Eda's World

Ok. I promised myself I'd get you out of Paris by end of this blog. This is for everyone who asked how my trip was, and I gave them a 1,000 yard stare and mumbled: "Oh it was fine, yeah. It was...good." It felt like 1am that whole week after I got back. It feels like I'm just now hitting my stride again. Where was I? Oh yes, I was going to cut someone in the security line at Versailles. We went from that line to the bathroom line. The line to the ladies' room wound down stone stairs, seemingly endless. We met at the top of the stairs. Scott had used the restroom, went back outside to smoke, returned after grabbing a map of the grounds, all in the same time it took for me to get into a stall, wash my hands, and walk back up the stairs. I don't know quite all the logistics of why women's bathrooms do not move quickly, whether it is too many patrons or too much clothing that cause the back up, but nothing is more depressing than having to pee at public ve...

If I could go back and give myself a big hug and thank you two weeks ago, I totally would. Monday Sept. 30, we rolled into the house about 9:30 pm, after 19 hours of travel. I didn't sleep on the plane home, so I would sleep the night through. I woke up Tuesday morning with six massages ahead of me. The house was clean, my work linens were folded and ready to go. Everything was ready for me to start my life up again. Thank Goddess! The two weeks in Europe were amazing, but I was a totally brain dead when I got back. We left Monday Sept 16. I had totaled our car the Wednesday before we left. We got the car to the body shop on Thursday, I gave everyone the info they needed, and nothing was settled when we left Monday for Europe. I shrugged it off as we literally winged our way across the Atlantic for our ten year wedding anniversary, and what I was considering our 2nd honeymoon. We flew on Virgin Atlantic to London. I sat next to the cutest girl in her 20s. She works at a vegan n...

I am allowed to be weird, distracted or angry even when it doesn't seem appropriate. I am allowed to be affected by my work. I am allowed to say things that aren't nice. Anyone can critique me, but nobody is going to burn me for what I write.      My life is a creative journey with many different ways to express it. I am Art. I am proud to be alive. My ideas matter, my words affect those around me. I deserve a chance to speak. I am worthy. I exist and I can be a light in a dark journey fraught by danger. I want my stories to open minds to the mythological faith of dreaming their life, of using fables to guide their path. My world is a surreal one, full of beauty and tragedy. I see the strange and it makes me laugh. I am electric jazz, kitten whiskers, and velvet coats. I am liquid elegance. I am the third wish, the first snowflake, and the shooting star. I am endless potential. I am the last hurrah, the cavalry charge, and the hail Mary pass. I am a ga...

I was folding laundry while watching PBS's "Casanova" on Netflix when I realized I was in a mood. ' So?' you might ask yourself. My phone has a pink pad app on it that is awesome. It's free, you log on keep track of all things girly and I ain't talking 'bout shoe shopping. I got a little notice that says "The flowers are blooming". No, it's not code for invade Afghanistan. It is a cute little euphemism for ovulating. For some women, this would be considered 'nesting' behavior. As if. For me this is polishing my armor, cleaning the battle tack for my charger, and sharpening my bitch sword (it looks like a bastard sword, but it's sharper;). I don't really have a country to invade, but I have writing class tonight and I feel like I've done fuck all for two bloody days. Hell, I feel like I've done fuck all for eight months. I know it's not true, but I've been eating and drinking way more than normal, I...

I was listening to BBC world news and they were discussing the long range effects of Abraham Maslow's effect on psychiatry, and his famous pyramid of human development. I realized I was totally a Maslow believer. If you haven't heard of him, I'm shocked. His pyramid of human needs is taught in many science classes and psych classes. I studied it in an archaeology class at LBCC. Basically there are 5 levels: bottom level is your basics, food sex shelter, next is Safety or knowing the basics are covered for tomorrow, next Love and Belonging ie family and friends, then there is Esteem which is the respect of your peers, confidence, respect for others, and if you manage to climb up that far up the pyramid then you reach your "potential", self-actualization. You function from a higher place in yourself than the usual emotion fueled conditioned animal responses of the typical knucklehead. Maslow figured about 2% of the population was going to hit this high. Aren...

Well, I'm officially 40. Thursday was the big day, and I wasn't prepared for the pressure of finding something crazy stupid to do to mark the end of my youth, and the beginning of the quilting years. I chose going to PV to the tidepools. And I chose to go too late; the tide was high, and the stairs were too long and steep to take down the Pifferman(our intrepid hound. AKA Piff, Schultzie, Piffy von Piff Pants, pork chop, Plan B, and-my fave-Muscle Butticus, so dubbed by his goddogmom Liz. She dies I get Sanchez, her evil mastermind of a fluffy cat who is planning world domination of all humans; Me and Scott die, she gets Piff, and tons of walkies duty). So, we let Piff enjoy freaking out over all the squirrels in the grass. It was truly a beautiful day outside. Warm, windy, and the ocean is just infinite and amazing. I was fine without scrabbling over wet rocks to peer at some petrified crab hiding in the crack in a rock. We decided to head back home. Scott offered to cook my...

What is one of the weirdest questions I've ever been asked while walking my dog? "You need some Vapo-Rub or Poli Grip?" Seriously, Thursday morning some sunburned guy in a red shirt in his 40s, total meth trash, was walking past me then stopped to ask me if I needed vapo rub and denture glue. I laughed and said, "Uh, no." I walked further, and after about ten feet, my inner monkey hissed at him. There was something just too bloody suspicious about him. Why did he have those things, they are for someone seriously older than him? I started having visions of beat up little old ladies, home invasions, or car theft. I saw him ask a guy getting out of his car the same question. "I'm trying to get $2 for the bus," he added. Ugh! Crackheads chiseling away for a hit just kill me. I used to feel bad for people. Now, I can hear the weasely wheedling in their voice, and it makes me want to scream at them to quit being useless. Not very Buddhist of ...

Hot damn, ya'll. I got my tickets to Europe: Paris, Bruges, Amsterdam, London and Northhampton. It is our 10 year anniversary and we decided we needed a repeat of our honeymoon. It's not the same places as the first time, but it is two weeks like the first time. We're meeting our niece Alex in London, and we are taking her to Northhampton with us to meet Val's (Scott's mom, Alex's grandmother) Brit side of the family. We are also bringing Val's ashes to scatter in her hometown, so this trip will have some solemn bits in it. This morning was a long leisurely one. I got a ton done on my laptop: bills, buying supplies, plowing through tons of email I ignored these past few days. We had coffee I bought at Whole Foods. I was a little disappointed because it cost $15 and tasted Meh. I'm sorry, for $15 it should have tasted like Angel pussy, it should make me want to kneel and weep because I'd finally found nirvana. Nope. Meh. Molasses flavored Meh, but s...

I have started 3 different blogs in the past few weeks and haven't published one of them. My writer's block is becoming epic. I just need to do a few edits on the Rats of Green Park and I'll be golden, but I haven't jacked with it in forever. I'm so ready for it to be done, I think I'm still insecure about letting professionals see it. I did turn in an article pitch to Cracked.com. "6 reasons a Zombie Apocalypse would benefit the human race." I know. I thought it was funny as shit too:) I have to get 4 more sources, organize my quotes, and pad that bitch until it hits 2,000 words. The editors said they were interested if I could get it to their standards. Yes they do have them. LOL I'm so excited I'm going to Harvelle's Monster Burlesque this Friday. It's Kirsten's birthday and I'm gonna pony up and take her to something OTHER than a drag show. I'm a closet dancer, and I've always loved burlesque and bellydancing. ...

Nice. The dishes are done, the dog is walked, and I am taking 15 minutes to blog. I haven't written for a week. I kind of spent my days off laying on my side and watching bizarre shit on Netflix. Documentaries on horror films, indie films, old 80s horror, and documentaries on the post punk porn movement and pro sex feminist rebels. Like I said, weird shit. I've downed probably 4 bottles of red wine since Monday. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I didn't get sloppy, I was just enjoying a 2 glass minimum high in the evenings. I made dinner, I've worked out the past few days, I even did a hella big shopping trip Wednesday since I tore the ass out of one of my only two pair of jeans I have that fit right. I hate shopping. When women refer to "retail therapy" I smile and nod thinking 'Freak.' They're what I call 'the converted'. They read 17 magazine at one time and actually believed that shit, they subscribe to US magazine, and they ta...

I saw on G4 that American Ninja Warrior tryouts have come back around. Scott looked at me and asked: "So, have you dispensed with that adventure or are you going to sign up?" I haven't worked out in over a week, and only sporadically before that. You know, just enough to realize how much I suck right now. I remember being solid this time last year. I was doing two hour workouts on Sunday mornings that stripped every idea from me of what I could and could not do as a former fat girl. Kim would outline our two hour mega journey of running jumping lifting weights, bear crawling, and plank/burpee combos. Just an absolute frenzy of non-stop "Are you fucking kidding me?" Seriously, I would bark with laughter when she'd describe what we were doing that day. It sounded that absurd. Sure, I'm going to run down the beach, stop to flail about for about 5 minutes (laughingly called strength training. I called it using my body weight to strip every last iota of...

Wow. I finished that blog yesterday but it was from a week ago. I have been a slug for a week. My house was gross. I'm so glad I got up this morning and straightened up. Scott folded laundry yesterday and did dishes. I just needed to clear last night's dinner up (a disaster I thought. Scott wanted steak sandwiches. I made em. Bleah. Bland meaty doughy oniony lumps. he loved it. men are strange beasts) My banana bread just came out of the oven and smells amazing, and it warmed the house with cardamon banana spicy goodness. I'm about to shower and walk the dog. I feels so nice to be back in my groove. I abandoned my writing to deal with just functioning. I was so bummed because I had just started up again. Last week, my friend Mary and I went to IKEA on VDAY. She said she felt weird by Friday. I had a cough but the weather and the wind were all over the place and I get post nasal drip something awful this time of year. I used to worry it was a cold until I wikied the Santan...

My friend Brenda called me to let me know a high school friend of mine (Christine) had killed herself. In jail. With a telephone cord and a sock. Yeah, I know. I can't figure out what she used the sock for either... She has kids...had. Hell, she had grandkids. Why would she go to jail to sit out traffic tickets then off herself? Why be stuck in a holding cell when she could be getting high one last time in the comfort of her home before she offed herself. Sudden attack of deadly malaise? Who knows. I'm not sure I believe she killed herself. When we were teenagers, James went to Hico TX to party with friends. One of the guys got arrested, and was hung in his cell by the next morning. He would have been out in two days. NO reason to kill himself. James swears the Hico police killed him. There is a part of me that thinks Christine got shanked. The creepy thing about this is the people who have died from my graduating year have killed themselves. One person died in a car cras...

At first, I was mad at myself for not just posting the Monday post Monday, in the spirit of Gonzo blogging. Now I'm glad I gave it two days. Though it may not seem it, I did edit most of the obscenity out of it. It reads less like a Jay and Silent Bob rant now. Well, only just, I guess. So gentle reader, where did I leave you. Oh yes, the blubbering fool called Tuesday morning to get my info and assure me her psycho 'not' boyfriend would never contact me again. By Friday, State Farm called to let me know that the woman and her husband were separated and he no longer paid her car insurance. It went out last month. Told you: big sheaf of papers, no little white card, they got bupkis for you. Call. The. Cops. Anyhoo, the upshot, the marvelous fabulous bonus to this little ripple in my lazy river ride of a life is this: My uninsured driver clause has a ZERO deductible. Can you hear my sigh of relief? She's fucked. Her car is pretty much undriveable, I smacked the ever...

I can't believe it's been a whole week since I've written a blog. I was getting pretty regular. So---Car crash. Last Sunday was Scott's sister's birthday. I bought some goodies at Iguana (best gift store EVER) and we spent the evening over there. Todd had made a mound of spaghetti family style. Various friend brought brews over, I had a few with them. Scott decided it was time to go when they broke out the poker table about 8:30pm. I was bummed, I love to play cards. I don't win, but I still love to compete. A minor ass kicking is just as much fun as winning the whole pot. I live to scrape all the chips to my pile, even if it's only like four of them. Scott needed to work ass early in the morning, we exchanged kisses and hugs with everyone then took off. Scott suggested we drive PCH home. We motored to Newport Drive, and hopped on PCH for the ocean view back to Long Beach. The highway was pretty dead until we got to Huntington. There were a few cars around...

I've lost four pounds in the last three days. I've had caffeine, chocolate cake, coffee, and ate what I damn well pleased. I blew off Wed/Thurs workout, and a chance at full moon yoga Friday night. I've been an utter sloth. What the bloody hell? I hope I didn't lose muscle mass. That would suck. I flexed a lot to earn those muscles. December was a total wash as far as building myself physically. Going home was great, all the extra business was great, but it did cut into my self care. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make, and I feel like I recovered quickly. The last few workouts I have noticed a huge difference in my body movements. They are more steady the first few reps. After about 3 sets my form turns to shit, of course. I end up flailing at finishing as opposed to flexing my buttocks, wrapping my serratus anteriors and obliques around my core, and working with a straight body. (booty down and parallel to the ground, baby! It's all about form.) We were...

I've been meaning to write this blog for awhile. I ran an errand with Scott a few nights ago. Peter Frampton's "Do you feel like we do?" Scott exclaimed how much he loved the song. He told me to wait after Frampton did a wail through the speaker box and his favorite guitar solo was right after. He said he patterned most of his solos off that riff. I told him I knew that because I recognized the ascending scale style of the solo. He was so happy that I bothered to know that. I squeezed his hand and told him. "I love the music in your soul." He squeezed back. "I love you too, baby." We bought dinner, went home, put on a movie, and cuddled with dog for the evening. It was a perfect night. Scott and I are perfect for each other. We want a lot of things that others don't want. Number one is freedom. We both are artisans. We have our trades we learned and have been perfecting for years. He paints houses and I massage bodies. We don't work i...

Yep. 207. I stared at the scale and repressed the urge to toss it out of the bathroom window with a primal scream of rage. Too damn cold anyway. Thank Goddess that the cold is leaving tomorrow. When I was at Oscar's house Monday night, I was gleeful, practically awed by his central heat and air. How freakin' third world. I'm so used to being holed up with a heater in the bedroom, praying to warm up that walking through a house that was consistently warm was a real treat. No darting from room to room like a mouse. I could sit on the floor and not get freezer burn on my ass. Nice. I skipped workout last night. I had a farewell dinner with Kwanna last night about 4 and we got done right about 5:30. I was sporting a pho baby and the thought of jumping up and down made me want to puke right there and then. I texted Kim and begged off. I spent the evening curled around the newest Chris Moore book. I woke up two pounds heavier. Shit. BUT! This is not a poopy-pants post. I had ...

I was going to write every day. Scott and I quit caffeine, fried food and salt. I spent $200 on fresh veg and supplies for our first two weeks of the year. I had a mega headache for two days. I've worked out 4 days in a row last week and this one I'm planning to do the same this week. Hell I'm planning on doing that as long as I can. It's been 3 days since I've written on my blog. I gained another pound. I'm on my second cup of coffee, I don't have the 'want to' to make a grocery list for the next few days, and I've already had two english muffins this morning, not two halves two whole muffins. I've also been drinking regularly with friends. Last night I had 4-6 glasses of wine with O & K. I didn't get twisted, but the calories were still there. Crackers, cheese, wine, and girl talk. Oh how you are my downfall!! And my hair. My fucking hair! I've never had this much hair in my life! I've spent like $80 on new products new ...

Seriously? This was my conversation with my 9am appointment at 9:15am this morning. She is at a casino somewhere in Cali getting her dentures rattled by a caregiver(at least I think that is what he is. I couldn't make out much of what she was saying, she was so blissed out on cock and weed). The thing is: she is in her 70s. No joke. My irritation at hauling my ass up to work super early(for me, my next appt. is at 2) was tempered with amusement that I was being blown off for getting blown. Oy vey! I also think I poisoned Scott and myself with fish last night. We're having full fecal evacuation since about 2am last night. I'm ok, just crummy tummy. Scott came home early from work and is holed up on the couch with the PS2 and his bong. God love him. The diet is hit and miss at best this week. I made cookies a few days ago, and last night I baked the last two Fresh and Easy $1.99 desserts (his was pineapple upside down, mine was triple berry blossom). There is one piece of f...