Lateshoes

Ugh – this blog is ugly and I’ve been too busy to snaz it up or to write in it for that matter.

I spent the day rearranging and cleaning my horrible house, readying it for some of my favorite women in the world. Tomorrow my momma, sister, granny and 3 cousins come to visit and I couldn’t be more over-the-moon about it.

First of all, this means I’m on vacation – something I’ve desperately needed….and secondly, that I’ll be surrounded by wonderful women that crack me up and that I love desperately.

We have several activities planned and I’ll do my best to post pictures and tell you all the haps. I’m recommitting. Did you catch that?

Once my family leaves, I’ll have 5 whole days of laziness before jetting back to Chicago for a week.

I want to be upset about it. Honestly, I’ve traveled more since January than in the past 10 years. It’s crazy. But, anyway – I’m not upset, mostly because I am without an ounce of hesitation – IN LOVE with Chicago.

I’ve never really loved a city like this before. I liked Seattle, Portland, San Francisco – sure – but, I want to make sweet love to Chicago – on the first date.

So – I’m excited. We’re staying downtown this time and while this means an hour commute in the mornings – I think it will be a much better experience and much less exhausting. We’re staying at this insanely pretty and old Hilton on Michigan Ave. It’s by the Field museum and the aquarium. Sigh.

Chicago Breakdown – Louis Armstrong (recorded in 1927)
1927:

Now:

It’s been a busy couple of months and frankly I’m exhausted. Nevertheless, on Saturday I will be traveling to the Lone Star state for work. Robbed of another weekend – and I’m trying not to take it personally.
The good news is that in a few weeks my brother and cousin (and her baby) will be here and I’m so excited to see them. I’ve been trying to woo my brother to SLC for ages. I’ve lived apart from my family for so long, I selfishly want to steal at least one of them away – even just for a while.

The bad news is that I haven’t finished the great middle and back room re-design before their visit. I had every intention of getting the floors and painting done before, but at this rate I’ll be lucky to get them clean.

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh…. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand….. breathe.

Not that I’m stressed out or anything…nope. Not me. Not at all.

Waltz Across Texas Tonight | Emmylou Harris

Blues in Dallas | Mountain Goats

Texas Eagle | Steve Earle

I’ve fucking started this post about 9 times, but for whatever reason, say, oh! being awake for 20 hours and being high as balls on caffeine – I keep fucking the thing up. I’ve tried to add a current (as in up the minute) photo of myself, sitting in the San Diego airport waiting for security to open at 4am, but, I keep deleting it and out of frustration , deleting and and backing up so far that I lose the post entirely. I’m determined to not douche this one up. Here goes. 

*Sidebar– there’s currently an older woman walking around with a baby-blue-neck-pillow around her neck, dragging her overnight bag all over the place. The airport confuses me. 

So, our Comic-Con adventure is coming to an end and I have so much to share with you – of course I might need to sleep first because as you can probably imagine, it’s a long – long story. For now, please do enjoy my photos on Flickr and look forward to hearing about:

-the losing of my badge

-the endless, walking/ sweating/ waiting (sounds bad, which is was, but it wasn’t. Sorry, that was some Tom Cruise-like circular bullshit I just spewed at you, but it will make sense later, I swear). 

-the fucking LINES. Holy Jabbering shit! The lines.

-the costumes

-the panels (that we could actually freaking get into to. Did I mention the lines?)

-the balls-up security detail

-the food

-the bacon-greasiness of me

-soft water and how San Diego gave me pretty, soft hair…

-and swollen, puffy cankle feet

-new friends

-yummy food eaten

-cute pets of new friends

-the finer points of “line etiquette” 

-fucking “Torgo” and his hairy-backed brother – who are forever my enemies

-Plan 9/ Rifftrax

-Lestat’s 

-awesome James and awesome Brooke

-and finally, how in the end I never met John Barrowman or sat on David Boreanez’ lap, but it was still a fanfuckingtastic time anyway. 

Amen.

I’m sitting in the MultiMedia Center, typing on a foreign computer to pass the time while waiting for yet ANOTHER meeting. I absolutely love my job and have never been happier to do something for 8 hours a day, but would someone let me do it?! Ugh. It’s my own fault – I agreed to be on these committees – because that’s what people who want to get ahead do – and I know I wouldn’t even have the sweet job I do now – without being a committee-bitch – but, STILL.

I’m tired. I’m sick and I’m cranky and I’d rather have trolls nibble on my girl balls then go to another meeting right now.

This weekend was such a bust. All of our good intentions to FINALLY sand the floors went out the window Friday night when the sniffles, headaches and body aches began. I’ve made all sorts of commitments in my head to get tiny parts of the project done during the week – I could easily start filling in the holes, repairing the messed up planks etc… but, will I?

What it all boils down to is this: I have to finish this bloody project – my brain needs a place of peace and beauty to detox. I’m so tired of the constant loop of plan, avoid, guilt, plan, avoid, guilt. So. very. tired. I want time and brain space to be creative again. I want to write things, make things, sing things – but all of that energy is bogged down in this one place and I’ve got no one to blame but myself.

Of course all of this could just be the Theraflu talking. Shut up, Theraflu!