Lady of Leisure

AH. I have had a very nice day. One day of the year, I am completely frou frou. Today was it. Here's how my day went:
6.30: Let Millie out.
8.30: Drive through Caffino for a Caramel Latte. Yum!
9.00: Blue River Canyon--I go into this little room for my facial and mud wrap. Laying on the table are two things roughly the size of Q-tips. They're paper, well, for lack of a better word, I'll call them underwear. They do stretch out some, but not a whole lot. Chicky-poo comes back in the room and slathers me with mud. Now, I thought it would feel kind of gross, but it really didn't. It is quite warm. So I'm all mudded up and she procedes to wrap me as one would filling in a burrito. No kidding, I was wrapped in like 6 blankets. Being completely incapacitated, she then begins my facial. It lasted for, hm, I would guess an hour. I have no idea. I have lost all sense of space and time by this point. After the facial, she wipes most of the mud off and I go into this little room for a Hydrotherapy bath. I find it to be more like a sensory deprivation chamber. Still not knowing what time it is or if armageddon has begun, I soak in the bath for quite some time. Oh, and they put little chocolates and bottled water by the tub for you. mmm. I have to say that I did get a little bored in the tub. Had I but had a glass of merlot and my Diana Gabaldon book, I think I might still be in it. At long last, some mean woman comes over the intercom in my room and tells me it's time to get out. So I get out and start getting dressed. Sigh. Why did it have to end?
11.30: Holy spa treatments, Batman! That lasted 2 1/2 hours!! I then hand over a kidney, my left arm, and my first born child as payment. It was well worth it.
11.35: Hm. I have some time to kill. I'll just bebop my way over to Wonder Nails for a mani and pedi. Sandy is excited to see me. She is even more excited that I actually let her use the razor blade on my feet. (You would have been proud, Vick!)
12.45: Yep, still have time. What is that across the street? Miyako? Sushi sounds good! I treat myself to some deliciousness and a glass of wine. mmm, again...
1.20: Crikies! Now I'm running late. I was supposed to get my hair done at 1.15. Oh, well, good thing Wendy is always running behind. As I'm sitting under the dryer whilst the highlighting gook takes effect on my incredibly dark roots, I read, for the first time in a decade, Seventeen magazine. Wow. I'm glad I'm not a teenager. To put the icing on the cake that is my day, Wendy shampoos me extra long. TWICE! I'm a big fan of anyone rubbing my head, but Wendy is the best.
3.30: I stop by Kroger and the liquor store for ingredients for dinner.
6.00: (Yeah, I did a fat lot of nothing between times.) I start making dinner for myself, Amanda and Mary. I LOVE to cook. Tonight's menu consisted of steak (can't claim them, Kev made 'em), hash browns, sauteed mushrooms in a port wine sauce, and broccoli with peppers and feta. Because feta makes it betta.
7-ish: After dinner, we start getting down to the nitty gritty of planning our trip to England this summer (July 1-11). Now I've already had a fantastic day, and I really don't deserve more good stuff, but we learned just today that Bob Geldof is planning a Live 8 concert in London. July 2. It's free. I just found out that you do have to have tickets for the London show, but all I have to say is yea scalpers.
10:50: I am now done typing up my day and ruminating on the goodness therein. Tomorrow, I clean.

BHH

I am home this weekend for Memorial Day. Last night, my parents' friends cooked out and had us over for dinner. My parents' friends are HILARIOUS so naturally I jumped at the chance to go spend an evening with them. We went over, fixed our plates and then segregated--boys in the dining room, girls in the den. We had a much better time than the men thanks in large part to stories Martha told of her husband's family.
It all started earlier in the day when I said I was going to wear my elastic pants to Jane's since she makes huge quantities of food. Dad asked why I would wear plastic pants and it all went downhill from there. Mom told us about Denton's Aunt Clendell who, not wanting to deal with her husband's incontinence, would cinch a Hefty sack around his waist and put him on the couch. Seriously. This conversation came up at dinner and Martha was able to add valuable details. Such as, no, Aunt Clendell didn't cut leg holes for him as that would have defeated the purpose (apparently, Depends had not yet been invented). Anne asked if he moved around like in a potato sack race. We weren't sure he did all that much moving. Many more ribald jokes were made and the conversation ended with this:
LInda: Is he still with us?
Martha: No.
Chorus of 5 Southern Women: (sigh) Bless His Heart.

Awesome. Did it end there, you ask? No. This is the same side of the family that, refusing to put Mama Kay in the nursing home, would load her up (hospital bed and all) in a flat bed truck and move her from basement to basement so that the siblings could take care of her. And, yes, one of those siblings was Aunt Clendell. Bless Her Heart.

Random Stray Hairs

As promised, here is my blog on random body hair. Don't deny it. You have one. Everybody does. I actually have two. One is on my left wrist. It's an odd hair that grows longer than the rest and stands erect on my arm. I remember the first time I noticed it. It got caught on my Swatch. The other is on my right eyebrow. It's white. Not blonde, white. I constantly pluck these hairs, but they always grow back. Stealthily. But constant. It's almost comforting to know that whatever is going on in my life, I always have an errant hair on my wrist.

So where's yours? (Dan, if you don't tell your story, I will. You've been warned.)

I'm a Rock Star

So here's something to boost the ol'self esteem: I went to Kroger right after school today. Apparently, that's the time to go and be seen as most of the kids from school are there at that time. As I was wandering the aisles, I kept hearing "Hi, Ms. Gray!" and "Mom, that's Ms. Gray." Whispers followed me everywhere I roamed. Yeah, I rock. I felt like Hillary Duff. I may have to invest in some big Jackie O sunglasses so I can be incognito...

The Girl is Mine

So I just got home from adopting Milly. We went by PetSmart and bought lots of goodies that she could care less about. I was kind of kidding when I said I would go ga-ga over the first one. It's just that she's perfect! Remind me to never foster a child.

And we have a winner!

For the world's most sedentary dog. Mine. I went and picked her up today. First, let me say she's SO cute. Her name is Leslie (they picked it out, I would have named her Millard Fillmore in honor of our rockin' 13th president...I'd have called her Milly). She slept just about the whole way to the park. At the park, we walked for a bit. She laid down. Amanda, then Chadd, then Dan, then John all tried to get her to play. She rolled over for a belly rub. Dan did finally jog around with her which completely wore her out and she slept all the way to dinner. At Bobby's Dairy Dip guess what happened--she went to sleep (albeit preciously at my feet). On the way out she was almost eaten by what looked like a wooly mammoth. That was all very taxing apparently so I helped her mellow out by playing some Jack Johnson which I could tell she dug because she slept all the way home. We got home and I let her in the back yard. She pooped and is now napping. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to adopt her...And change her name.

My New Best Friend

I went to the Patty Griffin show at the Ryman tonight. First of all, I must say that Chadd is the go-to guy for tickets. I knew it was going to be good when we showed the usher our tickets and she said, "Oh, you're down front." I'm sorry? Did we win a contest? No, Chadd's just awesome. We went to our seats which were 5 rows back from the stage. FIVE rows! Now I know there's really not a bad seat at the Ryman, but I was about to cry as we just kept walking closer and closer to the stage. I was in awe when we sat down and I realized that I could, from my seat, spit my gum and hit Patty. I decided then that we would be BFF (for those of you who didn't experience junior high as a girl, that stands for Best Friends Forever). The opening fellow was good. I don't know his name, but he was a slightly skanky version of Antonio Banderas. He played a mean accordion, though. It was very fun music and would be great to salsa dance to. Not that I know how to salsa. But I imagine it would be fantastic.
Then Patty came out. She started on the piano and sang a lullaby that her grandmother used to sing to her. I remembered it from the last time I saw her. She told a lot of stories about her songs then, but didn't tonight which was a little disappointing. I like to know where songs come from, especially ones as intriguing and evocative as hers.
My favorite part of the show was when the band went away and it was just Patty. With her guitar and a voice that absolutely breaks my heart. She sang Long Ride Home, which is one of my all time favorites. Then she sang a new song. Oh my word. I will buy the cd the day it comes out so I can listen to it in the privacy of my own home and cry like a baby. It was beautiful. I almost cried in the Ryman, but I didn't want to embarrass Chadd. Then I saw he was crying, too, but I decided to stay strong. She did one more new one and then moved to the piano. The band came back out, and after a few songs Buddy Miller came out. One of the songs he played with her was Rain. That is the very first song I heard by her. She had me at "Now I don't want to beg you, baby, for something maybe you could never give. I'm not lookin' for the rest of your life, I just want another chance to live." Pause for a moment of quiet reflection.
The concert was over too stinkin' fast. Before I realized it she was talking about finishing off the set. What? You just started! Urg! She did come back for an encore (more on that later) and sang Tears of a Clown, which was very fun. Four whole people actually stood up and danced. She closed with Icicles. Good choice, Patty.
Okay, now for the encore rant. Chadd brought it up in the car, and it's actually something I've said before, too: I hate the concept of the encore. It's not like it's ever a surprise. There's already a set list. Do we really have to stroke your ego that much? We already paid $50 for a ticket. We like you. Just play the songs.
Hm. Now it's 1 am. And, to paraphrase Curious George: After a long day and a good night, LB was very tired.

Why does Dan think I like lists?

Top Ten Reasons I Love Going to the Gym:

10. Walking into the locker room and being overcome by CK1 fumes. Nothing rejuvenates like burning olfactory passages and watery eyes.
9. Seeing a woman who is apparently a big fan of the tanning bed. She brought back fond memories of a favorite brown leather purse.
8. Pirate pants. The brighter and bolder the print, the more masculine you become.
7. Leotards on men. After all, who can be bothered with the weight of actual clothing when lifting the equivalent of a Yugo?
6. Watching Ladder 49 in the Cardio Cinema. Because John Travolta in sappy dramas inspires me more than Vin Diesel's biceps ever could.
5. Listening to Gold's broadcasting channel which features advertisements for the gym I'm already in.
4.They teach frugality. You're going there to sweat. Why should they turn on the air conditioning? Practice this tip at home and save loads on your electric bill.
3. Mirrors. Everywhere. To remind you maybe you're not making the progress you thought you were.
2. Grunting. I feel that my pivoting skills have increased exponentially simply by walking through the free weights area and being startled by what sounds like someone being blugeoned.

And the number one reason?
1. Finding boyfriends for Amanda...Today's jewel apparently used every bottle of peroxide ever made to bleach out his hair. What really transfixed me, though, were the ponytail and his wife-beater tucked into shorts that were probably made to fit my 5-year-old nephew. Grr.

What Girls Say While Watching Star Wars

And now for a random assortment of utterances overheard at tonight's all-girl viewing of Star Wars Episode 4: A New Hope:
-C3PO is completely gay. (LB)
-If I were a gay robot, I could find a better partner that R2D2. (Janel)
-Have you ever wondered why R2D2 never gets stuck in the sand? (Vick)
-His parenting skills are greatly lacking. (Tiffany on Darth)
-Dad! You always did like Luke better! (LB, wishing we would watch it on mute and supply our own dialogue)
-Let the weird incestuous overtones begin...(LB)
-You think Luke gets a tan line from that outfit? (Vick)
-Cut your bangs! (Kacey to Luke)
-I wanna go clubbing with them! (Vick, during scene in Tatoine cantina)
-How much crack did these people smoke before designing the costumes? (LB)
-It was the 70's, my vote is for LSD. (Kacey)
-(After Leia kisses Luke and LB cringes) He's 17! He'd get turned on by a lug wrench, not just his sister! (Janel)
-I always wondered how THAT guy got in the rebel army. He totally could not have passed the physical! (Janel, commenting on large fighter pilot whose name, as it turns out, is Porkins)

And now for the segment, "Things we would say with Jedi power:"
1. No, I haven't been drinking.
2. You want to buy me a Gucci purse.
3. You want to give me the whole day off.
4. You are the most beautiful girl in the world.
5. You want to do the dishes tonight.
6. These are the winning numbers.

So when are we watching Episode 5?!?

I'm gonna be a Mom!

A foster mom, that is! I go pick out my little jewel on May 21st. Oh, did I mention I'm fostering a dog? It sounds like the way to go...They provide toys, food, crate, and vet care. You provide a face to lick. And a ride to adoption day on Saturdays. I'm so excited!! Now stay tuned as I go
ga-ga over the first little varmint I bring home...

"Christian" does not equal Christ

After church tonight, I was standing around chatting with friends. We had just had a lovely praise and prayer service which had been preceded by some lovely instrumental music piped in over the sound system. In my head, that had come back on. However, when I listened closer, it wasn't "God is Love" that was playing. It was "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger circa 1985-ish.
You're motoring
What's your price for flight,
And finding Mister Right?
You'll be all right tonight
Seriously? Had I known it was Phil who put this in, it may have explained some things. Especially since he'd just played Joe Jackson. Anyways, this got me reminiscing about Mary and I singing (choir-like, btw) very non-Christian, yet church-like songs at the retreat. Our selection included:
1. Heaven is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle
2. Like a Prayer by Madonna (herself non-Christian yet churchy sounding)
3. Johnny Angel by Shelley Fabares
4. Earth Angel by The Penguins
5. Angel of the Morning by Merilee Rush (my favorite) and,
6. Angel is the Centerfold by J. Geils Band
I think that was all of them...Anyhoo, the point, which I was reminded of tonight, is that there is a whole lot of church-speak in incredibly secular music. It's just funny to me. I'm not feeling eloquent or I would expound upon that thought...I'm sure some of you will pick up the slack...

Gotta love the Greeks

Or at least the people who work in the Greek/Mediterranean eating establishments. They say Southerners are friendly, but I think these people beat us hands down. An example: My new favorite place is Mediterranean Cuisine. I walked in today to pick up my order and the guy asked how my day was, etc...Typical chit-chat. Then he asks how my kids were for me today and when school is out for the summer. How is the testing going? Oh my word. This was a conversation we had about 2 weeks ago. And I have only been in once since then. And that was with a group of 12 people. But he remembered. This kind of thing would happen with Amanda and I when we first discovered Kalamata's. They knew us. It was like Norm walking in at Cheers. Now I don't go to these places any more than I do others, but it just seems that, at places like this, they take more time and really try to remember their customers. Amanda claims it's the same way at Fattoush (he-he, Fat Tush). Has anyone else noticed this? Now if you'll excuse me I have some hummus and shawarma calling my name...

God Bless America

Have you ever heard the sound of a dream dying? I did on Saturday at the CMM. I was there to drop off family and lend moral support to friends. What I ended up doing was bearing witness as this poor woman's career circled the drain. She sang "God Bless America." She tried the soulful warble that just doesn't fit some people (i.e. her), but the real clencher was how she just couldn't seem to hit a note. Any note. Amanda, how did you miss it? Dan, thank you for being there to mock accordingly. Woman, I'm sorry you'll be keeping your waitressing job.