Maybe...
...June will be better.
In fact, I know it will. First of all, the theme for June is "fan," and I got all kinds of commentary for that. The South is hotter than a mofo right now, so there's that kind of fan, and the other kind of fan...well, that'll fill up a book, hours of therapy and several blog posts, I'm sure.
I am finding this topic quite ironic because on the way to work this morning, I was thinking about some of the lunatic fans I've encountered and all their plusses and minusues. The minuses made me want to be antisocial and cave up from the outside world (that and being completely and totally overextended with everyone else's nonsense), but if i had all that free time, I could work on one of the plusses, which is to work on my book. So, that'd be a plus. Assuming I can actually write fiction...because, as you know, this has so far been a strictly nonfiction operation. (Also probably why people piss me off.)
I will save most of the merriment for tomorow, but there will be more writing here. I'm still not going to write for the sake of writing, but I need to get some of the shit that's in my brain out. I'm hoping that doesn't piss you off.
But, then again, not really sure I care. This is still MY blog.
So close, yet so far away...
Yesterday, I stumbled upon a sandwich marathon of sorts (I think they called it "Best Buns") on the Travel Channel. Besides learning where to get burgers in Reno and Lobster rolls in Maine, they addressed a topic near and dear to my heart:
Who has a better coney dog: Lafayette or American Coney Island in Detroit?
I won't bore you with the whole story of these rival businesses owned by brothers, next door to each other for 70+ years. And I can't even tell you personally which one is best, because I lived in the suburbs and went to National, Leo's, Kerby's or the coney island right across the street from my house (we could've walked, had we not been fat, lazy Detroiters trying to score hot dogs), Westside Coney Island. As Ron said today, in Detroit there's a coney island on every corner, and people go 4-5 times a week.
Yeah, those were the good old days. How I weighed 70 pounds less and went to coneys once a week will always be one of life's mysteries. I think it helped that Vic Tanny (Bally's whatever) was also on the way home and I ate a lot of Greek salads.
I always miss Detroit coneys, and they're just not something that you can make on your own (mostly because the recipe for the sauce contains some questionable ingredients). I mostly blame the intro to the TV show "Hung," which starts out in front of American and Lafayette and ends up at Hung's house, which I believe is West Bloomfield. (Quarton Lake, maybe?) This Travel Channel show yesterday didn't help much.
Luckily, there is an option for displaced Detroiters here in the Music City. A few months ago, I had driven by a tiny hole-in-the-wall establishment attached to a gas station called Jim's Coney Island. It looked a little sketch, but I was at Def Con 4 on the coney situation after watching Carmen Harlan scarf them down on national TV.
I read the reviews for Jim's and people said it was pretty authentic. They also said he had Faygo pop (that's soda, for those of you not blessed enough to be Midwestern), so right there I knew it would be good.
And it was. Aside from the fact that the bar stools were built for NBA players and not my short ass, everything was perfect. I had a coney with onions and mustard (the only way one eats a coney), chili cheese fries (which were good, but a little salty) and a Faygo Rock & Rye. I took a picture with my phone and sent it to my brother who thought I had somehow ended up in Detroit. No, but it was a close as I'd get at 11 a.m. on a Monday.
The food was good, and it's nice to know I have a place to score some Faygo and salt and vinegar Better Made chips with my coney dog. Cincinnati coneys are good for what they are, but Detroit coneys are a whole different beast.
Of course, I shouldn't be eating any of it because I'm on a diet. But homesickness does not know anything about calories. And it's neat to have someone to talk about the Red Wings and Ram's Horn and all things Detroit with.
Older
So, yesterday was my birthday. I turned 35. Surprisingly, it was just like any other day, really. Except with cake.
Yesterday was busy. I had the Vision Walk in the morning. It was nice and a great success. Of course, I am really out of shape, but that's going to change very soon.
Starting this week, I am trying a 70 day plan. Losing weight would be nice, but I'll be fine regardless. I just want to be more fit. I don't like things being so jiggly. I'd love it if my clothes fit a little better.
I don't care how much I weigh really. I love myself. I don't worry about other people's judgments of me. It's taken me a really long time to realize that, but that's OK. But I'd like to live to see the other half of 70, and statistics show that people who exercise more than 20 minutes a day are healthier. So, it's time to stop being lazy. Although it's usually less lazy and more busy that keeps me from working out.
Although today, 110% lazy. I do have dinner in the oven, though. That's progress. Just don't ask if I am still wearing my pajamas at 6 p.m.
I'm headed to the shower as soon as I get done writing this. I thought you might all miss me.
I painted another painting last night. It's my brother's birthday present. It was the hardest one I've done, and it doesn't look great, so I hope he doesn't hate it.
I wish I could get motivated to go back to church. With Easter and the wedding, I was doing better, but now I am a little distressed by this report on the church's abuse history. It's never bothered me before, but blaming it on the 1960s? Really?
Because we all know from our lives that if you don't take responsibility for your actions, you can't improve your situation.
And when it comes to sexual abuse by priests, I can't even bear the thought of that.
I need to call work and find out my schedule for the week. I need to vacuum my house.
I need a nap.
Maybe this is what 35 feels like?
Catching up
A million moons ago, Brad Paisley sang a song that went a little something like this:
"It's all because two people fell in love..."
That was the theme to last weekend.
I went back to Ohio for my baby brother's (he's 30, but he's still the youngest) wedding. It was a great weekend, but I am still worn out, three days later.
We all stayed at Burr Oak State Park, where we also had the reception. Everything was nice. The dining room overlooking the lake, our cabin overlooking the lake, catching up with family and friends. The weekend was a roaring success.
I think my brother and my new sister-in-law will be happy. They seem happy, so that's a good thing. And I got to see my other brother and sister-in-law and my precious little nephew, who can now say my name. Although he mostly just bosses me around.
Of course, after two whirlwind trips to Ohio, I won't get back for a while. First of all, I am officially out of vacation time at work. Second of all, it costs more than $50 to fill my gas tank right now, and the trip requires three fill-ups. So, I'll be staying close to home for at least a few months.
My birthday is coming up, and I wish I could be excited about turning 35. But I'm old, hormonal, and falling apart, and I really just want it to be another day. I've been so busy with the wedding that everything else has gone to the wayside, especially my Vision Walk fundraising. Maybe I can pull together some last-minute donations, so I'm not completely embarrassed. But it won't be today. I'm working until 10 tonight. That should be fun after a week and a half of no babyland.
After about 30,000 people this weekend asked me when I was getting married, it made me think about it. I told them, politely, that I wouldn't hold my breath, and that's pretty much where I stand. My track record has not been so great. Actually, my track looks a little more like a minefield. It's amazing that I have all my body parts.
Regardless of whether or not I have any desire to put up with men's nonsense, I do need to lose weight. Maybe not as much lose weight as take advantage of the good health benefits one gets from daily exercise. I need to get back to the gym and get back in a routine. It's hard working two jobs, but if I don't make time to take care of my body, it's going to stop working as hard as I ask it too. You have to put something in to get something back. And it's not about looking good or finding a spouse, it's just about making it one more day...
Maybe...
...someone will give a shit about this mish-mash of a blog post.
May's theme is "Maybe." I guess the idea is to focus on how to turn your maybes into realities. Of course, maybe you didn't notice that it is already the second day of the month, yet I've only written one post for May. Maybe I can just start fresh today.
And, not to set myself up for failure, but I'm leaving on Thursday and I'll be gone for five days so my brother can get hitched. So, yeah, I guess I am setting myself up for failure.
I'm finally getting a second to breathe at work, which is part of why you are getting a blog post. It's hard to believe someone who used to eat, live and breathe a whole separate life on the computer barely turns the damn thing on these days. But, guess what? I'm reading books. Real ones. And they're good.
And I drink coffee and discuss them with strangers, which is fun.
Yesterday after church (a place I had not been in some time), I went out to Chris' and he changed my oil while I played playground, ice cream shop and tea party with Shelby. Sometimes when he smiles, I just wish we could go back where we were. The other night, we were talking and I told him that he's a good person and a good friend and sometimes he knows me better than myself, and he said the same for me. I concluded that we're still a good team; we're just playing a different game now.
I thought I'd be married by 35. Well, really, I thought I'd be married at 30, but I gave myself an extension. Now, with just 19 days to 35, I'm realizing that being single is OK. I don't have any desire to be married, and I've made my peace with the fact that I probably won't get to be a parent, although I haven't closed the door on the possibility of foster kids once I get a little more financially stable.
But, in some ways, I like being on my own. And right now I have roommates, but it'd be OK if I didn't. I even keep going back and forth about getting another cat.
I feel slightly compelled to write something about Osama Bin Laden being taken down by the Navy Seals, but I'm not nearly as optimistic as some, and I'm definitely not jubilant. Killing is bad, and we need less of it in this world. I still feel like there will be retaliation, and it surely didn't make our president more palatable to those who hate him. I just want to say, I may think George W. Bush is a moron and I may hate the way Republicans have divided this nation, but I don't hate any of them. In fact, I pray for them daily. But, this does not often seem like a courtesy that extends both ways.
I miss intelligent discourse. I miss the gentility of politics back in the day. Most days, politics and government in this country and the discourse (if you want to call it that) surrounding it make me a little nauseous. So, what should be an occasion for our country to band together and have national pride has just been a way for the haters to blame even more shit on the black guy.
It's been a year since Nashville's floods. For most people, things are back to normal. For many, things will probably never be "normal" again. I'm just glad the weather's been kind to us lately and pray for those to whom it has not.
