Author: leohblooms

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The Drive

I drove to Salt Lake City, Utah today. It took about 12 hours. There wasn’t much snow and what there was of it was next to the road or up on the mountains and not where I was driving so we got along just fine.

As we left Vegas and the smog lifted, I remembered why I like Utah sometimes even though we weren’t there yet. The drive is beautiful starting somewhere around the Virgin River in Nevada and then up through Snow Canyon and farther north into the Utah Valley. Drop dead gorgeous.

I don’t have any photos of the fields of dry, yellow grass along the side of the road mixed with the white snow next to the green dotted hills leading up to the bracing blue sky sporting all shapes and sizes of pink-tinted clouds. And I don’t have a photo of the sky as it turned to dusk that looked like it was on fire for miles and miles, all fierce reds and oranges. You’ll just have to take my word for it – it was beautious.

Tonight I’m so tired that I can barely keep my eyes open and my muscles ache. But it’s all good, baby. It’s all good.

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The Tshirts – A Saga

First I had to make a new version of the image because I had done it wrong. Then I sent it in and waited for a phone call. Then I called and was promised a call back. Then I waited a day and then called again and then really got to talk to someone. Then I was told there was still something wrong with the file so I got to do it AGAIN and boy that was fun. And then I sent it and called and verified it was there and then that part was good and over. Then he sent me an email with the new invoice. And I waited and waited. And waited and it didn’t come. And then it popped in my email the next morning showing that he did actually send it when he said he did, judging by the date/time stamp. Something was up with my email holding it hostage for a few hours. Why, email, WHY? But then I printed out the invoice and took it to the drugstore where they told me that they didn’t do faxes anymore. Why not, I asked? And the young woman rolled her eyes at me and said, ‘because.’ So that cleared that right up. And then I drove all the way over to Kinkos and faxed it there. And then I called to verify that he got it but I got the machine and left a message. And now it’s the weekend so I won’t find out until Monday. BUT if he did, then we’re only talking about a matter of days/weeks until those Tshirts are in your hands. BUT if he didn’t, then we’re talking another trip to Kinkos, which I can handle tootsweet, baby.

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Gingerbread Houses, er, Buildings, er, Somethings

After we got done gorging ourselves on turkey and stuffing and pie, we got out the supplies to make gingerbread houses. We used to do this every year but have slacked off the past few years. But this year – back on task.

As I pulled out bag after bag of candy, none of which anyone wanted to eat because they were so full (it’s part of the plan, yo) the kids got around the table and grabbed a ziplock of icing. We found out that we were missing one of the walls for the houses and we were 2 gingerbread men short. Most of the candy was too heavy for the icing and I thought – this is awesome.

Never, in any of the years we’ve done this, have the houses ever worked. They just don’t. The icing is either too soft or too hard and the house parts are too heavy or too brittle and the graham crackers that I buy to have just in case are broken. I mean, if the point was to actually make gingerbread houses, the entire thing would be a bust. But that is never the point.

Alex did hers on the tinfoil.

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Devon made a huge glob of marshmallows.

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Lacey made lovely designs.

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Tony did mostly all his candy on the inside.

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Tyler made some kind of bench out of gumdrops.

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And Alison and Tony made a Holy Moly roller church –

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that sacrificed gummy bears.

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All in all, a great success. Complete set here.

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Trussed

I’ve had a thing about raw fowl flesh for as long as I can remember. We used to have chickens when I was little and THE worst job in the world, even worse that collecting the green horned tomato worms, was getting stuck doing the chickens. The chopping their heads off. The blood. The smell of the boiling water on their feathers and the plucking, plucking, plucking. Makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

Every time Thanksgiving rolls around, I have a few uncomfortable moments while I think about how gross it is to touch the turkey and then Joe looks at my face and says he’ll take care of it. Phew. Ok. Crisis averted.

This year, I watched non-stop cooking shows on TV for about a month leading up to Thanksgiving and I kept watching how it was no big deal, this touching the raw turkey thing. Those television people just toss it around like it’s no big thing and salt it and butter it and put their fingers under the top layer of skin and put herbs in it and stuff the butt cavity with whatever and I almost had myself convinced that I could do it this year. Almost.

And then it was 9am on Tday morning and Joe was upstairs sleeping and I didn’t want to wake him and the turkey needed to get in the oven and I grabbed that organic, free-range 22 pound turkey from Whole Foods out of the fridge and tossed it in the sink. I looked at it. Considered it. Poked it.

And then the most amazing thing happened. It was like I was watching the TV. My Primal Cook skills came out and I rinsed, dried, seasoned and trussed that sucker like nobody’s business. Then I popped it in the oven and by the time Joe got downstairs it had already been cooking for an hour.

Amazingly, it turned quite delicious. I’ve decided the answer is to always watch more television.

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Dinner Last Night

All the kids came over for dinner last night and it was awesome. Really, really awesome. There was stuff to talk about and lively conversation ensued. There was background music and lots of singing at the table. There was more than enough food and lots of eating. And it was easy and good.

And I felt different. I know that fact has a huge part in all this. I felt different. Not desperate. Not sad. Not upset or feeling gypped. I was present and just enjoying the couple of hours they were there and not wishing for something else – something more.

I think that in response to that, the kids can be different, too, and just enjoy the time as well. Instead of feeling guilty or bad or whatever they’ve felt during the past few months. It was just easy last night.

How much of this has to do with the new medications finally kicking in and how much has to do with the fact that they’ll be here over the Thanksgiving weekend which makes me feel rich in time with them right around the corner – I don’t know. But I do know it was wonderful.

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The News Fit To Snooze

Today I went to Costco for the first time in about 4 years. I’d forgotten the sheer magnitude of stuff that resides inside. And it reminded me of the movie Idiocracy and how they portray the future.

We got a pizza. Let me preface my next comment by saying I don’t care for pizza. I’ve had lots of bad pizza in my life. Every so often a pizza will look good and I’ll think – Hey! I wouldn’t mind eating some pizza right now! – and I surprise myself when that happens. But anyway, we got one of the huge Costco pizzas and I was decidedly looking forward to it. And it was the single most disgusting pizza I’ve ever eaten two bites of. The crust was bitter and the cheese tasted off and the sauce might have been ok but it was really hard to tell under the bitter and the off. Why two bites? Because I really couldn’t believe the first one. I thought it couldn’t really be that bad. But it was. So, that ought to do me for another 3 years. We threw the rest away. The recently emptied trashcan is now halfway full of gross pizza.

In other news, my body is made of lead today. I’m having difficulty simply walking and keeping upright. I started a new medication, Wellbutrin, a few days ago and so far, I’m tired, which is the opposite of what is supposed to happen I think. The sucky thing about new medications is that you have to wade through the bad ones for a few weeks before you move on. So it could be weeks of knuckle dragging and drooling.

If you wanted a Tshirt, you’ve got approximately a few more days to order. There have been enough people get one to put the order in at any time, so let’s say the cut-off is Sunday night.

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You Need To Hold My Hand (Or, Finally, Get A Tshirt)

Last week I went to Santa Barbara and had lunch with Eden. And why not, right? I mean, if you had the option of having lunch with Eden, you would, right? She’s funny and pretty and smells nice. She knows the best places to eat fish tacos. She wears cute shoes. Cookie licks her. In fact, if you don’t want to have lunch with Eden, I’d venture to say there is something wrong with you.

I wish I could say I JUST went there to have lunch with Eden, but in fact, I went because somewhere along the line I turned into a confused, tear-leaking mass that can’t find the right freeway exit or right turn after getting whittled away to nothing by a mean man. I turned into the lady that drives along in her car, weeping under her sunglasses and wiping snot on her sleeve because the box of tissues shot along the van floor and went behind the back seat when she made that last wrong turn. I’m the lady you feel sorry for when you glance over at the light and mistakenly think she’s singing along to music you can’t hear until you notice the quivering lower lip.

I’ve spent the better part of 2 months trying to find the right place to get Tshirts made with the Flawed But Authentic logo on them. I’ve talked to so many screen printers that I could catalog them at this point and tell you which ones made me cry and which ones just laughed in my face. Because I only want to make about 25 shirts. And that is unheard of, people. UNHEARD of. You don’t even start talking Tshirts unless you want 100 minimum order and it is beneath them to even talk to you. Or they will just charge you an arm and a leg per shirt. And who wants to spend $36 on a Tshirt? Not me. Not you, either.

So that brings us to the kind and great smelling Eden who took pity on me and drove me over to her personal screenprinter, Arosha, who did NOT laugh at me or make me cry and welcomed my tiny Tshirt order at a reasonable price. Yay for Arosha! And Yay! for Eden and thanks for holding my hand the entire time. Sorry about the palm sweat.

Please behold the selected choices.

You can have this extra long-bodied shirt by Kavio in a S, M, L or XL:

You can have this shirt by Hanes in a 1X, 2X or 3X:

They are both a basic black color and I have no idea why they look a little different.

And this is the logo:

And this is how we’re pretending that I’ve made one already and it looks like this:

See how great it accentuates the breasts?

How do you get one? Glad you asked. Click here for all sizes. I couldn’t get the sizes to work in the store so I’ll email you after I get your order to find out the size until I get that fixed. As soon as I have a minimum of 25 shirts, I’ll send the order in and then it takes about 2 weeks. Yay! for us!

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Two Links

1) This Daft Punk/Charleston mix is awetothesome. (thanks, Alison)

2) Without going into a long, heated rant, let me just say that there is a right way and a wrong way to make internet friends and get traffic to your site. Because I feel so passionate about this, it’s better if I just link to this awesome, stellar post over at Scalzi.com where you can read how he’s said it so well. And if you’re offended by the capitol F word, you might want to skip it, since his post is peppered with a few well-placed F-bombs. Mom, you could use the Sharpie but your screen will be forever edited. (thanks, Joe)

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140 Chars Or Less

I’ve taken to talking and emailing as if I were Twittering. Meaning, everything has to be 140 characters or less. Oh, an example, you say?

Home from Palm Desert. Good times were had by all. Not as many hangovers as last year. I didn’t look like this. Just like this.

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Dumbest Saturday moment – Tam gives me GREAT shoulder massage. I say ‘I can tell you are good at this.’ which sounds like bad pick-up line.

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Funniest Sunday moment – Katie asks ‘Was your family a nudie or not a nudie family?’ while standing in a towel. Was afraid to answer wrong.

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Regarding Tshirts = Looks like “Flawed But Authentic” and long-sleeved black wins by a landslide. More details coming soon.