We spent three days at the lake over the Memorial Day weekend, and the last two hours on Monday in the actual sun (RAN for the dock!), laying back with a cerveza and enjoying what we should have been all weekend! Not that the rain is unwelcome--it keeps the lake house a "lake" house and not a "woods" house. My belly was bloated and I looked less than optimal in my one-piece (did not even go the route of 2-piece for this mini-adventure)--because I was stuck in the house EATING since Friday. The good news is I am all the way through episode 9 of TrueBlood--dark, funny, sexy, violent and more often than not disturbing and uncomfortable--and my boyfriend and I only had one argument all weekend depsite being trapped. It's supposed to be sunny and 80 degrees this weekend, and the good news is it's already Tuesday and I have to travel tomorrow. So before I know it Thursday will be upon us and a sunny weekend at the lake in the near future. Time flies. Period. ...

This Memorial Day weekend has been a bust--weather wise. But I am not one to complain about the time off from work, and have done my best to make the most of it. Despite the rain, or maybe because of it, we've been cooking up a storm, reading good books and working on a few small outdoor projects---some of which include planting, building an outdoor shower, and trimming the hydrangeas that tell a story of previous landscaping circa 1968. I made it my mission to create holiday pasta salads this weekend. Below is a recipe of one I came up with last night (after several beers and a couple bottles of wine--what else am I gonna do?): Chub's Greek-like Pasta Salad Serves 4-6 (double recipe for a par-tay---which I did not have seeing as no one wants to play in the rain) Pasta Salad: 1/2 lb penne pasta *You can add 1/2 lb orzo to the penne as well if you are feeling like a gourmet--makes for such a pretty little salad. 15-20 grape tomatoes 1 cucumber, diced 1 small red onio...

I keep seeing this tab in blogger draft...the option to monetize my blog.  I could let ads intermingle with my prose, but that's so commercial. Ha! No, I am so not that person, just felt like saying it.  I have this vision that I have held for YEARS since seeing the movie Funny Farm . Chevy Chase and his wife--some actress I forget---move to the country and he sets out to write his novel in an upstairs room that overlooks a pond. If you have seen the movie you know it's not even about the book, but the antics they encounter in their country house and the fact that his wife gets published first (the mailman is probably the highlight of the movie). I often think if I had that room, that pond, I would be much further along in writing my book. While that is not exactly realistic, moving to the lake house and writing my book is--of course, in an ideal world I would quit my job to write the book. But how would I live (and pay for things like Michael Kors handbags)? See, in my vision,...

I have not been using the Xanax... but one might suspect given these intense mood swings in my writing. It's called female and it's my right.

That would be me. I suppose I have been busy but I couldn't tell you for the life of me what I've been doing. Wait, clue--life. Yes! That's it. I've been living it to the fullest, and haven't even left the state of Georgia! Spending time with friends, enjoying my boyfriend, hanging out at the lake, loving my puppy. Simple things for simple times. I have also been writing my book. Yes, I have. Diligently. It's sort of like a secret, but not, seeing as I throw it out there on this public domain (sometimes I don't think anyone reads my ramblings anyway so who cares). I don't talk about it very often--you could call me protective. But it has been awesome, and I should have started this a long time ago. Ah, the journey to discovering my "why".

All week, been feeling like a heroin addict on sabbatical. Shaky, super highs and lows, bit of nausea, heaviness, tired then wide awake, mind in a million different directions. My first consideration was that I was with child. God loves me this week, and t'was not the case. After my inability to kick it through the power of positive thought, I decided to go to the doctor. I explained my symptoms, she asked me a number of questions, then told me this was a temporary concern and she's sorry I'm going through it. Huh? She then handed me a prescription for Xanax. Not, um, what I was expecting. If you read my blog regularly, then you know I have often alluded or made comments about Xanax being the answer to life's little mishaps. However, I have never actually taken or been prescribed Xanax (even had to check how to SPELL it), or any other anxiety or depression medication for that matter. It was a societal reference to which many can relate, and a way to inject hum...

Today was an accomplished day. I got a lot done at the office, and at home...it's usually one or the other. It was an icky, rainy, thunderstormy day, but I decided it was a good day to take the dog for a long walk. On my first attempt, it down poured. On my second attempt, it came to fruition. Giz and I took what I assumed would be a 45 minute walk--either we walked really fast or it wasn't as far as I thought because we were home in 25 minutes (and that includes getting the mail). But the hills were hell and I still feel like I got a workout--Giz too (who now lays spread-eagle on the hardwoods). When we got home, I decided the grocery store was in order--seeing as I have been living off of string cheese dunked in mustard powder my boyfriend got me from London (hello, he spent much time in Harrod's, and yet I got mustard ??).  Healthy, organic and low fat food items filled my fabulous green earth-friendly bags. Did I mention I threw laundry in before the walk? I did. ...

So many people have asked me if they were subject of my last post. Which makes me laugh that there are that many people out there that think they could have irritated me to that level. Don't you people know I am so not passive aggressive and you WILL know if you suck? If you must know, and to put your mind at ease, my gripe is with a moron named Mabel. Yes, there are others that from time to time fall into that category, but she was the fuel for my fire that day. And she knew it. All my love.