Saturday, September 06, 2003

no soup for you!

That's right...all work, no play today. I've been wrapping, stitching and dyeing all day--making stuff for the TACA fair in Nashville at the end of the month. Considering how freakin' tired I am I have precious little to show for it, but I have a pole full of arashi bound silk that can't come off for at least 24 more hours or more, so I guess I am just impatient. The dyeing happens fast compared to the felting and figure-making (the slowest). When I need somewhat immediate gratification I dye; when I need to work out anger and get physical, I felt; when I'm in need of serious "existential tuning," as one person put it, I work on figures. My different stages of heaven depend on how long my attention span is for the day.

I didn't get to go the local blogger get together last night. Hubby was out-of-town and I'm not enough of an extravert to just show up at a table full of strangers. But I did go to my first "gallery reception" where my stuff was being displayed. It was weird quite frankly. I almost had to make myself stay. Thank goodness Michelle showed up because I was getting itchy in my own skin. I felt like I was walking around in my underwear. Michelle took pity on me and bought me dinner to celebrate (thanks, M!!!). That was so cool of her, especially considering I don't have a freakin' dime right now. I mean, if it ain't necessary, I don't buy it. I know this dry spell is temporary, but it's tough and at times, scary.

So, on the way home from the reception, this 95-pound college chick in a big red SUV cuts me off. This really irritated me since we were all going to stop at the red light anyway and there was plenty of space behind me. So I pull up right behind her, lips pursed, cussing under my breath. The light turns green and apparently she's not too good with a clutch. She rolls back a little. Then a little more, then SMACK--right into me. I honk my horn. She pulls her little 95 pound ass off into a church parking lot and we get out. Luckily, the bump did no damage, and since I did not feel like dealing with this shit, I say "don't worry about it." She's repeating, "I'm so sorry" in a very practiced tone, like please don't tell my dad, he'll make me pay for something. I just want to go home you know? It's been a weird day. So, we get back into our cars and I'll be damned if she didn't almost run into me again going through the parking lot. On the way home she pulled off into some very expensive fat-daddy-subsidized college apartments.

Today I get up and our mailbox has received it's monthly beating, except this time it's nearly twisted off its pole with the actual box being totally upside down. I keep trying to figure out how I can set up a booby trap for these boobs, but I can't come up with anything that's feasible and legal, so I have to let it go.

And I still can't figure out where the cat pee smell is coming from. I've had the windows open all day trying to air the place out.

Note to self: take big red and white target off back.


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