Project Runway

HUH? WHAT! Gretchen won. She of the one tone boring clothes. She won? Holy crap aneedies, I could do better than that. Have these people ever heard of COLOR?

Can you guess that Gretchen wasn't myfavorite. Too much of a bossy boots if you ask me of course it would have been worse had Ivy gotten far enough to win. She reminded me too much of the evil voodoo lady. They both had that same temperment and it had nothing to do with them being asian. If I don't like you, it's something you earned for yourself and not a circumstance of birth.

I do wish Mondo would have won. I do so like the geeky gay guys. Makes me want to invite them home and feed them.

But the most important question of all is....

NOw what am I going to watch on Thursdays?

So just TELL me already!

A couple of nights ago, while I was wandering through the living room on my way ot the kitchen for orange juice, I noticed that the time on the fios box read 11:11. I thought it rather odd and went my way. Then one morning I stumbled out of the bed room and into the living room to check the time and there is was 11:11. I thought "huh" and thought no more about it. Until the third time I saw the time as 11:11 on the living room box. By this time, it was starting to get weird and then, last night as I went into the craft room to turn off my desk lamp, I glanced up and..... you guessed it. 11:11.

OK. Now I'm spooked. First it was winged things and now this 11:11 stuff. So I googled it. yep you can google 11:11 and what did I learn? Angels. Yep. 11:11 is my angels ways of reminding me that they are there. At least that's what the site said. Angels or Spirit Guardians. It makes sense. I am a great believer in Angels and my family has a group of them that take good care of us. I am always talking to them, sometimes aloud, thanking them for all they do. I try not to ask too much. I rarely ask for a parking spot and occasionally I will ask them to help me find something as I start to rev myself up into the ridiculous OCD I develop when I'm looking for something that eludes. I don't ask for them to help me find the thing but, rather, keep me from jumping on the merry go round that speeds up in my head when frustrated. (I have even made a sort of shrine in a cigar box and whenever I take pictures of it, there are always orbs showing up in the picture. I can take pictures of the rest of the house but only get orbs around the shrine.

So. Angels. I'm now thinking that the winged things are being sent by my angels as well only I don't know WHY! 13 years in the library made me irritated with any unanswered questions. I want to know why and how and when and what color and all the rest. So what are the angels trying to tell me? Am I supposed to prepare myself for something and if so, what. Could they just send a note? Tie it to one of the winged things. I hate not knowing and what if I miss the whatever and not even recognize it? After all this buildup it would be a let down.

Still it is nice to know that the 'guys' are around. Good to know that I haven't chased them away with my constant needs.I hope they know how grateful I am for their constant care of me. I just wish I knew what it all meant.

Oh and the site is www.1111spiritguardians.com.

One of the benefits of growing old

I was in Michaels yesterday trying to destress from a rotten day in the office and I had a revelation. There I stood looking at aisles and piles of glittery, gooey Christmas ornaments, doo dads and what nots and realized that I don't have to do it anymore. i don't have to find just the right ornament for the tree or table top or door or dog. No siree, I have more ornaments et al than should be legal. Last count was 17 boxes and that's what is just in the attic. A place I no longer visit after I fell out of it one Christmas season.

An aside: Falling out of the attic, well really off the top of the ladder, I'd have to be an idiot to fall out of the big old square attic hole, taught me a several things 1: I really CAN'T fly no matter how many times I can in my dreams. 2: gravity IS really and truly stronger in the crap room (where the attic access is located) because it felt as if I was pulled off the ladder. C:I don't need to use ALL of the ornaments in the attic every year. $ While people feel badly for you when you fall out of or off, they really can't help chuckling because, damnit, it is funny to think of it. 5: And when your husband asks where you are when you fall, the answer isn't on the floor because... well.. see #1.

So I ave all of these ornaments and a small house and no longer the zest for all the hoo haw that goes along with Christmas. The sons are grown. Even when my mother was alive and my sister human (now she channels my mother and I'm STILL on the shit list) they never wanted to come to my house. Why? I suspect it's because we have.. glance over your shoulder, lower your voice to a whisper and say CHA_Nee-Nah's. Che-nee-nahs is a duck blood soup that looks nearly black in the bowl and despite the fact that the two whole houses in the neighborhood are African American and way down the street it still taints the air. Of course my mother was upset about the Greekan people who lived across the street from her house. I wonder what she'd say about the Asians across the street?

I'm rambling. I tend to do that when I have a captured audience.

Back to Christmas decorating... I don't have to do it! Stand up a tree, throw on the polymer clay ornaments, string lights and slap some wreathes on the wall and I'm set. So now I don't have to decided between this glittery bauble or that, or decided whether I want to spen $17 for a styrofoam cone covered with feathers, and will this break when someone knocks the tree over. Another Aside. We once lived in a small apartment whose stairs led up right from our own front door. I came home one day to find the Christmas tree at the bottom of the stairs. I dragged it back up, redecorated it and the next day it happened again. Did the drag decorate thing and this time I was around when the tree fall happened. Out cat would climb to the top of the tree, shake it till it fell over and then he'd ride the thing down the stairs. I moved the tree as far from the stairs as I could. Ha!

So no tree slides, no flipping baby Jesus... another aside but I won't go there and let the imagery haunt you... no coordinating colors, no theme. So with all of that off my mind I am free to obsess over other things. Too bad obsessing doesn't lead to weight loss. If it did, my weight would be in negative numbers.

Flights of Fancy

I often find myself going on flights of fancy. I figure since my train of thought often derails a flight of fancy makes sense and there is no check in bag charges.

So I decided to stop this AM for a Super Big Gulp at 7-11. As I stood thee with it in my hand, I wondered if I finished a whole Super Big Gulp would it give me super powers. However, with my luck I would end up with some nonsensical super power like Super Hairgrowing or House cleaning or SHUDDER Super Data Entry! Tah Dah!

Maybe I could live with it but now I'm thinking about my Super Hero costume. I'd have to settle on a color. I love yellow but it isn't a good color for me. Red is overused... thank you spider man et al. How about a teal? It would have to be a darkish color so it wouldn't show the dirt and Dark is slimming.

Speaking of slimming there's that whole one piece spandex costume which, I;m certain doesn't come with those belly/fanny ruffles you find on big ladies' bathing suits. A ruffle would just spoil the whole Super Hero look. I could probably work around the whole lumpy spandex look ---where's Austin Scarlet when you need him--- but I KNOW what would be my downfall... the &^@^$())*^ cape.

A cape, a long piece of fabric dragging on the ground, getting caught in car door and automatic doors and wrapping itself around my head when it's windy. I'd trip on it, or tear it and at the least drop food on it, though turning it around would make a handy old lady bib. So I think I'll skip the whole super hero thing. Will I still drink the Super Big Gulp with or without power? I'm guzzling it now. Burp

This and That or That and This

It's been a week here at the Insane Asylum. Ooops. Did I say that out loud? Ahem, At the Office. Long hours, rushed clients, and tears. Usually mine because it can be damned depressing dealing with people who are losing their home. And then I was worried because Rocco the Wonder Dog was Rocco the Limping dog. But last night he was back to all four feet and i knew he was feeling good because he was barking again at every little sound.. It is his job, you know, to keep us safe from the UPS guy and little kids on their bikes. I wonder what he'd do if he spotted a UPS guy ON a bike. I'm guessing Rocco's head would explode. Then I hear that the major mortgage companies may be freezing foreclosures which could mean the death of our company but we made money this week and I am doing my best to ignore the maybe impending doom.

So the week is nearly over and out clients have left and if I can get Michael to make the calls he has to we may be able to cut out of here early. I always find myself anxious to gt home and squirrel myself away in my crap room. Glitter and glue and feathers and clay and paper always make me feel better.

And speaking of better. I am one of those people who are always in pain. I mean I have a toe that lets me know when a storm is brewing and knees that predict just plain old rain. My thumb aches with on coming snow and a hip that kills me just because it can. I swear my body has a mind of it's own. Otherwise why would my collar bone ache and my eyebrows hurt? So last Saturday we went to the Fells Point Festival and there was a guy selling these magnetic bracelets that were supposed to help with whatever it was that ails you. Now I have never believed in that hoo haw but Michael was suddenly pushing me to spend what I thought was way too much money for magnets stuck together. Sometimes it's just easier to give in, so i did. Yes, I GAVE IN! Out of character, I know, but blame Tim Gunn's book.

So there I was the proud owner of a magnetic bracelet strong enough to stick me to the space shuttle when, by the end of the block at Fell's point the hip that has been hurting for a decade was silenced. Holy mackanolly! No hip pain AND i actually seem to have a bit more energy. My dreams are more vivid and my eyebrows are behaving. It could be that magnets work or it could just be the placebo effect and I think I don't hurt but either way my hip no longer hurts! Oh and I tried going to sleep without the bracelet and the hip pain woke me. Bracelet back on and yowza! Pain gone again.

But the best part is when I lose my keys in the office or they fall out of my hand, the bracelet is always there to grab hold. So what if I set off the walk out of the door alarm at Wal-Mart. Gotta give those greeters something to so.

I love Project Runway

I love Project Runway. Yes, it does deserve to be repeated. I love the creativity even if some of the designers drive me crazy, and the crazy personalities though I must admit that, at, times, I'm glad I'm not around said crazy personality. One nut in a room is enough. But most of all what I love about Project Runway is Tim Gunn. Yes, the pale man in the impeccable suit. He is what was once referred to as a gentleman and in this day in age when reality shows have house wives at each other's throats and house mates calling each other bitches, it is such a pleasure to watch, a gentleman. Even when he's ticked at someone, Kenley and Gretchen come to mind, he is still a gentleman who doesn't even raise his voice.

I had always wanted to have lunch with Dave Barry figuring he would be so funny that I could actually squirt soda out of my nose during a laugh but I've changed my mind. I would rather have lunch with Tim Gunn and bask in his.. gentleness.

I think Gentleness is missing in the world. The kind of gentleness that makes you hold your tounge instead of shrieking at someone that they are a stinking scum bag and should die. A murmured "A pox on you" should work just as well, or nothing at all but it is hard to turn away when attacked and pox does come in handy.

One winter day when the kids were in the yard the older one came in to tell me that a big boy on a motor cycle was driving up and down the street and cussing at them each time he passed, using the forbidden F word. Now I could have gone out and ripped the guy a new one but what would that solve. Instead I told my 7 year old son that he should feel sorry for the big boy who doesn't know any words with more than four letters in them. Josh nodded wisely, went back outside and when the big boy tried this again, Josh told him how sorry he was that the big boy only knew 4 letter words and the cussing stopped.

I am happy to say that both sons are gentlemen. I cannot take all the credit for their father is a gentleman as well and I see much of him in them. A gentleman looks after family and friends and helps others without expecting anything in return.
I am very proud of Casey and his behavior one vacation when he heard a guy and a girl arguing and the guy trying to hustle her off the board walk. Casey stood and watched gauging the situation and as the guy pulled the girl down the ramp Casey went after them, Michael followed.

It was just an argument and the girl said she didn't need any help so my men turned around, came back upon the boardwalk and we went our way as if nothing extraordinary had happened. But it had, gentlemen at work. How often do we see that.

And Maybe, just maybe, I love Tim Gunn because I see my men in him and I love them to death.

Someday I hope to live up to their example and become a lady but I have my doubts. Sometimes I just enjoy being rotten.