Flippity Flop

So its supposed to be pretty hot today. And while I was getting ready this morning, I noticed a tiny glowing dot on the bottom of one of my flip flops. "What the...."

I picked it up for a closer look and chuckled, it was a butterfly sticky. I spent yesterday in Pasadena with a dear friend and her two glorious girls. We had a fabulous time : eating Trader Joe's Chocolate Kitty Cat Cookies, getting dressed, trying some new eyeshadow on mommy, napping in the car, touring the "South Side" of Pasadena and topping things off at Target. At one point the girls, very enamored with my flip flops, decided to take them for a walk around the house. And I'm left with a lovely reminder of a lovely day...

 a slide show of our adventure <3

Sing like no ones listening?

So this is our singing neighbor. He lives somewhere on our street and is constantly walking up and down the block...singing...LOUDLY. The first few times I noticed, I just stood in the window watching in amazement. "Doesn't he know that EVERYONE can hear him???" I'd say to the boy. "I'm sure. Maybe he doesn't care?" he said. So I've been trying to catch him on video but every time I do, he either walks to damn fast or stops singing. FINALLY! I got a little blip. He sings everything from Christina Aguilera, Beyonce, Sam Sparro to Rihanna and Brittany. Mostly pop queens apparently.

I can't decide if I'm perplexed or if I admire his courage to not care who's watching. Is this what they mean when they say, "dance like no one's watching," ???? Yes I have to much time on my hands.

Dog Days are Over

I couldn't sleep for the life of me last night. Finally around 4am I gave up and got online. And of course around 5:30am I started to get tired. "no way," I thought. "I ain't wasting this morning." So I got out of bed and made the boy pancakes and eggs. Red faced with crepe-y eyelids he emerged from slumber. "Is it my birthday? Pancakes on a TUESDAY!" he gleamed. "Yep! why the hell not right?" I said. And we sat there in food silence, eating and waking while it was still dark outside. Of course the boy went right back to sleep with another twenty minutes left before the first SNOOZE hit.

snazzy William Sonoma Pancake Pen ooooooo, ahhh!

As I washed the batter bowl I began to dote on my William Sonoma Pancake Pen. It was one of those purchases that I was completely against as it seemed unnecessary and silly. "Why do we need that?" eyes scanning sarcastically over to the boy. "Because why don't we??? We're getting it." he stammered. And damn it I'm glad we did! It makes regular pancakes a breeze and all the same size which I love! And it makes using pancake molds an absolute dream. Just don't forget the cooking spray.
   Placing the decomposed pen into the rack, I began to think, "I'm getting the hang of this being home thing....finally." I haven't been depressed or bummed out, no tears, no anxiety....just being. And what a gift its been. To be able to have time and energy to appreciate everything around me and not worry about it. >>>sigh<<<  If I know Murphy's Law, I'm sure this means I'll be getting a job soon and it will all end. So I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts. In the now.

nummy pancake molds from WS. The Star Wars ones really do rock.

I had the dishes done, boy's lunch made and dog fed by 7am. As I stood outside overseeing Fiona's business, one of our neighbors rushed past me, my jammy pants shuttering in her breeze. Her heels clacked the sidewalk hard, traveling coffee mug in hand, and she stopped short as she boarded her Saturn SE. Her eyes traveled the length of my leisurely gear in judgment and she furrowed her brow at me. As she shoved her bag into the back seat, I raised my arm--poop bag in hand. "HAVE A NICE DAY!" I smiled buoyantly, waving the poop bag back and forth. She paused, furrowed again and then quickly slammed her door. I knotted the bag and looked down to see Fiona, smiling at me, proud of her poop. "COME ON GIRL! COME ON!" I yelled as she chased me up the alley to the dumpster, the sunlight pouring past the palm trees and nearby apartments.

And thats all I have to say about people like that. I'm tired of letting them make me feel bad for what happened, for where I am right now. I'm sorry some of them are jealous. I'm tired of people asking me [what the status is?] and worrying for me. I'm thirty-fucking-one years old. I got here didn't I? I have faith that I'll figure it out and thats all anyone needs to know.

listening to : Florence + the Machine

Honest Elly

Honesty....I love it.  <3

THIS END UP ----->

So the boy and I got to talking tonight about "what if's?" in terms of major disasters. In light of whats currently happening in Japan, its a little hard not to imagine what one would do in such a situation. We tried to formulate a plan : where would we head first? what if there was no way to reach anyone? should we have a meeting point? what about our families? what if we're not together when it happens? what about the dog? And that was pretty much the last straw for me. My mind started to drift off and sale away to anxiety island. And I'm actually surprised at this! Usually I'd be able to handle a discussion like this without launching a full attack of tears. But all i could do was picture the most dire scenario: the city in ruins, me wandering the streets ALONE, writing messages on buildings, trying desperately to get to the boy. 

The thought of the possibility of loosing everything you have in matter of minutes....I can't even fathom. I'm not sure if its the right thing to do but at some point you really do have to turn the television off and stop watching the news. Or you'll go crazy. And honestly, the reality is that we're always in danger of loosing everything, every minute of the day. Life wouldn't be so beautiful and mysterious and amazing if it weren't for that fact. "FRAAAG-EE-LE," as they say in A Christmas Story. 

From the open door of the bathroom (because we're THAT couple) I yelled to the boy who was in the computer room,"What about a zombie attack??" "NOT gonna happen. NOT possible," he said while reading. "But how do you know?" I bugged. "Because you can't reanimate dead tissue." says he. "But what if the government has some secret terrorist tissue weapon and they CAN reanimate dead tissue???" I continued. "Then I'll just have to try and remember that you're my favorite zombie, and not to axe your head."  <3  

Thank god for the boy's sense of humor and the half of Xanax thats getting me to sleep tonight. :o)

You've got the love...

Recently I finished this painting. Some of my heros posed as The Holy Trinity : Samantha Stevens, Martha Stewart and Julia Child. And now every time I brown meat, pull a frozen pizza from the oven, or boil water in my beloved kettle, they are there for me. Watching, guiding and inspiring the lady of this house. 

listening to : Florence and the Machine - You've got the love

click to enlarge

I heart La Roux

OK. so. I'm kinda crushing on this right now...

love love love....