So my face. My face is rebelling. I'm breaking out like a Justin Bieber fan would. And considering I'd like to run over that kid with a lawn mower, this does not please me. I know it's from being in the sun last weekend. The heat, me sweating like Sweaty SweatsALot, and having sunscreen on my face. Almost 36 years with my skin, I can tell the cause of this zit from that zit. And the current batch of crop circles (and all out evil confetti) on my face are the fault of last Saturday spent miserably outside at a beer festival with no beer. I seriously hate HBF. I console myself with the thought that they'll probably never get a permit to do anything in this city ever again.
My dad and I already did his main present for Father's Day. I noticed before Mother's Day that Buddy Guy was coming to town in June so I asked him if he'd be interested in going. He was and I got us the tickets. I originally put in for 3 of them so Mama Pants could go along as well, but oddly, as I checked out, it only gave me 2 tickets. Only charged me for 2 as well. It was very weird. But we went last Wednesday and had a blast--and the seat next to Big Daddy Pants was empty the whole night. The show was at the House of Blues (fittingly, as he's a blues guitarist) and while it got hot as all get out upstairs, it was a damn good show. I was shocked to find out that Buddy Guy is 74. Total example of "black don't crack." Jealous.
We're still doing lunch on Father's day though. And I bought three boxes of See's Molasses Chips for Big Daddy Pants. He loves 'em. So do I, unfortuantely. So I'm wrapping them as soon as I get home so they don't suddenly dwindle down to two boxes. Afterwards, Mama Pants said we might tool over to Lowe's and look more closely at bathroom stuff. Dad wants to redo my bathroom--it's still got everything original from when the places were built in the 80s. There surely isn't enough room for a garden tub or a clawfoot tub--in space or in budget, as the clawfoot I saw there a few weeks ago was more than $1100. I need to take measurements tonight. Note to self.
I also started looking at paint colours yesterday. I got a good idea of the colours I'd like to do and I'm pretty sure my parents are going to look at me like I'm insane. They're very into the whole "everything is one colour: white" thing. Me? I want colour. I've lived with the "everything is oddbeige" for a long time. I want some colour up in here! Everything I was picking out for the living room was pretty earthy toned. I believe I'm going with a green and yellow thing. Colourful, but not an eye-assault. My bedroom will be in blues--a very light, airy, almost white blue for the main walls, and a deep, saturated, night blue for the little window nook. (Most of the nook will eventually be covered with curtains, so it will be a very small pop.) The bathroom--I'm still up in the air on that one, but I'm leaning towards steely greys. The kitchen is the eye-assault. I think kitchens should be fun. I would love to do an electric blue, but as it will be visible from the living room, it has to coordinate, which means I might need to earth down the blue a bit. Or change up completely and do an eggplant in there. The best part? No drop cloths necessary. Since the floors are being replaced, I can slop it everywhere. (And I will.)
And now, we pretend this is a suitable segue....
A gal on my team is the Crazy Dog Lady, like I'm the Crazy Cat Lady. She might be a bit crazier. Obviously I love her. She's currently got 9 dogs on her property. (She lives way way way out in the country and has a sizable chunk of property.) She's raising 3 puppies from two strays. It was 4, but one was already adopted, as was the mama. The daddy dog is a street dog who hangs around to get fed because she's nice and feeds him. Once the puppies are gone, daddy dog is going to get his balls deballed. She owns 4 of the dogs on her own--was 5, but lost one late last year sadly. And someone recently dropped a lovely dog near her property last week so she's been feeding him as well. She's pretty amazing. Takes them to the vet to make sure they're healthy (which is as much for her own dogs as for the strays and stragglers) and works with a local rescue to find suitable homes for them. She won't just give them away to anyone; the owners must be screened and approved. I admire her dedication. She really should be running some sort of rescue operation, though sadly those never bring enough money to live on. She's certainly not the beancounter type. I have no idea how she fell into that profession, but I'm glad she did cos she makes me feel less insane for my feline menagerie.
And now, just for the weekend, I've got your TMI report: I'm not wearing any knickers today. Ha!
July 27, 2011 at 11:30 AM