Did you know Lowe's dates their paint labels? Proof I've procrastinated this project since July 10th. I'm ashamed to show the "before" photo. At one time it was white and had those builder brassish fittings. Poor door.
Yesterday, I scrubbed the door down and used one of those magic erasers for the scuffs. It worked well, magic. Finally a household product that lives up to the hype. Go Mr. Clean! Had I not been sick {sick I tell you} of the generic color and those pitiful excuses for hardware, a heavy duty cleaning might have done it. Two coats of "Grandma's Linen" and some spray paint to disguise substandard hardware...a door makeover on the cheap. Pretty door. ;0)
I awoke this morning before 8 am; atypical of my weekend sleeping habits. All the more surprising since bedtime was around 2 am. So, after bribing two cats to cease the meows with Iams, I got out for errands. Mid way through Wal-Mart, I made the executive decision chips & salsa sounded like a well deserved treat. I don't deserve anything seeing as how I'm so horribly behind on everything. Regardless, I indulged on taco salad and mindless chick lit in the form of Plum Sykes' novel Bergdorf Blondes.
Yes, I'm the loco chica reading, blogging, and chowing down on some yummy Mexican by myself in the corner booth. I've got to add this to my "cheaper than therapy" list. Gracias.
Pictured above is my first test grade after umpteen+ years since graduating high school. My first term paper was turned in last week. After class tonight, I asked my professor how the grading was coming. It felt like that episode of Gilmore Girls where Rory ends up hearing she should drop a class. He said he hadn't finished reading it yet. Not the answer I wanted. He pulled my paper out of a leather case and said there were some formatting issues but it was very interesting reading which was a refreshing change from the usual papers he gets. He went on to say it was the most imaginative paper he remembers reading. :0) He only had a page or so left to read. I'm getting the chance to tweak the formatting issues and turn it in again Wednesday night. That would be the very same night as my mid-term exam. I know I'm an overachiever, among other things. It's only one class but I want an "A" so badly. Mainly to prove to myself that I am indeed good enough. Isn't that what we all crave anyway? To be good enough. A letter on a transcript won't prove anything really but at least it would make the added stress I've been under since August seem worth it. And give me more leverage for the high standards I have concerning dear Son's grades.
A gift I made on the quick for a dear friend's 40th blowout. Had a party not been involved, she would've been added to the ever growing list I owe birthday gifts.
There are a ridiculous amount of unfinished projects all over my house. It's like a craft war zone. And my cheap iron finally died so dear Hubby & I went to Target this weekend to pick out a new cheapo iron. We're both still in mourning over the old one. For real; the old one far exceeded our expectations of the twenty buck investment. That was so long ago you could buy a household appliance at Wal-Mart and expect it to last longer than a year. We couldn't even remember what year we bought it. Man that was a good iron. Anyhow, I should be able to get over the loss because my new iron is PINK! Oh yeah they make pink irons! It's the little things that make me happy. ;0)
Remember that commercial from the 80’s with the egg in
the frying pan? You know the “this is your brain on drugs” one? Well, Wyeth
should have paid for it.
My Rheumatologist said this summer I needed to swap off
the Cymbalta. Week one was halving my dosage, week two was taking the lower
dose every other day, and week three I started the new. Week two coincided with
the start of the 2009/2010 school year. Can you say bad timing? Now we’re a
month into school and a month into the new Rx. The major side effects I’m
experiencing are not listed anywhere in the super fine print on the massive foldaway insert. Side effect number one is anger. I’ve been upset at
people or situations before, but seemed to always go straight to the disappointment
emotion. Patience was a natural state. Now, I get pissed off and quickly. Side
effect number two is the inability to keep my mouth shut. Imagine what a
wonderful combination that is with side effect number one. My mouth has come
unhinged. When irritated, I’ve said some of the harshest and insensitive things
lately to people I love and respect. The words vomit out of my mouth. I need
the filter switch turned back on in my brain so certain thoughts never become
audible.
They say it takes a while to get your system “used to” a
new medication. So for now I’m burdened with the brain-mouth disconnect. Geez I
hope this isn’t a permanent state. I feel so unlike myself. Please, please,
please forgive me if I’ve snapped or spat out a poorly worded comment to you
lately. “Prescriptions” and “medications” are drugs you know. Just because
they’re legal doesn’t make them any less of a drug.
I'm trying hard to make some real changes in my life. More frequent posts is one of the easier items on the list.
School has started back. Busy. Busy. Our football season gets underway this week. You can find me on bleachers somewhere in rural Alabama every Friday night till November. I start classes next week. {Seriously overdue.} I've vowed to volunteer less so I can manage being a student myself again. Please remind me of this. The first meltdown, complete with tears and a snotty nose will occur before the end of September I predict. Time management has never been my strong suit. Ask any family member. My creative processes are adversarial to the notion of time, just as my craft supplies are to space.
Oh, I finally broke in my new Bernina ruffler foot. It's amazing! I made a tea towel using measurements from a handmade one. I'm not happy with it. That's why you're looking at my mug instead of a tea towel adorned with ruffles. I've got to work out the dimensions before I cut into my prized April Cornell fabric. Well it's so late now, if I calculate the amount of time between lights out and alarm time the product is oh crap so I better go. Hope y'all have a good week.
Pretty please send me an iPhone 3GS. I would be most grateful and promise to say "There's an app for that" to someone everyday.
My stupid Nextel phone hates me. It knows I'm plotting against it. Perhaps it was watching when I posted on Facebook a list of reasons I need want your practically perfect product. Yesterday, after my Nextel won the game of how many times will she take out and reinsert the SIM card before swearing, the screen flashed blue and turned itself off. Clearly, this was an act of self preservation. I'm warming to dear Son's idea of taking our Nextels to the shooting range.
Sprint/Nextel has me in a binding contract until the end of October. I want to divorce them. Please help me.
Kindest regards,
Amy
P.S. Black would be lovely, but whatever you can spare would be most appreciated.
I've been feeling crappy for a over a week. I get really snippy and go on in complete denial that bed bound sickness is imminent, in the beginning. It is imminent. I act like everything is fine. I hate that word by the way. Male readers, when a woman female says fine, it means not fine. Trust me. So, I say I'm just tired. I'm always tired. Then after a sleepless night/day/night of tossing/turning and having my mind run faster than our old hp computer's RAM, I'm "officially" sick. This is my issue...I'm always sick. Sometimes it's just worse. This is the sucky nature of chronic disease Ala Lupus.
I was especially crappy the other night and had my laptop out looking at my Flickr favorites. Dear Hubby came home from work to find me curled up in the bed with the cats in the dark watching a slide show; crying. Oh yeah. Doesn't every man dream of coming home to this after a long day at work. Lucky him. The cats bailed since their shift was over and relief had finally come. He was like, "What are you doing?" I was like, "Trying..." sniffle, sob, "to cheer myself up." He was like "Why?" What the h*ll kinda question is that? Male readers, if you ever are attempting to comfort a crying woman female, never ask why. That's a stupid question. Your job is to comfort, not ascertain the why of the situation. Little tip there for ya.
At some point that I feel up to it and the mood strikes, I'll share some geeky information about Flickr and how incredibly fabulous it is. And how non Creative Commons people are making my life difficult. Open source people, open source. I still ♥ Flickr anyway. For now, here's what I was in the dark watching....
I'm stuck in a state of indecision about the direction of the Artsy Amy blog and need help from all my artsy readers out there. Look in the top left column for the polling widget and cast your vote by June 30th. Please vote!
