Nectar of the Gods

I probably have too many pictures of mochas on my computers...








But here is my all time favorite:

A self-portrait taken while he was home "sick" from work

Either Way it is from a Bottle

So I am blond-ish. I've been blond my entire life and I am the only blond in the family. When I turned thirty-ish, my hair began to turn the dark brown, like my brothers. My brothers are dark haired and darker skinned. I am a freak in the family. Ugh. Not happy with that at all.

If my hair were to turn from blond to gray, I would be okay with that. But from blond to brown with gray? Not. So. Much.

I've tried to grow out my hair to see just how dark it really is but I often tap out quickly. I just can't get used to it. That and growing out colored hair just looks like hell.

And then, right before we left for Vegas I was considering it. Seriously. Like, go to the store and buy the stuff seriously.

I still haven't crossed it off my list. Here's the plan, if there ever such a thing as a plan in my life. In the summer I used the lightest color available:


And then I use this, which is just the next step darker. Not that you can tell. Also, my hair has gotten darker so it's taken more blond & time to get it blond.



So my plan is to just gradually increase the color until I can't stand it anymore. If I'm not careful, orange/red highlights will come out. Not a good color on me. But this is what I am considering:



My fear is that I'm light-skinned, transparent really. And Dark Eyed. So, the risk of imitating the glamorous looks of Morticia Adams is a factor. I can't find a current picture of me as I am the picture taker of the family so you'll have to use your imagination.

Here's the other thing: Kevin's ex-wife is dark-haired. So, I should probably discuss this plan with him, huh? No need freaking him out unnecessarily.

Here is the website for hair color. It's kind of fun to play with.

Bookmarks

I use a long, red ribbon for a bookmark. I got it when I did a course about reading to children back in the day when I did such things.

It's the perfect bookmark as it's RED thus visible. And it's long so I can wrap it in the book so it rarely falls out. It is by far the bookmark I've had the longest.

Kevin bought me a brass bookmark a few years ago and while lovely, not functional. In fact, I am not even sure where it is now.

Another item I've used as bookmarks include the pit pass from the racetrack. It is playing card sized and brightly colored. I've used an actual playing card as well.

Once I bought a used book and found an airplane ticket stub from New York. I loved that one! It had a story, a history to it.

What do you use?

Walton Family Thanksgiving

if it aired on Cinemax...

My little brother's birthday is today. Unfortunately his birthday usually gets lumped into Thanksgiving. This year was no exception.

So we finished dinner & the dishes then sat down so he could open presents. He's easy to shop for: he wants for nothing. Gift cards is the norm. I always "hide" them in a book with candy.

Apparently, Brother Dear decided that was a good idea. He added a little novelty car to his present. The little sports car vibrates like it's running.

When you open presents in the Moore household, you pass along the birthday cards and presents so everyone can oooh and aahh over them.

Mom was the last one in the group to see the presents. When my brother handed her the little car (now that I think of it: because Kevin didn't, what a chicken) she was startled by the vibration. "What the hell is that?" she asked.

My brothers giggled like thirteen-year-old boys and one said "It's before her time."

Oh.
My.
God.

Happy Birthday Little Brother!

Happy Thanksgiving Y'all

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.
It turns what we have into enough, and more.
It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow. ~Melody Beattie

Badges of Honor

My dad always called scars badges of honor. It is perhaps why I am not worried about scars I carry.

My friend Ha was cutting my hair the other day and mentioned that her husband just noticed that she had two moles on her chin. She was amazed that he hadn't noticed before. Kevin was waiting while I got my hair cut so I tested him. "Kev? Where do I have a scar?"

He immediately knew: "It's on your lip. Duh."

I have a fairly decent scar on my upper lip that is kind of jagged from left nostril to right-ish corner of my lip. I don't remember when I got it but rumor has it I was playing with my brothers and fell when I was two years old.

I don't notice it anymore. Being "blessed" with Irish skin, I don't tan much. It fades in the winter, shows a little more in the summer and it is not as if it is the first thing you notice about my appearance.

Even if it were, I wouldn't change it. I earned that scar.

That's why the new medicine ads that profess making scars disappear bother me. There is nothing wrong with scars. Every one tells a story. Every one is a part of how you came to be the person you are. Sure there are scars that are quite unfortunate that should be fixed if possible. But the scars in these ads are from normal childhood injuries.

Once when I was having hearing issues, an ENT doctor looked closely at my face. "Hmmm" he said "I can fix that."

"Fix what?" I asked, trying to think WTF he was talking about. What is on my face that would fix my hearing?

"Your scar. A quick laser treatment and it would be nearly gone."

"No" was my immediate answer. In fact, I was a little offended.

Badges of Honor. My dad didn't give me a lot in this life but he did give me that.

What scars do you have? Would you change them?

Hibernation

In some ways, I feel like the lyrics of Katy Perry's "Waking Up in Vegas." I don't know what it is about that town that makes sleep feel sinful. In 5.5 days, I don't think I got 20 hours of sleep.

I slept in this morning, I did not much of anything today. I don't have much planned for the next five days. After an incredibly busy 2009, I am ready to wind down. I'm ready to wallow in the tiredness.

It's time for hibernation. I have a stack of books, an ever-growing DVR list, and weather that allows quality time with the couch.

What are your plans for winter?

Home of the Loud Family

Everyone has a place that they feel at home: church, studio, theatre, workplace. What defines home, for me, is a place where you can 100% relax, connect, and feel...well, to go all Oprah on you: Centered.

So, one of the loudest places on the planet is my center. For me, it's where everything fades away, where everyone knows my name, where I can breathe. (yes, I totally see the contradiction in that)

The racing community is fairly insular. Racers are friends and friends are racers. Many racers stay at the racetrack so everyone is together for a 48 hour period, at least, for many weekends over the spring, summer & fall seasons. If one racer has a problem, it often becomes a shared burden.

Because we've been racing the Seattle organization, we haven't seen our Canadian friends as much as we would like. When racing at our "home" track, I felt like Norm in Cheers while walking the lanes. Familiar faces & friends everywhere.

When we raced in Las Vegas last year & just now, I discovered that it's actually the community of racers rather than the location of racers. Although just about every racer we know was at the race this weekend, we still made another handful of friends.

Kevin has a friend that lives in Missouri whom he has spent hours on the telephone & internet but hasn't actually met in person. Because of him, Kevin met two other racers this weekend, further cementing their friendship. While thinking about it, I guess one could relate the racing community to Facebook...friend suggestions, friend searches, and friending complete strangers.

So now begins the long winter. We won't be back at the track until Spring, April at the earliest. Time for hibernation is upon us. In the meanwhile, we have the phone and internet to keep in touch.

When the sun comes around again, I can soak up the warmth of it, and of my friends, at home.

Flannel, it's not just for winter

I hate hotel sheets. I swear, next time I stay in a hotel I'm bringing my own sheets.

Bleached cotton sheets are just so uncomfortable to me. I had them as a child so one would think I would be comfortable in them. However, the sheets I had a child were probably nearly transparent by the time they were handed down to me.

We've stayed everywhere from a Stouffer-Madison hotel to a Motel 6. Scratchy cotton sheets abound.

If not cotton sheets, then what, you ask?

We have flannel sheets 24/7/365. I also like the t-shirt material sheets.

I just don't think there are many more things as cozy as flannel sheets. Even when it's warm outside, I just take a few blankets off the bed. I love being surrounded by the softness of the sheets. Then add the weight of extra blankets and a lovely cocoon is to be had.

What sheets do you love best?

Did Not

Due to high winds and the over-riding sense of self preservation, I did not go on the Big Shot Ride on top of the Stratosphere.

The high winds made the tower sway and you could feel it while we were still inside. While outside, I felt like if I stepped too close to the railing, I would find myself in the Wonderful World of OZ. 900 feet in the air is not the place a person needs to be while the wind is whipping at 40 MPH.

Now, I never said I WOULD go on the ride, just that I would Consider it. I think that idea was a momentary lapse of sanity. The moment I was on that tower again, I had a moment of clarity: I really don't need to tempt fate, or die, or lose any of my bodily functions in front of a crowd of people.

However, so you don't think I'm a total coward: I did go on the New York New York roller coaster.

Holy. Mother. Of. God.

Here's a video I snitched from YouTube. Or here from the casino website.

I seriously don't know when I've been so terrified/nervous/amused in all my life. Not even blowing up compares to this ride.

Five of us rode it. Me, Kevin, Nephew and two Canadian friends. Here are snippets that I heard during the three minute ride:

"Who's idea was this anyway?"

"This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea."

"I will give you fifteen dollars to get OFF RIGHT FUCKING NOW."

"Is that heaven?"

"I wasn't smiling" and "Go back, I blinked" when the flashes for the pictures went off.

If you're ever in Vegas, it is a requirement to ride this ride. It's life affirming.

Dad is LOL'ing

We've been having some terrible windstorms lately. Pouring down rain, lightning, high winds. All my least favorite things...well, except the rain. I don't mind the rain.

With this lovely weather we're having comes small electrical issues. Lights flickering, clocks needing resetting, etc. Even my cell was acting a little wonky.

Kevin & I were watching television the other night. I was also reading so I wasn't paying 100% attention to what was going on. Eventually, I did notice that the volume kept adjusting.

As I had the remote, I was a little suspicious. I made sure that it hadn't fallen & gotten pressed accidentally. I looked over to Kevin to make sure he wasn't playing with the other remote. (the old remote to the actual television buried in the drawer next to his chair) He wasn't. In fact, he was kind of napping until the dog woke him up then they were playing.

So, I gave it a few minutes, surreptitiously casting glances toward Kevin to make sure he wasn't just messing with my head.

Finally, I could see both of his hands and the volume went up again.

"Um, Kev? I think my dad might be f*&king with the the television. Or it's broken."

I KNEW I had been rope-a-doped when Kevin is laughing so hard he can't breath. "I think...*gasp*....I think....*guffaw*....I think I just peed myself."

Mother-F$%ker.

I wasn't Scared but it did freak me out a little because I thought I saw both of his hands at all times. Clearly, he's more devious than I.

In between giggles, he apologized for freaking me out. "But I NEVER thought you'd think it was your Dead Dad."

Somewhere, my Dad is laughing his ass off.

I Don't Support PETA but

However, I might consider it now:

Because c'mon. Seriously.

Vegas Bound

By noon today, I will be properly ensconsced in our hotel room. See that Space Needle-like tower in the background? Yeah, that's where I'll be for the next five days.

Peace out!

Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap....

Our bags are packed & on their way. Our carry-on is packed & ready. God knows Kevin was ready a week ago. I feel stuck in a time warp, I hate waiting.

The dog is starting to realize that something is up. I took her to the coffee stand this morning for treats. She looked at me like 'What are we DOING? it's a weekday!" All I said was "Tomorrow you'll understand..."

The jury is still out on the Stratosphere ride. I will blog/tweet/FB the end result. I have a feeling that "Thunderbirds are a Go." An interesting note: Kevin has tapped out. It's between the nephew and me now.

I will have posts ready to go so don't think I'm spending my vacation blogging...although you can bet I'll be taking notes for future reference. Also, the laptop & my handy Verizon Wireless Internet is coming along so anything is possible.

Long Distance Friendships

Our friend Steve is Canadian. He lives nearly two hours away and we only see him at the racetrack. You would never know as Kevin and he talk for hours on the telephone. I don't know how many times I've heard Kevin say "I wish we lived closer, we'd be such good friends." (or my favorite: "I couldn't get a word in edgewise!" Yeah, it was all Steve, Kevin.)

Anyway, I'm off topic, big surprise.

Miguel and Mario came down to hang with the boys a few weeks ago. They live just across the border, only about an hour away. I love having them here. I hate that it's so rare that we see them at our house.

Crossing the border is easier these days with our enhanced driver's licenses but it is still a hassle. Because border wait times vary wildly and while you can attempt to plan, you can still end up sitting for up to an hour. If you get a woman border guard, holy hell, it takes even longer. (I'm not being sexist, this is common knowledge from most anyone who regularly crosses the border) It's actually easier to travel to Seattle, which is further & has worse traffic, than it is to travel 45 minutes north.

It's just so frustrating that we have all these friends that live so far away & are separated by what Steve calls an aribitrary line in sand.. And this isn't counting our friends that live in Dawson Creek. (no, not in tv-land, the actual Dawson Creek :-)

On the flip side, we have wondered if perhaps the distance is why we enjoy our friends so much. When time spent together is special and infrequent, there is no time for pettyness, annoyances, or idiosyncrasies to arise.

The Tale of Three Dogs

I swear Swistle is clairvoyant. Her post about whether or not to get another cat(s) has verbalized something I have been thinking about lately.

Missy is about nine years old. While not a really old dog, she's starting to slow down. Kevin watched Marley & Me the other morning and mentioned the end...the literal end of the movie and the literal end of the dogs life.

I think I would like to have two dogs. I think it would be more fun for the dogs and more fun for us. But I wouldn't necessarily want two puppies. And I don't think Missy would tolerate having a puppy in the house. I think she'd be all "Peace out, bitches" and moving down to Bruce's house.

Oh, here's a story that will make you cry. Bruce used to have a dog named ShitHead, because IT WAS. It was the most anti-social, neurotic dog I've ever met. It didn't like Kevin. All dogs like Kevin. It didn't like other dogs really either. While she liked our old dog Aussie, she seemed to almost enjoy Missy the Puppy Version.

Bruce couldn't find ShitHead one day. He looked and called and looked. Missy came down for a visit while we were at work and Bruce told her "I can't find ShitHead. Go find ShitHead."

And she did.

And she went to get Bruce to show him.

Shithead had died in the woods, not far from the driveway.

Ever since then, Missy visits Bruce daily. Often she'll go down & just hang out. In fact, Bruce leaves his door unlatched so she can come in anytime she wants. For awhile there, Kevin was getting hurt/frustrated because Missy was never home anymore.

But after awhile, she began spending more time at home again.

Then Bruce, who was a brakeman for BNSF Railroad, nearly ran over a batch of puppies on the tracks. All got off except one.

And we named him Lucky. Because, really? What other name is going to fit?

Lucky is the sweetest black lab mix you'll ever meet. His job is to sit on you. That's all. He is everyone's dog. If he could talk he would say "Hi, my name is Lucky. I'm just happy to be here."

Missy was resentful of the new puppy for awhile but she eventually got over it. They became buddies that roamed the properties freely.

But now, Missy is aging and Lucky is all "Hey, let's go run over there!"

And Missy is all "Why? I'm perfectly comfortable here, thanks."

So, Lucky is bummed out because his buddy is too old or tired to play anymore.

And that's why we're thinking about getting another dog.

Wheedle, How I Love Thee

Bethany at Striving to be Bold mentioned a few of her favorite childhood things the other day.

She listed a few books and one was the Boxcar Children. I audibly gasped when I saw it. I loved those books So Much as a kid.

Then tonight the local news advertised a feature on the Wheedle on the Needle. It was an immediate reminder of my childhood. I believe I still have the book tucked away in Monica's closet. I may have to go dig it out.

The What on the Where?

The Wheedle on the Needle

It's local folklore so many of you probably have no idea what I'm referring to. All I can say is go to Amazon and order it. I don't even care if you have kids or not.

It was set in Seattle, it was brightly illustrated just the way I liked when I was little, and it told a story with a small, non-pushy lesson. Serendipity Books was the publisher and they had a series of children's books. They were eco-friendly before it was cool.

Wheedle was always my favorite though. I mean, look:

How can you not love this face?

Just a Suggestion

It's another post about the ever growing, living thing that is Facebook.

Ah, Friend Suggestions, how I love thee...

You've suggested the following people to be my friends specifically:

Former Boss aka The Evil One.

Former employees, some of whom I fired back in the day when I did such things.

Kevin's ex-wife (that one is a winner, for sure. Only to be topped by her actual request)

The girl Michael slept with while we were married. (we went to high school together)

The guy that professed his love for me during a football game by screaming it across the stands.

A guy I dated, for a minute, after Michael, on the down-low, who is now a FBI agent.

Someone who I know spent time in jail...both female & male.

Former Friend who was in jail for heinous crimes. And her grown daughter.

Former Next Door Neighbor when I was married to Michael, whom I'm sure was a dealer but now apparently has found God and naturopathic meds.

And so many Lisa's that I need my yearbook to determine if it's the Lisa I knew or the Lisa I hated.

The other *fun* discovery is when you're browsing, okay, snooping, around your friends friends and you find people. Most of the time I think "Oh no, please don't notice we're friends. Please don't make me hit the ignore button."

Who have you discovered on the magical Facebook?

Might

We're on the countdown for our trip. This time next week, we will be in Vegas, baby.

I've been to Vegas twice now. Kevin has been a few times prior to that. Each time, the rides on top of the Stratosphere are discussed and watched with horrifying delight. Click HERE for a glimpse.

There are three rides. Two of which terrify me simply by watching. Seriously. Terrifying.

The third ride might be something that I can do. MIGHT. Might. M.I.G.H.T.

Might.

Kevin has already said he'd do it if I did it. I think he's full of it. The in-laws are big ussy-pays so I know there's no threat there. However, The Nephew. The Nephew has thrown a challenge.

I may have to go on this ride:

It doesn't look so bad does it? It's just a simple free fall ride. No big deal.

A little detail:
The tower is 1149 feet tall total. The Observation Deck is at 869 feet and the ride is on top of it.

But I think I can get my brain worked around it. I think I can convince myself that it's not a death defying act.

Although while looking up the above information, I discovered something. In order to ride the ride: $27.95.

I don't think I can justify that amount for a one minute ride. Unfortunately, I have the kind of family that would, if not take the money out of their own pockets, would solicit donations from innocent bystanders. So y'all need to not tip them off, mmkay?

We'll see. That is where I'm leaving my decision. We'll see when we get up there.

And just in case you needed a better visual, go to the hotel website or just peek at the next picture:

Thank a Veteran Today

"To all of them — to our veterans, to the fallen and to their families — there is no tribute, no commemoration, no praise that can truly match the magnitude of your service and your sacrifice," President Barack Obama



“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that
the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”
–John Fitzgerald Kennedy

These Dreams..

I can't take aspirin before bedtime because they give me the wildest dreams. It took me a bit to figure it out and aspirin was the only common denominator.

Like I mentioned on Halloween, I've started the Blood Brothers series of books and it has some dark imagery. I try not to read it before bed but unfortunately, that's when I read.

I don't usually have scary dreams. I do have stress dreams, which are always a joy. I've had deja-vu-ish kind of dreams in the past, or would that be in the future?

But the most recent one was odd, felt very real, yet was clearly a dream.

I was married to Kevin, but we were living in my parents house. It had been slightly remodeled inside but it was definitely their house. My dad was alive but my mother wasn't. And, we had teen-aged sons: one dark haired like Kevin and one blond like me. They were in their teens, as our children would have been had I not miscarried.

I told Kevin about it and after he got over living with my dad, he said "Well, our kids would have been that age" offering a little validity to the dream. It was like a little glimpse into Alternate Reality.

What was one of your most memorable dreams?

Dream Jobs

I have two dream jobs. I'm sure I could think of more but let's just not go there.

The first job was an opportunity I turned down when I was much younger. It was a radio job. It's one of the few times where I wistfully wonder what-if I'd taken the job. I was doing public service announcements for an organization I volunteered for and was eventually interviewed for said organization. Thus the job offer.

It was just a local, small town radio station but I would have done the morning news, color commentary, etc. Kind of like Robin on the Howard Stern show but on a much, much, much smaller scale. And with farm reports instead of strippers.

At the time, I was still young in the school administrator job and loving it. So turning it down at the time wasn't a huge issue. Also, it was so early in the morning to start and I knew I couldn't do it. 4:30 in the morning is just inhumane. The bow on the decision was a requirement for "live remotes" which meant I would be at openings of stores, restaurants, gas stations, etc. and working weekends. No thanks.

But it was So Much Fun being behind the mic & on the radio. That I could so get into.

Talking to Rosie on her test show made me remember that job like it happened yesterday.

Someday. Maybe.

Oh, and the other job? I'm kind of doing it, just not the way I want to: writer. So, I guess I only have one Dream Job if we go by the strict definition.

Four Years

November 9 2005

When I started this blog thing, we had been in our new house about three months. I was unhappy with the school job, and 2005 had beaten the hell out of us in every way possible.

Kevin was asleep in his chair, exhausted from moving, landscaping, and carpentry plus his regular job. I had just written BFF K an email and my head was still full.
On a whim, I searched for how-to-blog ideas.

And so it started.

"Just a Bunch of Silliness, Really" is a line from Finding Neverland with Johnny Depp. It wasn't the first title of the blog, and you know I can't remember the original title now.

What started as a whim has become a habit, a lifeline, and a relationship. It's given me more than I ever anticipated or even understand.

How did you start your blog? How did you choose the name?

EPIC FAIL

No, really, EPIC.

So, my BFF's birthday was, holy crap, almost two moths ago. While I remembered to send a card & email, I've failed miserably on sending her a present.

I know, I know, I know! I SUCK.

So my penance is admitting it publicly. And letting her know that it's because I suck and only because I suck is the reason I missed sending a present.

Dear BFF K,

I publicly apologize for forgetting to follow through on your birthday present. I Suck.

I suck so badly that the light from Suck World can't reach me.

Keep your eye on the mailbox over the next week or so. This will hopefully redeem me in your eyes.

Meanwhile: MUAH!

One Down, One to Go

WASHINGTON DC- Triumphant Democrats passed landmark health care legislation in the House late Saturday night, spurred by a summons from President Barack Obama to "answer the call of history" and expand coverage to millions who lack it.

"...that opportunities like this come around maybe once in a generation.... This is their moment, this is our moment, to live up to the trust that the American people have placed in us..." "I urge members of Congress to rise to this moment. Answer the call of history, and vote yes for health insurance reform for America," ~ President Barack Obama

"It provides coverage for 96 percent of Americans. It offers everyone, regardless of health or income, the peace of mind that comes from knowing they will have access to affordable health care when they need it," said Rep. John Dingell, the 83-year-old Michigan lawmaker who has introduced national health insurance in every Congress since succeeding his father in 1955.

Now it's time for the Senate to step up & do the right thing. Call or email your senator Monday.

Yes. We. Can.

George is Dead

If you watch Grey's Anatomy, you understand the title reference...if not, I'll explain later.

It's been three months since my dad passed away. Life as I know it has returned to normal. It's a relief not to have my cell phone in my possession 100% of the time, or to have constant pressure to call or visit, or the constant dread of the unknown. Family gatherings will hopefully not be tension filled. Everyone can finally just chill.

It's odd when the person who has passed is someone in which you have a difficult relationship. The rules don't necessarily apply in this case. In a terrible-ish way, it’s such a relief. It as if someone is just slowly letting the pressure out of your life and you can finally breathe. It also resolves so many issues: what to do when the loved one is old/sick, how to deal with visits & calls, guilt over not being there for X, Y or Z, the disconnected relationships, the unresolved issues.

So, in a zippy little twist, Swistle's mother-in-law dies. Suddenly I have a buddy in the "Isn't this Weird?" Club.

Grief is different for every person. Every person has to experience it to understand because you just can't predict how you'll handle it. I think there’s been such a focus on grieving and feeling your feelings that we’re programmed to think we should be feeling a, then b, then c.

But I think it’s such an individual thing and I think until you’re In It, you can’t guess or plan how you’re going to feel. You just got to breathe your way through it.

Oh, that’s right. The George is Dead reference. This season's first episode of Greys is where George actually died. One of the last scenes of the episode shows Cristina lying down at the end of a long day and weeks after Georges death. Suddenly the realization dawns on her and she turns, saying incredulously: “George is dead.”

Yeah. That’s how it feels.

So here’s to the dear Swistle: *Quaff*

NoNaNoWriMo

While catching up with an old friend, he encouraged me to stay in touch regularly. "Because writers write." Thanks Paul.

The statement was equally encouraging and discouraging, as I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.

Why not, you ask?

Fall/Winter is here so Kevin is in the house much more than usual, which translates to the laptop being in use.

I still have my office but the furry teenager, that poses as our dog, seriously resents me being in her room. And it begs my favorite question "What're doing?" from Kevin. I usually reply "Baking a cake."

I'm feel like I'm in limbo until we go to Vegas. I'm having difficulty concentrating on much else once I get home. For instance, "I have to remember to stop the mail" or "I have to find the nearest grocery store to the hotel." And obsessing about the packing thing. Seriously, I should just start packing now and get it over with. But then I would be wearing clothing that the fashion police will cite me for wearing with sneakers. And I'm pretty sure I can't fit into my wedding dress anymore.

Not to mention the doggone shower adventure. Ugh. It looks like it will be about $400 to buy a new unit plus having the bathroom torn up for a weekend. Not bad in the grand scope of things, I realize but still a little traumatizing.

Tonight adds high wind gusts and pouring down rain. The lights have flickered so you'll know what happened if the blog ends like th

hahahahah. I make myself laugh if nothing else.

I was going to try NaNoWriMo this month. That's how Sunday Fiction first began but it's just not going to happen. Especially since it''s already the fifth of November now. And really, who am I kidding? I leave for a week in two weeks then the holiday. Unrealistic expectations much?

Also, I have lost THREE CHAPTERS of Sunday fiction. I know! I'm SO Frustrated. It's very much not like me so that ups the whole frustration factor to, like, a gabillion. I know it happens eventually to every writer but it doesn't make me any happier.

You may have noticed that I took the Sunday Fiction tab off the blog. When I re-write the lost chapters and get some more finished, I will return it to it's place of honor.

Three chapters...jeez....just when the main character discovered she was a vampire.

Ha ha. Kidding again.

These are a few of my favorite things...

So, I got nothing today but I'm posting every day so here you go.

This photograph is taken by a friend, whom I've never met. He's Paul Grant and he's a track photographer at Mission Raceway. He is originally from Britain, spent time in the states, and now lives in British Columbia.

I have talked to him via email & internet. We're sure we've seen each other, if not spoken, at the racetrack. My friend Mig said that I know who he is, in an incredulous tone that I sometimes hear in my life. I think it's a little funny that we don't know each other yet we're a fan of each others photography. Mine more than his, of course.

This was taken at Mission Raceway during sunset (duh, firegirl) and the home of the BEST doughnut holes I have ever eaten. So three of my favorite things, plus coffee. And cars. Whatever with the counting thing, I just love this picture.

Cracked or Broken

So, our fiberglass shower floor cracked. No, we weren't in there together, you silly people. It's a shower stall that when we were designing the bathroom, they referred to it as a "coffin shower". Probably not the best marketing tool ever. So two people in the shower is not going to happen.

The floor cracked, it's about a four inch crack. Upon further inspection, there was a smaller crack next to the drain. Nice. Perfect.

Kevin said that he thought he could fix it himself. He has limited experience with fiberglass, however he is super-diligent about keeping the house in good condition. "I'll send Dad over to take a look at it." he says.

"Um, does he have to right this very second?" I ask.

"Why?" he asked.

OF COURSE the shower needed to be scrubbed. Usually I wash it every other weekend but I was lazy and had skipped it. My pride wouldn't allow me to say "Sure, have your dad check it out."

So, bless him, Kevin told his dad that they would look at it over the weekend, giving me a chance to scrub it clean. Unfortunately, it would be cleaner if I could get into the doggone thing and really scrub it but I have to choose my battles.

Wow, I'm really off topic here.

WIKI-HOW explained how to fix the cracks in what I perceived as a mocking tone. "It's so EASY, just follow the steps." Fortunately, I don't believe everything I read on the internet.

It turned into the chicken or the egg debate. Why did it crack? If it was just regular wear & tear or an accident such as dropping something then the crack can be repaired. If it cracked due to deterioration or lack of support, the it has to be done professionally. If the floor needs repaired, then the whole shower piece has to come out and if you take the whole thing out then you might as well replace it versus repairing it. UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We decided to make sure it was a good idea to check into having it professionally repaired before dis-assembling the shower stall and doing it ourselves. Trying to find someone to fix the fiberglass is a challenge. What is it with people not returning phone calls?



Finally, we spoke to a contractor who is located an hour away. Their bid was $200 to look at it and possibly repair it. But most likely, it was going to be closer to $800. Yeah. No. I'd rather just use the common folk bathroom forever.

Kevin phoned someone else then phoned someone else. Three days later we finally got a return phone call. "Sure, I can. How about Tuesday?"
"How much, do you think?" Kevin asked.
"Oh, I'm between jobs now so it will be....*dramatic pause*...$200."

Not great, right before a trip, but not unattainable.

This morning I scrubbed the bathroom, removed the rugs, and made sure the house was spiffy in happy anticipation of his arrival.

I went to work & promptly forgot about the shower. About an hour later, Kevin phoned. "Yeah, he can't do it."

Ah sh*t.

The whole thing needs replacing. We're looking at $800 - $1,000 if we have the contractor do it.

Back to square one. We have to find the exact same shower stall to replace it so we're not stuck with major renovations in a four-year-old house. Warranty, you ask? Yeah, missed it by about six months.

Guess we're not using the master bath for awhile. Could be worse, it could be the old house that had only one bathroom. But it's still a bummer.

Short and Fickle

Fall in Washington State is short & fickle, kind of like me. One month ago it was sunny & beautiful, a late summer-ish day. Today, I drove home in the dark & rain. I can usually walk to the mailbox every night after work but not so much now. Three days ago I did and was caught in a gnarly downpour.

Fall visits for only a moment here. Just when we notice how beautiful fall can be, here comes the wind and rain.We had a windstorm a few days ago so any of the beautiful fall colors you see in these photographs is pretty much gone now.



However, I shouldn't complain much. My friends in Dawson Creek, Canada have had snow for about one month now.

17 Days

We leave for Vegas in 17 days. So of course, insomnia has kicked in. Lovely.

Last night, I was fixated on packing. Yes, I know, it's SEVENTEEN days. I have time.

Here's the problem:

Our suitcases actually leave three days earlier than our flight. My father-in-law & nephew are taking my brother-in-law's racecar down to Vegas so we're sending out suitcases ahead of time to avoid checking luggage.

Now, do the math with me and point out any errors I may be making:

I need five and one half days of clothing in Vegas: Wednesday we travel - arriving in Vegas at 9 am, we're in Vegas Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and leave mid-day Monday.
Our luggage leaves Monday morning ahead of us and returns Wednesday, two days after us.

I have three pairs of jeans that fit because I'm still shrinking. That leaves a few pairs of cords which I'm thinking is going to be a poor choice for Vegas. (:-D Black slacks, ditto. I've already decided that Wednesday & Monday (travel days) I'm going to wear khaki dockers. I guess I'll have to buy at least one more pair of Levi's. Because spending money before a vacation & the holidays = fun. (I couldn't plan ahead because I've lost two sizes)

And I need new sneakers. There is so much walking at the track, let alone in Vegas that new shoes are a requirement. (and what more clearly says "Hello, I'm a tourist! than new sneakers?)

And I need new socks. I need these just without traveling. And underwear...

Then let's think about cosmetics and toiletries. I have to double-up everything. Makeup, hair products, curling iron, etc, etc. Hello Target, don't let me down.

Then we have Kevin. He already has new sneakers but I think he needs one more pair of Levi's too. (the planning ahead thing applies here though) Luckily, he has eleventy hundred t-shirts so that's not a problem. Socks & underwear = yes, of course. I guess Target will remind me of what he also needs.

If we had credit cards, I would so find the nearest Target in Vegas & just buy all new stuff. But then this is a good example as to why we don't have credit cards.