I'm sitting here watching a really funny spider movie with David Arquette and a young Scarlett Johannson -- a stand out even then. It's got big hairy spiders and a cute Boston Terrier so it can't be all that bad, wait scratch that, it had a Boston Terrier -- a giant spider just ate it. It's called Eight Legged Freaks. It's the perfect background movie for working on the computer -- not too many important plot points to miss -- just comedy and spiders.
I haven't been able to keep up much (but frankly, when am I ever able to keep up with Live Journal, I try but it is forever running ahead of and eluding me), because I herniated a disc in my spine when I was helping Scott clean out his Dad's townhouse, weee, and the most I can do is sit up for short periods of time with a heating pad on my back. I drove around and did a few small errands yesterday but it was too much for me so as much as I want to get out there, or stay here, and do, do, do, I'm going to have to force my Aries nature to sit on my busy fluttering hands and rest.
Oh and in another little bit of bizarre synchronistic Osbourne weirdness I wound up going to their chiropractor, same way as I wound up at their dentist -- total flukeish providence. My chiropractor was booked solid all day with back to back emergencies and clients, so I called my massage therapy center, who in turn referred me to their chiropractor who was booked, but the director of his clinic agreed to stay late to help us out, and it turns out that his brother-in-law is Ozzy's producer, small world, I guess. I think I should just call them and ask for a list of their doctor's and just go directly, it'd be easier that way.
Oooooh, the sounds of screaming people, growling spiders, crunching, oozing, gushing sounds of whatever, cars squealing and the loud aggressive soundtrack is getting to be too much for me. Darn it, I want to lie down.
I'm so behind in my e-mail and eBay auctions and there is always so, so much to do, I'm trying, sigh, always trying, to catch up. But hey, at least I'm not dealing with cops and robbers this week. I'm qualifying that sentence because honestly who knows what'll happen to us next week, it's been such a roller coaster ride of life here for so long now.
I got a call from a magazine editor friend of mine yesterday who was contacted by Woman's Day magazine. They want to come and do another shoot here at my house in late April. Do I really want to put us all through the stress of this? It'd be nice to have three solid published stories about my, ha, ha, decorating style. It would help me in my search for work as a stylist. Right now I'm working as an unpaid intern, and grateful for that, grateful for the experience. I wasn't able to work for Kitty this week and last week she wasn't shooting but we'll probably be back on again next week and then the week after I'm going to work for my friend Sunday who is shooting a house in the Hollywood Hills for This Old House. I love styling, I'm good at it, I just wish my body would hurry up and adjust to it's new smaller size and cooperate. I wish I had endless money and time so I could get a terrific trainer and get this waked out body of mine in shape.
Aside from all of that I still haven't given up, (never will), my dreams of a working acting career. I need new headshots but I'm still waiting on an answer about my extreme Sharon Osbourne makeover. I'll call them again on Monday but I'm figuring they've passed on the idea. You never though, every time I think the possibility of this happening has passed, I give them a call and they tell me to hold on. It doesn't matter really, if they don't go for it, it's their loss, and I'll find another way to make it happen. I really want to get this surgery before this summer though because I have two trips planned.
We're going to drive cross country to deliver Irma's van to her in Boston. I've been wanting to do this forever and am really looking forward to it. Maybe I can visit some of you along the way, it'd be nice to see you and a big help money wise if we could sleep with friends rather than at hotels and I know we're going to get sick of sleeping in the van at campgrounds and rest stops.
Later in the summer, of course, there's Burning Man, and I just don't want to be running around naked with these, "long boobs" as the lovely ladies at the manicuring salon called them, more sighs, or fresh scars that need to be protected from the sun.
Did you ever imagine that giant spiders made yappy little squeak squeak sounds, like a bunch of gossipy old Southern women? Nope, me neither. I haven't been able to upload as many pictures as before because I've been using my laptop and I don't have Cute FTP and Photoshop here. I'll have to install them if I'm going to keep working from bed.
I wrote a follow up birthday and Eunice and the cops entry the other night when I was flying high on pain medication for my back. I'll paste that in here behind the cut just in case anyone's interested.
I miss our little Tea Tea. Why is life always full of such heartbreak?
4/1/04 Post Birthday Happenings
I have to preface all of this by saying that I am writing this while on several different pain medications for my back. It seems I may have herniated a disk, yeay, not. I can only hope this will make sense, and I won't regret what I've written, tomorrow. It's not like I'm planning to write about how I lost my virginity or share the details of our sex life, although I will say that when you have weight loss surgery and lose 130 lbs your boobs get pretty darned droopy, scary droopy, and just FYI here, if you accidentally flash one of them at the many Vietnamese women at the nail salon, where you're getting one of those inexpensive but not too terrific massages, and you hear the gals gasp in unison and one of them says, "Oh why are they so looooong?" it won't feel too terrific. There, I've said it. Now I can move on, free of the desire to share the details of my most recent bikini waxing.
Yesterday both Beau's and my back went out at the same time. His is sprained from the, "latent effects of compression fractures," that occurred somewhere along the line because he has, "mild diffuse osteopenia," which is not a good thing. Basically his bones are thin and brittle and we are going to have to work hard to get this very stubborn young boy/man to eat better and exercise. Something that sounds easy but won't be given Beau's super rebellious teenaged nature, sigh, big huge sigh.
Moving on; Thank you everyone so, so much for your sweet and super considerate birthday wishes!!! Your comments always make me feel so loved and cared for, thank you again and again.
My birthday was challenging; my back went out the night before and I had to get up super early to pick up Irma and her kids to take them to the airport so I began my day hurting, exhausted and sad. Because of all of the relatively new airport security rules we weren't allowed to walk them to the gate and see them off so we had to hug them at the X-ray machines and watch their backs as they walked off down the long hallway. Big, sad, heart wrenching loss.
I cried in the airport and Beau broke down and cried when he felt safe with me in the car.
I spent the rest of the day running around doing errands and then had to get dressed and go have dinner with my friends The Sartippours down the street. It was so kind of them to do this for me. Beau, who had tried another medication for ADD just that day and had another adverse reaction, didn't want to come and I was being a wounded pouty Mother because he didn't even bother to give me a card.
At the party my Mom had to be the center of attention as usual and Scott got into one of his internal funks that everyone took notice of. He maintains that he was just exhausted from a rough day at work but I think there was something else going on. It was a weird day all around but I am super grateful to my new friends for going to all of this effort for me; I was so moved, and Scott gave me some nice presents.
We haven't heard anything else from the bad guys. The cops haven't called but I think I'll call them tomorrow to see if they interviewed Eunice or dug up any info on her brother, the armed home invasion robber, weeeee.
I got a call late last night from Esther saying that Eunice had just called her from a pay phone and wanted to come over to talk. Esther told her that she wished her well and hoped she would take something good away from her time with us, that maybe she would stop making excuses, take some responsibility for her behavior and get help. Eunice kept pressing her to let her come by and Esther kept refusing, then Eunice tried to pump Esther for info about what's going on here at my house... I'm too tired and hurting to sit up any more. Love you guys -- Thanks for caring! XOXOXOXO