Saturday, April 14, 2012

Recapping that which is not remembered

How many times and in how many different ways do I sit down here in the dark of a Saturday morning and say "There were a thousand different blog ideas that popped up in my head this week but I can no longer remember what they are."? Seriously, if the government ever streamlines mind reading and Facebook makes it public, you guys would be ROLLING ON THE FLOOR laughing. Because this shit is funny. I just can't remember it. One day.

It was an all-over-the-map kind of week, post-random vacation, where I look back at Monday and think, Wow, was that really just LAST Monday? It ended up on a somewhat sour note, however, due to the questioning of my integrity by someone who matters (in the work-place) and the fact that some how all my hair cut appointments were wiped clean from the booking system at Evolution, which means I am now officially a hippie. You can't even believe how long my hair is. The color is fabulous, sure, but it's so long that I cannot do a thing with it. I did get a fun new product though, so that's some compensation, but as I sit here right now, I am fully aware that no amount of product will make this bedraggled, mushroom-shaped pile of fur look as fabulous as it has in my mind for the last 40 years.

So that's how I start out my favorite part of the week, early Saturday morning: alternately distressed about people talking smack about me and bemoaning my beat up ends.

And thinking I should book Wisconsin.


That's right. Wisconsin. Currently the only vacation I have planned right now. It's April. By now I should have at LEAST one sun-filled trip on the agenda, preferably two. I have plenty of room in my vacation savings to knock one out, and yet here I sit, not thinking about it (well, I'm thinking about it, but not enough to put anything in action). A travel agency (of all things) moved in down the hall from Lincoln Tower and every time I pass it (and I pass it often) I think, I should pop in there and just tell them to find me something. I don't know how Marita does it, looking up all that hotel business and airfare and amenities and tying it in to a nice little vacation package. I look at one bundled package and am instantly exhausted and ready for a nap. Maybe if someone else just did it for me it'd actually happen this year. Maybe what I should really be focusing on is "less think-y more do-y". Is there such a thing as a New Month Resolution? There should be. Just like there should be such a thing as a Spinster Shower. Things that make perfect sense but would never stick. When I come back as the ruler of the world in the next life, those two things will be on my agenda.

I'm open for any ideas of a fabulous vacation destination, by the way. Just do the basic research for me and I'll try to add to it.

Next week I'm in Beaverton, where I haven't been in a while, not since I'm pretty sure I was a big part of one of Candace's clients' having a stroke. In my mind anyway. But it's not like I hold on to these things or anything. Like the incident yesterday regarding my integrity. If you're Catholic, you'll understand why, even though I KNOW I didn't do anything wrong, I still feel like shit about it. If you're not Catholic, this is not an opportunity to give me advice. Nothing will ever change what goes on inside my head.

Which is why, though I intend to quit smoking, I am not sure how I am going to do it. The only thing I have ever tried is hypnosis - one time it stuck and the other time it didn't. People keep talking up the Chantix but EVERYone talks about the crazy dreams (there are some who have experienced every side effect listed, and others who only farted a lot, but EVERYone says their dreams were crazy), and I'm not kidding you, my dreams are crazy enough without chemical embellishment. I'm terrified about what could happen with it. It's kind of funny, though, because I tend to discuss the Chantix and it's fabulous success while outside smoking with a coworker. So, you know, how effective can it really be..?

So that's my check in for the week. If I were a real writer I'd be writing down those ideas. Maybe I'll start using Siri to remind me of ideas, I mean, what the hell, I paid her $200 for the privilege of being in my purse, she might as well do something for me. Besides arguing with me like she does. I hope your Saturday and the upcoming week treat you well. For me, let's hope it brings me a new opportunity to chronicle the hilarity that ensues daily, if only in my head.


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