Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog - Call Me Jeremiah

I'm not sure of what I just got myself into here. Ever the joiner, when Thommy, of my offices "party planning committee", said he and the other Aimee were going to be caroling for our Xmas event, I chirped "I'll carol with you!!" I love Christmas songs, they're timeless, universal, cheesy. Aimee and Thommy are singers who have used their voices to sing, like for people, recently. I believe Aimee has auditioned for singing parts and is on albums and stuff.

Thommy wrote me note later, asking what part I sang. Years ago, we're talking decades, I was an alto. When I first moved to Chicago, I would sing in open mikes and jams around town, desperately trying to channel Sarah Vaughn. I was invited back to sing at a few bars, (can't remember the name of the places, like the Green Door or the Red Mill. Like I says, decades ago...) My voice was in pretty good shape, so I didn't butcher the standards too much. I also managed to catch a band and a husband while singing.

So Thommy asked if I'd do a solo. Joiner me responds, "What the Hell. Sure."

I'm sooo in over my head.

I played the CD of carols we'll be singing in the car on the commute home tonight. I sang along with the 2 songs I thought I might pull off. Lordy, lordy, my voice is now reminiscent of a goose with a head-cold. Vocally, I am out of shape and I won't even embarrass myself relating my struggle to find the correct key to sing in.

The carollers will be rehearsing several times before the Christmas event. What're the odds my voice can be toned and fit within a month?

This could be an epic fail. I just hope it isn't sad, but hilarious.

Just Fine

Hey kids,

It's been awhile. I'm so sorry I've been neglecting you and I don't even have the excuse of children distracting me. That's what I kinda wrote about on this installment of my blogumn on FierceAndNerdy.com. Read it, comment, love me.

In other news, I'm a big fan of this guys comic strip - We The Robots - also, I'm tired.

Your Lady Blog

Little Stinky Junior Loves Fierce and Nerdy

No Happy Ending

Remember when I said that if you get a bad massage it's your own fault? I told you that you need to talk to your therapist and tell them "firmer" or "lighter", whichever you need. I just couldn't fathom getting a bad massage.

I just got a bad massage.

As a former therapist I know a few rules, always move toward the heart, never pinch, cut your nails, don't move the muscle toward the bone. At the spa chain I just visited, I was assigned a 5Ft Nuthin therapist. Massage taught me that tiny ladies usually like deeper massage and big folks like more gentle relaxation.

I asked for a simple swedish, which should just consist of something called effleurage (basically the long stroke rubbing, not going deep into the muscle). We discussed what I wanted, how deep I wanted it, where, etc...

This therapist moved around my body in an odd way, didn't do any effleurage. None. Zero. She was all about DEEP and not any type of deep tissue method I'd learned. She utilized a technique that seemed more "Poke, pinch and jiggle" I know how to say "lighter, or heavier" but I don't know how to say "WTF are you doing??" or "Dude, a toddler gives a better massage". So I suffered through it. As she was working on pinching my calves, yes pinching (and she her nails were digging into me a little, and I'm checking for bruises now) I was reminded of last June, when I spent 4 hours in a dental chair with a non-novacained nerve that later turned into a root-canal. If a massage reminds you of that kind of dentist pain, it's clearly a bad massage.

After the therapist poked and prodded at my neck at the end of the torture, she then tried to sell me on scheduling more or maybe getting the annual membership. Even if she'd been a good rub-er, at the end of the massage you should gently say "We're done, take your time, I'll be in the lobby with water..."

I have probably given some bad massages in my day, but I whole-heartedly believe none of them were this awful. I never pinched and always effleuraged (I made a word:) ) I once knew a therapist who's technique and demeanor was so perfect for me! Sadly, she left the state. The therapist that got away. Now I need to find someone who won't make me worse when all I want is to relax.

I'm busy being delicious

If you've spent any time with me what-so-ever, you are aware that I am both attracted to and repelled by sugar. My mother was an amazing baker of cookies, pies, cakes and all things that mix flour, sugar and fat. (She also has a huge garden with lots of fresh produce, but I like sugar better.) So baked goods represent family and love and comfort. BUTT sugar also makes me cranky, zitty and tubby.

Now on Fierce and Nerdy - Read all about the Sugar Clique at my office and my struggle for power of the monkey on my back that is made entirely of marzipan.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm busy being delicious

Book' em Danno

Hey babies,

Oooooh yeah, I watched some WKRP in Cincinnati weekend. I do miss Venus Fly-Trap and Andy's male camel toe. But that's not all the news that's fit to print.

I've got another article up on FierceAndNerdy.com today (my Blogumn - Tall Drink of Nerd). It's kind of about trying to buy a book at the airport. I know you've been there, maybe in Cincinnati!

Smootches

Sunday

I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get anything done this afternoon. I am supposed to be writing something for FierceAndNerdy.com, but I'm feeling hella lazy and procrastinating.

I'm sleepy because I woke up at 7:00ish this morning smelling smoke and wondering if the house was on fire. Sean and I wandered around inside and outside our house, in our robes, looking for flame or any other indication of fire until I thought of maybe turning on the TV to see if any hillsides were smokin'. Sure enough, Tujunga was on fire. The winds were strong and blowing the smoke and ash east towards us in a very powerful way.

We were up for good and very shortly full of delicious Sean-made french toasts. Time had come to plant veggies. Now the earth that we(I) have to plant in is hard, clay, difficult to hoe and/or dig in. So I wasted water to muddy the strip of land to diggable standards and now have planted 2 tomato plants (Roma and Beefsteak), one strawberry plant, 6 celery, 6 onion and one rosemary bushshrub. Also trying my hand at basil in a container again, but don't have high hopes as I've already murdered about 1/2 dozen of those over the past 5 years.

I'm also sleepy because it's moderately chilly outside and it's very quiet inside. Only the occasional noise of crystal windchimes on the patio or a plane flying very high above breaks the silence. The cats are scattered around the guest room in various states of repose. Munchy is snoring on her pillow in the sunshine, KoE and Lingers are vying for a spot on the afghan that covers the lower half of the bed. After a hella stressful week, I do believe I'll procrastinate my blogumn for a few more hours, grab the fantastic book I'm reading and tuck myself between kitties for a well deserved break from work-type-stuffs.

Three Legged Kitties and Tall Drink O' Nerd

Tall Drink O' Nerd, that's me.

Ernessa has graced me with another blog opportunity. No poop this time, but lots of scoop on how awesome the Public Library is!

Check me out at Fierceandnerdy.com

I was so bummed that I was too sick yesterday to go to the West Hollywood book fair. I caught a stupid cold on Thursday which turned epic in proportion by the weekend, forcing me to do basically nothing but suffer and heal.

The only thing I did aside from blowing my nose constantly and talking like a man while surrounded by used tissues and watching really bad movies on cable was visit the kitty rescue on Saturday to see Annabelle.

Annie is now a three legged kitty with a little nub for her left front leg. She's about 3 times the size she was when I found her, but she's glossy and happy and healthy and so friggin adorable. I got to hold her for about 4 minutes at the PetCo where the rescue was showing kitties for adoption. No crying this time! Seen said he was worried for a minute that I wouldn't let her go (I almost didn't). She's available for adoption, but our Munchy (16 years old with IBD) gets really sick with any change or stress so we can't, just can't bring any new critters into the house. She's so cute, she was probably adopted Saturday. I'm just thrilled she has a great foster mom and is acting like a regular cat.

A happy ending for the kitty!