big laundry

Hehehehehehe we have been listening to/watching Phineas & Ferb pretty much all day. It makes me laugh so so so much, no matter how many times I have seen an episode. The Lake Nose monster episode made me think about Pete's Dragon this time. Remember that movie? It's from 1977, apparently. Wow.

Speaking of old favorites, tonight I worked at a big food drive event where they were showing

Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. Call me crazy, but I assumed people would know the movie was made from an old childrens' book. Do people still have ideas that creative? It was a fun chance to educate people about the history of the book, which was published in 1982. Oh gosh, people probably just acted like they cared because I was giving out candy. Darn it. I'm such a nerd.

BUUUUUUUT....saving the best for last: GO HERE! GO HERE! GO HERE! My new friend Mel is a super awesome photographer and I got to model for her a couple weeks ago. She just posted the photos on her blog. If you have some time I would seriously recommend you look back through her photos for some creative inspiration. She has an incredible eye for location and detail and I love they way she selects the focus of a photo and blurs out the rest sometimes. It has been raining an inordinate amount lately so the desert was really green and ripe for shooting. EEEEEEEEE it was so fun and she makes me look good. hehehe

the perfect apartment (so close!)

We are only a few weeks away from finally moving out of this crazy hole and we have not found a new home yet. We had a place lined up but now we're not sure if we want to live on that side of town and we have to start our search all over again.

Yesterday I found a zillion rentals downtown and we drove to every one of them only to find they were mostly owned by the same person and he did not show up to let us into any of them. Stinky. BUT while waiting for him we came across another apartment that was not on the list...and it was perfect. So perfect. In a very bohemian, historic kind of way. The only drawback? It was perfect for single-Martha-with-a-cat but not so much for realistic-Martha-and-husband. Aw man. :(

Mentally tour it with me for a moment, please. (If I'm not allowed to cry, you're not either.) Location: Arts district of downtown Phoenix, across from an outdoor restaurant. Built in the 1920's and perfectly restored, baby blue exterior, corner apartment with historic replica windows spanning all 3 sides. (shoot, I'm already crying). Original hardwood floors on the first floor, built-in storage under wooden staircase, bathroom with original built-in cabinets and "powder station" as Sam calls it, kitchen is nothing to write home about. Approximately 90 square feet. Upstairs opens directly into bedroom with full wall of windows which provide access to liveable flat roof. Maximum 40 square feet. So...I'm pretty bad at math, but I believe 90 sf + 40 sf - garage = no room for husband whom I love even more than tiny historic apartments in the Arts district. But right now I'm wavering.
These pictures are not the actual apartment, but if you cut this living room in half, widen the bedroom a wee bit and add windows everywhere you have a very good idea of what it looks like. [sigh]

My heart is breaking. Seriously, if there was a garage available within a 3-block radius we would have put cash down yesterday and started the Goodwill pile this weekend.

Pigeon holes are great. For stuffing pigeons in...

Our office has been in a state of chaos for the last few weeks, which has given me the ironically-timed opportunity to bond with certain coworkers. One whom I've gotten pretty close to brought up the issue of my work reputation being vastly different from my actual personality. This has always been an intriguing thing, to me.

What it boils down to is that I don't fit the naughty or nice lists properly but people need me to fit one or the other to keep their brains from exploding so they assign me to the nice list. It's because I'm cute which, I know, I will appreciate when I am 60 and people think I'm only 45. But for now it is a curse because people can't look past my big cartoon eyes and pointy ears.

Of course I can't complain about being automatically placed on the nice list; the alternative would suck even more. But apparently being a nice person means you do not have a sense of humor, you will not fight back, you will sit nervously by and allow injustice to run rampant, you do not like conflict, you will cry, you are easily offended, you are afraid, you must stay in your comfort zone, you are weak, you like butterflies and rainbows, etc. Okay, so maybe the alternative would be better...

Really? That is what being nice entails? Really? Then put me on the naughty list because I have a sense of humor, you will not walk on me and you will not walk on any other person in my earshot and get away with it, I am conflict trained and tested, yes I will cry but very little offends me and even less scares me. I love risk and challenge, I love kittens and puppies but I also love punk rock and motorcycles, tattoos and [sucking at] full-contact sports like tennis and soccer.

But I am also very helpful and nice, I love people more than anything and I wear high heels and listen to country music. And darn it I sure do love kittens. I'm not saying I'm so complicated and nobody understands me. Honestly, I completely understand how people perceive me and why. And this is a fascinating anthropological study, to me. Sometimes I try to combat the perception but trying to tell someone no, I'm really hardcore tends to make them laugh rather than change their mind. Strange, huh?

So I just get a whole lot of surprised reactions from people. When I crack a joke, when I stand up for myself, when I have orange hair, when I don't know how to play the piano. It makes real friends that much more important to me; people who know I have both sides and still love or put up with me. You are freaking awesome and I love you.

I know it makes everyone's day better to see Sam's precious face, so:

(We're visiting Christina's mom in Lake Havasu this weekend.)

I guess this party's more than your new Barbie bargained for
She's got you by the sleeve, slowly easing towards the door
She's probably right, you should be movin' on
Don't know how long we can behave
Better have the valet get the car
('Cause you know how women are)

Number 5 just cries a river a minute
7 wants to tie you up and drown you in it
Yeah, 14 just wants to say so long, bygones
32 wants to do things to you that'll make you blush
10 would key the El Camino that you love so much
And there ain't nobody wants to mess with 23
Oh, lucky 4 you tonight I'm just me

Forgiveness is the key
According to my shrink
But, it's not just up to me
(I don't know girls, what d'ya think?)

~She*Daisy, Lucky 4 You Tonight It's Just Me

Don't sweat the random chaos - and it's ALL random chaos

This week has been a deeply thoughtful and philosophical one, for me. Is it proper etiquette to send invitations for a blanket party? (For you civilians, a blanket party is when you throw a blanket over someone's head and beat them up.) Is it okay not to help someone if you know they will become dependent on you like a crutch and never learn their own job? If you have 12 bananas and 7 are ripe but the rest are rotten, do you eat all of them because those 7 were okay or do you eat the good ones and then bail on the rest? (That is an analogy- I am not really having banana issues.)

But, aside from those things - and working at 6 am on Saturday - this week I also got a fantastic haircut and discovered a new favorite writer. So it is not all bad, I suppose. If you are into blog reading, you should really check her out: http://www.kendilea.blogspot.com/. Of course, I am partial to her style because she is a Christian college graduate who works in Marketing, loves fashion and writes with biting sarcasm. Seems familiar, but I can't quite figure out why...

Marian has been working in Phoenix this week, which you know means BRO PARTY EVERYDAY! I have never seen two people so happy to be together, in my whole life; not even newlyweds. These two just can't get enough of each other. So we are staying at his temporary apartment for the weekend and WOW is it wildly different from ours. Mainly because it has windows, no obvious drug dealers and it is more than 500 square feet. I'm not entirely sure we are in Phoenix anymore, Toto.

Sam recently picked up a handful of Old Navy tshirts that were $2 each. This tshirt is evidence of why they were so cheap- they are all sneakily booze themed! He wore this one to work once, not realizing what it meant. Um, oops?
I will be returning to Natural Blondedom this week. Does it sound silly that I am scared? I am about to pay somebody 4 zillion dollars to make my hair the color God made it for free and I just KNOW that as soon as it is finished I will want to dye it right back to brown. I am questioning if blonde really even is a natural color for women. Have you ever met a woman who was naturally blonde, no highlights or bleach? Are you suuuure? Eh, well, I'll let you know how it goes. Please try not to fall off your chairs in anticipation. And do continue eating and sleeping until then.

just have to point out...

Check out these awesome tshirts I just discovered from homage clothing. Homage is a Columbus-based company that has the most superbly awesome vintage-esque tshirts. I keep trying to find Phoenix-based companies and all I end up with is more Columbus stuff. What up with that?

I must add, surfing on the Olentangy River? Really? Gross.

Yesterday there were several people at the golf tournament wearing Ohio State gear. That never seems odd to me until I remember that this is Phoenix NOT Columbus. It must be what Sam feels like when he overhears other people speaking Romanian and he thinks it's totally normal until he remembers the Romanian population of the US is like .6%! Both situations bring up a little bit of homesickness...

extra mushroom, please

I just finished a new hat and thought it would be really fun to wear with my red one, since they are different colors and textures. As it turns out, layering hats is not as great an idea as layering, well, anything else. Sam already calls me his little mushroom (because of the way my hair is growing out, I have a very mushroom-shaped head right now), so when I put on both hats I looked extra mushroomy. Uh er um, well, great?

Doesn't it look like a crocheted bike helmet? This could solve the nerdy bike helmet epidemic! They make cool skins for everything else, why not helmets? Come on, who's with me?!

apparently Japan is full of sand dollars

Today I played chicken with drunk people in golf carts and got paid for it. My job is awesome. :) I've been on a committee to plan this charity golf tournament for the last several months and one of our goals as a committee was to utilize everybody's strengths and talents. My strength and/or talent is, clearly, being sober. Their talents were drunk driving, drunk dialing and drunk shmoozing. Yikes. The tournament was a success, although I don't think any of the golf teams completed even 9 holes.

In other (wildly important) events: my friends' 2-year old used her big girl potty for the first time, today. If I have to hear about it, so do you. My friends are both extremely gifted, professionally trained musicians and yet they consider this one of their life's greatest achievements. And I know they are not the only ones. Don't most parents feel the same way? What is that about? Is it one of those things I won't understand until I get there?

Eh, whatever. I consider one of my life's greatest achievements to be the roast I made a couple weeks ago. Whoa, was it good.

I leave you with this diptych of my sweetheart and myself. I just noticed that he has black hair and a red shirt and I have red hair and a black shirt. You know, we usually try to coordinate things like that. Most of his shirts are MVNU green or blue, though, so it doesn't always work out...

Play that funky music

You know what cures just about anything? Leaving work early to sit out in the sun and do nothing. (For the record, adding a cat to that mix cures absolutely anything.) Also, a great haircut cures a lot of things. This is why people originally moved to Arizona, I'm sure of it. Not to cure their asthma or pneumonia, but to cure their anger issues or depression or stress.

You know it's true. If you could sit out here with me right now, whatever you are stressing over would pretty much go away. Whoever you want to strangle for coming into work with strep throat and pinkeye and touching your stuff would slowly fade from memory. The loser who takes credit for your biggest project in front of a teleconference with the entire management staff, owners and your clients would become considerably less of a loser in your mind. And the tears over your favorite manager who just resigned and took your favorite coworker with him may eventually even stop. It just takes a heavy dose of rebellion, sunshine and laziness. Embrace it.

And plan ahead for depression season (oh, they call that winter, don't they...) because plane tickets are awfully pricey if you wait until it's been snowing for three months.

What a day...

Blech. That pretty much covers it. As if Work Day From Hell #2 was not enough, I had to come home and finish filing our taxes and fill out Sam's FAFSA and I was supposed to do some laundry but ran out of time so I will be wearing the weird undies tomorrow. You know what I'm talking about, the backup ones.

But I must add, it is a darn good thing that I love my job. I remember my last job all too clearly, (the one where they mispelled "blueprint archiving drone" as "Marketing Director" in the Craigslist ad)- I wanted to break things every day of the week. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that was my psycho phase and things probably weren't as bad as I thought they were.

Now, even when I am at the peak of stress I still love my job. I never knew that was possible. I may meet myself coming and going and meet new levels of scum (usually with a management title) monthly, but it is worth it.

Now I just have to work on not complaining so much, at home. I didn't realize how much I do until tonight I actually said "remember last week when I was complaining about..." Yikes, really? I expect him to remember my complaints? Uh, no thank you.

I crocheted a cute belt over the weekend. I will show you someday. Don't hold your breath.