I've been having so much fun playing with my new camera. This is just a rose in my garden, but up close it looks so sexy and ethereal somehow, more like an orchid than a rose.
I'm at a Starbucks near my home. I eschewed all social responsibilities tonight and took off for Bloomingdales where I bought the new MAC foundation to cover my fugly spotted skin, went to the movies, and afterwards went to a book store. All through the shopping part of my mini-escape my cell phone kept ringing with either Beau or Phil asking me to mediate an argument, or Beau trying to bully me into letting him have his pot-smoking, spray-paint-tagging friend, whose Mother recently called saying she was never going to let him come over again because she felt it was somehow our fault that he called her a "Fuck," over. Of course I didn't give in, but woman, it's getting harder and harder to stand up to him. BTW no one at our house has ever called anyone a Fuck, I mean as far as I know, unless the cats and dogs are doing it while out of our hearing.
I've been fantasizing about running away and doing whatever I felt like doing, for at least a few hours, for a while now, but now that I'm out, it doesn't seem as appealing. I don't feel too well either, I'm tired, my body aches, and I want to be certain that Beau has done his homework and gone to bed.
Everyone around me is speaking Persian. I feel like a pregnant woman who suddenly sees the world peopled with other pregnant women, or someone who just bought the latest purse, (Right now it's that boxy Christian Dior one -- I get tired of trying to keep up -- as soon as everyone knows what the hot new bag is, it isn't hot anymore. I think one of the funniest things I heard anyone say about this was when Nick Lachey asked Jessica Simpson, while they were shopping at Louis Vuitton, if she planning on buying another purse to add to "the overpriced purse graveyard,") only to notice that everyone around her is carrying the same bag. Maybe I'm reaching, it just seems like lately all I hear is Farsi...
Earlier This Afternoon
I had horrible dreams last night about being on a journey with friends and family and kids, and my teeth all rotting and falling out. I was losing a tooth every couple of minutes -- they'd just come out of my gums. And my two front teeth lost the front surfaces of them and were just bloody, purple and dark red inside. It was so scary. There was also something about taking showers with other women while being careful not to damage their books and magazines and things they had left in the showers, Princess Diana, and my car running away and crashing in to things.
Atra freaked out when I told her about my tooth dream. She says that her entire family believe that dreaming about your teeth falling out is the worst possible omen, and begged me not to tell her Mother about this. Her father died shortly after her son Arya had a similar dream about his teeth falling out. She said, "I'm only superstitious about two things, this dream, and mirrors breaking." Yikes.
Tomorrow is my oldest (or maybe I should say longest) on-line friend's birthday, I couldn't make her a card earlier so I'm working on it now. She changed her phone number, (because, well, maybe I can't say why...I guess if you read her journal, you'll know), so I can't call to wish her a Happy Birthday. Her sweet little Pooka-dog has been sick : ( Pooka ate some string and it's upset his intestines but he's better now.
My dog Spirit, (a beautiful black standard poodle), who we have since found a good home for, ate his dog bed once, and needed a major operation costing thousands of dollars to save his life. He just kind of chewed it all down in one great big twisted mass of fiber, it wound all around his intestines and the doctors had to actually lift them out of his belly, make a big incision, and pull this long rope of dog bed material out of him.
I wound up doing another one of Atra's homework assignments for her. Don't chastise me, I can't help myself. This one was about stereotypes and historical accuracy in the film Gone With the Wind. You know, I know it isn't really helping her -- my doing her homework for her -- because she isn't learning if I'm doing the work, but we're not in our twenties, we've lived a lot of our lives, and somehow that makes it feel a little bit different to me. I'm framing this as her having got in over her head in taking two college classes she just didn't have the time to take. If it gets to be too much for me, I'll draw a line. Right now I'm enjoying the subject matter. I'm getting to do the learning she should be doing, it'll probably help improve my writing, and I enjoy helping a friend in need.
I am out of my mind with acquisitive Granny/Mom clothing happiness today. There are a couple of their dresses out there that I really want but money has been tight and I'm so worried there will be a flurry of bidding that will force the price up and cause me to lose these dresses. There's a third dress that I haven't even tried to bid on -- that's how worried about money I've been. But I can't stand to let these dresses go, especially the rarer ones. The reason I'm so happy though, is that Scott helped me heaps and bought a very rare dress for me last night. I just stumbled across it and was so surprised to see one this old in such good shape. I don't have any of this type. I'll write more about it later and link a picture after I've done what I can to secure these other dresses. I have to be careful because I've been warned before about naively linking things here in the belief that "friends" wouldn't bid against me on something they know is so very dear to my heart.
This is my beloved Niki. I think his full name is spelled Nikilananda, his breeder named him, but we've just always called him Niki. He's a Cornish Rex. I'm so happy that one of this series of pictures of him that I took, turned out.