Driving in to the office this morning my mind drifted to McCleod’s Daughters. An Australian television show I used to watch. Now I suppose if anyone reads my blog from Down Under they are laughing their ass off. It would be akin to someone saying they love Dallas. (Only this series was sooo much better). Or like when I lived in Munich, the insane out of body experience I had when people inquired with glee “Du you know David Hasselhoff?”
“Come again?” I thought, “Do you mean Night Rider?” which I watched by the way. But no they were referring to the Rock Star. No I didn’t say Baywatch star I said Rock Star. This was long before he became the Hamburgler. Imagine waking up in the morning to this!
There is not enough consumable caffeine to convince you you’re actually awake and this is real. To the German’s- he was a God. Me? I just missed Kit. And maybe home a little.
So I’ve been working on the Quail Toile and I am thrilled with my design. I finally got the final layout off to the owners. Who sent them on to their manufacturer in China. Who insisted they be vector images. I didn’t draw vector images. They were a mix of digital and watercolors patched together in Photoshop. And trust me this loses something in conversion to vector in Illustrator and there was no time to fix it. So I’m just praying they can use the files I sent. I am not learned enough with these programs to find quick fixes. Fingers crossed.
As many of you know I am a regular Friday Fictioneer, my weekly pleasure. Though after this week’s story my friend dubbed me the Master of Depressing Shorts. I have mixed feeling about this title. But as of yet I haven’t written lighter. I’ve tried to get my friend to join in the fun and games. But her self judgement gets in the way of her creative freedom. Hemingway eloquently said “The first draft of anything is shit.” And honestly the point is to write, not judge. So I have prodded her mercilessly. Emailing her this quote-Writer’s block is only a failure of the ego. – Norman Mailer. And so she wrote the following:
1 for 8
It wasn’t supposed to rain.
I wasn’t supposed to get lost.
My car wasn’t supposed to get a flat tire.
I wasn’t supposed to slip, breaking a heel, while getting out to search for cell reception and my phone was not supposed to fly out of my hand and sink into the mire.
My newly straightened hair was not supposed to frizz, and my makeup was not supposed to drip down my now wilted alabaster silk dress just as a Porsche came flying by.
George Clooney was not supposed to slide out of the car….
…and Damn it, he didn’t.
This weekend I had wanted to head to Portland for a SIBO Symposium at the National College of Natural Medicine. But I’m not ready for travel just yet. So instead I am attending the conference via webcast. I hope to glean a few tidbits about my affliction in hopes of keeping it tamed for the rest of my life. Wee.
And as usual I will be playing bridge with friends. I tell you Bridge can give one insight to who they are. Personality traits are revealed, relationships exposed and patterns repeated. With this in mind I have learned I’m a wimp. Okay better said I no longer take risks. A good friend reminded me I used to. This behavior leads to slams missed and hands underbid. In life it leads to lost opportunities. Perhaps I’ll also work on that in 2014.
Okay must go now. Have a good weekend. See you on the blog.
Blast from This Blogs Past
The Weekend Reading List
- A Strange Guy Knows my Cycle ~ Another entertaining read by the Accidental Cootchie Mama.
- The Tattoo Artist, Friendship Soup and Conversation ~ Renee made me crave the lost time of connection with another human being and the desire to write my own 6 word memoir.
- A Year Long Story ~ A Creative project hatched by Ionia Martin and Julian Froment join in the fun as line by line, day by day a story is built.
- The Hard-won Lessons of the Solitary Years ~ I know this well.
- My Mom Could Teach Macklemore Something About Thrift Shopping ~ gew gaws, tchotchkes, paraphernalia and The Penny Pinchers.
Life After You ~Daughtry