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2:39 p.m. - 2011-07-01
On the threshold of summer.

"And let them brush your rock-n-roll hair."

It's been how many days? Really?

So there ya go. For those wondering, it's obvious I can shut up. At least under the right conditions. Which this week meant a string of bad sleep/short sleep/no sleep nights and the crappy attitude that goes with them. Why inflict that on you good people? It's not like anything was really wrong, just lack-of-sleep grumpies.

Didn't sleep well last night either, but in discussing my wakefulness with Mick he hit on a possible cause. Too much light. The room is simply too bright, too early. Duh. Longest days of the year right now. So today after the gym MIL and I went to the Evil Super Store and I picked up a heavy-duty room darkening window shade. I'll install it later. I think it'll help and it certainly can't hurt. (Unless I have difficulty cutting the shade to fit and getting it installed properly, then I'll be Ms Pissy Pants over my ineptitude.) Hopefully tonight-tomorrow I'll sleep like the dead in my newly dim little cave and not wake up until noon. It'd be nice.

Unfortunately as I predicted, Jer the lawn boy flaked out. Nice kid, but from day one I had my suspicions his fling with being a landscaper wouldn't last long into the summer's heat. Help is on the way though. The young man Jer had sent over to clean out the arborvitae fence was happy to hear from Mick and glad enough to come over and mow the yard using our equipment. To heck with Jer and his professional-grade mower, he never cut the grass close enough to suit anyhow. The new kid should be here soon. His name is extremely uncommon yet instantly recognizable as it is also the name of a mega movie star, so to protect his privacy I shall henceforth refer to him as 'the yard kid'. There's like maybe five people running around with this name and I'm sure none of them would appreciate showing up in this paltry little journal. "Dude! I was just on the internet farting around and you popped up in same lame-o chick's blog! You're an Oscar winning actor and director! Why the hell are you mowing LA's lawn?"

Silly. Silly. Definitely need some silly to blow apart this sleep deprived black mood.

Didn't mention it at the time, but I'm relieved my home state finally got on board with marriage equality. Any state that styles itself as THE hippest and least up in your business place in the country had no case for denying civil rights to anyone because some fearful stone aged dopes with bibles think their personal religious beliefs (and prejudices) somehow trump the Constitution. So go New York! I feel much better with that bit of hateful hypocrisy off the books. Any friends, gay or straight, who want to come here and get married I'd be glad to throw you a hella good party afterward. I might not have had a wedding for my own self, but I'd still love to have the chance to make a zillion canapés and rent a champagne fountain. I won't go into how small this place is, I've been thoroughly bitch slapped by visiting friends whose living spaces are even smaller and think my house is on the biggish side, but I'm guessing we could squeeze about 40 people in here, provided nobody minds standing.

I was startled this morning to discover the weight loss I'd attributed to laying off the salt and cheap vodka and dumping some bloat seems to be real fat that has gone away. I always weigh myself at the gym in all my clothes with my Pumas on after I work out so as to get the scariest number possible. And for the last few weeks that scary number has been going down. Not by a lot, but nonetheless it's nice.

Also managed to stop gnawing my fingernails again. They're just a little shy of fingertip length and I have them painted a garish fuchsia. The polish is both for the strengthening and to remind me to keep my fingers out of my mouth. The crazy color is enough to catch my eye as my hands automatically drift upward and I stop myself before I start nibbling.

Losing weight? Nice nails? Huh? Is it possible I might be slowly coming out of the funk from turning into some horribly aged hag version of my former self? Given over my "Who cares?" attitude and decided to rejoin the living again? Maybe. Time will tell. I still don't recognize my face in its new configuration. Jowls! Nobody makes contingency plans for jowls. The bod, however, I gave up on some time ago. Realized I was being a dope after Mick chided me for only wanting to do the wild thing with the lights off. If my husband still wants my nekkid self (even in broad daylight) then I should be cool, right? What else matters? Nothing. The gym is strictly for gossiping with MIL and maintaining bone density. My Chanel grandmother died of complications arising from osteoporosis, the least I can do is some load-bearing exercise while I still have a modicum of estrogen left. Yes?

While I was at the Evil Super Store I also picked up a new garden hose. The old one leaks in five different places and the faucet coupler's threads are stripped. After Mick worked so hard cleaning out the nefarious and sneaky blackberry canes from my veggie patch I've felt obligated to plant something but the plethora of farmer's markets makes growing my own veggies sort of stupid. I've run through my infatuation with growing my own food. And refuse to feel guilty about this. By buying from the local farmers I'm supporting their businesses. Win-win. No grubbing around in the dirt all summer for me and someone else's livelihood is just that much heftier. To solve my conundrum about using my newly cleaned up planting bed I've seeded it with wild flowers. Once the wee plants are set I won't even have to water unless it doesn't rain for over a week. Right now before they're established I have to water every morning. Hence the new garden hose. I got tired of getting a shower before I took one in the bathroom.

Life is kind of in a nadir right now as we wait for things to begin. Wolf starts work-study on Tuesday. Mick doesn't pick up with summer school until the following Monday. Other stuff is wending its way through proper channels and only patience is required. We're past the June birthdays and the spring holidays, nothing on the docket until MIL's birthday on the 31st. America's birthday this weekend, of course. No biggie there. Swimming at the folks' place is about it. Mick thinks fireworks are pointless and stupid. Wolf and I usually catch the show put on by the local newspaper at the county park over the hill. If we stand about midway up the slope we can see the fireworks over the trees right in our own backyard. Our proximity to the park also makes it a little noisy during the many, many Civil War re-enactments held there. But what's some canon fire amongst neighbors, eh?

Let's raise a toast to the USA on its birthday…and the hope of a good night's sleep tonight. ~LA

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