Here I am

This is the cover of my book. My book. Silly. My book comes out in a month or so. People, if they desire, can read my poems. In a book. Weird. Okay, I don't want to talk about it. Okay, I'll talk about it. On one hand, I want everyone in the whole world to read my book. And then, I don't want anyone to read it. The "not wanting anyone to read it" is temporary. It's a strange feeling of "now everyone will know who I really am." Aaccckkkk! Oh well, at the same time, I relish that thought. I think, in my early years, :), I was different people with different people. What I've aspired to, in the last ten years, is to be JUST MYSELF with everyone. Authentic living, so to speak. Everybody basically gets the same me. No more being one way with some people and another way with other people. Geez, I hate it when I talk about me. (I have realized, however, that in a blog, that's just what happens...I talk about me occasionally)

Moving on. I went to Vegas last weekend. I LOVE Vegas. Sit me at a Roulette table for 6 hours with fifty bucks and I'm a happy gal. It's a very weird, glitzy, surreal place and I love it. Took my boy, and we met Suzy and her two girls. Three kids, two moms, swimming, nice digs (thank you brother John), and a nanny on Saturday night. We took the kids to see Stomp and made breakfast burritos in the morning to be frugal. Great vacation. And I was happy to get home.

My mom is wonderful. She gets coke floats everyday. She does not have to eat her spinach if she makes a face after one bite. She has these "mom" mannerisms that have resurfaced after the cease in meds. That seroquel has its place but can sure flatten a person out. She still inspires me every day to be alive. She smiles and gives these little laughs. Here's a funny story about her. She came into my bedroom once when I was about eleven. She was not a kidding/jokester type mom. She stood in my doorway and said, "You know those round toothpaste drops that you always leave in the sink? I was reading in Reader's Digest that you can pop them off the porcelain and use them as mints." I just sat there, quite unsure how to react. Really?!, I thought. She just smiled and walked back down the hall, and I thought, "wow, she's kidding. My mom made a joke." I had a totally new and impressive view of my mom after that day.

And finally, on the creativity front; my chair is going well, the drawer is shaping up nicely, I'm writing a poem here and there, and the hats are being knitted. I do have to say, however, that the bottles being painted to bottle the ESB beer that we're brewing came out horrid. (Pictures of all of this will appear shortly). I've only done three so far but they look absolutely stupid. I was looking at them today and thinking -- wow, yuck, bad job. So, I'll just have to start over on THAT project. But I did get a perverse thrill out of knowing that sometimes creativity is just f**ked up.

Funny quote of the day....
"When I die, I want to die like my grandfather--who died peacefully in
his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car."
--Author Unknown