Party Dress

The wedding we are attending in November, it's formal! I need to figure out what to wear. I have my New Year's Dress but it needs to be taken in at the shoulders and bust so that makes me think, hmm, maybe I should just buy a new dress.

So I ask you, dear reader(s), what kind of party dress should I buy? I need to look awesome because Jeremy totally married down so I'll need to over compensate for my inferiority complex by looking super hottt yet sophisticated but still like myself.

I have included a picture of me in a dress (that I would wear but it is too casual) as inspiration.

Also keep in mind that I will be seeing the woman who complimented me on my weight loss and told me not to give up while i was suffering from Salmonella, so something that will make me look hottt and curvy wouldn't go wrong either, although she'll probably still think I'm a great big fatty who could use another bout of debilitating food poisoning. Not that I care or anything.

So yeah, what the hell should I wear? Help me!

wake up

i am trying to reintroduce my 5AM wake up time from last year.

for months i was really good. i woke up at 5 made myself a powdered 'cappucino' and wrote for an hour. mostly i used my typewriter but sometimes i used my computer. i would do three pages longhand free writing first (as dictated by the Artist's Way) and then would work on my novel thingama (2-3 versions ago).

today i was up by 6 and i did a page of free writing and then i just stared at the screen and my brain sort of locked up. maybe it was the lack of 'cappucino.' maybe it was the fact that i am torn between 2 stories and multiple versions of one of them

• 20 something college student finds out her favorite teacher is pedophile
• family deals with teen pregnancy
• 15 year old in small midwestern town copes with change (at least 3 different versions of this one alone)
• something else entirely

i know i need to choose one and just stick with it, but i always seem to get crippled by doubt right around page 50. maybe it's because they are all at least a little bit autobigraphical. not one is 100% but they've all got a kernal of my life in them and suddenly i seem to doubt the validity of my own stories.

or maybe it's the lack of 'cappucino.' yeah, it's got nothing to do with low self esteem and everything to do with powdered beverages.

Poetry of my 21st year

So I'm SUPPOSED to be writing my novel but I got side tracked by the folder called Documents OC (OC = Old Computer) and in there I noticed something called summervacation.doc so i had to look at it and it's a poem both from and about the exact era that one of my maybe novels is about and it made me feel all warm and happy inside just reading so i have decided to ignore its dubious quality and share it with you, dear reader(s), you lucky devil(s)

What I Did Over My Summer Vacation

Sometimes,

we would sit on the front stoop

and drink cheap beer,

discuss Jeff’s scar

and how it turns a darker red

with each beer.

And sometimes,

we would sit on the ledge

blowing bubbles

at the pedestrians

waiting for the looks on their faces.

And sometimes,

I would sit on the couch

and wait for the buses to drive by

wait for the way the building shakes

there’s something about that.

And sometimes

I would just stand on the sidewalk

right near the spot

where someone wrote BUDDHA

and I would let my feet

just feel

the pulse that courses thru the pavement

the hum from the cars and people

the stench from the incinerator

that I’ve finally gotten used to

and it would make me feel so alive

that I was close to crying

and I would thank my stars

the lucky and unlucky ones

that I made this move out of suburbia

because grass doesn’t know how to feel like that

it’s too soft

it absorbs the shock of the world

the white picket fences

keep life at bay

and nothing ever touches you

the pavement

the asphalt

passes it straight into your bones

and once it’s hit

you never want to lose it.

Pavement can be addictive

I swear to you it can.

And sometimes

I napped in the afternoon

the sirens and yelling people

lullabied me to sleep

as a thin layer of sweat

covered me in its

almost uncomfortable warmth

and I felt happy with my lot.

Yeah, I was reading a fair amount of Kerouac and ginsberg at the time, why do you ask?

Name change

You may have noticed that I have changed the name of my tiny little blog. No more of this Seriously? business. I have decided instead to sync up with my LJ (carolynwhines) and use the same title here.

Because, really, I am not a reliable narrator (just ask Jeremy) my predilection for exaggeration is known throughout the land! I like to tell lies. Just small ones, mind, not big ones about wars or sexual leanings, just tiny ones in order to make stories more interesting. I like to think it makes the world a better place, if only by making the truth tellers feel superior.

Obscene, but in a totally safe for work kind of way

Just soul deadening.

I find it disgusting, yet not terribly surprising, that the GOP would plan an event like that in a state that is in such dire straits right now. Sorry about that lay off and the fact that ANOTHER strike is right around the corner that you might not go back to work from, but we really had a hankering for some Mackinac fudge.

How anybody could choose to vote for any of these men is beyond me.

I am looking forward to my trip home even more now because I will be able to register from my parents' address in podunksville where my vote will actually count a little bit more than it did in Chicago.

Cornwall; I saw no wall of corn

Tracy ordered me to write about Cornwall but i don't have my pictures online yet so I will just give a brief overview.

We stayed between Penzance and St Ives in a house on the edge of the world with a view of the sea. We went to Tate St Ives and I learned about Sister Corita of the Immaculate Heart who is awesome. we also went to the Barbara Hepworth house and garden. Then we had cream tea, and let me tell you, cream tea is something special. It had nice dark tea and scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam. It was awesome.

We went to St Michael's Mount at Marazion but the castle was closed. It was okay though, because it was still awesome to walk to an island at low tide. There were swans in the ocean. There was also an awesome dog who kept flopping into the tide pools.

We walked to the Tinner's Arms in Zennor using the cliff path and saw some of the most amazing views. Pictures to come of Gurnard's Head in the sunset later. Then we walked home across cow fields and I saw 4 shooting stars. Nobody else saw them so the accepted theory is that I made up the shooting stars due to the 4 pints I drank and the chicken curry. But the stars were real! I was not nearly tipsy enough to imagine such a celestial occurrences.

Also, did you realize that there are a lot of stars in the sky? Like way more than i ever get to see from south east London? And I mean MILLIONS and KABILLIONS more! It's a pretty awe inspiring phenomenon. I haven't seen that many stars since the last time I was in Nebraska.

Overall, it was a really nice trip despite that fact tat a very drunk man at the Admiral Benbow informed Jeremy that he (Jeremy) was clearly gay for wanting to wash his hands after having pee. If that makes Jeremy on of the gays then I am happy to be his beard for the rest of my days. Who'd want a straight fellow if they all come with dirty hands? Goodness sakes!

Now I've got to go to Harlow in Essex to learn how to be a better Leader at the file factory. I won't be taking pictures of Harlow. Don't worry, you won't be missing much.

Attack Cat!

This is what it looks like when Oliver has The Rage. Moments after this picture was taken I was left with a bloody stump where my hand had once been. I have a hook now.

Hello Friday

After spending the week in a proper down in the doldrums funk I woke up this morning and was all like "Oh SNAP, it's Friday!" And I felt good. I felt nice.

I only encountered living breathing cats this morning, and the weather is nice and Jeremy was cuter than normal and I am feeling okay.

Is this feeling okay or a sign of extreme moodswings that ought to be attributed to some undiagnosed mental disorder?

I was chirpy and pleasant with the horrible ladies, and I'm not even faking it! Who is this crazy lady I woke up as this morning? What has she done with the grumpus? Did I eat a magic dosa at that Indian restaurant in Euston? Was it the paneer?

I don't know what it was, but it's nice right now, let's hope it sticks around.

Bad Omens

So this morning I was leaving the house all therapized and positive. I was thinking, today is going to be a good day. I am going to be strong and capable. I am a good leader and I deserve my job and any support I receive. I am not frightened of the horrible ladies. I was ready to take on the world.

So I turned out of my door and walked a few yards and noticed a cat laying in the middle of the sidewalk. Then I noticed that there was blood near the cat's mouth. Then I noticed that the cat was not breathing.

Clearly, not the most positive start to the day. I took a closer look and saw that there were bite marks all over the cat. On its neck and legs I could see broken skin.

It was a handsome cat, white with gray striped ears and spots on its back.

My stomach started to heav, of course, so I ran back to the house and leaned against the door as I shouted up the stairs to Jeremy about what I had seen. Oliver came in through his window and I scooped him up and said 'That's why you stay inside at night!' and Jeremy called down 'That's why Oliver stays inside at night!' at the same time.

I finally let Oliver escape from my over protective clutches and looked up the number to the council so I could call them on my way to work to have the body removed. The lady I spoke to at the council was really friendly (kind of a shock) when I told her why I was calling she said, 'Oh someone will have a sad morning today.' I couldn't answer that because I hadn't yet thought about the little girl or old lady who was going to wake up without a cat today.

I heard lots of voices last night and I think I heard a dog. I heard what I thought were fox cries, but what if they were the last shouts of this poor cat and I just ignored them because I'm so used to the fox's mating calls (which are horrible, in case you were wondering).

I wanted to hide in my room today and not leave the house again. But I have meetings with Bigwigs this afternoon and dead cat on my sidewalk is not a valid reason for cancellation.

It should be though. Omens deserve our attention, if I learned anything from my Greek mythology class at Wayne State it was that. And watch out for libidinous swans.

Things I'm Doing These Days

1. Not drinking until the 13th of September at least. I had a rotten hangover this weekend and it made me decide to give the booze a break for awile. This Saturday will be my first challenge as Harvey and Paula are having a barbecue that is sure to involve copious amounts of Midori based cocktails. But I want to see how I feel after some extended time off from the hooch. I'm allowed to start again on the 13th because we'll be on holiday in Cornwall for a long weekend. But if I'm liking how I'm feeling maybe I won't.
2. Feeling excited about our new dining room table. It's round with a teak veneer and it is from either the decade I was born in or the one immediately before. It is sitting next to our dining room window and i can sit at it in the mornings and write.
3. Also feeling excited about our new LadderAx shelving units. They went into the second bedroom and the computer will sit on one of them and all our crap will go into their lovely drawers adn shelves and then there will be room for my typewriter. That will be cool as hell.
4. Trying to ignore the nausea I am starting to feel in my stupid stomach again.
5. Hating on my job but trying hard to wait and see how the changes my new boss has in mind work out.
6. Cuddling with Oliver whenever he is available for my attentions (I am clearly the needy member of our relationship, this morning he headbutted me awake and I nearly died of joy)
7. Trying not to sink any deeper into the PreMenstrual Malaise that trying to drag me down like the mud pit in Neverending Story.
8. Not winning at the moment.
9. Next will be better and if it isn't I will run away to someplace with gelato and waterbased public transportation.