Things I should be doing and the arguments against them.

I should go tan.
I should wash my new sheets.
I should run to the bank and get some cash because I have $1 in my wallet.
I should be catching up on "90210".
I should finish book 4.
I should mop my kitchen floor.
I should vacuum.
I should run over and give Robert his gift card.
I should set up my Best Buy credit card account on line.
I should take the trash out.
I should take all the stomach pills out of their horrid little packaging to make it easier on me for the rest of the week.
I should email Tammy in Ontario and tell her Barbie and I are coming in two weeks.
I should call Jeri.
I should call Jeff.

I don't want to take the time.
Then I'd have to fold them.
I have to do this, I'm just putting it off.
It's playing in the living room right now and it's gotten so empty I don't know why I even bother. So if I'm listening to it, that should be enough, right?
I am not feeling it.
It's not Saturday.
It's still not Saturday.
I can do this on Friday at work.
It's all the way in the kitchen.
I can just do that on my way out tomorrow. If it isn't raining.
The pill bottle I put them in is full of Advil from my trip.
I can email her tomorrow.
I texted her and I am sure she is busy.
It's probably too late in Boston.

Inside my brain on a Sunday night.

There are a ton of things I suppose I could blog about tonight, but nothing creative is happening in my brain right now. I just got off the phone with a friend and we talked about some stuff and sooner or later it will formulate into blog-worthy content, but for right now I am just going to go back to the living room and chill in front of the TV with a book and the cats and mentally get ready for tomorrow.

But I will say this - I went to breakfast with that Marshy this morning, and afterward we went shopping a little bit, and that Homegoods store on Canyon Road is pretty cool. I might actually start decorating my casita. Which is huge when you consider the commitment ramifications. The stuff at Homegoods is not desperately expensive, which is good, because I'm a tightwad in many ways. But it was big and clean and put together and I need that. I'm surprised - the first Homegoods store I went in was in Fort Lauderdale in about 2005 and the place was a dump - dirty, things slapped together, crammed in bins... I'm never going to be able to find something inspiring in a place like that.

So though I haven't read my horoscope or pulled my cards in a really long time, perhaps I am going through a nesting phase. And maybe by this time next week it will pass. We'll see.

How I spent my April vacation, Part Four (the end)

Day 6 - Tuesday

This morning we decided to check out La Jolla de Mismaloya, where they filmed "Night of the Iguana". I'll be honest with you: I've never seen it. I might now, though, just because I was there. We got up and motivated, Kim ran down for the chairs, and skipped breakfast - the plan was to find a place there for breakfast. So I had it in my head that this would be like a town, or a village or something. At least the beach part, anyway. But this is what I get for not doing any research and not knowing my surroundings. Kim had been there once before, but it was a long while ago, and there have since been some pretty good storms. We took the city bus (I say "city" because it basically is the same bus that takes you into PV) so it was $6 (remember, pesos only in these reports). The drive itself is very pretty, and we weren't 100% sure where we were getting off. Luckily an old caballero took a liking to Kim, and told us where to get off. The bus ride might have been 15 minutes, maybe 20, if I recall correctly. We got off, and walked down a little road that flanked a big resort, and that led to the beach.

The beach was very pretty. There were one or two beach clubs set up, and lots of fishing boats ready to go out. When Kim asked one guy where the iguanas were, he told her they didn't have any. And he wasn't lying. We walked along a path at the far side of the beach that Kim kind of remembered, though she remembered more rocks and lizards. I don't think iguanas like water, though, and the rocks just below the path were pretty much in the ocean. Perhaps the scenery changed with the hurricanes. It was very pretty, anyway, and I do actually have some pictures of that.

We obviously weren't going to get any breakfast here, so we went back the way we came and debated our options. Luckily, a guy selling tours started telling us what we wanted to know (he was from LA), and he pointed us across the street and down a hill to the "town". Which basically had a minisuper and a restaurant that was too nice for us. Back up the hill, the city bus happened to be just stopping, so we grabbed it and opted for breakfast at the resort. It was a fun little adventure!

After breakfast we were back in the sun for a few hours, relaxing and reading and napping and getting some good color. At least Kim's has lasted. Seriously, I am white as a sheet right now. Whatever.

For dinner Tuesday night Kim wanted to treat me to a restaurant that she has been to many times and has never been disappointed. Barcelona Tapas is in old town, but up the street from where the malecon begins. We took a taxi (and thank God, because seriously the streets up that way are practically vertical). The restaurant is on the fourth floor so it has a fabulous view - we got there before the sun set, which made it even better. It's a tapas restaurant, so you basically choose about three items per person and share - they are smallish portions (sometimes) (the mushrooms could have fed a family of four) but perfect - and even then we were stuffed. Service was excellent, the food was delicious, this is a place I would totally recommend to anyone down in that area.

After dinner we walked down to the malecon (the sidewalks were actually steps because the street is so steep) to walk off our meal. Lots of great people watching, and lots of fun art, and sand castles and activity and bustley-ness and it was very very cool. Street performers and vendors and even those guys that swing around the tall pole by their feet - somebody help me out, can't remember what they are called, but you know what I'm talking about if you've ever been to like Chichen Itza for a show. Tons of people, families, everyone out for a stroll. That area is home to all of the big clubs (not my scene) so things were pretty loud, adding to the air of festivity. Add to that the pirate ship (just like in Cancun, they have the pirate ship dinner/party cruise situation) was just out in the bay and started shooting off fireworks. So THAT was fun (because I LOVE fireworks. They make me very happy. As a matter of fact, that was the third set of fireworks I had seen in this one week trip! Amazing!).

We made our way to the end and started looking for a taxi, when (like Mecca) I spotted a Starbucks just across the street. Well of course I needed a cajeta frappucino sin crema batida (because you cannot get cajeta up here) (and sure you could get caramel, but it's not the same). Kim chilled while I fought the crowd within and came out finally with my treat. We got a taxi back home and ended the evening on the deck, watching the water. It was a great night.

Day Seven - Wednesday

Full day sun. It had to be, for me, because so far I had spent very little time compared to Kim laying out. I'm not sure what it was. Perhaps the lack of humidity, which helps you feel no so much like a peice of bacon sizzling in your chair. We spent the whole day laying out, and reading, popped in for some lunch in the room, that kind of thing. They were advertising an Oriental Buffet at the restaurant, and neither really WANTED to cook, so we chose that. I kind of pushed Kim toward it, so I ended up paying for us (it was no match whatsoever for last night's dinner treat, by cost or by quality). We cleaned up and went down. The soup was good. Kim's tappenyeki was okay. The rice was good. The rest of it, meh. Kim's never had a succesful Chinese food experience in PV, and this didn't help her cause at all. But hell, it was food and we didn't have to do dishes. We spent the rest of the evening on the patio, packed up and prepped for the next day.

Day 8 - Thursday

We had to be out of the room by 11am but we did early-check out the day before, to avoid the lines, so by 10 we were ready. We decided to spend a couple of hours at the pool before the 1pm taxi. I didn't see the point in showering, since we'd be in the sun and pool a little bit, and it's not like I was sweaty at the buffet the night before, so we got rid of our suitcases and headed down to the pool. When it was time, the front desk let us use one of the studios to change clothes and freshen up. Taxi back to the airport, then a little bit of lunch, and then we were off. No issues for either flights, and we were back to Portland just around 9:30. I got home about 11pm after all was said and done, hosed off, and went to bed.

All in all it was a good trip - I was kind of a dud as far as partying goes, but I don't think it held Kim up at all. I liked the city and the resort was nice and it's always good to get sun and explore new places. I'm still trying to get used to being back at work and back in the swing of things, but it's been sunny so that's been a big help.

Thanks to you 17 readers for hanging in there with this. It wasn't as exciting as it could have been, but it's probably because I am getting older and my memory is fading...

How I spent my April vacation, Part Three

Okay where was I? Sorry I skipped a day, I kind of forgot what I was doing here.

Day Five - Monday

Since I spent the whole day pretty much on Sunday out of the sun, I was raring to go Monday morning. Kim went down and saved some good chairs and we made breakfast (eggs, toast or tortillas, cottage cheese - we ate the same thing daily. LOVE cottage cheese, Janie, and it has a lot of protein in it. Because that matters. To Kim. But I just love cottage cheese.). Down to the pool from about, oh, I don't know, 10:45 to about 3ish. We planned to find those Serafina bags and get drugs and stuff, since we failed so miserably Saturday. The sun was hot, so we dipped a lot, which is good. We showered and grabbed a taxi (because we could) to a hotel called Blue Chairs (right? Is that what the hotel is called? Because I never really got that), which is located next to the resort Kim used to own at until they sold it. We took a quick tour of the upstairs deck where they have a drag show three nights a week (we did not go, my fault), and then walked next door to her old resort. It was nice, cute and much smaller than the one we stayed at, but it was very charming, and you can't beat the location. From there we walked via beach back to the area that would ultimately take us back to Serafina. First we stopped for lunch at a place next to Andale's (name escapes me. Good God. It was only last week.) that was recommended to us by Hank and Ed. It was good. Kim will remember it. Wasn't it like Capt Sweeney's or something like that? You guys should probably just wait for the comments, I am really sucking this up.

I just realized I remember what we did on Saturday, so I will revise at the end of this one.*

Okay, so we get to Serafina, and choose a couple of bags (they really are great) and then from there we hit the farmacia finally. A completely capable, virile and YOUNG guy I know here in the US had asked me to get him these little blue pills, not really sure why, but apparently when you can actually get it up withOUT help, these little blue pills make it more fun. Okay (They wanted way too much money for them so I guess he'll either have to ask his brother to get them or just make do the old fashioned way...). I did pick up some antibiotics, they're cheap and you never know if you might need them, Kim picked up some things, and we headed back to the grocery store no longer known as Rizzo's.

Our supplies restocked, we grabbed a taxi out front and headed back to the casita. I want to say that this was one of the nights where we went to the pool bar. It only stayed open til 10:30 so there wasn't a ton of damage a person could do, unless they planned to go out afterward, which would be normal, but desperately unlike me. So we ended the evening out on the patio and got some sleep.

*Saturday revisited

Okay remember how I said from Rizzo's we taxied back to the resort on Saturday? Well, that was a lie. What we DID do is head toward the beach area to get some beers and people watch. It was Saturday, so it was still Semana Santa (Holy Week, lots and lots of vacationers from within Mexico), and the beach bars were packed. We stopped at Burros and had a drink each - the vibe wasn't that great for me, though I am not sure what I was looking for vibe-wise. From there we walked over to a place called Cuates y Cuetes (CCs) - MUCH better vibe, right on the boardwalk, tons of people walking around and a great sunset. We stayed there for a while actually, had some beers, Kim had a huge shrimp cocktail, it was pretty bitchin. After THAT we got the taxi and went back home. And I am guessing went to the pool bar that night because I was mildly buzzed. Or watched the water from the deck. Okay. I feel better now that I corrected that.

I will continue tomorrow, though, because I took a long phone call in the middle of this post and the cats are screaming at me for ignoring them for so long. Thanks for hanging in there. The good news is that nothing really exciting has happened in the last couple of days, so it's not like you're missing out on anything. Except OH MY HELL my house dreams have moved to a whole new, freakier level. Seriously.

Because I told Barbie I'd blog about it

So yesterday Barbie came and got me around 3pm and we went to the mall to purchase some things for our mother and shop around a little bit, hit the Coach store (too much Signature Line crap) and Nordstrom, where I managed to drop $82 on bronzer. Yep, you read that right.

On our way home we were in the general vicinity, so we decided to drive past our old 'hood. Bruce Lane, where it all began. I grew up in this house, until I was twenty and moved to California, and since we moved there in 1964, Barbie was about, what? ten? when we moved in (I can't do math right now, it's Sunday and I can't believe I am not on the sofa yet). My mom sold the house while I was in California in 1986. I drive by it often, actually, just to check it out. It looks so much smaller when you are older. And for some reason I dream about it. A LOT. Several times a week, in fact. I have given up wondering what THAT means.

Anyway so we are creeping past the house, and a lady is just coming out the front door and going to her car. We were mentioning to each other how great the yard looks, and no, those aren't new windows, when Barbie decides to tell the lady who we are (since she is kind of looking at us without looking at us, wondering if we are casing the joint or something). Barbie rolls down the window and says hello, and then we tell her we aren't burglars, we grew up there and were just marvelling at how good the place looks. Then she asked us if we wanted to come in and see it. This is why I love Beaverton. Of course, we said yes and practically bowled her over running up the steps.

It was a trip. She had done a lot to it in 22 years, but it was the same house. Same light fixture in the entry hall that would have been impossible to change a light bulb in, but in the 22 years WE lived there, I don't think it ever burned out. It did for her, though, she said, several times. Which sticks with me, that light bulb. Not sure why. The floors in my old bedroom were the same, she redid the horrific turquoise and pink bathroom upstairs, and carpeted the downstairs, but the floor in the utility room was the same still. Odd, the things you remember. We went room by room saying stuff like, here's the storeroom Tom turned into a studio, here's the little boys' room, the kitchen looks great, etc.

I don't know, it was weird. Weird going back through the house you grew up in, especially in OUR family. I was convinced I would dream about it last night, but I didn't. As a matter of fact, I doubt I will again. In my dreams it's always been kind of dark, but in reality it was pretty sunny and light. Decent vibes. I won't even attempt to figure out what all THAT means.

Because it's 2:15 and I'm headed for the sofa.

How I spent my April vacation, Part Two

Okay, then. This is really quite an endeavor, since I kind of can't remember a lot.

Day Three - Saturday

Got up at the usual time, 7:30am, same as Kim. Had some coffee and read on the balcony for a while, actually, watching some guys fish just below us in the lagoon. Made some breakfast - the start of our traditional breakfast: scrambled eggs with extra egg whites, ham, and scallions, cottage cheese, and either toast or tortillas and juice. I simply cannot get enough of that nectar de manzana. I've never even bothered to look for it here, though you can get Jumex here. I guess I just equate it with vacations. Anyway, did up the dishes, suited up, and set out for the pool. It was about 11am by now (sun gets to the pool late-ish there, what with the whole resort-next-to-a-mountain thing going on). This was lesson number one of the day - you probably should attempt to save chairs early. The place was full up, not a chair to be found. Lots and lots of people and kiddies playing in and around the pool. Kim had been hoping that a gay couple she knew from the last few trips would be there, and as we approached the pool, her hopes came true - Ed was in the pool and his boyfriend of 33 years, Hank, was up on the chairs. Ed offered to give up his own chair and we convinced the guard to put down another one next to it - not too bad of a squeeze, and we were set. We chatted with the two of them (Ed stays in the water about 99% of the time). They were two very wonderful men, from Queens, which was kind of fun, very colorful and chatty and generous to get us set up. We laid out for a few hours, maybe three? and then went up for some lunch and to shower up.

Couple of hours later and we were ready for our quest for the day. We planned to go into Old Town and hit this store that Kim likes called Serafina. It is just a normal silver and souvenir store, but they sell these really cute tote bags that advertise the store itself. She has roughly 95 of them already, in various and sundry sizes and colors, but really you can't have too many (you know I'm exaggerating, right?). So we go out and stand sort of next to the mountain (seriously) waiting for the local bus. And what a bus it was. I thought the buses in Cancun were pieces of shit. Holy crap. Of course we had to stand (I was actually standing over a hole in the floor at the end there, as people kept getting on and we had to keep moving back). The bus driver drove like a bus driver in Mexico drives, with the added bonus of being on a twisty-turvey mountain road. It was... great. Great enough for me to remember that job I have and the fact that a $70 taxi ride seriously isn't that bad. We got off on the street that Serafina's is on, walked down to it, and found it closed! It was probably like 5pm at this point, and though I was a little bit shocked at first, it dawned on me that it might be due to the whole Holy Saturday thing. Fine, fine, we still had places to go, so we got our bearings and hunted down the farmacia that Kim preferred to frequent. It was a few blocks away, nothing was really FAR from anything else, but of course we get there and it, too, is closed. Okay. Maybe we just got started too late. We turned the corner and hit her favorite (and regular) supermarket, Rizzo's (but it isn't called that anymore officially), for I'm not sure what, but it was a pretty well-stocked place. I remember seeing things and saying out loud - These people don't know how good they have it! Lasagna noodles, all manner of Chinese and Japanese food ingredients, a whole section of "international" foods (food from the US), Lipton noodle soup, you name it - if they don't sell it in Cancun, they sold it here.

We taxi'd back to the resort and ... cooked again? Why don't I remember the evening meals? Then chilled for the rest of the evening. I think. I seriously can't remember.

Day Four - Sunday

We planned (pre-trip) to go to Easter mass at the big old cathedral there in Old Town, but Saturday night we pretty much decided it wasn't happening. At 7:30 we were up, and Kim threw some clothes on and went down to save some chairs. The towel game is supposedly not tolerated according to all the signs around the pool, but people do it anyway, so we did, too. Screw it. Had our eggs and cottage cheese breakfast, and I was kind of not yet fired up to go down to the pool. I was deep into the new Wally Lamb (READ. IT. ) and, you know, Sunday IS my day of rest, so Kim went down around 11 and I... didn't. At all. In fact I barely got out of my pajamas (just another version of houseclothes, essentially). I actually tried to nap - for furniture we had the sofa bed, which, with the egg crate mattress pad, wasn't closing all the way, rendering it useless, and a love seat. I made do on that. Kim came up for lunch at some point but then went back down, and I just stayed in all day. Not like me. I am getting kind of used to all this alone time. Hmm.

Anyway, AGAIN I have no recollection of the evening meal, though I may have made some meat, and of course cottage cheese (we blew through about 6 containers of cottage cheese on this trip), and since I didn't shower at all I think we just stayed in again. We pretty much stayed in all nights. So don't be expecting some crazy upcoming blog entry about how we went out and got hammered and screwed some random Mexican boys. Cuz it just didn't happen.

Up next - Day Four, I actually get some sun.

Isn't this just EDGE-OF-YOUR-SEAT exciting?!

Yeah, whatever.

Oh, and let me add this...

So our resort was south of Old Town. Puerto Vallarta, for those of you who do not know, is hilly. It's like built in to the side of a mountain range. So the parts closest to the beach are flat, but there are plenty of steep streets as you go east. Our resort was at like KM 4.5 on the carretera, and it was up (from town) a windy mountain-like road. Mountain on one side, deep drop off on the other. Hairpin turns for the most part. Cars that potentially could come right at you if the driver was like, changing his cd or blowing his nose or something. I myself didn't think it was any $70 fare, but then again neither is it $70 going from Plaza Caracol to the old Over 30 club, but that's what they try to charge you in Cancun. Bastards. What a racket. You know I don't tip taxistas, and this is why. I don't usually have to pay to get fucked. Know what I mean?

How I spent my April vacation, Part One

I might stretch this out a little bit, considering my life these days isn't desperately exciting. I hope this doesn't bore you. I'll try to use colorful, descriptive words and swear some so that it keeps your interest.

Day One - Thursday

I had to get up at 3:15am to be at Kim's house by 5:45am (I wanted to shower and have some coffee and get gas and finish the bathroom packing). It was easy enough, but the hardest part was saying goodbye to the kitties. I knew they were in good hands with that Robert, but still. Turns out, I've grown rather attached to these little bunnies. Kim was ready to go so we packed up my car and headed to the airport with plenty of time. Parked at the Park and Fly over off 82nd, I'd never done that, but it was a good price and very convenient. We checked in and had some breakfast at Gustav's, over by our gate. Thus began the tradition of cottage cheese for breakfast.

We flew Portland to LA, and that flight isn't so bad, probably due to the two double bloodies we each had. I haven't drank vodka before 8am since the days of spending my weekends at the University of Oregon during football season. The transition at LAX went smoothly, as did the double tall bloody there, and the next leg of the flight was fairly short (only one double bloody each) (I'm not sure who I thought I was. But this wasn't exactly a pattern for me, so relax a little bit, there.). We arrived in PV around 3pm, HOT. Sweating hot. And any of you out there that wear bangs in Mexico understand how attractive THAT looks... Picked up a taxi for $200 MX (by the way, just so you know, from here on out it's pesos), which actually was a bargain. My first introduction to the people of Puerto Vallarta - ? Two guys that grew up in Orange County... And to think Kim was hoping to practice her Spanish this week.

We arrived at the resort - Kim owns timeshare there, but this was her first time at this particular one. The one she bought was sold so she has to use this one or the one in Nuevo Vallarta and she prefers to be closer to town, so this was a trial run for her. Thursday is check in day for timeshare holders (right?) so the lobby was zoo-ish, but they offered free welcome drinks, so we each had three and tipped the hell out of the kid pouring them so that he would heavy-hand them (he did). Settled in our one bedroom apartment (after a quick stop at the tiendita in the lobby for some beer) (WHICH, I might add, cost $220 for a flipping 12-pack), we adjourned to the balcony to chat, sip cold ones, and watch the sunset. Of course, it was only like 5:30, and the sun doesn't actually set until around 8:20. It was hot and we sweated some more, but really isn't that what you're supposed to do on a Mexican vacation?

We cleaned up around sunset and then grabbed a $70 taxi into the Zona Romantica (Old Town), Kim's stomping grounds (it was in this area that her old resort, the one that was sold, was located). Had some dinner at a place called Cafe de Olla (good grilled fish) and some beers. Kim knows the owner, so he brought over a couple of tequila shots at the end - icky cheap blanco, but what the hell. Afterward we went to a place called Andale's and had some more beer (margs for Kim, bad idea, way too much sweet and sour and it wasn't sitting well in her stomach) and watched these two separate (but equally) crazy white broads dance. The waitress and I were hoping one of them would trip on the stairs, and the other one, well, she was so irritating to me that if I could have got up and punched her in the face, then sat back down and finished my beer with no further incident, I totally would have. But, you know, I didn't. I just thought about it. A lot.

From there we stopped at an Oxxo (LOVE the Oxxo) to get more beer, but apparently there is some crazy law that stops beer sales at 12 midnight, so we just got some water and found a taxi back. He wanted $100. After I stopped laughing at him, he drove like Dario or something up the windy road - I think he was trying to scare us but it didn't work and I gave him $70 and we called it a night.

Day Two - Friday

Up at 6:30am, and it was dark. NIGHT dark. So I went back to bed until 7:30am. Sunrise apparently. This would take some getting used to. I slept on the pullout sofa (imagine laying a couple of tissues over a metal frame. Luckily we had housekeeping bring up one of those egg crate mattress pads when we checked in. So imagine an egg crate mattress pad over a couple of tissues over a metal frame.), and Kim in the bedroom, but in general we woke up around the same time every morning. I am sure it had nothing to do with my noise level in the morning. Hey, I'm not getting any younger, things tend to stiffen up while I sleep, and add to that a metal bar against your hip all night, you're gonna walk a little like Herman Munster when you first get up. I ran into some things. Anyway, we made a little grocery list and checked the taxi rates, and headed off to the Walmarts.

Kim had never been to the Walmarts in PV, but I talked her into it simply because, well, you miss those kinds of things I guess. The Walmarts was located in the marina area, so the taxi rate was like $130 or something like that. I had to keep reminding myself that I have a job and make actual money and that I can really afford half of a $130 taxi fare. Because I can. Anyway, off to the Walmarts, where the taxista offered to wait for us, which was fine with me. It was huge, maybe even bigger than the tourist Walmarts in Cancun, and we got out of there for the low low price of $1620 (which is pretty good when you consider two cases of beer and three big bottles of liquor) - they actually packed most of our shit in boxes instead of bags. The taxista laughed at the picture Kim took of the cold-cut lady and this ginormous thing of Oaxaca cheese - it's Kim's favorite and it made her kind of giddy (once I figure out how to pirate her pictures off Shutterfly I'll post them. Sorry. And I haven't even downloaded my own meager selection, but I'll do that later. I promise. I just did like 5 loads of laundry and frankly I'm a little worn out.)(Well, I did like 4 loads yesterday and took a nap, then slept all night and am just finishing my regular bedsheet load now, but still.). All in all we gave the taxista about $300 simply because he waited, loaded, unloaded, and let us smoke in the car.

Unloaded and lunched, we put on our suits and headed for the beach. It's a small beach, man-made lagoon, etc., but it was a beach. We got some chairs laid out for us (gravity issues, it was a on a slope) and settled in. Really intense sun. We were only out for like 2 hours and I got some color (sweet). By this time it was like, I don't know, 5pm? and we didn't want to like over-do it. Watched the sunset after dinner (did we cook? I can't remember. I guess we cooked.) and chatted and shit and called it a day. I think. We didn't go out much at night, so it's hard to recall. This is not Kim's fault - this is my fault. I can't drink like I used to.

Coming up next - Day Three (obviously), everything we attempt to go to is closed. But it is, after all, Holy Saturday.

Back

So it was a really good trip.

I've got assloads of laundry to do and I need to shower still, and I slept late and totally have to catch up on my DVR, and I think my tan is already totally faded, and I have all manner of errands to run, but I am home and it's raining and I had to turn the heat on and frankly if I could just run out real quick-like and save some chairs (or rather, have Kim do it...) then all would be right with the world.

I think I will, for the first time ever, do a blow-by-blow accounting of the trip. But not right now, due to the aforementioned priorities, but perhaps later today. Don't get all fired up, I don't have many pictures, but that Kim sure does, so I will have to add to my paltry amount when she sends me hers. Until then, here is one of 7 sunsets viewed from our balcony. It was hot(ish) (which doesn't mean I didn't sweat like a big hairy wrestler all week) and relaxing and fun. But I'm back now, and I right now I need more coffee.

Okay, REALLY adios.

Packed (almost completely), clean (except I didn't vacuum) and freshly laid litter. I'm ready. But I've never been so sad to leave the little kitties! I know this will be a fun trip, and I know it'll be nice to lay in the sun, but dang those kitties!

I guess I'm as ready as I can be for having to take a shower at 3:15am, I'm sure the suitcase weighs more than 50 pounds, and I bid you adios for a week. Take care, hold down the fort while I'm gone, and I will do my best to have some adventures to write about when I get back.


Ciao!

Not ready.

And that's not surprising.

I am finally doing laundry but then I'll go look for something, like something white to throw in with the white tshirt, and realize I have to do ANOTHER load of colors because I forgot to wash my pareos. And then there's the adult ADD I've managed to develop. So I'm looking for my Coach leather cleaner and see my contacts supply and think, Oh I should change out my contacts and grab a pair for tomorrow, and then my sleeve catches on the pack of QTips and I think, Oh I bet I need to add some of these to my travel bag (I keep a separate bag of toiletries for travel so I don't get distracted and forget shit like shampoo which has happened) and put down the contacts and then see bandaids and put down the QTips to pull some bandaids out of the box and then I suddenly find myself in a totally different room and closet with four bandaids in my hand and nothing else (except the phone I was on the entire time) and wondering what I was doing in there. So you can see I am getting no where.

I did ask Robert to feed the kits since he lives three doors away from me, and even got an extra key made. So that's done. But tomorrow at lunch I have to run to the Comcast office and pick up a cable box for my bedroom TV because I don't ever open my mail (I get all my bills on line so why should I open the mail they send?) and apparently missed the memo about how without a box I will no longer get any channel above channel 30 on my regular-plugged-into-the-wall cable TV in the bedroom. After April 15. And of course I will be gone on the 15th. Won't I?

Then tomorrow night I have to tan one last time, and vacuum the house and clean the litter box one last time and de-fur the sofa so that Robert doesn't go into anaphylactic shock upon entering the casita. I allege that the packing will be done tonight, but seriously, who am I kidding?

So I am not ready in the slightest. I am not that worried, I work best under pressure. Hopefully I will remember my camera and if I do, I will take lots and lots of pictures.

Adios ~

Okay, now I've got something to say

How long has "voicemail" been around? For like, I don't know, something like 30 years? Or at least the concept of it? Like answering machines? Somebody Wikipedia that and get back to me.

So if it's been around for so FUCKING long, then tell me - WHY IS THE STUPID LADY ON THERE STILL TELLING US HOW TO WORK VOICEMAIL? No SHIT, "leave a message after the tone". Do you think I am some kind of an idiot? The worst ones are the ones where the instruction is like 10 minutes long - "At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, hang up, or press the pound key for more options." Seriously? After all that, I've lost all interest in why I called the person to begin with. Because I am infuriated. Really? I have to wait for the tone? You mean I can't just start talking over your annoying voice? I have to actually wait for a tone? And why are you still talking? Where's the tone already? Thank God for all this babbling instruction, because I just dropped out of the tree I've been living in for the last 50 fucking years and I have no idea how this crazy voicemail system works. How do I know you'll give Barbie the message? Will you go over to her house and wait for her to get home? Fuck.

And here's another question. I don't ever push pound for more options, because what are the options? Isn't one of them, "To send this message as URGENT, press 2"? What the hell does that mean? If I see that I have a voicemail, how do I know until I check that the message is urgent? I could be laying on the sofa, too lazy to call my voicemail, and meanwhile there is an URGENT MESSAGE in there just WAITING to be picked up. But I don't know that. Shouldn't the phone like burst in to flames or something to give you the indication that, in fact, it really WAS an urgent message but it's too late now?

I'm just not going to leave messages anymore. Not when that stupid lady comes on and tells me how to do it. I may not remember CPR and I might not know how to split an atom, but I CERTAINLY know how to leave a fucking message for someone when they don't answer the phone. I'm sick of being patronized and treated like an idiot.

Fuck.

Prepping for the inevitable

So I went out last night. I don't do that so much these days. I mean, I go places, I just don't "go out". "Going out" means beers. We had to discuss the details that Thursday will bring - you all know by now that I am going to Mexico again (finally) on Thursday, right? Yeah, so that Kim and I went and had some beers and on an empty stomach no less (for me, anyway, imagine). I didn't get hammered or anything but I still woke up with that empty ick stomach situation... I think it's psychosomatic so I'm not going to go any further with it. We had fun, though, and I saw a bunch of people I (used to) know, and this trip is going to be a kick in the ass. And I am going to be tan again. Gloriously tan.

I've been all over town this week work-wise, and it's been busy. Busy is good, it makes the days go fast, but busy also means a high irritation factor for me, so on top of accomplishing the many things involved with other people's pursuit of the American Dream, I also managed to come up with some pretty vibrant variations of swear word strings. I got to throw things around, always a plus, and I think I stomped my feet a few times. I recall storming out of a room on a couple of occasions, shooting dirty looks, yelling sarcastically at a snide comment, and yesterday, returning to my desk and finding it littered with (unopened, thank God) maxi pads and a jar of mayonnaise that had my photo taped to it. Good times.

It's sunny out today and I don't want to shower because the hair situation is okay, but I have a thousand and one things to do that I am not doing quite yet and I think the plan for today is to clean the fuck out of this apartment, go visit the mom, buy some food and tan. And then lounge. And start packing.

Gotta be prepared for Thursday.

Wow, it's early.

Not much to say this morning, or so far this week, but it's been a busy one. I have actually been working on specific desks for the last week and a half, but that's pretty much ending today, as I go back to the bedlam that is Lincoln Tower. I miss it. I understand they are bedraggled and worn out, and that they opened another something like 400 orders this month. Craziness.

But because I have nothing to say, thanks to Heather I have had this song stuck in my head for the last two days and now I just want to hear it for reals. So here you go.



Guess it will be there for the rest of today, now, too.