Sunday, August 31, 2014

Long Live Love

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Quick Change Artist

I've been the shy girl, the gym girl, & the motorcycle girl. The Climber girl, the skier girl, the camping girl. The shooter, the Styler and the Re- Habber. I have worn many hats in this lifetime, and am an excellent Quick Change Artist. I am the first and the last one to say, You can't change a Cheetah's spots, and why would you want to. But I have lately been thinking about the universal phenomenon of morphing that one goes through when in a relationship.
Disagree with me? I call b.s.
 
Recently a gal and I were talking about a mutual friend of ours. This woman, divorced and in the dating scene, is going through a metamorphosis of her own. Depending on what day in is this damsel my be collecting the offering at Sunday Service, or swinging from a chandelier on a Friday night. Depending on who her date is.
 Don't mis- interpret this into me believing someone cannot change their interests. You absolutely can. However, you can watch what I'm talking about in action on any Given Sunday in America when professional football is playing. Suddenly someone who doesn't know what a first down is, is the first one to buy the team jersey in the pro shop with her new man. Or she's at home preparing a feast for fellow football watchers, all along feeling like she'd rather be watching Friends. And don't count me out on this. I too have succumb to stagnant television watching. Just before meeting P, I briefly saw someone that was a baseball Fanatic. A freakin' Fanatic! He insisted on watching every moment of every single game, and that grew real old, Real soon. Don't get me wrong, hand me a hot dog and a cute hat at the game and I'm IN. Park me on a sofa for 7 hours and this game is O-V-E-R.
 
When I met P, I was un-apologetically honest with him. A yellow caution sign figuratively was blinking over my head. He met me and I had a flask and a .40 in my handbag. It was a bit of a bender weekend! In any accord, I didn't have to be anyone but myself. I think it was a bit of a dare, that I didn't try to disguise myself myself as someone I wasn't. And I never felt compelled to. Sure, do I do things I may not have now that we share time together? Absolutely. Do I have still have my spots? Sure. And have I unloaded my handbag a bit? Definitely.
 
Let me leave you with a thought that stopped me dead in my tracks this week:(and I'm no Buddhist)
"The Buddhists say, if you meet someone and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that's Not the one. When you meet your "soul mate", you'll feel calm, no anxiety, no agitation".
Hhhmmm...

Sunday, August 24, 2014

I'm About Maxed Out

I've been wearing maxi dresses for the better 1/2 of 6 years.
"Yoga Pants without a crotch", yup, dead on. And if your a shorter gal like me, they Can be tricky. Luckily, I own (more than) a few pair of sky high wedge heels, and I can hem a dress in a few quick minutes. I stopped wearing nightgowns when I was 7, or about the time I became sick and tired of being mummified by the thing in the middle of the night. I'm beginning to have the same feeling about these dresses.
 
A few summers ago, after an afternoon at the Tiki bar, a friend of mine and I decide to get in the lake and go for a swim. Since I didn't have a suit on underneath,  I had to dive in my dress. A few short strokes later, I'm beginning to get towed under from the damn dress! Fairly inebriated, I start to freak out and tear the dress off. There I am, treading water, in my tighty whities(hardly)! My dress is at the bottom of the lake, and there's a bar full of people now audience to this act. There is No way I can walk out of this water! Luckily a 10 year old boy swims under with his trusty snorkel and retrieves my dress. Yes. This actually happened.
 
Girls will say, "Ohh they're Great, you just throw on and Go! You don't even have to shave your legs! They hide a multitude of flaws!" Nope. Nope. and Nope. Practical, yes, Comfortable, Yes. Go without shaving??! Hells No. If your anything like me, this Grasshopper has a bad habit of running her legs together, and if there's even a trace of stubble, in the shower I go. If I was a bettin' girl, I bet that guys secretly hate them. I feel like this is something I should have researched. What man do you know thinks an oversize pillowcase is captivating?
 
So today I wore the blue dress. I decided to give the maxi a Go again and run my day- off errands in the dress. This is the dress I wore years ago on one of the more memorable dates I had with P. It was in the middle of summer and we were on our way to dinner. About 5 months into knowing him, not even remotely open to thinking about 5 years later being married to him. And then, it hits me, we're driving and I suddenly think, "Ohh F*ck,,I think I like this guy", "I think I Really like this guy". I can remember this exact moment. Fast forward a year and a 1/2 of cat and mouse games later and we're coupled.
So I may be maxed out on maxi's, but out of all of them, I think need to keep, the most memorable one.
 
 

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

" How much Jewelry, , do you Have!?"

It came as a shock. I wasn't prepared for it at all. 
I have know P for 5 summers now. He has moved me 3 times in 5 years and he never once even uttered the words... Until tonight. As part of the ongoing Closet Creation I am doing, today was jewelry day. I have acquired a shocking amount of sparklers and it was time to get them in some sort of order.
 
My Grandmother and her sister were quite the collectors. It was always a great treat to go see them and be the recipient of some rubies and other rock stones. My own mother and sisters didn't seem to understand the affinity. These two girls had boxes and buckets of the baubles! My grandma's sister never had any children. She married Walter and they built a wonderful brick Cape Cod in northern Wisconsin. Walter worked for the Post Office and Mabel was a regular volunteer for the Humane Society. They both gave generously to their chosen cause and there are numerous monuments still in their name. She spent every last dollar she had on accessories and animals. I often wonder if my own attachment to animals comes from them. And now after tonight, I know the accessories have followed suit.
 
So today, I headed to the local Home Improvement store to get some supplies to store my sparklers.
I know after storing them multiple ways: clear Zip-Loc bags, using every doorknob and them some in the house, seeing what I have in inventory is Key! The inside door of my new dress closet, proved to be the perfect canvas for the new white pegboard. Up the boards went, and the jewelry followed, and followed,, and followed. And what came next, stopped me in my be-dazzeled tracks.
"How much jewelry, do you Have?" P asks. The look on my face must have said it all, because he quickly, corrected, and claimed he was kidding. Apparently the 3 times he moved me, the man had no idea the magnitude of metal I owned.
 
So take note fellas: As for hair color, age, and now jewelry, the old saying that I'm sure Walter wished on others reins effective today.
"A lady never tells, and a gentleman never asks"

Sunday, August 17, 2014

This is My Life with Coffee...: Giving Summer, the Boot

This is My Life with Coffee...: Giving Summer, the Boot: I I usually don't do many "fluff" pieces,,, but after last weeks Birthday post and some of the unnecessary, but completely...

Giving Summer, the Boot

I
I usually don't do many "fluff" pieces,,, but after last weeks Birthday post and some of the unnecessary, but completely Proving-my-Point backlash,, why not!?
We woke up this morning to a balmy 60 degree day. In August!! And to add insult to injury, this came immediately following a day spend mostly in our bathing suits in Lake Michigan. As part of my recent guest bedroom turned Closet Creation(pics in a later Post to follow) I needed to better my boot storage solution.
 
As a regular subscriber of a chosen few glossy magazines, I have a hard letting go some of my favorites. Anyone remember Blueprint magazine?? Or Cookie!!? The best! So I have successfully squirreled away in my trusty matching ottomans, the Ming Dynasty of magazines. 
I took some of the recent, and some not- so- recent rags and rolled those puppies upright and into the boots. 
P.S. Did I mention I Love the juxtaposition of Town & Country being in my Old Gringos? It's the kinda girl I am... 
I Love the way they're all lined up like toy soldiers in my dress closet! But it is Still August, and I may not be entirely ready to give Summer the Boot. My Gringo's however, will be ready to go for the first call from Fall.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Ruffle my Feathers

I should be more gracious. I really should. I believe that 90% of the time I may come off as such, but inside, know there is an inner turmoil brewing. I cannot stop thinking the things we are all thinking, and now cannot stop using this Blog as a vehicle to discuss such "things".
This week was, if you didn't already know my "birthday week". Yes, not "day", "week". It actually started last weekend when P and I got outta town for a few days. If you've ever known someone with a birthday in August, or been in a relationship with one, you'd know that Birthdays are a National Holiday round' here. And if you've ever known a Leo that Didn't like their birthday?? Well clearly there had to be Something wrong with them.
I will be the first to admit: I am the pressure cooker when it comes to expecting people to plan Something for the big day, err..week. Yes, I want the Ferris wheel, the circus And the balloons(mandatory). And on cue, every year, about a week to ten days before, I get outwardly very anxious about weather or Not my "special someone" is going to make as big of a deal out of it as I'm expecting there to be. I'm here to tell you: No One has Ever outdone themselves over my expectations. Just bein' honest. If it wasn't completely dis- heartening, I would plan my own party.(typical Leo control freak)
 
So the big day comes and I can almost hear the foul trumpet noise as my telephone starts buzzing...Yes, Here it comes, the Dreadful, the half-ass attempt, the almost mandatory "Happy Birthday" text. The TEXT!!!(I'm making that awful Charlie Brown sound) Only to be outdone by the "Merry Christmas, or "Happy Turkey Day" mass text. And because you re all so thoughtful, I get to see everyone's canned responses. 56 "you too" or "Nice" or "Thank you!" texts later I'm ready to permanently go back to house phones. Sending a text to someone for a holiday including a birthday is a true representation of the thoughtless individual you are. Yes, we all know your SSSoooo busy, you cannot possibly pick up the telephone, or,, send a card??What's that?
 
I'm known for my 4 minute voicemails, and I do believe also for my December 1st arrival of our Christmas card. I leave the extended voicemails, because, I Actually wanted you to hear my voice. I wanted to let you know how excited I was about something, or maybe just that I thought of you. If it takes me 4 minutes to enunciate that, does that make me a bad person, or just a serial voicemail-er? I hand make and mail Christmas cards, because It's What you do People!! And I only send out 30 because this isn't Facebook and I don't need 900 "Friends". And speaking of Facebook, sending someone a Facebook Happy Birthday is Just as half-assed. Thanks Zuckerberg, for giving us all a reminder, that people we Really don't like have been born, and we want them to know we wish them a Happy Birthday, and we want other people to see how many other people wanted them to know that as well. Stupid.
 
My own sister And P send me the Happy Birthday text. I graciously thanked my sister for adding to the ammunition for a future blog post. She reminded me that she doesn't voicemail or send cards. She just e- mails and texts. I congratulated her on her developed skill set of communication and what a wretched human she must be to talk to. Next time there comes a holiday in your life, do us all a favor, and actually speak to the people you Really care about. "I really should have sent that text" Said No One, ever.
 As you can see, my feathers have been more ruffled discussing this topic, than the layers on the buttercream cake that my Mom made herself, for me, on my Birthday. No text included.