Yesterday you said you'd call Sears

Lord have mercy, but it was a scorcher. Naturally, today's the day I was outside at the history center's farm (and naturally, I left my water bottle at home). Boy howdy.

All this heat has fried my creative juices, evidently. Makes me wonder what my excuse is every other day of the week.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by one of the most underrated films in Walt Disney Pictures' repertoire:

Yes, ladies and gents, I'm referencing the ubiquitous Heavyweights. NEVER LET ANYONE SIGN YOUR CHECKS

David has Darkwing Duck on DVD

So that's been my Thursday evening. Let's get dangerous, y'all. And also a bit nostalgic.

Piddle, Twiddle, and Resolve

Don't make your presence known; rather, make your absence felt.

I do hope I can do both: the former, a little less boisterously, the latter, a little less pitifully.

Don't cry, Shopgirl.

Don't cry.

(Already missing your wit and rom-com ways, Ms. Ephron.)

Deliver us

The Prince of Egypt needs to be re-imagined into a Broadway show. Great idea, or greatest idea?

I mean, take a gander at that opening number. That stuff should totally be on stage. The music is epic and booming, the visuals could be truly stunning and, let's face it: Broadway needs Egypt's presence again (looking at you, Aida).

That, and for purely selfish reasons, I want to originate the role of Miriam. What? I could sing the heck out of her delightfully alto-tastic solos. Listen here:

Man. I miss the simplistic beauty of 2-D animation, too. You listening, Dreamworks and Disney? No? Out to make money? Okay, that's fair.

The little things

We really do take too much for granted.

Case in point: air conditioning in a Georgia summer. When it's working, you don't think anything of it. In fact, you might even bellyache that it's too cold sometimes. When it's not working, boy howdy, look out.

I'll tell you this much -- as soon as the maintenance guy comes to fix this business, you can better believe I won't take climate control for granted ever again.

Step up to the mic

Any Saturday that ends in a viewing of House Party has essentially achieved baller status.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by the eternal dialogue of nodding between Kermit the Frog and Christian Bale.

Hmm. Yes. Yes, I see.

Not this time

I'll spare you all the build-up: the house fell through.

We had the home inspection scheduled today and, though I didn't have the privilege of walking through the whole thing, David did. The news? Not so good.

Structure beam problems. Poorly supported back deck. Bathrooms leaking into the basement. Problems with the chimney. Punctured air ducts. Faulty circuit breaker. Disconnected vents. A microwave that isn't hooked up properly. An AC unit that won't work. Bats in the attic.

Okay, I admit the bats in the attic is kind of awesome. But nevertheless, it's too much faulty stuff. The seller was fixing all of this stuff himself, and we just can't trust him to fix this stuff correctly, even if we made it part of our condition of getting the house.

Conclusion: Not that house, boys and girls.



I'm okay with this. I really am. Well, what I mean to say is that I'm okay now. I was not okay earlier today. In fact, I was the complete opposite of okay. I was a sniveling, sobbing mess. I'm sick and tired of investing my feelings in a place, getting up hopes and dreams that this will be the place we raise our children in, the place where we'll have decades of Christmases and birthdays, only to have it yanked out from under me.

Yes, I'm okay. But it's still pretty lame, you guys.

A Tad Less Liquid

Started off the day with good intentions: a protein shake, a chug of cranberry juice, multivitamin, olive leaf extract...

...And then someone brought doughnuts to the office.

I only had one, mind. But still. I felt downright wretched. What's more, I decided to return the warming trays from a previous Qdoba-catered event on my lunch break, and what do I discover? "Oh, you remembered to give these back to us? How 'bout a free entree, soldier?" I mean, what was I supposed to do, not have a free lunch? So, I had a veggie burrito, minus the tortilla, and a handful of chips. Shameful.


I was already planning on misbehaving tonight, though, since I had a girls' night with Lorien at Ru San's (for any of my loyal listeners in the area, this place has delicious sushi. Three pieces for $1.25! You best believe I was mixing and matching like a boss), and followed it up with some oolong tea. Came home and brewed myself some green tea, popped a Benadryl, and I'm calling it a night.


Tomorrow, though, I'm trying to keep it liquid. At least through lunch, because I know David ain't going to be too keen on chicken broth for supper.

Mmm, liquidy.

Okay, I cheated. A little. I had a Special K bar.

Other than that, though, I've maintained my liquid-entirely diet: soy protein shake, cranberry juice, tomato juice, chicken broth, lotsandlotsandlots of water, multivitamin, olive leaf extract, and copious amounts of green tea.

And, believe it or not, I feel pretty all right. Might give it another go for most of tomorrow. (Already giving myself a bye for dinner, though. SUSHI.)

Juicy

Thanks to a recent poll of my Facebook pals, I think I'm going to try to detox over the next few days. If nothing else, it'll be a liquids-only gig to see how it'll make me feel.

Organic non-cocktail cranberry, apple, and tomato juice will be my best pals. If I'm desperate for protein, I'll heat up some beef or chicken broth.

I'll let you chaps know how it goes.

Operation Skinflint McGee

We're still on the fast track to buying the aforementioned amazing house. This is all grandly exciting, but from now until the end of July, David and I are in dire need of retaining as much cash money as we can from our paychecks to ensure we keep said house. We're in great shape financially, but I'm kind of in panic mode that something horribly unforeseen is going to go awry at the closing, so. For the next month-and-some-change, we're spending money on (1) utilities, (2) rent, (3) gas, (4) essential groceries. Annnnnd that's essentially it.

That most likely means I'm going to be getting awfully creative with cheap-or-free things to do. Maybe I'll share them here for all two of my avid readers.

In the meantime, here's a freebie to tide you over:

Ideal Moisturizing/Cleansing Mask For Obscenely Sensitive Skin:

1 tbsp. plain yogurt +

1 tbsp. oatmeal (the real stuff, preferably ground up) +

a teensy-tiny pinch of honey =

heaven for my skin

No really. Try it.

Quick

Before I forget to blog before bed, I'll say this: 1776 is the greatest darn movie, I'll tell you what.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by my favorite old-school crew (Our Gang):

"There's a baby throwin' money out the window! C'mon!"

Thar she blows

After a few months, several mix-ups, one tour, dozens of phone calls, dozens more emails, a great deal of papers-signing, and a great deal more papers-signing to come, we've scored ourselves one delightful crib.

It's contingent on a successful home inspection, but so far all signs point to that dear little house becoming our very own. And it's so cute - the curb appeal of a traditional home and the open floor plan of a contemporary style. No sir, can't complain.

Featuring my folks-in-law.

Provided all goes according to plan, we'll be able to close the deal and move in by the end of July. At the end of next month, we'll have a house. We'll be homeowners. Granted, I'm not going to start any sort of happy dance until I have a house key in my hand and the property in our name, but this is a darn good start.

Mother Nature is having a hissy fit

There's a crazy display of thunder, lightning, torrential downpours, and -- oh, right, hail. It's been hammering against my window and I've been consistently scared that it's someone breaking in.

In my window. On the third floor. In a hailstorm.

And, y'know, my cats are all, "Smeh, nature. Dun care."

25 Things About the Tonys

I've finally crawled out of my hole of a bogged-down work week, the excitement of putting an offer in on a house (!!!), and my own general sense-of-having-an-outside-life-ness to finally watch the Tony Awards.

I'll say this much: I was actually successful in keeping my big nose out of social media until I watched it. I knew there'd be spoilers, and I wanted to watch it with no knowledge of who'd win. I know it shouldn't have been, but those were the 50 longest hours ever, gang.

And now, with no further ado, here's a stream-of-consciousness collection of some of my favorite bits from the show. (Note: Spoilers abound beneath the cut.)

Je suis artiste

And now we bring you my latest and greatest attempt at a painting class - an endeavor which may likely make the motif for the guest bedroom in our eventual house a beachy one.

PS: The Tonys-related media blackout is still effective. Hesh up.

On a media blackout until I can watch the Tonys

So until I'm reunited with my DVR, if I catch word of any spoilers, I'll keel you. Don't test me, boys and girls.

Drawing a blank

Something tells me that I've used that subject line before, but it bears true tonight as much as it did then. I'm finding myself more than a little discouraged when I turn to this blog every day. I mean, who's reading it? And if folks are reading it, what in Heaven's name am I writing about that has any bearing at all?

Mreh.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you by Huey Lewis and the News:

I could watch Bateman rock out to the Fore! album for hours. Just me? Okay.

David had to go and mention cupcakes

So now he just ran to Kroger in search of some. At 10:30 at night. I mean, he had to go get cereal for tomorrow morning, but still.

Just another day in the life.

Thankful

Instead of moping and letting my perpetually sour mood get to me today, I'm going to turn it upside down with some good old-fashioned gratitude:

I'm thankful for my husband. He's spirited, funny, sincere in his faith, and absolutely brilliant. He coaxes a smile out of me even on my droopiest days and gathers me up in the best hugs and kisses. He's heart-meltingly handsome. He's my dream come true, my Prince Charming. Projectile vomit all you want, but it's true. I'm even happier now than I've ever been, and it's thanks to him.

I'm thankful for my family (both in-laws and my blood-related "out-laws"). They embody what it means to be always able to come home, to come to them with any of my concerns. My parents are beautiful, life-enriching people that I adore (and miss) with all my heart. I have a sister who has grown up so beautifully and has become a best friend, and I'm so proud of her. My parents-in-law have welcomed me into their family with open arms and a loving heart.

I'm thankful for my friends. They take me as I am, love the stuffings out of me in spite of it, and they make my heart happy. I joke with them, gorge myself on junk food with them, adore the same movies and TV shows with them, and spend hours giggling about everything and nothing with them. They're quick to encourage, quick to provide a hug and a willing, ready-to-listen ear, and slow to judge. I adore them. Every single one of them. Especially the ones that have come to be like family. <3

I'm thankful for my faith. Following Christ as an American can come with a few stigmas, most (if not all) I hope I put to rest in the example I set. I'm called to love the Lord with all my heart, soul, and mind, and to love my neighbor as myself (Matthew 22:37-39). I'm grateful for Christ's sacrifice and for the gravity of what it means. It's an honor and a privilege to serve God and to find ways to bless others. It makes my heart happy, complete. I know that when I'm fully immersed in God's presence, I'm doing what I'm designed to do. What I was born to do. It feels good.

I'm thankful for my job. Yes, it's not what I went to school to do. It's not even a passion of mine. In fact, I don't even find myself believing in the company very much at all, but it's a job, one that pays rather well, with hours that can't be beat, an understanding and human boss, and a rather fantastic group of co-workers. I'm valued there, and for right now, that's sufficient for me, professionally. It jives quite well with my work-to-live mentality.

I'm thankful for my home. Living in Dunwoody is fantastic -- I love being this close to Buckhead and that much closer to Midtown. Our apartment is small, but a cute sort of small. It's just enough of what we need, and it's downright cozy. It's warm, like a home should be. It overlooks what will eventually become a park, and on misty mornings it looks more akin to an English moor. I can walk to the grocery store (something I did today, as a matter of fact). I love living in Georgia, and I love being an honorary Southern Belle.

I'm thankful for my fur-babies. I'm not a natural mother yet (and won't be for some time), so it's kind of nice to practice parenting on Mia and Vega. Yes, they sleep 23 hours a day, and sometimes they puke on the carpet early in the morning and fight with each other, but I love them. They never resist a cuddle sesh when I'm sitting on my bed with my laptop (Mia's curled up at my feet right now, sleeping, and twitching too, if that wasn't adorable enough), and they always find a way to chat with me in their own, meandering, meow-y language. They make me smile, and I love them.

Guys, I'm blessed.

Quantity

Fine, I'll say it: I regret making this a new-year's resolution. This whole blogging-once-a-day business has cramped my style considerably. And my "my style," I mean my uncanny ability to spin a spirited yarn.

That being said, I'll wax prosaic on this:

The funny thing about Benadryl is that it makes me feel like I'm moving through Jell-O. I've had to take it for a few days now to curtail a histamine-ridden reaction that's been plaguing me for the past week, but boy howdy does it render me useless. It doesn't render me as useless as the giant red painkiller pills I had to take after my wisdom teeth extraction (that one had me dancing with the curtains, I kid you not), but I'm pretty ineffective with OTC antihistamines, too, as it would appear.

This, as well as many more reasons, is why I don't do drugs or imbibe in excessive alcohol, gang.

Monday

Not so rotten compared to what it could've been, and concluded by applesauce chicken and You Don't Know Dixie.

Verdict: could've been a lot worse for a Monday, and my daily blog entry could've been a lot better.

All alone in a faceless crowd

Oh, Hanson. How your 1997 lyrics still speak to me, long after my awkward 11-year-old inadequacy feelings:

When you live in a cookie-cutter world, being different is a sin
So you don't stand out, but you don't fit in
Weird

Listening to these lyrics, I'm shifting my perspective away from the mere feelings of social anxieties that every teenager went through, and more toward the present conundrums I'm facing as a twentysomething:

I'm too liberal to be taken seriously among my staunchly conservative friends. I have too conservative a mindset to be valued by my liberal friends.

I don't drink as much as most adults I know (by any stretch of the imagination), yet I have enough of an occasional drink to be tsk-tsked at by my tee-totalling acquaintances.

I've got tremendously introverted tendencies, but I long for the social interaction with folks I care about.

I care precious little about my role in Corporate America, but I like the value of bringing home my own bacon.

I have too much of a life to devote it solely to an online presence, but I still spend way too much time social media-ing.



Look, I'm aware that everyone goes through this stuff. I just wish I didn't feel so daggoned self-contradictory. Anyone else?

Absolutely Southern

Today, I got to see the town that was the setting for Tara in Gone With The Wind, visited the Whistle Stop Cafe (made famous by Fried Green Tomatoes), ate at a swanky Chick-fil-A, all in one gloriously temperate, blue-skied day with my husband.

I'd say I was pretty darn productive.

Here it is

Your Friday moment of zen, brought to you in crackly, bouncing, old-time-cartoony fashion: