Wednesday, August 27, 2008

call me, call me any anytime

My family is loopy when it comes to phones. In the past we had a problem with eavesdropping. One night I answered the phone and it was a friend of my dad's. I called for him to pick up, but instead of hanging up, I kept listening. A few minutes later, my dad's phone disconnected and I could hear his friend saying, "Vern? Are you there? Vern?" I didn't know what to do. The poor guy couldn't figure it out because it hadn't disconnected but my dad wasn't answering. Later I found out that I wasn't the only one listening in. Both my mother and my sister Annie were upstairs on this pink and turquoise phone that had two handsets. Three people eavesdropping on the same phone call-wrong, wrong, wrong.

These days we have another issue. When I call my parents' voicemail I hear Anne's voice who hasn't lived there for over ten years. But when I call Anne's house, I get that stilted computer voice. I hear my brother Matthew's voice inviting me to, "leave a message for Phyllis," when I call my mom's cell phone. It used to be Matthew pretending to be my mother, so I guess we're making progress.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

oh what is it about you that makes me so jolly? is it your fifty cotton or your fifty poly?

In a few minutes I am going to say goodbye to something that's been with me for over fifteen years. A moment of silence please for my Stussy hoodie. I've had it through five moves (okay, they were all around Irvine, but still) and it has seen better days. This became painfully clear to me the day I was wearing it in a store and a girl walked by and said, "Vintage Stussy. Cool." It reminded me of that episode of I Love Lucy when Ricky wouldn't get rid of his old tattered sweater. I didn't know I could get kind of attached to an item of clothing. Throwing it out sounds kind of drastic. Maybe I'll just vow not to wear it in public.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

if i could turn back time, if i could find a way...

...I would take back the night I googled "Orange County reception sites," then signed up for a service that would find me the perfect site for my wedding. The problem is that I'm not getting married (yet-cross your fingers). Here's what happened. I was with some friends for dinner and games one night. By the end of the night, there were four of us left and a couple of us decided we would plan another friend's wedding. One friend picked a date, and I announced that I'd take care of finding the reception site. So, late that night, I went home and googled Orange County reception sites, then followed a link and signed up for a service. Yes, I gave my email address. I know, I know!! Bad idea! It was late! I was caught up in the excitement! Can anyone say living vicariously?! For months now I've gotten emails with photos and menu ideas for my nonexistent wedding. Ouch.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

sunshine day, everybody seems so happy today

"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow." Helen Keller said that. (Could she see shadows? I digress.) I'm feeling much better today. Hope springs eternal and all that. My existential angst is over for now. It's such a waste of time to worry. I'm working on it.

tossing and turning all night

It's after 4:00 in the morning and I haven't gone to sleep. I've tried and tried. It's been like this the last several nights and the entire next day I feel like I have narcolepsy. Not good. I am usually a good sleeper, but lately I have been thinking too much. Obsessing might be more accurate. Fixating would work. I won't go into what's been keeping me up as I like to keep things a little more on the light hearted side here, a little more 'foxy' if you will. It's definitely nothing that worrying will help. It will all be okay. That's what my mom tells me and I believe her! Or try to. Here's a quote from Mahatma Gandi that I like. “There is nothing that wastes the body like worry, and one who has any faith in God should be ashamed to worry about anything whatsoever." I am guilty, but I'm not going to worry about it.

from the moment i wake up, before i put on my makeup

Let's go back to a more innocent time, when makeup colors either used numbers or had sweet names like Cherries in the Snow. In recent years things have gotten more sassy. I've had an eyeshadow named Kitten and a lip gloss called Prrr. That's kind of cute. Things should have stopped there. A couple of months ago I made a pilgrimage to Sephora, beauty Mecca. A very enthusiastic young salesman started brushing and patting things on my face. Pretty soon a few other customers were coming over to watch. He put on quite the entertaining floor show. As he was applying blush, he told another woman the same color would look good on her, too. I asked the name of it and he said, "Score. And that's what's going to happen when you wear it." (Still waiting.) I bought the blush and several other items. The eye shadows are named Sin and Roach (yes, that's right). And the name of the mascara just taunts me. I've seen products with names too naughty to mention. Maybe I'm missing the days when all it took was a flavored Bonne Bell Lip Smacker.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

isn't it ironic, don't you think?

Remember my big plans to match make? Well, both the guys mentioned doing something with me instead. I wouldn't say they were asking me for a date. For one thing I find that sometimes it's impossible to tell if I am on a date or if we are just hanging out. I would guess that one is just hanging out and the other might be more of a date. Pretty funny, no?

it's just another day for you and me in paradise

I live about 20 minutes from this paradise. So beautiful. My friend Gayla and her friend are in town from Las Vegas and they invited me to join them for lunch at Las Brisas which is right on the coast in Laguna Beach. I hadn't been to the restaurant in years, but I had been to the beach there a few times recently (but that's another story involving a personal trainer and a bright orange french cut speedo). We sat outside on the patio eating chips and guacamole while enjoying the view. It doesn't get better than that.