She Takes On...

Just a quick placeholder...

But damn, is it funny! 

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Smells

Wow, it's been way too long since I've blogged! Must not let that happen again.

Smells. It's amazing how a smell can take me back to a particular time in my life. Tonight, for instance, driving home on the GW Parkway, right as I came upon the sailing marina, I was struck with the smell of honeysuckle. Honeysuckle is one of my favorite smells, instantly making me feel like I'm 6 years old again, playing in my back yard. One of our neighbors had a honeysuckle plant that ended up growing semi-wild along the fences separating our back yards and the smell was heady in the summer. It's a combination of youth and innocence all in one - when all was right with the world and there still was a Santa Claus and Easter Bunny and Mom and Dad were the most important and powerful people in my world. The honeysuckle couldn't have actually been growing for more than a half-mile, but as I pulled into my apartment complex, I could have sworn I could still smell it.

Not that this has anything to do with anything, I just was struck by this tonight and needed to get it out there. Obviously there are other smells that instantly remind me of times in my life (Calvin Klein's Obsession will always remind me of my first real love - it was his signature scent. I came across a bottle that was stashed in my parents' linen closet recently and found that it made me wistful... again, for a time that I was young and innocent - before I knew heartache), but that's not what this was going to be about. It was just to - remember, fondly.

Not a whole hell of a lot of other stuff has been going on. There have been some things going on at work that I can't talk about quite yet - but I will blog when I can. Just keep your fingers crossed for me...

It's been 15 years.

Wow. It's hard to believe that it's been 15 years since Kurt Cobain committed suicide. (Okay, the link is there if anyone who isn't of my generation happens upon this.) It's also so weird to see so many blogs - of very differing content - taking a minute this month to remember the man and the band. 

I've always thought that Kurt Cobain was a genius - fucked up, strung out and oh-so-vulnerable, but still a genius. I can still remember hearing the opening strains of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and having it... well, speak to me. How cliched, I know. But honestly, that album turned me from teeny-bopper to grunge girl in record time. One day I was wearing cute outfits that were super-girly and then I started with the flannel shirts, black t's and tights, ripped jeans or babydoll dresses, and my ever-present Docs. I listened obsessively to Nirvana - like most girls do when discovering a new love - and found the lyrics (while majorly fucked up) heartbreakingly honest. Kurt himself often reminded me of a puppy that had been kicked over and over again, still looking for love and approval from someone - anyone, which triggered my nurturing nature... I just wanted to wrap him up in a big hug and tell him everything would be okay.

For my parents' generation the question always is: "Where were you when Kennedy was shot?" For mine, it seems to be: "Where were you found out about Kurt Cobain's suicide?" So... where were you? I was at home - it was a Friday, I believe - and happened to be watching MTV when Kurt Loder broke in with the news that Kurt Cobain's body had been rumored to be found dead by self-inflicted gunshot wound. I remember MTV changing their programming to a vigil - an all night tribute to Nirvana - and I stayed up until 3 that morning, just hoping and wishing that it wasn't true. Yes, I definitely cried too. I had class that next day, bowling - I needed a Phys Ed in college, and the entire class, it seemed, just couldn't function. It didn't matter what genre of music everyone listened to, we all banded together in grief, grieving for a life taken so young. Our instructor didn't really understand what was going on, but he cancelled class so we could all just be. 

Part of me is sad that for the generations following me, Dave Grohl will only be known to them as the lead singer of the Foo Fighters (a great group) and not part of the brilliant trio of Cobain, Grohl and Krist Novoselic - Nirvana. That same part is glad that while kids may not know of it, the music does still survive (though if I ever hear Nirvana on an oldies station, I'll cry) and that it brought focus to a scene that not many people outside of Seattle knew about - grunge/the Seattle Sound. Nirvana pointed me in the direction of Mother Love Bone, Soundgarden, Mudhoney, Pearl Jam, Sonic Youth. Kurt, if you're out there somewhere, thank you for that education in music - and I hope that you have finally found the peace you searched for here on Earth. You are missed.

One of my favorite songs - an outtake from their rehearsal for MTV Unplugged. And of course I had to find the video of the song that started it for me. Enjoy. 

Clutter (actual and mental) and love. A winning combination. Or something.

Perhaps this may be why my life is so cluttered, that I am a packrat and tend to save everything. Honestly, anything that has a good memory associated with it, I save. I know, crazy, right? The idea-board/bulletin board/whatever-the-hell-it-is that sits beside my computer area is full of random crap: ticket stubs to movies and musicals, Christmas cards and postcards, invitations, stickers and pictures, and even knitted swatches (I can only assume that I placed them there to inspire me to work on the sweaters they are for). If something I look at daily to remind and inspire me is this cluttered, is it really any wonder that my apartment is a mess? *sigh* Right now, I'm putting myself on notice: I need to declutter, to reorganize (yes, Michelle, I said reorganize), to clear my house and head. No, that doesn't mean I'm getting rid of some of these memories - some of them, I just can't give up and some, I just won't. (That doesn't sound like it bodes too well for my self-notice, huh? We'll have to see about that.)

See, the fact that I save everything brings me little surprises like this one. A reminder of the Best Second Date Ever in my dating history. While things didn't work out for me and this guy, he was a good guy. We even had a great Last Date, which is very unusual (especially given my last "relationship"). I love surprising myself with the things I've forgotten I've saved - the memory is always a pick-me-up, if it's found on a good day, it becomes an excellent day and if found on a crap day, it instantly becomes better.  

The other week I needed a smaller wallet for my small purse and remembered that I had a wallet that I hadn't used in awhile stashed in my closet. When I opened the wallet, I found this ticket. The memories of the day came flooding back: how he called me while I was on the train to see if I wanted coffee and greeted me with it just the way I liked it. How he took me down to the TKTS booth at South Street Seaport and let me choose the show, took me to dinner and a speakeasy after the show. He was that "perfect on paper" guy. You know, that guy who seems to be everything you ever wanted, but in reality, isn't. We lost touch for awhile, but with the power of Facebook we reconnected - we caught up on each other's lives: he found out how well the shop's been doing and how well I've been doing and I found out that he had found "The One" and married her, changed jobs and is living in Connecticut now. (I won't lie, it was a bit of a shock, but I am truly happy for him.)

All this got me thinking about Love. A few weeks ago, on the way home from a Caps game, my friend Mo and I started talking about the subject - I had answered a Facebook meme with the answer "a lost love" to a question like "what is something that you miss every day?" or some such shit. Now, Mo has known me most of my life and has either known or known about 90% of the men in my life, but he was confused as to who I would consider a "lost love". While I knew who I was talking about, naturally, I didn't know why he made such an impact. If you've read the blog for awhile, you might be able to guess: B. I didn't mean to fall for him - I certainly didn't intend to, especially since he lives in fucking L.A., is an ass, and I only got to see him once or twice a year with lots of texting in between. Who knew that I'd end up feeling more for him than I did for any of my ex-fiances (though I did adore them and still adore one of them)? He just knew me. He had waited almost 20 years for me. Yet, it didn't work. He couldn't do it and dropped off the face of the Earth. So what to do? A part of me still loves him, despite not having talked to him in a year, but it's not like I'm sitting around and waiting or anything. Y'all know me better than that. So what do I do? I date. I actively put myself out there, in hopes that I'll find That Special Person who will supplant B in my heart - and in the meantime, date and have fun. Mo was surprised that B had meant so much to me, mostly because I've done a good job at keeping it hidden. (Mo has known B for as long as he's known me.)

Then, there's my ex, J, who I adore. Life would be so much easier if he and I just fell in love again. Our families would be thrilled - and he is finally in that place that I wanted him to be 9 years ago: ready to get married and have kids. Yet, I don't know if I'm in that place anymore. I had dinner with him the other night, we discussed his work, the fact that he's retiring soon (supposedly)... how his mom misses me. I really got the feeling that his feelings for me haven't really changed in the last few years - when we broke up, it was awful and I had to be away from him. Ultimately, we decided that we had had so much history as friends that it would be foolish to throw that away. Which I'm so glad about. He is the one person who knows me best in this world. This man has watched me truly grow into the woman I am today - he's known me since I was 19, so he knows the good, the bad and the ugly. I love the man, but I'm not in love with him anymore. I'm not ruling out that possibility, but it's not where I'm at right now. I think I've got a few more wild oats to sow.

Okay, this post got a bit out of hand... I didn't mean to just put that all out there, but there it is. I need to let go of one man, think about another, and focus on what I really want. What that is, I don't know, but let's hope the journey is a fun one.

I feel like Cinderella, but without the Fairy Godmother

Cleaning... something that I love when it's done, but absolutely detest doing. No, really, I do. Up until this afternoon, the suitcase I took to Australia was still sitting in the middle of my living room floor - mostly unpacked. (To be fair about the unpacking, I had unpacked all the things that needed to be washed immediately after getting home - all the things that didn't were spring items that I wasn't going to use until... now. Yes, I fully acknowledge my laziness in leaving the suitcase, though.) In fact, it took me the better part of an episode of "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" (don't judge, it was the only thing on and there was a marathon) to clear off the crap that had accumulated on top of it before I could even get to the suitcase. 

Anyway, due to my fabulous employees, I managed to score a weekend off of work where I had nothing else planned - and on the first weekend in Spring, no less - and decided that I needed to do a major clean up of my apartment. Two days later (both of which I woke up late on), progress was made. I can see floor that I haven't seen in awhile. Spring has sprung, indeed. There's a lot more to be done before I can declare myself happy with the progress, but it's progress, nonetheless. The cats are thoroughly confused, especially my "problem kitty" Paisley, but they're exploring the newly found space. (Plus, Pais is really confused that Mommy took away her secret spot to pee - my large silk knitting bag... that cost $100. I'm a little pissed - no pun intended - that she ruined that. However, she is using the second box, so that makes me happy. George is just happy that I've made more room for his Kitty 500 races, but taken the obstacles away. He's special like that.)

So the windows are wide open (I may regret that tomorrow, but whatev), the weather is energizing, and I'm cleaning. Not an easy task, since I'm lazy and a packrat. I'm determined to go through it all and show no mercy for myself. Then, maybe I can have a small get together and have the housewarming party I didn't have 2 years ago. LOL.

Oh, and if you run into a Fairy Godmother brandishing a wand, send her my way please? I'd like for her to get those cute little woodland creatures working for me to get this done quicker. Thanks! 

Good marketing = sucker = me

Those damn Girl Scouts and their Damn Cookies. Yup, I'm blaming them and their excellent marketing for the fact that if I can wear a bikini this summer and not look like a beached whale, it'll be an Act of God. It's like they know that I'm a sucker and they place their most innocent and sweet looking girls out there with the most pitiful looks on their faces that just cry out "If we can't sell all these cookies, they'll take away my uniform! Don't let that happen to us!".

I say this having had both of my (now adult) nieces go through Brownies. Cookie season was big in our house because my parents felt obligated to buy assloads of Damn Cookies from their adorable granddaughters. Luckily, they moved and decided they didn't want to be Brownies/Girl Scouts in their new home. Which was good for my wallet and waistline, though I still feel obligated to purchase a box (or two) from the poor Girl Scouts out in the cold, wintery weather. 

Hence, their good marketing - they set up in front of the Suntrust bank, directly across the street from the Starbucks closest to the shop on Saturdays and Sundays. I could walk across the street opposite them, then cross, but something draws me to them... like a moth to a flame, to sound cliche-d. *sigh* At least I got away with only these two boxes - and one of them isn't even for me! (Not a fan of Thin Mints... I get them for the shop.) ... And, I haven't opened either of them - yet. We'll see how long I can go.

Also, in the good marketing - good packaging. I am a sucker for some good packaging - especially when I'm ordering crap off of the internet. Last week sometime I woke up to an email from Daily Candy featuring a new lip balm by Sara Happ. I'd never heard of her, but hell, I love getting new cosmetics, so of course I looked - and discovered that it is sold at Blue Mercury in Georgetown. Now, I don't go into Georgetown if I can help it (hate the crowds - and it's only bearable in the summer if you're on one of the boats docked there for the day. Not that that will be happening this summer, but I digress) so I went into the shop and ordered it. 

This morning there was a little box from them waiting for me on the doorstep - I'd forgotten all about it until just then. (They also didn't send me a confirmation email or delivery email. Something to think about when processing orders, Blue Mercury.) On opening the box, a gorgeous scent of roses wafted out (I later discovered that they had included dried roses as part of the filler) and buried under the filler were these two boxes, with bows on them like they were gifts! (Yes, I am easy to impress. Tell this to the guys I date.)

Of course I tried them out immediately. The lip scrub has a delicious taste of brown sugar (which, admittedly was overkill with the brown sugar in my oatmeal this morning - but they have a ton of other flavors) which was really easy to use. Just apply on your lips in a circular motion and wipe off with a tissue. A little messy, but it left my lips super-soft and not chapped at all! The lip slip has a really soft, creamy texture (think freshly whipped whipped cream) that's extremely emollient, but a little too sticky for my taste. It leaves a nice shimmer, though. Now, the website says it can be used for hands and cuticles as well, and while that may be, I wouldn't do it. Too damn sticky. I'll save the body butters for that and put this on while I lounge around in a silk robe and be utterly decadent. Or just wear it daily, whatever.

Reason #9752361569 that I'm going straight to hell

Sex in front of a church. 

To be fair, I didn't go looking for it and didn't really realize that we were in front of a church until we were done. Then I started laughing hysterically. Luckily the guy had a sense of humor about it all and we were making jokes about it: the Southern Baptist/Catholic raised girl having sex with the Jewish guy practically on the front porch of the church (I think it was Methodist). I think the only worse things would be if we were in the parking lot (too bright) or actually in the church (WAY too much guilt built into me for that!). Let's not even go into how much I felt like I was in High School - not a bad thing, I just thought my messing around in a backseat days were over.

My compound overlooking the Lake of Fire in Hell just got a little bigger. Short bus to Hell, anyone? We'll have lots to drink. For the knitters, let's hope they don't make us use Red Heart!

(I'm not gonna do any comparisons to other men I may or may not be messing around with... on the blog, at least... for now.)

Musings...

Happy day-after-Mardi-Gras (better known as Ash Wednesday), everyone! Hopefully y'all lived it up last night, now that we're on the 40 days of self-imposed denial Lent. Me, I'm not giving up anything for Lent, simply because I am weak and know that I'd break my Lenten fast in two days. No joke. Happened both years I attended a Catholic school and Sister Benedict would just look at me and shake her head. "You're such a good girl and can't keep to your Lenten promise?" Ummm, no.

This post may seem disjointed. Sorry. I'm just kind of getting out some thoughts that have been stirring around my brain for awhile...

Cobblestone sidewalks are not good for bum knees. Especially if the bum knee is partially a result of the night before and the previous skating injury. (Hey, a good way to celebrate Mardi Gras if I were planning on giving up the activity during Lent... but no.)

I'm thinking of taking down the knitting blog. I haven't blogged on there in almost two years (or has it been two years? I have no clue these days.) - almost for as long as Ravelry has been around. Not that I can use that as an excuse - I haven't even posted any projects/pictures/whatever in oh-so-long there either. I keep taking pictures... I should upload those to my Flickr and to Rav. Why haven't I done it before now? Partially because it was part of my first forays into the blogging and knitting communities. I used to be so faithful about blogging there. It's kind of sad to let it go, you know? I'm still thinking about it - I'd like to be able to archive my old posts somewhere before I do it. Any ideas, suggestions?

I'm also thinking about moving this blog somewhere - and getting a new name for it. Suggestions are welcome. Typepad has been pissing me off these past few weeks with their changes and inability to keep anything I've saved before - with the exception of a post that has been completed and posted. *rolling eyes* Part of me thinks that I should just go with Wordpress or with Blogger. I have experience with Blogger for the shop blog - but I'm thinking about moving that to Wordpress, as Wordpress has a shopping cart feature, which will prove useful when I'm posting about classes. What I need is an affordable option (which is not Typepad), that's idiot-proof (as I am an idiot), that will be easy to blog to from my Blackberry and is customizable. (I may need to get someone to come up with some graphics or something for me... definitely for the shop blog, but maybe for me. Who's got the graphics skillz out there?)

Then there's the thought of where I want to take this blog. When I first started this blog I did it because I needed a place to vent that was completely seperate from my knitting blog. Too many people knew who I was from the knitting blog and that would have made bitching about work and my boss rather hard. (This was back before she left the country to follow an absolute fuckwit to England and just leave her shop, her problems in my hands and the hands of her supposed best friend. No, I have no opinions about that whatsoever. I don't feel as if we've both been shit on time and again. No, not at all.) Then once she was gone, I started focusing on my dating life - well, that went by the wayside too, since I all but ignored my blog when I was dating someone. Now that I'm dealing with the various dating issues again, I wonder if anyone is even interested in hearing the stories. I'll keep writing them, simply to get them all down on "paper" and because y'all have had some great things to say. (Plus, judging from the reaction of some of the stories at Late Night, people might want to hear? LOL.) A blog is a narcissistic thing, a call to be the center of attention, if only for a few minutes. I've never considered myself much of a narcissist, but I suppose there's a little bit of one in all of us.

Okay, lightening the mood considerably with pictures from the D & H trip to Whitetail after the jump... or I would if Typepad would upload a stupid photo or two. *sigh* Just go to my Flickr page and look there. I've also got the Australia pics up there (and in sets, no less!) too. And, just to pat myself on the back, one of the Sydney pics got picked to go in some online travel guide about the Sydney area. Yay, me!

Is it just me?

Or does everyone on the road today seem super-idiotic? Just sayin'. I ran a few errands this morning before going into the shop to pay a few bills and all I came across were unobservant, idiotic drivers. *sigh*

Maybe people will actually know how to drive on the way in in the morning. Maybe.

Guys make me confuzzled.

Would someone enlighten me as to why a guy I hooked up with last summer at a camping trip - who I've been communicating with via email and PMs on a social networking site - chooses to tell me he has a girlfriend and is travelling with her in a week or so, but decides that he needs to talk to me about the most mundane things? Yesterday, we were emailing back and forth about his forthcoming trip and his trip to NYC last weekend (I was teasing him that he really knows how to live it up for his birthday, since he was attending some evening safety workshop for work.) and he throws the "girl I'm dating" tidbit in. I see that and basically decide to back off the emailing for a bit - because in the emails, he had shown interest and I wasn't comfortable with that if there's a girl in the picture. I don't play that game, it's just not good karma.

This morning, I wake up to an email from him apologizing for not calling me last night as he was painting his hall and wearing a respirator... I didn't know he was going to call. So, no harm, no foul. Then he calls me tonight on his way home from dinner with his parents and starts talking about trips he's planning on taking, the camping trips I'll be going on this year, the beautiful woodcuts he got in Japan, our mutual love of the Lonely Planet guides (and my love of the phrasebooks, based on the French one) and all sorts of other mundane crap before he gets home. 

WTF? Can someone please explain?