This is me, gasping for air and a moment to sit down and put in some much needed time at the computer. So much is happening, between my hair falling out from stress.. and me pulling at it... That I've had barely a moment to sit down and think. Much less shave my legs, which I attempted to do with the spare toothbrush in the shower this morning.
So here goes.. Week Day Update with me.
Last Friday, we decided that we wanted to buy a home. By Wednesday we had a mortgage, Friday we put in an offer. (My advice to first time buyers? Offer low.. I don't know what happened, but I offered 10 thousand dollars less.. and they took it!) It took me and B. by storm.. but I think it's the right thing to do. We're so excited! We'll know by the 29th if everything has gone through. If it hasn't.. well, we've decided to become owners, and not much can stop us now.. *laugh* I never thought that I would read any sort of legal agreement, become familiar with the term "lien" or need a lawyer before I was at least 30, divorced, and angry. Who knew that at 20, not divorced, destitute but not angry that I would learn all this? Not me. Certainly not on Thursday two weeks ago.
If it wasn't enough for us to delve into the real estate market, we have to do it with a time constraint. We're leaving for India Oct. 1st to visit my lovely family. We leave our five degree weather for the 38 degree weather in Delhi. So we've been frantically packing, arranging, making lists.. making lists of the lists that we're losing, arranging rides to and from the airport.. And attempting (without much success) to get inoculated against Hepatitis A. And while it's rare that people get it in North America (other than Pamela Anderson..) apparently it's added to the water like fluoride over there. Fluoride that nobody knows about.. So, in between trying to buy a home ( a delightful, lofty, lovely, halfway beautiful home) we're also trying to prepare for our little jaunt around the world.
Thus the reason I tried to shave my legs with the toothbrush.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Ms. Poshlust has a Party
I'm a bit of a perfectionist. So when we decided to have our friends over for dinner on Friday night, I started cleaning the house on Tuesday. My poor B. couldn't walk on his own kitchen floor. But, I have to admit, our apartment was beautiful, the flowers (thanks to Artworks and the lovely Stephanie) were perfect, the candles were lit, the artfully mismatched settings and flatware just so, the musicmatch set to an ideal playlist and volume.
Ah. The best laid plans.
We never checked the propane for the barbeque. That is, as far as we can see, our first mistake. The second was supposing that our somewhat decrepit and extremely ancient barbeque would have made it intact through another summer. Oh fate, how I cried. Looking somewhat lost in my own very smoky kitchen, entertaining a surprise 4 year old girl with various tubes of sparkles and the select few pencil crayons I had, peering through the smoke of my broiler ruining my meat.. I think I smelled a little fire and brimstone of my own personal hell.
I don't know if any of you have 4 year old children, nieces, nephews. But who knew that pork sate and garlic green beans weren't a hit without ketchup and being chopped into minute pieces. I do now. And hell, if we don't eat until 8, who'd think it would be a bad idea to stuff the kid with a few banana's and wheat free crackers. Sometimes I wonder how I'll ever mother a child.
Believe it or not, we made it through dinner with the help of two and a half bottles of wine, one Mike's Hard limonade and the extreme grace and beautiful smiles of our very hungry guests. Desert was lovely, not even leaving the cake in the car for an hour could ruin it. My wonderful fantastic mother is an ideal host. No problem too big, no food too burnt to save, so request to big to acquiesce to...All the while looking stunning, wowing all the men and winning all the women. I remember sitting at the top of the stairs when I was little, listening to the laughter, the food smells, the whispers of jokes and gossip, the clink of wine glasses, thinking of when I would be able to do this.
At the beginning of the evening, sashaying through downtown, cake box and flowers in hand, I wondered how come I didn't do this more often, the taste of success and crinkle of thank you notes racing through my head.. At the end of the night I realised that while perhaps I had inherited only the ability to set a beautiful table and win all the men, next time I would hire a bartender and cater the food.
And leave all the children in the car.
Ah. The best laid plans.
We never checked the propane for the barbeque. That is, as far as we can see, our first mistake. The second was supposing that our somewhat decrepit and extremely ancient barbeque would have made it intact through another summer. Oh fate, how I cried. Looking somewhat lost in my own very smoky kitchen, entertaining a surprise 4 year old girl with various tubes of sparkles and the select few pencil crayons I had, peering through the smoke of my broiler ruining my meat.. I think I smelled a little fire and brimstone of my own personal hell.
I don't know if any of you have 4 year old children, nieces, nephews. But who knew that pork sate and garlic green beans weren't a hit without ketchup and being chopped into minute pieces. I do now. And hell, if we don't eat until 8, who'd think it would be a bad idea to stuff the kid with a few banana's and wheat free crackers. Sometimes I wonder how I'll ever mother a child.
Believe it or not, we made it through dinner with the help of two and a half bottles of wine, one Mike's Hard limonade and the extreme grace and beautiful smiles of our very hungry guests. Desert was lovely, not even leaving the cake in the car for an hour could ruin it. My wonderful fantastic mother is an ideal host. No problem too big, no food too burnt to save, so request to big to acquiesce to...All the while looking stunning, wowing all the men and winning all the women. I remember sitting at the top of the stairs when I was little, listening to the laughter, the food smells, the whispers of jokes and gossip, the clink of wine glasses, thinking of when I would be able to do this.
At the beginning of the evening, sashaying through downtown, cake box and flowers in hand, I wondered how come I didn't do this more often, the taste of success and crinkle of thank you notes racing through my head.. At the end of the night I realised that while perhaps I had inherited only the ability to set a beautiful table and win all the men, next time I would hire a bartender and cater the food.
And leave all the children in the car.
Thursday, September 02, 2004
It's a Girl...
So this is it.
Where there was once nothing, there's this site. My site. I feel a bit, voyeuristic to tell the truth. Putting my life out there for all to see, to read, to look at. I guess that would make you all voyeurs then..This site began as a small idea.. a place to put a blog, a diary, maybe for me, maybe for others. It's evolved, slowly, and is still evolving, into a place for my art, my stories, my opinions, recommendations, hell, I might even pass along a recipe or two.
So, so far, here I am. I've got an address, a space, a few bad jokes and a good baked brie recipe. Stay tuned.
Where there was once nothing, there's this site. My site. I feel a bit, voyeuristic to tell the truth. Putting my life out there for all to see, to read, to look at. I guess that would make you all voyeurs then..This site began as a small idea.. a place to put a blog, a diary, maybe for me, maybe for others. It's evolved, slowly, and is still evolving, into a place for my art, my stories, my opinions, recommendations, hell, I might even pass along a recipe or two.
So, so far, here I am. I've got an address, a space, a few bad jokes and a good baked brie recipe. Stay tuned.
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