Nobody freak out, but I deactivated my Facebook account again. It was just so peaceful without it. I got back on there to wish Ned a happy birthday back in June, then I thought, well, I'd be a fool to not leave it up for my birthday, because I am a giant ass.
Anyway, am off of there. Again.
Obviously, we're never gonna make it to the beach, but I've been enjoying my time off this week. The first person to say "staycation" gets pummeled with my liver.
Enclosed please find daisies Ned brought me.
Really, my daisies and not going to the beach and staycations and my liver have nothing to do with each other; I just saw the photo on my desktop and remembered I wanted to put it up. Here is another picture I wanted to put up.
There's a beautiful Crepe Myrtle across the street from me, as opposed to those ugly Crepe Myrtles we've heard so much about, and right now it's exploding all over the place and I love it.
Here are old Crepe and Myrtle enjoying it. Talu's Gentle Leader matches. Now I wish I'd have picked up that piece of newspaper, seen what it said.
When I lived in LA, I walked every weekday morning with my friend Kista. We lived in a really hilly neighborhood and we'd walk for 40 minutes. Our big finale was this set of redunkulous steps, and I'd hate me too for saying "redunkulous," that went straight up a hill. Every day we'd climb that thing and deposit our lungs at the top. Good gravy. The point is, we'd often find notes and photos and all sorts of things on the ground. We thought about making a book out of them.
Ooo, and speaking of which, some of my readers were nice enough to send me gifts for my birthday, and those are the very best kind of readers. Yesterday I cashed in my psychic reading at the hippie crystal store in town, (to thwart the 23949493 local emails I'm about to get, it's the one on State Street and the person who read me is whomever reads tarot cards every Tuesday).
So, she sets down my cards and says, "Hunh. Are you a writer?"
!!!!
"Well, sort of, I mean, yeah." I can never just say yes, I'm a writer. I'm more of a spew whatever comes out-er. I'm like a Crepe Myrtle, only not as pretty.
"Well, you need to concentrate on that," she said. "Big things are happening there. Are you thinking of writing a book?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, yeah, I guess." She must have been blown away by my forceful nature.
"You should work on that now. I can see big things with that. A real change of pace."
!!!
Then she said, "Hunh. Are you an animal lover? Do you take on special cases?" Edsel immediately popped into my head, but then I remembered that Iris is allegedly sight-challenged. "Sight-challenged." Jesus. Maybe I'll start referring to my animals as feline-Americans and canine-Americans, too, while I'm up being an asshole. And I'll be sure to let everyone know they're RESCUES every time I possibly can.
The point is, interesting reading. Today I am cashing in the spa gift certificate another reader sent me. Did I mention gifty readers are the best KIND of readers?
Oh! And when I got home, I had an email from MY EDITOR at Purple Clover. It was full of compliments, telling me how great he thought my writing was, and I was all, "ooooWEEEEEooooooo!"
After my reading and compliments, I went to the movies. Last night they showed Purple Rain at the old movie theater. Ohmyhod, best time there, ever.
OhmyHOD. I don't even know who Hod is. But I'll bet I rescued him.
Anyway, everyone in there was a Prince freak like me, and as soon as he appeared in the movie we all started screaming and cheering. When Appolonia took off her clothes, we all hooted. So to speak. And when he got to Purple Rain, they lit up the arch that frames the movie screen; the screen has this elaborate, 1920s gold arch thing that's lovely. Anyway, it was hilarious. And of course, when he sang, "If you know what I'm singing about up here come on raise your hand" we ALL DID. The whole place.
And of course we all broke into, "Oooo, hooo, hoooo hooo" at the end. We were a group of idiots, is what we were. In unrelated news, I need a peplum leather coat like Appolonia's, stat.
If you can get past the first minute of horrid buzzing, you get to the song and oh, how I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain.
I love me the Prince.
Anyway, I'm off to the spa, as you do on Wednesdays all the time when you're luxurious like me.
If you know what I'm blogging about up here come on raise your hand.
