. Having enough money in your bank account to pay all of your bills, with some left over.

10. Making up with a friend after a fight.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

It just goes to show, you never know


Within two hours of writing Monday's post, I found out over $1,200 had been stolen from my bank account, I was asked to be the Public Information Officer
for the Liberty County Emergency Management Task Force (a delightful twist of irony), I met the new editor of the newspaper I used to work for, and I was asked to do a voice-over intro for a church television spot. I filed a police report, had lunch with my mom and sister in Houston, and spent two hours at the bank trying to straighten out my account before racing back to Liberty for a meeting with the Liberty County Emergency Task Force that evening.

I spent Tuesday and part of Wednesday participating in a mock/terrorist attack scenario at the county jail. I met one of the owners of the magazine I'm writing for, had lunch with one of my favorite detectives, made ammends with a friend at that same lunch, networked with potential writing clients, and lined up a few paid writing gigs.

Not too shabby for someone who spent the better part of last week sitting on a couch eating chocolates in her jammies.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Too much Chile Con Queso

Sleep was not refreshing last night. I kept waking up between disturbing dreams, then tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, thinking about how tired I would be in the morning.

Tiffany, for what it's worth, I dreamed you adopted a little Asian baby girl. Cute as a bug and a chubby little thing. I was holding her while she grabbed a yogurt out of a refrigerator with Hunter looking on. Weird.

I also dreamed I kept getting out of bed to turn on the bathroom light and it wouldn't turn on. It just stayed dark. No lights would turn on. Then I would be back in bed and it would start all over again. Creepy.

Why can't I ever dream I've won a million bucks in the lottery?

Sunday, January 21, 2007

The write stuff

What a difference a week makes.

I will spend this week re-organizing my life. I'm still thrown at the abruptness of the change, but hey - what doesn't destroy us makes us stronger. Right?

I'm armed with optimism (Ellen DeGeneres told me I can do anything), talent (my mom says I write good stuff), and determination (otherwise known as "lack of options.") How can I fail?

Note: The Colts/Patriots game is proof positive that any team I root for loses. But what a fight!

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Got milk?

As I sat on the couch this afternoon eating an enchilada Lean Cuisine sprinkled with crushed red pepper, drinking a Diet Coke, and watching Ellen, she said something that struck me to my core.

Ellen DeGeneres looked straight at me and said, "You can do anything you put your mind to."

I thought to myself, "You know what? She's right."

I shrugged off my blanket, stood up from that couch, tightened the string on my jammie pants, and marched right into the kitchen. It only took a minute to find the box of Russell Stover cream centered chocolates, and before you could say, "Self-medicate," I was back on the couch shoving 'em down.

That Ellen sure is onto something.

Walmart, anyone?

On the 17th day of the rest of my life, I walked out on my job. I made it exactly one year to the day. January 16th was my one-year anniversary.

I'm sure everyone will be better for it.


Monday, January 15, 2007


My nose is stuffy and I feel like I'm getting a cold. I've been slamming hot toddies and popping sinus pills like crazy, but it's still coming.

It sucks.

The rest of the world around me is bracing for a monster ice storm that's really not going to hit. Ooooooh, it's going to get down to 30 degrees, we're going to freeze, the earth is going to stop rotating, our cable might go out.

Much ado about nothing.

Of course, I also said the Chargers were going to win yesterday.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

I'll have mine with vanilla flavored whipped cream

It's halftime, so I thought I'd pull myself off the couch for a few minutes.

You know, it keeps happening to me lately that I think I know someone, but I don't. Has it always been this way? Have I always just assumed I know where people are coming from, but I never really had a clue?


They say no man is an island, but that's exactly what every man is. And by man, I mean person. We are alone in our oceans, misunderstanding and misunderstood. Deserted.

Deserted? Dessert?

Yes, thank you - the game is almost back on!

Friday, January 12, 2007

Optimism rears its ugly head once again

Ahhhhhh, Friday. With all its promise and hope.

I promise to eat, sleep, and drink all weekend - and I hope it doesn't cause me to gain a hundred pounds.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

The 6th day of the rest of my life

After I set my hair on fire New Year's day, I went to work and turned in my resignation - effective February 1st.

I thought that was a nice, round figure: January 1st to February 1st. Of course, I also set my own hair on fire.

I'm going home to face the train wreck it has become since I started working a year and a half ago. And to pursue my writing career. If "to pursue" means to chase it down, wrestle it to the ground, and smash it repeatedly until it gives me what I want.

I turned 41 on Thursday. That forced me to re-write my profile (I decided to forego any mention of age), as did quitting my job. Now I'm a former everything but writer. I don't know how I feel about that.

I'm going to go sit on the couch, eat cold pizza, drink a beer, and watch "10 Ways to Crash, Burn, and Make a Come Back" on the E channel.

I've got the crash and burn thing down.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Aaaah, the smell of charred hair in the morning


So I wrote that whole optimistic outlook on New Year's Day thing. My fresh start, drastic changes, blah, blah, blah.

Guess what I did on the first day of the rest of my life?

I set my hair on fire.

There's a reason I never went in for that resolution crap.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Begin Phase 2

I have never been one to make New Year's resolutions, or really even acknowledge the day as a fresh start or anything special at all. Except for eating black-eyed peas, because of course everyone knows if you don't eat black-eyed peas on New Year's Day you'll have bad luck all year.

This year feels different. I'm making some pretty drastic changes, but they feel right.

As corny as it sounds (those on the inside know I am the queen of cornography) it really does feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.

And that's not just the hangover talking...