.....aaaand my camera is really broken. Dead. Caput. Figures.
I'll have to borrow Sandy's camera to do this, and that'll be after a week or so. Why? Because in a few hours, we're packing up into Joey and heading on a road trip. Everyone gets three guesses as to where I'm going, and the winner receives a prize! (Unless you already knew, in which case, sit back and smile while everyone guesses away).
Booyah. I love you all, very much in fact, and will alert you upon my return.
Ain't life grand?
Friday, October 19, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
It wasn't until I actually logged on that I realized just how much I missed you all, this... thanks for all your well wishes, it was a bitch of a flu trek made better by the fact that it's OVER! What can I say, I'm not one for being sick.
There's a lot coming up in this little corner of my world: a new look, scheduled posting, a personal trainer, and pictures of the loft. In fact, if you cross your fingers super hard, I just might have them up tomorrow....
If you're reading this, thanks for still coming here and, as always, thanks for your patience.
There's a lot coming up in this little corner of my world: a new look, scheduled posting, a personal trainer, and pictures of the loft. In fact, if you cross your fingers super hard, I just might have them up tomorrow....
If you're reading this, thanks for still coming here and, as always, thanks for your patience.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Thursday, October 04, 2007
I was in the car with Oli, and we were making a quick trip to the store. As Oli pulled into the parking lot, we both noticed a retro silvery blue VW beetle, and that’s when she said, “Hey, isn’t that a vintage Bug?”
I saw it coming a second too late, by then Oli had already socked me in the arm with a whooping, “PUNCH BUGGY BLUE! No pun…”
Ah, the memories of our youth, when we would beat each other senseless in the back seat over beetles seen and unseen. Of course this time around, before Oli could get the “No punch backs,” out in full, I’d cuffed her right back with a, “PUNCH BUGGY SILVER NO PUNCH BACKS!”
“It’s not silver!”
“It sort of is!”
“Alright then, PUNCH BUGGY SILVER BLUE NO PUN… Ow, fucker!”
“You can’t just go and combine colours like that! And I said no punch backs!”
“I can combine whatever I want! You ignored my first no punch back!”
“Cause you didn’t get it out properly! OW! What the hell?”
“I said (punch) PUNCH (punch) BUGGY (punch) BLUE (punch) NO (punch)PUNCH (punch) BACKS!”
“What (punch) the (punch) fuck?” (Keep in mind that throughout all of this, she’s still driving)
“Okay then, (punch) PUNCH (punch) BUGGY (punch) BLUE (punch) BLUE ([punch) SILVER (punch) NO (punch) PUNCH (punch) BACKS!”
“That’s (punch) what (punch) I (punch) said! You (punch ) wanna (punch) be (punch) like (punch) that? PUNCH (punch) BUGGY (punch) PEWTER (punch) NO (punch) PUNCH (punch) BACKS!”
“Pewter? (punch) PEWTER? (punch) IT’S (punch) NOT (punch) PEWTER!”
“It (punch) sort (punch) of (punch) is!”
“Stop!” (punch)
“You stop!” (punch)
And then, in unison: “Why (punch) are (punch) you (punch) still (punch) hitting (punch) me?”
Needless to say, we went into the store both rubbing our shoulders. I forecast a near future of bruises. No one loves a sister like a sister.
I saw it coming a second too late, by then Oli had already socked me in the arm with a whooping, “PUNCH BUGGY BLUE! No pun…”
Ah, the memories of our youth, when we would beat each other senseless in the back seat over beetles seen and unseen. Of course this time around, before Oli could get the “No punch backs,” out in full, I’d cuffed her right back with a, “PUNCH BUGGY SILVER NO PUNCH BACKS!”
“It’s not silver!”
“It sort of is!”
“Alright then, PUNCH BUGGY SILVER BLUE NO PUN… Ow, fucker!”
“You can’t just go and combine colours like that! And I said no punch backs!”
“I can combine whatever I want! You ignored my first no punch back!”
“Cause you didn’t get it out properly! OW! What the hell?”
“I said (punch) PUNCH (punch) BUGGY (punch) BLUE (punch) NO (punch)PUNCH (punch) BACKS!”
“What (punch) the (punch) fuck?” (Keep in mind that throughout all of this, she’s still driving)
“Okay then, (punch) PUNCH (punch) BUGGY (punch) BLUE (punch) BLUE ([punch) SILVER (punch) NO (punch) PUNCH (punch) BACKS!”
“That’s (punch) what (punch) I (punch) said! You (punch ) wanna (punch) be (punch) like (punch) that? PUNCH (punch) BUGGY (punch) PEWTER (punch) NO (punch) PUNCH (punch) BACKS!”
“Pewter? (punch) PEWTER? (punch) IT’S (punch) NOT (punch) PEWTER!”
“It (punch) sort (punch) of (punch) is!”
“Stop!” (punch)
“You stop!” (punch)
And then, in unison: “Why (punch) are (punch) you (punch) still (punch) hitting (punch) me?”
Needless to say, we went into the store both rubbing our shoulders. I forecast a near future of bruises. No one loves a sister like a sister.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Why? A bunch of reasons really, number one being, who would think that the smallest space would need the most work?
I have plans for this room. I want a desk, a good one, because I’m tired of using the pine thingamajig my dad bought when I was 15. I want to get rid of the carpet and put in flooring. I want to paint over the horrible blue I chose, and I want to wallpaper one wall. I want to hang up two pictures I took and developed years ago when I was doing photography. I want to make linen boards, I want to cover up that yucky fuse box; I want this to be my greatest space.
It takes time and it takes money to make a great space, both of which I ran out of before the relatives arrived. They had to be content with what I had so far, this wonderfully purple room which was blue not too long ago. The only things in it are a chair, two rolls of black and white wallpaper, the wallpaper kit to put it up, and two pictures I took over a decade ago, framed and waiting to be put up.
Good things come to those who wait, I’m told, and I really don’t want to rush this. I’m wild over everything else, that it looks so great, that it’s done. The completion of my den, my office, where I’ll do all my work, will have to wait just a little bit longer.
In retrospect, that’s not such a bad thing. After all, I get to be a décor nut for just a little bit longer.
I have plans for this room. I want a desk, a good one, because I’m tired of using the pine thingamajig my dad bought when I was 15. I want to get rid of the carpet and put in flooring. I want to paint over the horrible blue I chose, and I want to wallpaper one wall. I want to hang up two pictures I took and developed years ago when I was doing photography. I want to make linen boards, I want to cover up that yucky fuse box; I want this to be my greatest space.
It takes time and it takes money to make a great space, both of which I ran out of before the relatives arrived. They had to be content with what I had so far, this wonderfully purple room which was blue not too long ago. The only things in it are a chair, two rolls of black and white wallpaper, the wallpaper kit to put it up, and two pictures I took over a decade ago, framed and waiting to be put up.
Good things come to those who wait, I’m told, and I really don’t want to rush this. I’m wild over everything else, that it looks so great, that it’s done. The completion of my den, my office, where I’ll do all my work, will have to wait just a little bit longer.
In retrospect, that’s not such a bad thing. After all, I get to be a décor nut for just a little bit longer.
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