Top 20 Reasons to be HAPPY in January
1. Gaining my freedom and then understanding that it is really just a state of mind after all
2. Dancing in the living room in pink satin pajamas with friends
3. Decaf tea
4. Trying new things for the first time
5. Fuzzy blankets and heaters
6. Silly new socks
7. Living a healthy lifestyle, again
8. Still giving up caffeine successfully
9. Children that love you so dearly that they cry at your parting
10. Building bridges and mending fences with family
11. Knowing you have friends you can depend upon
12. Learning a new language... slowly
13. Feeling beautiful vs. being beautiful
14. Standing in the rain
15. Knowing that the book was better than the movie because you really read it and really saw it
16. Singing lullabys
17. xxxoxxxoxxxo
18. getting a great deal
19. super secret sisterly bonding acts in the bathroom
20. Superbowl Sunday
Sunday, January 1, 2006
Monday, December 26, 2005
My Dance of Freedom...
Dear Friends;
I thought that I would write about freedom. You see it has been something of which I personally have had very little of for quite some time. For me it was a bad choice that I made years ago and I am still reaping the consequences. Now don’t go feeling bad here, that is not the point behind why I am writing about freedom. I am writing about the curiosity of a small seven-letter word and the profound effect that it can have in a person’s life, even in its fleeting passing, it is still freedom. I will be using my life merely as an amusing example of how this can be so. And like I said, it will be amusing, at least I hope so to you (Me, I am not so sure) You see for me, I guess there is really no other way to look at it, but I digress. So freedom, in a light overview
A couple of weeks ago I found myself home alone. (Now for those of MyFriends who are reading this without much knowledge of my past, let us just say that I am seldom alone. I have not been alone for a very long time, and only in stolen moments, a few minutes here, a few minutes there. Yes I drive alone in my car, but someone always knows when I am leaving, where I am going, how long it will take, who I am meeting, and then I am met by someone as soon as I get there So you see, I am not alone. To be so constricted is a regular part of my life now. Like breathing, only less natural. There are times that I forget to let someone know that I am in need to visit the restroom, and then I hear about it for days... About my stupidity and the risk. So you see, I do know what it is like to live how we keep our very treasured show-ponies and pets. I am pampered and spoiled and loved and cared for. But I am never alone. Which is exactly how I found myself a few weeks ago. Alone. It happened quite by accident. With all the crazy preparations that my family was doing to get ready for my Brother and his family's immanent arrival, and the changes in class lengths at school because of all the exams, I found myself home hours before expected.) So Dear Friends, I promised you lightness... Enjoy...
A few weeks ago, I found myself home alone. It was just for a couple of hours. Nothing all too shocking. I walked into a quiet house and set down my school paraphernalia. Nothing out of the ordinary. I called out Hello to whoever might be home at the time. Just like always. And no one answered. I thought perhaps they were napping. So I walked quietly down the hall. And I do mean quietly. (It is funny, no matter how many years it has been since you left home, you always remember where the creaky spots are and your feet somehow miraculously instinctively avoid them.) But it was for nothing. No one was napping. As a matter of fact, no one was there.
At first I thought that they must be in the garage doing laundry No Or outside sneaking a smoke… No… Or around the side yard struggling with the trashcan lids… No… Or well… um… Wow!
GONE
As in not here. As in ran to the store for a dozen eggs and the latest trashy Enquirer, or to the neighbor’s house for a proverbial cup of sugar, or to the bank for some fast cash, or to Starbucks for a coffee
(Side note: I am one of the few coffee snobs in my family, I swear I am not related to those whose blood runs darker and more bitter than mine due to the large consumption of over processed, over roasted coffee beans… Sorry, I just had to.)
So I waited for a few minutes. Nothing. No one.
QUIET.
Ahhh. Total quiet… I tried to read a book. But No Too quiet and too brain-fried from finals And still I found I was alone. So I slowly wandered around the house and looked at things. Sort of a duller, more grown up, slow motion version of Home Alone. Which is exactly how I felt.
HOME ALONE
After several more minutes of wandering around and pulling lint off of the back of the sofa in the front room and moving the magnets around on the refrigerator I realized that there must be a mix up in the communication network of my life And the time alone that I had was a glitch! WooHooo!!
(You know, I used to have a pair of longhaired miniature doxxies. I kept them in a kennel when I was gone at work. When I returned home at the end of the day and let them out, they would run up and down the hallway like it was a racecourse. Dashing as fast as their tiny legs would generate back and forth. Lap after lap until they collapsed into the pile of dirty clothes that I had on the floor of my closet. I never did understand that strange daily ritual)
So I decided to put on some soft music Hey Belly Dance Rhythms of the Nile can be considered soft music Which is what it was, with the volume turned way down Then I decided to spend a little extra time getting ready for a date I had later I took a wonderful shower and decided to use every type of conditioner I had for that extra glossy shine. I even left it in for the full five minutes recommended I wrapped my hair in a towel to pull out the water and keep in the heat. (No sense in undoing all that conditioning shine by over-using my blow dryer, right?) I tried on what seemed like every outfit in my closet, and still had nothing that I wanted to wear. So I decided to remove the raccoon eyes left on my face from the result of mixing blacker than black mascara and hot water together. Now when I say raccoon eyes. I am being polite. And flattering What I really mean is night of the living dead as played by Rob Zombie or Marilyn Manson But raccoon eyes sounds so much more girly. But just as I was pulling out the cotton balls and makeup remover, it came across my mind to pull a certain pair of jeans out of the dryer to wear on my date. They did that cute butt thing and went perfectly with my new shoes… so I went to the garage to get the jeans. Which were still wet and needed to dry just a bit more for optimal butt thing enhancing
Now, Dear Friends, is where it finally sinks in that I am truly alone. As in the I can do whatever I want ant no one cares, because I don’t care kind of alone And there is music with a rockin beat on (And I do have this small problem of uncontrollable movement when there is good music playing and I loved the song that was on and the one after that one too) So I danced A hip drop here.. a shimmy there Add some pretty hand gestures, a stomach flutter and a few spins and you get the picture.
Well almost What I have not mentioned is that I was partially dressed. Or that I had decided to wear a skirt before I utilized my female prerogative and changed my mind to the cute butt thing jeans And for those of you who know me well, you know that part of what I consider being a lady is wearing the right undergarments for the occasion. A skirt worn with the possibility of dancing requires one of two things Kick pants, or granny panties. Kick pants being something I reserve for the more important dancing venues, such as competitions or performances due to the uncomfortable nature of excess fabric, I opted for the granny panties.
I also failed to mention that I was dancing throughout the house from room to room as I got ready. And that part of the passing through included the kitchen and dining rooms Did I also forget to say that upon my arrival home, and in my search for the other occupants, I peered out the windows? Or that when I thought that I had closed the curtains completely, I just assumed that they had swung totally back in place and not leaving a huge gaping hole open? No? Well
Then it wont surprise you to discover that our mail is delivered late in the afternoon Or that our mailbox is placed just below the kitchen window, (conveniently) so the lady of the house, doing her daily dishes knows precisely when the mail has been delivered? Or, that in the middle of my girly-heaven rendition of the famous dancing scene from Risky Business, I turned around to see the carrier of said mail staring at me through the fore mentioned kitchen window? Yeah… I think you are starting to see the picture my Dear Friends
But just to insure that you have total absorption without any mystification Let me clarify just a bit further before I come to a long awaited end to my sad-yet-true tale.
When I went to school a few days later and told my teammates of this event that transpired in my life, the guys were immediately jumping to the conclusion of what a lucky mailman I have, and that I would certainly get my mail hand delivered from now on But being the (loveable) guys that they were, they had jumped to this slightly inaccurate vision as I was recounting what took place:
Sexy, curvy big chested Muse, with her hair gloriously swinging around in slow motion across her face. Her body gyrating with her hands on her thighs like in one of those heavy metal videos from the late 80s. Her tiny, lacy thong the only thing covering her body, and her perfectly made up face expressing pure rapture from the stolen moment
Did you hear that screeching of brakes? That was me reminding you all that it was really more like this:
Sexy, curvy big chested Muse, (Hey it IS still me, and it IS still my story) practicing new belly dancing movements to unheard music while narrowly missing the table and chairs as she spins off balance from the additional weight of the bath towel wrapped around her head. Her blouse and granny panties are twisting around her stumbling body while her gruesome, mascara strewn face is scrunching up in momentary concentration and then contorting to a look of total shock to match that of the poor hapless mailman who had the unfortunate timing to witness all of the above.
Only in my world do things like this happen. Oh well And this Dear Friends is what happens when I get a small taste of freedom. Perhaps I am better off with the pampering and spoiling of a well guarded show-pony (If you have ever met my Dad, then you would not wonder at this statement You would SOOO understand)
So for those of you Dear Friends I am visiting in January Please consider yourself forewarned. These things happen to me all the time. I only blog about a few of them Really Just ask some of my teammates (Only they better not tell because I have equal dirt on them)
So anyway, when we go out together and I am feeling my momentary freedom of being far away from home Please understand that strange and entertaining things are bound to happen.
For now Just know that I don’t think that the mailman has quite recovered.
We had a new mailman the next day, the old one has not returned... And when I passed the new mailman as I was going out to my car, he would not look at me when I said hello. He merely mumbled something and kept to his mail And my holiday packages that I received conformation of shipment have still not arrived
So life goes on the mail may never be the same but life goes on one small piece of freedom at a time
I thought that I would write about freedom. You see it has been something of which I personally have had very little of for quite some time. For me it was a bad choice that I made years ago and I am still reaping the consequences. Now don’t go feeling bad here, that is not the point behind why I am writing about freedom. I am writing about the curiosity of a small seven-letter word and the profound effect that it can have in a person’s life, even in its fleeting passing, it is still freedom. I will be using my life merely as an amusing example of how this can be so. And like I said, it will be amusing, at least I hope so to you (Me, I am not so sure) You see for me, I guess there is really no other way to look at it, but I digress. So freedom, in a light overview
A couple of weeks ago I found myself home alone. (Now for those of MyFriends who are reading this without much knowledge of my past, let us just say that I am seldom alone. I have not been alone for a very long time, and only in stolen moments, a few minutes here, a few minutes there. Yes I drive alone in my car, but someone always knows when I am leaving, where I am going, how long it will take, who I am meeting, and then I am met by someone as soon as I get there So you see, I am not alone. To be so constricted is a regular part of my life now. Like breathing, only less natural. There are times that I forget to let someone know that I am in need to visit the restroom, and then I hear about it for days... About my stupidity and the risk. So you see, I do know what it is like to live how we keep our very treasured show-ponies and pets. I am pampered and spoiled and loved and cared for. But I am never alone. Which is exactly how I found myself a few weeks ago. Alone. It happened quite by accident. With all the crazy preparations that my family was doing to get ready for my Brother and his family's immanent arrival, and the changes in class lengths at school because of all the exams, I found myself home hours before expected.) So Dear Friends, I promised you lightness... Enjoy...
A few weeks ago, I found myself home alone. It was just for a couple of hours. Nothing all too shocking. I walked into a quiet house and set down my school paraphernalia. Nothing out of the ordinary. I called out Hello to whoever might be home at the time. Just like always. And no one answered. I thought perhaps they were napping. So I walked quietly down the hall. And I do mean quietly. (It is funny, no matter how many years it has been since you left home, you always remember where the creaky spots are and your feet somehow miraculously instinctively avoid them.) But it was for nothing. No one was napping. As a matter of fact, no one was there.
At first I thought that they must be in the garage doing laundry No Or outside sneaking a smoke… No… Or around the side yard struggling with the trashcan lids… No… Or well… um… Wow!
GONE
As in not here. As in ran to the store for a dozen eggs and the latest trashy Enquirer, or to the neighbor’s house for a proverbial cup of sugar, or to the bank for some fast cash, or to Starbucks for a coffee
(Side note: I am one of the few coffee snobs in my family, I swear I am not related to those whose blood runs darker and more bitter than mine due to the large consumption of over processed, over roasted coffee beans… Sorry, I just had to.)
So I waited for a few minutes. Nothing. No one.
QUIET.
Ahhh. Total quiet… I tried to read a book. But No Too quiet and too brain-fried from finals And still I found I was alone. So I slowly wandered around the house and looked at things. Sort of a duller, more grown up, slow motion version of Home Alone. Which is exactly how I felt.
HOME ALONE
After several more minutes of wandering around and pulling lint off of the back of the sofa in the front room and moving the magnets around on the refrigerator I realized that there must be a mix up in the communication network of my life And the time alone that I had was a glitch! WooHooo!!
(You know, I used to have a pair of longhaired miniature doxxies. I kept them in a kennel when I was gone at work. When I returned home at the end of the day and let them out, they would run up and down the hallway like it was a racecourse. Dashing as fast as their tiny legs would generate back and forth. Lap after lap until they collapsed into the pile of dirty clothes that I had on the floor of my closet. I never did understand that strange daily ritual)
So I decided to put on some soft music Hey Belly Dance Rhythms of the Nile can be considered soft music Which is what it was, with the volume turned way down Then I decided to spend a little extra time getting ready for a date I had later I took a wonderful shower and decided to use every type of conditioner I had for that extra glossy shine. I even left it in for the full five minutes recommended I wrapped my hair in a towel to pull out the water and keep in the heat. (No sense in undoing all that conditioning shine by over-using my blow dryer, right?) I tried on what seemed like every outfit in my closet, and still had nothing that I wanted to wear. So I decided to remove the raccoon eyes left on my face from the result of mixing blacker than black mascara and hot water together. Now when I say raccoon eyes. I am being polite. And flattering What I really mean is night of the living dead as played by Rob Zombie or Marilyn Manson But raccoon eyes sounds so much more girly. But just as I was pulling out the cotton balls and makeup remover, it came across my mind to pull a certain pair of jeans out of the dryer to wear on my date. They did that cute butt thing and went perfectly with my new shoes… so I went to the garage to get the jeans. Which were still wet and needed to dry just a bit more for optimal butt thing enhancing
Now, Dear Friends, is where it finally sinks in that I am truly alone. As in the I can do whatever I want ant no one cares, because I don’t care kind of alone And there is music with a rockin beat on (And I do have this small problem of uncontrollable movement when there is good music playing and I loved the song that was on and the one after that one too) So I danced A hip drop here.. a shimmy there Add some pretty hand gestures, a stomach flutter and a few spins and you get the picture.
Well almost What I have not mentioned is that I was partially dressed. Or that I had decided to wear a skirt before I utilized my female prerogative and changed my mind to the cute butt thing jeans And for those of you who know me well, you know that part of what I consider being a lady is wearing the right undergarments for the occasion. A skirt worn with the possibility of dancing requires one of two things Kick pants, or granny panties. Kick pants being something I reserve for the more important dancing venues, such as competitions or performances due to the uncomfortable nature of excess fabric, I opted for the granny panties.
I also failed to mention that I was dancing throughout the house from room to room as I got ready. And that part of the passing through included the kitchen and dining rooms Did I also forget to say that upon my arrival home, and in my search for the other occupants, I peered out the windows? Or that when I thought that I had closed the curtains completely, I just assumed that they had swung totally back in place and not leaving a huge gaping hole open? No? Well
Then it wont surprise you to discover that our mail is delivered late in the afternoon Or that our mailbox is placed just below the kitchen window, (conveniently) so the lady of the house, doing her daily dishes knows precisely when the mail has been delivered? Or, that in the middle of my girly-heaven rendition of the famous dancing scene from Risky Business, I turned around to see the carrier of said mail staring at me through the fore mentioned kitchen window? Yeah… I think you are starting to see the picture my Dear Friends
But just to insure that you have total absorption without any mystification Let me clarify just a bit further before I come to a long awaited end to my sad-yet-true tale.
When I went to school a few days later and told my teammates of this event that transpired in my life, the guys were immediately jumping to the conclusion of what a lucky mailman I have, and that I would certainly get my mail hand delivered from now on But being the (loveable) guys that they were, they had jumped to this slightly inaccurate vision as I was recounting what took place:
Sexy, curvy big chested Muse, with her hair gloriously swinging around in slow motion across her face. Her body gyrating with her hands on her thighs like in one of those heavy metal videos from the late 80s. Her tiny, lacy thong the only thing covering her body, and her perfectly made up face expressing pure rapture from the stolen moment
Did you hear that screeching of brakes? That was me reminding you all that it was really more like this:
Sexy, curvy big chested Muse, (Hey it IS still me, and it IS still my story) practicing new belly dancing movements to unheard music while narrowly missing the table and chairs as she spins off balance from the additional weight of the bath towel wrapped around her head. Her blouse and granny panties are twisting around her stumbling body while her gruesome, mascara strewn face is scrunching up in momentary concentration and then contorting to a look of total shock to match that of the poor hapless mailman who had the unfortunate timing to witness all of the above.
Only in my world do things like this happen. Oh well And this Dear Friends is what happens when I get a small taste of freedom. Perhaps I am better off with the pampering and spoiling of a well guarded show-pony (If you have ever met my Dad, then you would not wonder at this statement You would SOOO understand)
So for those of you Dear Friends I am visiting in January Please consider yourself forewarned. These things happen to me all the time. I only blog about a few of them Really Just ask some of my teammates (Only they better not tell because I have equal dirt on them)
So anyway, when we go out together and I am feeling my momentary freedom of being far away from home Please understand that strange and entertaining things are bound to happen.
For now Just know that I don’t think that the mailman has quite recovered.
We had a new mailman the next day, the old one has not returned... And when I passed the new mailman as I was going out to my car, he would not look at me when I said hello. He merely mumbled something and kept to his mail And my holiday packages that I received conformation of shipment have still not arrived
So life goes on the mail may never be the same but life goes on one small piece of freedom at a time
Thursday, December 1, 2005
Top 20 reasons to be HAPPY...
Top 20 Reasons to be Happy in December
1. Seeing shades of gray
2. Taking a bronze medal in the ACF Jr. Team State Culinary Competition
3. Nonstop conversation for almost 20 hours of a road trip
4. End of fall term
5. Far away family in town for visits
6. New births in the family
7. Making fish tar tare instead of fish fillet and being happy about it
8. Seeing the latest Harry Potter and loving it
9. My Mothers Soup Party Tradition
10. Buying, making, wrapping, decorating gifts for loved ones
11. Decorating huge, fancy sugar cookies with the kids
12. Postcards and holidays cards and letters in the real mail
13. Everyone dressing in red to match like the geeks that we are and being happy about it because it is Christmas
14. Wearing my glasses and being told repeatedly that I am hotter for it (Hmmm who knew I had so many friends with teacher and librarian fantasies??)
15. Surviving four days of turkey dinners and knowing that there will be ham for dinner in December
16. Being able to finally wear all my pretty scarves and sweaters
17. Needing to build an ark as they visit two by two
18. 20 minutes of ecstasy and utter warmth from the salon on a regular basis
19. Admitting to and enjoying being a my space junkie
20. Fully committing to doing things that are way outside of my usual comfort zones, and embracing the growth that results from it
1. Seeing shades of gray
2. Taking a bronze medal in the ACF Jr. Team State Culinary Competition
3. Nonstop conversation for almost 20 hours of a road trip
4. End of fall term
5. Far away family in town for visits
6. New births in the family
7. Making fish tar tare instead of fish fillet and being happy about it
8. Seeing the latest Harry Potter and loving it
9. My Mothers Soup Party Tradition
10. Buying, making, wrapping, decorating gifts for loved ones
11. Decorating huge, fancy sugar cookies with the kids
12. Postcards and holidays cards and letters in the real mail
13. Everyone dressing in red to match like the geeks that we are and being happy about it because it is Christmas
14. Wearing my glasses and being told repeatedly that I am hotter for it (Hmmm who knew I had so many friends with teacher and librarian fantasies??)
15. Surviving four days of turkey dinners and knowing that there will be ham for dinner in December
16. Being able to finally wear all my pretty scarves and sweaters
17. Needing to build an ark as they visit two by two
18. 20 minutes of ecstasy and utter warmth from the salon on a regular basis
19. Admitting to and enjoying being a my space junkie
20. Fully committing to doing things that are way outside of my usual comfort zones, and embracing the growth that results from it
Friday, November 4, 2005
Long Live the Queen of Caffeene...
Dear Friends;
This past weekend I went up to Sacramento for the weekend to go to an event in the west. Actually, I was talked into it. I am glad that I went, but it was so un-planned. Not like me at all. Crystel Leake drove up to see her sister and then picked me up at the airport so we could go bring havoc upon the Westies.
The event was Cynaqua Coronet. Just outside Oroville, about an hour and a half away from Sacramento. It was cold and dark and rainy and muddy and very small. The people we were supposed to camp with did not show until the next day- and then only two of them came at all.
Sounds like a terrible event for my prissy, pampered self to attend, right? And that was only the first day... So Crystel Leake and I did what any princess and her best partner-in-crime would do in a situation like that, we tried to set up in the rain. (I was a drowning rat shivering in my Sothern California "Oh look it's winter" sweater.) We made new friends. (Elsie taught me that they hug and kiss differently in the West because everyone is wet. She also gave us a dry place to hang out, bless that lady! I will love her for life!) And after begging... and having to admit that I am indeed a pretty pretty princess... and that it was all my idea to go find alternative arrangements for sleeping... my dear friend admitted that she wanted the same thing, but was going to wash away with the mud before she let the acknowledged prin-cess outlast her for trying...
We then left the tents, partially set up, in the cold, wet, muddy camp. And we stayed in a motel twenty miles away.
We were warm, we were dry, we had hot water and real beds. We were delirious. We went to a local Vintage Shoppe where I found a shawl, a sweater, and a couple of coats. (Hey, I was really cold and it was on my mind to keep warm.) It was like going to the grocery store when you are hungry... Crystel Leake collected a phone number from a tall hottie who had the most wonderful manners. (Hey it was really cold and it was on her mind to keep warm.)
(Side note; For those of you who have already read her Blog accounting her version of this trip... Keep in mind the difference between our perspectives... Second-hand Store equates Thrift Store for her, Second-hand Store equates Vintage Shoppe for me. And yes, though I do love her, I prefer my reality...)
After shopping we went back to the motel. I promptly went to bed. (Hey, I was cold and it was on my mind to keep warm.) Crystel Leake went to the front desk to get some towels, at least that is what I think she said, I was in a hypothermic coma at the time... I believe that she wanted a long hot shower. (Hey she was cold and it was on her maind to keep warm.) There she met another hottie who asked her for her info and then took her out for coffee, which led into dinner. Do I really need to say again how cold it was?
In the morning, I had the longest, hottest shower I can remember taking alone... (Please... Pot you are black...) A full five minutes at least. Usually I am the first one in and pop right back out so that I can take my leasure in getting ready. Also I don't make others wait on me... They just enjoy the hot water while I play "Let's go shopping in my closet". And yes, even when I travel, I have a closet.
She and I primped and preened and made ourselves up all pretty. (Especially considering that we were returning to the mud.) I love to get ready to go someplace. I love to take care of myself and wearing pretties and frillies and smelling all girly makes me feel so wonderful and spoiled... and I can do it myself.... It is even better when I can get ready with other girls...
(Side note; This is why I have two, yes two full length mirrors with me when I attend Wars. A story for another time...)
So... I got all dressed up in my girly-clothes Caid style. Read Middle-eastern layers, not the Vikings of the West, which by the way I understand the popularity of now. (It was cold in Greenland...) At the last minute I grabbed the ugly/bright grim-briegs that I had made for a grimmest of the grim contest years ago... I thought it would be a good laugh and it would cheer me up because color always does. I also thought since I was unkown in the area it would give people a conversation starter... Little did I know that for this specific event (Due to the much mentioned mud) the locals have a tradition to wear their most outragious clothing and all I did was confound them because they were sure that I was from elsewhere, but then again, I looked just like them... Just ask the fudge-lady who handed us the spoons from her freshly made fudge as we walked by... It's only me... Well actually it seems to be not only me, it seems that there are about seventy other pod-people out there who have joined forces to take over the world one friendly smile and hug at a time... Creepy and yet oddly comforting in a Twilight Zone sort of way... I loved it!! I felt at home...
So I tangent... often... but you were warned in my previous Blogs... No apologies for you...
So we entered the event Saturday morning... all fresh and warm and rested and in grand spirits. I had gotten lucky and we had coffee. Did you know that there is no Starbucks in Oroville? Yeah, neither did Crystel Leake... poor dear... She was crest-fallen when I exited the gas station carrying five coffees. (I had originally stopped just for me, while she was refueling the car, but a local informed me that there were no hideous coffee chains in town and this was the best right here... I agree... And as I had no further gas station coffee mishaps I was in a very grand mood.)
(Side note; See prior Blog for full understanding.)
So we entered the event Saturday morning... carrying five coffees for new friends that we had just made. I was well rested, happily deep into my cups... of coffee that is... and ready to take on the rain. I normally love the rain so I think it is funny that just the lack of sleep can undo me so easily.
I am so very, very thankful to the Spartans and to the people of the West for their un-yeilding and wonderful hospitality. I always feel so welcome when I am able to visit with them and I never cease to be amazed at how strangers can feel so like family after a few short minutes. Don't get me wrong, I love the place that I come from, and have great pride in all of the incredible people at home... but I appreciate the differences between the locals in each place and enjoy all that makes each group unique.
(Side note; I may never get through this Blog if I keep this up, so now I am sorry...)
So we entered the event Saturday morning, Crystal Leake laden down like a pack mule carrying the "Thank you for the hospitality" gifts of (Yes, you got it...) coffees and chocolates and cokes... Caffiene makes the world go round... I was doing the balancing act with five gigantic hot coffees, and as we are passing to our destination, I hear the cry of "Long live the Queen of Caffeine, May she reign supreme..." So it appears I have two niches- clothes and stimulation- (Let's keep this G rated, shall we?)
We did have a lot of fun. The tournament was so beautiful it took my breath away. As the mists rolled in among the biggest pine trees I have ever seen, I thought my heart would stop beating. I think that it actually did... Or maybe it was due to too much coffee, but I would have died happy either way... I love the flowery speeches that the fighters give when they deliver a rose to the victor's Lady of choice. And I can so understand, and hence appreciate, the long hike down wet, muddy and trecherous (for a lady in yards of fabric) terrain to the site. No mundane items in viewing. It was magical. Especially when the sun peeked out from the trees and dappled the fighters upon the field and glinted off their armor. There were suprise visits from friends that had moved up there as well as friends who decided at the last minute to go, so my day was more complete for the time spent with them. (Though we never do get a real chance to hang out, I do adore my far away friends.)
That evening things were rather quiet. I did however manage to follow the sounds of the drums and play the game of "Who breaks first? The drummer or the dancer?" Sneaky Westies, they traded off drummers... there were six of them, and one of me... So I actually had to cry "Uncle" an unusual thing for me...
Crystel Leake and I re-connected with the Lady of the Mists and the lovely MaryAnne. I think it safe to say that we were the party. If you consider four beauties sitting around a picnic table laughing until everyone else is well in bed, and performing hand checks to the eruption of even more laughter and shrieking when Crystel Leake lost hers for the second time in her cleavage. (Now where is your mind- HOT hands- to keep warm when there are no, shall we say, available masculine alternatives?) We were up giggling until 3am when we realized that it was about 20 degrees and the hot hands had lost their warmth.
And this is where my adventure ends... For now anyway... The rest is just capers about airports and the "unique" individuals that a person can meet there. and as I have gone on and on and on already, I will save that for another Blog at another time...
(One last Side note; There was a wonderful Westie who tore down our tents and packed them all away for us. He was beyond wonderful and anyone who may have knowledge of how to tell him how grateful the Caidan Ladies were, are, always will be... Please do so.)
This past weekend I went up to Sacramento for the weekend to go to an event in the west. Actually, I was talked into it. I am glad that I went, but it was so un-planned. Not like me at all. Crystel Leake drove up to see her sister and then picked me up at the airport so we could go bring havoc upon the Westies.
The event was Cynaqua Coronet. Just outside Oroville, about an hour and a half away from Sacramento. It was cold and dark and rainy and muddy and very small. The people we were supposed to camp with did not show until the next day- and then only two of them came at all.
Sounds like a terrible event for my prissy, pampered self to attend, right? And that was only the first day... So Crystel Leake and I did what any princess and her best partner-in-crime would do in a situation like that, we tried to set up in the rain. (I was a drowning rat shivering in my Sothern California "Oh look it's winter" sweater.) We made new friends. (Elsie taught me that they hug and kiss differently in the West because everyone is wet. She also gave us a dry place to hang out, bless that lady! I will love her for life!) And after begging... and having to admit that I am indeed a pretty pretty princess... and that it was all my idea to go find alternative arrangements for sleeping... my dear friend admitted that she wanted the same thing, but was going to wash away with the mud before she let the acknowledged prin-cess outlast her for trying...
We then left the tents, partially set up, in the cold, wet, muddy camp. And we stayed in a motel twenty miles away.
We were warm, we were dry, we had hot water and real beds. We were delirious. We went to a local Vintage Shoppe where I found a shawl, a sweater, and a couple of coats. (Hey, I was really cold and it was on my mind to keep warm.) It was like going to the grocery store when you are hungry... Crystel Leake collected a phone number from a tall hottie who had the most wonderful manners. (Hey it was really cold and it was on her mind to keep warm.)
(Side note; For those of you who have already read her Blog accounting her version of this trip... Keep in mind the difference between our perspectives... Second-hand Store equates Thrift Store for her, Second-hand Store equates Vintage Shoppe for me. And yes, though I do love her, I prefer my reality...)
After shopping we went back to the motel. I promptly went to bed. (Hey, I was cold and it was on my mind to keep warm.) Crystel Leake went to the front desk to get some towels, at least that is what I think she said, I was in a hypothermic coma at the time... I believe that she wanted a long hot shower. (Hey she was cold and it was on her maind to keep warm.) There she met another hottie who asked her for her info and then took her out for coffee, which led into dinner. Do I really need to say again how cold it was?
In the morning, I had the longest, hottest shower I can remember taking alone... (Please... Pot you are black...) A full five minutes at least. Usually I am the first one in and pop right back out so that I can take my leasure in getting ready. Also I don't make others wait on me... They just enjoy the hot water while I play "Let's go shopping in my closet". And yes, even when I travel, I have a closet.
She and I primped and preened and made ourselves up all pretty. (Especially considering that we were returning to the mud.) I love to get ready to go someplace. I love to take care of myself and wearing pretties and frillies and smelling all girly makes me feel so wonderful and spoiled... and I can do it myself.... It is even better when I can get ready with other girls...
(Side note; This is why I have two, yes two full length mirrors with me when I attend Wars. A story for another time...)
So... I got all dressed up in my girly-clothes Caid style. Read Middle-eastern layers, not the Vikings of the West, which by the way I understand the popularity of now. (It was cold in Greenland...) At the last minute I grabbed the ugly/bright grim-briegs that I had made for a grimmest of the grim contest years ago... I thought it would be a good laugh and it would cheer me up because color always does. I also thought since I was unkown in the area it would give people a conversation starter... Little did I know that for this specific event (Due to the much mentioned mud) the locals have a tradition to wear their most outragious clothing and all I did was confound them because they were sure that I was from elsewhere, but then again, I looked just like them... Just ask the fudge-lady who handed us the spoons from her freshly made fudge as we walked by... It's only me... Well actually it seems to be not only me, it seems that there are about seventy other pod-people out there who have joined forces to take over the world one friendly smile and hug at a time... Creepy and yet oddly comforting in a Twilight Zone sort of way... I loved it!! I felt at home...
So I tangent... often... but you were warned in my previous Blogs... No apologies for you...
So we entered the event Saturday morning... all fresh and warm and rested and in grand spirits. I had gotten lucky and we had coffee. Did you know that there is no Starbucks in Oroville? Yeah, neither did Crystel Leake... poor dear... She was crest-fallen when I exited the gas station carrying five coffees. (I had originally stopped just for me, while she was refueling the car, but a local informed me that there were no hideous coffee chains in town and this was the best right here... I agree... And as I had no further gas station coffee mishaps I was in a very grand mood.)
(Side note; See prior Blog for full understanding.)
So we entered the event Saturday morning... carrying five coffees for new friends that we had just made. I was well rested, happily deep into my cups... of coffee that is... and ready to take on the rain. I normally love the rain so I think it is funny that just the lack of sleep can undo me so easily.
I am so very, very thankful to the Spartans and to the people of the West for their un-yeilding and wonderful hospitality. I always feel so welcome when I am able to visit with them and I never cease to be amazed at how strangers can feel so like family after a few short minutes. Don't get me wrong, I love the place that I come from, and have great pride in all of the incredible people at home... but I appreciate the differences between the locals in each place and enjoy all that makes each group unique.
(Side note; I may never get through this Blog if I keep this up, so now I am sorry...)
So we entered the event Saturday morning, Crystal Leake laden down like a pack mule carrying the "Thank you for the hospitality" gifts of (Yes, you got it...) coffees and chocolates and cokes... Caffiene makes the world go round... I was doing the balancing act with five gigantic hot coffees, and as we are passing to our destination, I hear the cry of "Long live the Queen of Caffeine, May she reign supreme..." So it appears I have two niches- clothes and stimulation- (Let's keep this G rated, shall we?)
We did have a lot of fun. The tournament was so beautiful it took my breath away. As the mists rolled in among the biggest pine trees I have ever seen, I thought my heart would stop beating. I think that it actually did... Or maybe it was due to too much coffee, but I would have died happy either way... I love the flowery speeches that the fighters give when they deliver a rose to the victor's Lady of choice. And I can so understand, and hence appreciate, the long hike down wet, muddy and trecherous (for a lady in yards of fabric) terrain to the site. No mundane items in viewing. It was magical. Especially when the sun peeked out from the trees and dappled the fighters upon the field and glinted off their armor. There were suprise visits from friends that had moved up there as well as friends who decided at the last minute to go, so my day was more complete for the time spent with them. (Though we never do get a real chance to hang out, I do adore my far away friends.)
That evening things were rather quiet. I did however manage to follow the sounds of the drums and play the game of "Who breaks first? The drummer or the dancer?" Sneaky Westies, they traded off drummers... there were six of them, and one of me... So I actually had to cry "Uncle" an unusual thing for me...
Crystel Leake and I re-connected with the Lady of the Mists and the lovely MaryAnne. I think it safe to say that we were the party. If you consider four beauties sitting around a picnic table laughing until everyone else is well in bed, and performing hand checks to the eruption of even more laughter and shrieking when Crystel Leake lost hers for the second time in her cleavage. (Now where is your mind- HOT hands- to keep warm when there are no, shall we say, available masculine alternatives?) We were up giggling until 3am when we realized that it was about 20 degrees and the hot hands had lost their warmth.
And this is where my adventure ends... For now anyway... The rest is just capers about airports and the "unique" individuals that a person can meet there. and as I have gone on and on and on already, I will save that for another Blog at another time...
(One last Side note; There was a wonderful Westie who tore down our tents and packed them all away for us. He was beyond wonderful and anyone who may have knowledge of how to tell him how grateful the Caidan Ladies were, are, always will be... Please do so.)
Tuesday, November 1, 2005
Top 20 Reasons to be HAPPY...
Top 20 Reasons to be HAPPY in November
1. My birthday
2. 3 AM team bonding after a very long practice session
3. Friends that help you get into trouble
4. Friends that join you when you get into trouble so that you can have significant amounts of laughter and commiseration regarding said trouble
5. Wonderful Westie men who tear down your tents in the rain and pack them up all pretty so you don't have to
6. Collecting old fashioned snow globes the size of baseballs when you travel
7. Flying anywhere
8. Raiding the refrigerator
9. Having a bed warmer vs. an electric blanket
10. Pumpkin pies, cakes, pancakes, muffins, quick breads, ice cream, doughnuts, cheesecakes, lattes... truly pumpkin anything
11. Campfire parties in the forest
12. The tangy scent of wax and varnish
13. Hot tea in front of a roaring fireplace
14. Looking irresistible
15. Microfiche and mammoth sized dictionaries
16. All night vigils of pleasure
17. Adding two things to your list for every one that you can cross off
18. Having someone who will help you cross things off the fore mentioned list
19. Handmade afghans
20. Hot hands hand checks and discovering that not everyone can find theirs
1. My birthday
2. 3 AM team bonding after a very long practice session
3. Friends that help you get into trouble
4. Friends that join you when you get into trouble so that you can have significant amounts of laughter and commiseration regarding said trouble
5. Wonderful Westie men who tear down your tents in the rain and pack them up all pretty so you don't have to
6. Collecting old fashioned snow globes the size of baseballs when you travel
7. Flying anywhere
8. Raiding the refrigerator
9. Having a bed warmer vs. an electric blanket
10. Pumpkin pies, cakes, pancakes, muffins, quick breads, ice cream, doughnuts, cheesecakes, lattes... truly pumpkin anything
11. Campfire parties in the forest
12. The tangy scent of wax and varnish
13. Hot tea in front of a roaring fireplace
14. Looking irresistible
15. Microfiche and mammoth sized dictionaries
16. All night vigils of pleasure
17. Adding two things to your list for every one that you can cross off
18. Having someone who will help you cross things off the fore mentioned list
19. Handmade afghans
20. Hot hands hand checks and discovering that not everyone can find theirs
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