She Summers in Maine

Y'all, I am tired. Like final exams tired, except without the sense of accomplishment and completion. Otherwise it's the same - messy apartment, errands unfinished, empty fridge, and careless grooming. There is also the absence of a sense of humor, a touch of snarkiness, and the short temper. Working hard has caught up with me.

So I'm going on vacation. To Maine. I get to spend two weeks with my favorite person in the world, my sister. We have outdoorsy adventures planned, homecooked meals to savor, and new kitchen dancing moves to show off. Expect posts (if any) to be overly enamoured of fresh air and chowdah.

The Gold

Sad news for those of us who prefer our Mr. T with gold chains. According to an AP story, Mr. T decided to put away his gold chains after seeing the effects of Hurricane Katrina.

Last time I wrote about Mr. T, I received two emails letting me know he has a new show coming to TV Land this fall. The name of that show you ask? "I Pity the Fool". This is where Mr. T gets to use his skills and give advice to troubled people. As Mr. T explains, "Yes, I am qualified to beat people up. But I am pretty intelligent".

Something tells me a lot of fools are going to be told to stay in school and don't do drugs. This is going to be awesome, I just know it!

A Very Cruel Joke

Here is the transcript from a message on my answering machine today:

"This is Zell Miller asking you to vote for my friend Ralph Reed..."

Delete! Cancelling my landline has suddenly moved up a few notches on my to-do list.

Lots of fun, but no time to write

Catching up on events from the past week:

Where I Proved Myself to be Jumpier than an 80 Year Old
On July 4th, I was injured during a fireworks incident. Okay, so that sounds worse than it is, but better than calling it the rosebush incident. During a home fireworks display that suddenly got bigger than I expected, I leaned too far back in my chair. If not for Victoria using her superhero strength to catch me, I would have cracked my head on the wall of her building. Instead, I scraped my nose on a rosebush. Her grandmother, on the other hand, just stayed calm while some of us (ahem) are screaming and flailing about.

When Coworkers Discovered Why I’m Smiling So Much Lately
My 33rd birthday was last week, and the day started with the phone calls I was expecting:
6:30 AM - received birthday call from my parents
6:54 AM - received birthday call from my sister
And wait, what’s this? A 7:15 AM call from Owen, wishing me a happy birthday. Hello, boyfriend! Later that day, I received a double flower delivery. My work colleagues have seen me get flowers before, but only from my parents. They were nearly as excited as I was to finally be getting flowers at work from a sweetheart.

How I Broke Up With Chocolate Martinis
Tasty, yes. But also deadly. This year, I thought I could pull off a fling with chocolate martinis while beer had his back turned. It so backfired - the day after I took the chocolate martinis for a night on the town, the thought of booze or chocolate was repulsive. Best to avoid something that makes me not want chocolate. Besides, beer loves me and never lets me down.

Getting the Upgrade
Recently I had to retire my trusty flask. And by retire, I mean chuck it out. Apparently, if you don’t finish the contents of your flask, you have to empty it or it will rust. But this just meant that I was able to get a lovelier flask from Victoria and Nicole, one that is lighter and has an attached cap. So next time I’m at a concert or the beach, losing the cap won’t even be an issue.

Oh, and while I dislike sharing my birthday with Sylvester Stallone, Nancy Reagan, 50 Cent, and the current president, it is also the same day for the Dalai Lama. Which I think puts my birthday universe quite in balance, eh?

Lady Buttercup Decides to Redecorate
Okay, I get it. You hate the vertical blinds. But seriously, tearing them down on a Greenie induced rampage doesn’t help matters.

Werewolves or Spontaneous Combustion?

It is so hot in Savannah that people are spontaneously combusting. While driving today, I saw a pair of mens shoes, a black shirt, and some gray dress slacks - with a belt through the loops - in the middle of the road. This morning, Owen and I were walking in Forsyth Park and noticed some clothing draped across a shrub. Upon closer inspection, it was a shredded pair of boxer briefs. So either people are getting overheated and flinging their clothes off, or we've got a werewolf on the loose. Because wolverines are known to rip off their underpants before racing off to hunt down their prey.

I haven't let all this stop me from baking not one, but two cakes. A double chocolate rum cake and a Guinness chocolate cake. Yum yum yummy!

Veg

Certain bits of information stay with us forever. Even though my memory is lousy, for some reason I have retained the waitressing shorthand from my first job. I started working at Po Folks when I was 16 years old, and had to learn abbreviations for their "vegetables" to write down on the ticket that goes to the kitchen. For example, rice with gravy was "RG" and mashed potatoes were "MP". I still can't drive by a BP gas station without translating automatically in my head to "baked potato".

The other thing that has really stayed with me from that first job was when one of the other waitresses got a little fried in the brain. The rumor was that she had a bad dose of acid (though Panama City alone can make a person a bit wonky). Anyway, there was a sundae that kids could order that had a scoop of vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, and a cherry on top. So this waitress, returning to work after her bad acid trip, had to make one of the kiddie sundaes. She gets it all ready, and walks out of the kitchen, except she put a cherry tomato on top instead of a cherry. And that reason alone, my friends, is why I never wanted to try acid. Or ice cream with tomatoes.